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Summer in Bavaria
by Tom (tje@mail.nls.net) 

***

An American boy comes to stay with his German 
grandparents in Bavaria where he "comes of age" learning 
about sex with his new friends. (bbg, 1st, bi, youths)

***

I saw him waiting for me, my grandfather, waving at me 
from the rear of the crowd, as I entered the lounge 
after deplaning in Munich. It was so good to see him 
again, the lovely old man, whom I secretly preferred to 
my American grandfather, who was a banker and a bit of a 
stuffed shirt. My German grandpa was Dr. Alois Hubner, 
recently retired as a civil engineer for the 
municipality of Munich. 

He gave me a big hug, when I finally got through the 
crowd, which did not embarrass me, although I had just 
turned fifteen and was a bit skittish about such 
displays of physical affection in public. 

He was not much taller than I, with wisps of gray hair 
on either side of his bald head. A Bavarian jacket 
wrapped around his rotund bulk. He sometimes wore 
lederhosen, but not that day. There was a cheerful glint 
in his blue eyes. Smiles wrinkles joined the other lines 
of his sixty seven year old face.

"How was the flight," he asked routinely.

"Very smooth," I replied. "We all applauded the crew, 
when we finally landed."

"That's the custom," he said, as we made our way to the 
baggage area.

We spoke in German. I was bilingual in German and 
English, and I could also converse reasonably well in 
French. My mother, grandpa's daughter, always spoke 
German to me at home, ever since I was a baby. Dad 
sometimes spoke with us in German, although he usually 
preferred English.

I had been visiting Germany, actually Bavaria, almost 
every year for as long as I could remember. They were 
usually short trips, lasting just a few days. This time 
I would be spending the entire Summer with my German 
grandpa and grandma, three whole months.

We carried my luggage to the parking lot and placed it 
into the trunk of grandpa's Audi. We had a ways to 
drive, because, after his retirement, he and grandma 
moved from their large apartment across from the English 
Garden in Munich and had built a house in the Alps, a 
few miles from Reit-im-Winkel, where they then lived. It 
would be a two hour drive.

"We have found some playmates for you. They are waiting 
to meet the boy from America."

"How many are there?"

"Just three, two girls and a boy about your age. We live 
rather high up on the mountain, where there are not too 
many houses."

I had worried about being stuck with just grandpa and 
grandma, about being bored. The old man knew how I felt, 
even before I had arrived. He had sought out children in 
his area and told them about an exotic boy who would 
soon come from Cleveland, in America, who lived next to 
the vast inland seas, the Great Lakes. Grandpa was a 
splendid story teller.

It was still early in the morning, and I dozed in the 
car as we drove southeast from Munich. It was a glorious 
day in late Spring, but I could not keep my eyes open.

* * *

We drove through the most magnificent countryside as we 
approached grandpa's house. The valley below stretched, 
lushly, far to the east. Snowy peaks were visible in the 
distance. I savored the cool, crisp air of the 
mountains; I could almost taste it. Then the house came 
into view. It was a rather large chalet which perched on 
the side of the mountain and faced the valley.

"Your room is up there," he pointed, "on the right. 
Upstairs. You see the balcony?"

Grandma was outside waiting for us as we drove up. She 
was larger around than her husband, and she was shorter 
than I. Her gray hair was braided and piled all over her 
head. She had the most rosy cheeks, and a face which was 
unlined. I loved her dearly and we embraced with joy, 
when I emerged from the car. 

It always amused me that people referred to her 
respectfully as Frau Doktor Hubner, although she had 
never attended a university. Grandma had a rather heavy 
lunch ready for us, oxenfleish mit spaezle, one of my 
favorites. She placed a glass of beer before me, 
fragrant, Bavarian beer, which was just part of the 
meal, and which grandpa referred to as "liquid bread".

My room was spotless, of course, and from the glass 
doors, which led onto the balcony, I had a panoramic 
view of the valley below. I took a short nap after 
lunch. I awoke to grandma's gentle shaking of my 
shoulder and the words "you have visitors".

I went downstairs, and in the main room of the house I 
was greeted by three beautiful kids. The boy was Anton, 
who, at fourteen and one half, was six months younger 
than I. I was struck by his prettiness. He was a bit 
shorter than I. He had raven black hair, which 
accentuated his slightly pale face, with its symmetrical 
features and slender, roseate lips. 

His bright smile revealed even, white teeth His eyes 
were a piercing blue Katrina was his twelve year old 
sister, and she looked very much like her brother. Her 
dark hair hung almost to her shoulders. Unlike her 
brother who greeted me boldly and with open enthusiasm, 
Katrina looked up at me shyly with a demure smile. Small 
breasts poked at her white, embroidered blouse. Her 
pale, upper arms, neither skinny nor heavy, looked 
incredibly soft. 

Helga was their eleven year old cousin. She was a little 
pixie. She looked at me with an eager, open face, the 
face of a very pretty child. Helga was very blonde and 
her hair was tied in two pig tails on either side of her 
head. I don't know the term for that hair style. She was 
a head shorter than I and quite slender. I thought that 
she was absolutely adorable.

We sat on the couch and on chairs. Grandma and grandpa 
were elsewhere, leaving me free to become acquainted 
with my new playmates.

"Tell me about the Great Lakes," little Helga began, 
revealing an interest in geography. "Are there large 
ships on them?"

"There are very long, rather narrow ships called ore 
carriers," I responded. "And there are ships from the 
ocean that come into the lakes to pick up and deliver 
cargo at various cities."

We talked for a good while about the Great Lakes and 
about my experience with them. I had swam in them all, 
including Lake St. Clair. We talked about sand dunes and 
boating. Grandma came into the room with glasses of 
lemonade for us.

"You speak German just like us," Anton observed, and I 
explained my background.

Evidently I had passed muster, because I was invited to 
join them in their pastimes. We arranged to have a 
picnic up the mountain the next day. As they left the 
house Helga grinned openly at me. Katrina, who had not 
spoken the entire while, smiled shyly at me. Anton shook 
my hand like an adult, looked into my face and said, 
"welcome to Bavaria." 

Again I noticed the remarkable prettiness of him. I had 
never before been struck by the prettiness of other 
guys. I wondered about that as I watched them walk up 
the road to their houses.

* * *

Back in Cleveland, or rather Hunting Valley, where I 
grew up in a large house surrounded by twelve manicured 
acres next to the Chagrin River, my life was, I suppose, 
somewhat sheltered. I attended a private boy's school, 
one which expected the students to try their hardest at 
their studies. Slackness was prohibited. The environment 
of the school was one of discipline and achievement. We 
all knew that we were privileged and that we would, in 
time, become leaders in business and the professions.

I did not have any close friends at school. We were all 
so competitive; at least I thought so. Many of the guys 
had buddies, but I didn't. I did not talk about sex to 
anyone, nor did I date. So it came as a shock to me that 
my new German friends were so casual about their sexual 
attitudes and behavior. I began to realize this, when I 
went with them on our first picnic, which we enjoyed up 
in a mountain valley.

We trudged up a dirt path, the air magnificently crisp, 
the ten o'clock sun promising a warm day. We wore back 
packs full of the picnic stuff. Anton and Helga walked 
about fifty yards ahead of Katrina and me, holding hands 
and behaving very affectionately towards one another. On 
occasion I could hear the tinkle of the little girl's 
giggle. Katrina was not as shy as she had been on the 
previous day. 

She looked at me often and smiled into my face. I 
thought that she was absolutely beautiful, that she was 
the perfect girl for me. My hand brushed hers 
inadvertently, and she took hold of it, smiling again 
into my face. We walked on hand in hand, even though I 
had just met her. I felt very pleased, because I thought 
that, in time, she might let me kiss her pretty face. 
That was about as far as I could imagine.

Just before I turned thirteen I discovered masturbation 
as I showered. It occurred quite by accident. I washed 
my penis a bit too much and it got hard, felt good. I 
continued to wash it until I squirted forth, feeling a 
little sting but marvelous pleasure. 

The experience frightened me, because, believe it or 
not, I had not known about masturbation. No one had ever 
told me about it. I thought that I had discovered 
something radically new. I did it again the next day and 
at least once each day ever since.

What I am saying is that I was then very naive and quite 
inexperienced about sex, and that those German friends 
were way ahead of me, although all three were still 
virgins.

"What are you thinking," Katrina asked me as she noticed 
that my mind was wandering. I could not tell her, of 
course, so I responded with some banalities about the 
beauty of the mountains.

"Do you have a girl friend back home?' Another question 
that was difficult to answer.

"No, not at present."

"I would like for you to be my friend." For me that was 
a shocker, especially because she squeezed my hand, when 
she said it I tried to look into her face and smile 
suavely, but I found myself staring at the lovely flesh 
of her upper arm and then at the modest bulge of her t 
shirt. Katrina giggled and knocked her shoulder against 
mine. Then I did smile at her, a genuine smile. I felt 
suddenly relaxed and extremely happy.

"I would very much like to be your friend," I said, 
squeezing her hand. She squeezed back, looking into my 
face with an expression which was at once both bold and 
demure. She was so beautiful.

Up ahead Anton was nibbling on Helga's neck as they 
walked. She giggled wildly.

* * *

Our outing was a splendid success. We ate our lunch 
early. It consisted of fried chicken, celery stalks, 
bread rolls and lemonade from a thermos. Afterwards we 
decided to climb trees, and little Helga proved to be 
most adept at the task, climbing more quickly and higher 
than the rest of us. We had taken off our shoes, and the 
four of us remained clad in t shirts and shorts, until 
Anton took off his shirt, because of the heat and I soon 
followed. 

I found his almost naked body to be stunning, an 
observation that, again, caused me some unease. High in 
the tree Helga took off her t shirt as well, and, 
although she had nothing to hide but a flat chest, 
Katrina insisted that she put it back on. Then, for 
awhile, we played a German version of kick the can, 
during which the dust of the Earth clung to our sweaty 
bodies.

After three hours of frolicking, we packed up and 
retreated back down the dirt path. Katrina and I held 
hands like old friends. When we reached the road, she 
and Helga decided to go to the little girl's house. 

Katrina, in parting, gave me a brief kiss on the lips, 
which amazed and excited me. Anton kissed Helga a bit 
longer, his one hand at the back of her head and the 
other on the flesh of her slender upper arm. She had her 
arms around his waist.

Anton and I went down the road in the opposite 
direction, towards his house. I wondered about his 
relationship with his eleven year old cousin, but I was 
too shy to inquire.

"I'm gritty," he said. "We will have to take a shower." 

"You seemed to get on well with Katrina," he continued. 

"She's a very lovely girl," I replied. "I like her a 
lot."

"Maybe you will become her boyfriend. She has never had 
a boy."

I was unsure of what he implied by the term "boyfriend."

"Is Helga your girlfriend?"

"Not yet. We are still just kissing cousins." He giggled 
like a girl and then said, "I think, though, that I will 
have her this Summer."

I did not dare to ask what he meant by "have her", 
although I had more than a clue. It was hard for me to 
understand how he could speak so lightly about such 
things. I assumed that he was talking about sex, 
incestuous sex.

"Maybe you will have Katrina this Summer too."

I could not think of a response.

We reached the house and discovered that no one was at 
home. We went up to Anton's room, which was large and 
had its own bath. In the middle of the room he pulled 
down his shorts and underpants, revealing the rest of 
him. He was uncut, of course, and had just a small patch 
of pubic hair. His flaccid penis dangled perhaps three 
inches and was not thick.

"Come on, let's take a shower," he said, looking at me, 
waiting for me to undress. At school the guys showered 
together, but I felt nervous about doing it with Anton, 
because I felt that I had developed a mild crush on him. 
Still, I disrobed and was not too embarrassed by the 
half erect condition of my cock, which was longer and 
thicker than his. I also had more hair, but it was 
blonde and not all that distracting.

We got into the shower stall, which was not really made 
for more than one person. Our bodies were in constant 
touch. My cock became fully erect, jutting out almost 
six inches, and in our proximity it rubbed against his 
hip and his abdomen.

"I've never seen a cut one before," he remarked, looking 
down at my member.

"I've never seen an uncut one," I responded, looking at 
his, which was then half erect.

"I suppose it feels the same, cut and uncut," he 
observed.

"I suppose."

Anton lathered his groin with the soap and stroked his 
cock to full erection. The tip of his glans emerged from 
his foreskin.

"Ah, it feels so good," he murmured, and he handed me 
the soap.

I watched him in astonishment as he slowly masturbated, 
his eyes closed, a smile on his lips. I became very 
aroused, soaped my cock and joined him. He groaned, 
grasped my upper arm and squirted forth, a high pitched 
grunt for each spurt. I was not far behind, and when I 
came, I pulled him to me and shot all over his stomach. 
The pelting shower rinsed away my seed very quickly. 
Anton looked at me with a sly grin.

"I've never done it with another guy before," he 
remarked, looking me in the face. "Have you?"

"No," I replied, and added, the words falling from my 
mouth before I could censor them, "but I enjoyed doing 
it with you."

"Let's do it again soon," he responded matter-of-factly.

We got out of the shower and dried ourselves. Naked, I 
followed him back into the bed room, staring at the back 
of his legs and his perky butt, finally acknowledging 
that I wanted to stroke his flesh.

At his dresser Anton stopped and turned to me.

"I know that I am not queer," he said, "because I intend 
to fuck Helga this Summer. And you are not queer either, 
because you are going to fuck Katrina. But, if you like, 
we could experiment with each other."

He looked into my face, his head slightly cocked, 
wanting an affirmative answer from me. I was hard again, 
as was he. I nodded my head, not knowing what I was 
letting myself in for. Anton placed an arm around my 
shoulder, squeezing me in a friendly manner. His 
attitude was jovial. His arm still on my shoulder, he 
opened the top drawer of his dresser, pushed aside some 
underclothes and revealed a stash of condoms.

"My dad lets me have them," he explained. "He owns a 
pharmacy in Reit-im-Winkel."

I picked one up and examined it. I had never seen one 
before.

"Let's try one on," Anton suggested as he unwrapped a 
condom.

He looked at me and saw my confused concern.

"Lighten up, Johann, we're just playing." At home I'm 
called John.

I did relax a bit, and grinned at my friend as I also 
unwrapped a condom. We sat on the edge of the bed and 
proceeded to roll the latex sheathes onto our rigid 
cocks. It felt strange, but pleasant.

"Of course, when I fuck Helga and you fuck Katrina, we 
will have wear one of these."

I nodded dumbly, not comprehending how I could ever come 
to fuck Katrina, although I was certain, Helga being 
willing, that Anton would fuck that Summer. We didn't 
fool around with each other any further that day, most 
likely because we heard a car door shut outside. We 
quickly dressed.

As I walked back to my grandparents house, I found it 
difficult to collect my thoughts. Perhaps, I thought, 
Katrina was really available to me. I knew that I was 
going to have homosexual "experiments" with Anton. It 
troubled me that I wanted Anton as much as Katrina.

***

The next morning, before I had finished breakfast, I 
heard Anton outside calling for me. I stuffed the 
remainder of my food into my mouth, my grandma scowling 
as I did so, and ran out the back door to greet my 
friend. He was clad in lederhosen and a white shirt. He 
looked so beautiful. 

He told me that he wanted to show me his secret place, a 
magic place that no one else knew about. We then set 
out, trudging up a mountain path. He held my hand, and 
it did not trouble me. I knew that I would do things 
with him that morning that I would never have dreamed of 
two days before, forbidden things. But we would do it in 
a magic place, away from the rest of the world.

We hiked for almost an hour. We finally went around a 
large outcropping of rock and then, before us, was a 
small valley on the mountain side, a dell, although had 
no trees. It was strewn with wildflowers and a small 
stream ran from it. Anton pulled on my hand and we ran 
down into that place, which was truly magic. It had a 
special fragrance which I cannot describe, except to say 
that it made me giddy. 

We fell to the ground and rolled around in the grass and 
the flowers. Then we quieted. We were close together, 
looking into each other's face in expectation. I took 
his nearby arm, raised it and inspected it. I stroked 
the underside of the forearm, so hairless and smooth. I 
brought it to my mouth and licked on it. I kneaded his 
upper arm, again so soft, until Anton made a muscle and 
grinned at me. He then moved and got half on top of me. 
He kissed my lips and I kiss back. 

I had lost all of my inhibitions. I clung to him and we 
kissed for a long time, our tongues, eventually, 
venturing forth to discover new delights. I was not 
"experimenting". I was in love. My cock was rigid, as 
was Anton's. 

We quickly got naked and then embraced again, pushing 
our flesh against each other's. We really didn't know 
what we were going to do. We kissed as I took hold of 
his cock. I pumped on it gently, wanting to give my dear 
friend pleasure. I looked into his beautiful face as I 
stroked him. His lips were apart, expectant.

"Faster! Do it faster!"

I increased my tempo and saw, suddenly, his face contort 
as he spewed forth. I milked his cock until he was again 
relaxed. I felt his semen on my hand.. I licked a glob 
of it into my mouth and swallowed it.

"How does it taste?"

"Not bad, considering the source."

He pushed at my shoulder and gave me a wondrous grin. I 
lay on my back, knowing that Anton was going to give me 
pleasure. He raised himself on an elbow, leaned down and 
kissed my face all over. He kissed my shoulder and 
licked my neck. He suckled one of my nipples and then 
the other. He kissed down my chest, and I suddenly knew 
what he was about to do.

The realization excited and horrified me, because I knew 
that I would have to do to him what he did to me. He 
took my cock into his mouth. I had never felt anything 
more arousing. Within seconds I spewed into his mouth. 
He coughed and choked a bit and quickly pulled his mouth 
off my cock, getting a spurt on his cheek and another on 
his nose. He was conscientious, however, and finished me 
by hand, my goo dripping from his face.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," I said, although I was pleased and amused 
by it all.

Anton spit and spit on the ground. He did not like the 
taste, although, to my shame, I did. I looked forward to 
sucking his cock. I had decided that I was queer, even 
though I wanted to fuck Katrina.

We went to the stream and Anton washed out his mouth.

"I don't think that I want to do that again," he said, 
"but I'm glad to have done it at least once."

"When do you want me to do you?" I inquired.

He looked at me gently, palmed my cheek, and said 
"pretty soon."

We waded in the cold, shallow stream, arms around each 
other's naked bodies, so splendidly beautiful in their 
youth, away from the rest of the world in a magic place. 
We stopped and Anton kissed me fervently.

"I want it now," he said.

He lay among the flowers. His young body so gorgeous, 
sleek and smooth. I wanted to lick on his flesh, but I 
just went down on him, taking his slender cock into my 
mouth, the taste and texture of it exciting me. I sucked 
on him and eagerly awaited the flood of his seed, which 
came rather quickly. I stayed on him until he became 
soft. 

Then I swallowed. I could not imagine doing it with 
anyone else but him. I wasn't a queer, I told myself. I 
liked girls. I still wanted to fuck Katrina.

I looked down on my friend Anton, the only friend that I 
had ever had, the taste of him still in my mouth. I 
stroked his sleek thigh. He looked up at me and said, 
"thanks."

"The only other thing for us to experiment on is butt 
fucking," he said some minutes later, after he had 
recovered from the enormity of his orgasm. I shuddered 
at the thought of it.

"I don't think so," I responded.

END

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

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