Europe with Spartacus

By Bill Jonners

Published on Apr 26, 2020

Gay

The story is written by my friend Fred in Norway with some input by me and is completely fictional. Ivar is a youngster of the writer's imagination, and so are the men he meets on his `educational journey'.

If any of our readers have comments we are always happy for feedback. All emails to colin4men@gmail.com will be answered.

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Europe with Spartacus

Chapter 26

Finale (1976)

Ivar was in West Berlin, a place he had wanted to visit for many years, a city he had heard about all his teen life. The Wall, the escapes, the killings, the political trauma, all was related to Berlin.

Today Archie had taken Ivar and his secretary Jean on a guided tour in central West Berlin. They ended with a walk up the famous main street Strasse des 17 Juni all the way from the Victory Column to Brandenburger Tor, the gate that today divided the city. Ivar was sorry to see that a lot of the famous gate was hidden behind the wall.

"I remember 1961 when the wall was built. I worked in the Foreign Office in those days. The embassy was in Bonn, but I was often in Berlin." Archie pointed and lectured like a real guide.

"I was here in 1963 as well, and you were hardly born, Ivar. I guess you don't know what famous person was here that year?" Archie placed a loving arm around Ivar's shoulders. He had been very close to the Norwegian lad all day, different from in Amsterdam where Ivar had felt him a bit distanced.

" Ich bin ein Berliner! That was President John F. Kennedy's expression, wasn't it?" Ivar knew his contemporary history. Earlier that day he had impressed Archie when he addressed some of Archie's colleges in quite fluent German.

The group passed the fence with all the white memorial crosses for Germans shot in the flight across the border over the years. They also passed the former German parliament, the Reichstag, before Archie invited his two younger companions to an outdoor heated restaurant in the park. The lunch with German sausages and fried potatoes mixed with sauerkraut had been quite familiar to Ivar, but the more sophisticated Jean talked about more exotic food.

"I want to show you another tourist spot, Ivar. I guess it could be of some interests to a cool teenager like you." Archie pinched Ivar's butt. The group had taken the U-bahn a bit west. "Have you heard of the name Beate Uhse? Archie pointed out a building across the street.

"I know my sex guide, sir. The lady opened the first porn-shop in the world just after the war, didn't she?" Ivar grinned. He saw the name across the modern building.

"Well, I guess it was called an erotic shop, or something, but you are correct. And she even presented porn for women, you know." Archie pointed. "You have one of the stores over there. Rumours say it will be an erotic museum in some years. Not far from the gay centre of Berlin either." Archie stopped in front of a map.

"Here you have Schšneberg!" He showed Ivar an area to the south. "Jean and I will meet you at the U-bahn station Nollendorfplatz at ten o'clock tonight. I have a place for us to visit. If we don't arrive you have an easy journey back to the hotel."

"Will we have supper together, sir?" Ivar was not in need of company, but in a way he felt it was his turn to be a sort of host.

"No, sorry Bonnie Lad! We have a formal meeting this afternoon with supper before we finish. We will leave you here to look around. The famous street KurfŸrstedamm is just around the corner, and it's only a short distance home to Potzdamer Platz." Archie pointed out the route.

"You want a beer now, love?" Archie touched him very gently. "You'd better be in good shape tonight Viking, because I'm gonna fuck you so you will never forget your time in Berlin." Archie had whispered as he opened the door to a modern bierstube just across from the famous Kaiser Wilhelm Kirche.

Ivar blushed and followed the men inside. It was a pub filled with men who gave way for the newcomers, and Ivar had many eyes on his body when he went to the bar for large glasses of dark beer.

Archie and Jean hurried off afterwards for their afternoon meeting. Ivar looked at his watch. He had plenty of time, and he was not in mood for shopping. His small hand luggage was already overfilled. "I wonder what this famous erotic establishment is like, he said to himself. He left the bar, crossed the street and looked for the modern building with the huge sign. "Erotic, just like that!" Ivar thought. "Not in a sleazy street like in Copenhagen, or in a hidden basement-shop as in Soho in London."

He was soon inside the store and found it was similar to those in other cities. "Movies upstairs. Choose your own favourite!" A man pointed to the stairs. But Ivar had seen some interesting tools. Different beads connected with threads, in different sizes, and different materials. They were locked in a cabinet.

"You want to touch them, sir?" A very handsome young man came up to Ivar and opened the cabinet. There were black and red versions of the anal beads, and steel ones too. The coloured ones were made in a soft material. "Good for shows; they expand," the youngster explained. "The steel ones, as you can feel, are heavy and solid. Really stretching!" Ivar let the heavy material weigh in his fist.

"What do you prefer yourself?" Ivar couldn't understand why he teased the youngster; a lad maybe his own age.

"When I strip I use the black one, but I can manage the fourth on this one too." He played with the steel item.

"You're a stripper Ð here?" Ivar was curious. "No, not here in the store, but we have a club up there." He pointed at a spiral staircase running from the store up towards a sort of glass ceiling. Ivar saw people moving up there and he heard some music.

"No access today, sorry. There is an audition going on." The lad smiled. "I thought you might be here for the audition yourself," he added as he put a hand on Ivar's shoulder. "I'll pack up the steel beads, but come, I'll show you upstairs."

Ivar was very curious and he was horny too. The lad from the store placed him in the shadows. The room had a glass floor and you could see the store underneath. All the walls were lined with mirrors and the only furniture was a red lacquer sofa. The room was heavily lit and two professional camera guys were in action. In the background Ivar saw two men and a woman watching, and from the ceiling you could follow both cameras on huge screens.

A man in his twenties had just started his show when Ivar arrived. "Too hairy to be a stripper!" Ivar thought. "And too thin!"

The next guy up was very sexy, and he undressed on the sofa, before he danced in tight briefs with a very visible bulge. Ivar was sorry when the youngster was stopped.

Only one young man was left; probably the most professional. He stripped his clothes one by one with very sensual movements. Ivar almost didn't notice that the young salesman from the store had left for a moment, and now he was back placing a hand on the bare skin between Ivar's top and his low-cut jeans. Ivar was so hypnotised by the music and the atmosphere that he had started to dance himself, using his arms as if he was performing. The last dancer stopped when he was wearing only a white g-string with a rather small pouch. Ivar clapped with enthusiasm. Suddenly he was hit by a spotlight, and was partly blinded.

"Come on, youngster. Show us your skills!" a man shouted. Ivar did not understand that he was wanted inside, but the youngster from downstairs pushed Ivar forward. "Go on kid, do your job. You're sexier than all of them together," he whispered close to Ivar, who still hesitated.

"Damn!" Ivar thought. "Why not? I stripped in Copenhagen, and I've danced in a show in Paris, and I love the music here." With sexy movements and his hands above the head adjusting his wild fair hair, he entered the stage in front of the red sofa. He was both horny and ready.

The strong lights disturbed him, but he could see his own body in the mirrors. His top and his small singlet ended up in a helicopter movement above his head. Ivar saw that his armpits were shadowed. "I should have shaved," he thought as he tried to look sexy. He played with his nipples and made them hard while rolling his hips. With great assertiveness he sat down on the sofa, lifted his legs and kicked off the thin boots he wore. He then laid backwards, spread his legs and cupped his bulge, before he, in long slow movements, pulled off his white socks. Both of them touched his nose and tongue before he threw them on the floor. Barefoot and shirtless, with a grin, he danced around the sofa to the rear. He knew that the tight jeans would be difficult, not easy to pull off in a sexy way. He then remembered that he only had put on a sports-jock for the day. Now he turned his back to the camera and showed off his naked globes. In one movement he dived backwards onto the sofa and stripped off his jeans in one movement. His only piece of clothing now was the jock. Ivar knew he was sporting a heavy erection, but the sports-jock made the bulge quite tight. He was about to end his show.

"Go on, kid! Give us the rest!" came a voice. "Give us more, sexy," another voice shouted. Someone changed the music. In slow motion Ivar turned to the sofa and removed his last piece of clothing, then he turned back using the thong to cover his hard-on.

"More, more!" was heard. "Come on, baby!" was heard too. Ivar lifted his balls and his stiff cock with the thong, before he held the thong in one hand above his head. The other hand played with his cock and balls. He made the cockhead free with some light wanking movements. He knew that if he wanted to, he could have spunked off without any problems, but he had reached his limit now, so he stopped. He ended with both hands above his head, as if he was taking applause. Then he lay back on the sofa, found the thong and covered his pride.

The show was done. The strong light was switched off and Ivar saw that the room was filled with a small cheering audience. A lady (!) came up to him with a bathrobe, and the young man from the store had his clothes.

An hour later Ivar wrote a post-card to his friend Trym up north: "The boss offered me a job. I could strip in the club the same evening and night, and next weekend. Well paid! I declined. I'm on my way to Scotland again. Take care. Greet the lads for me! "

Ivar smiled when he put the card in the postbox. He could have told Trym that he had been paid for the show in Berlin with a blow-job from the salesman in the shop, and in addition he had been given the steel bead arse-toy for free.

"I wonder if they will sell my stripping video?" Ivar thought. "I don't give a damn. Nobody here knows me anyway."


Ivar had waited for ten minutes outside Nollendorfplatz U-bahn station. It was cold with light rain when a very young boy came from the shadows and stood in front of him.

"I'll suck you for ten, sir!" The lad was lightly dressed in the cold weather. "Or you can fuck me for twenty!" Ivar watched the big begging eyes and the wet hair.

"You are too young, kid!" Ivar said. "Fourteen?"

"Fuck!" The boy came closer, grabbed Ivar's hand and placed it on his crotch. "I'm not, I'll serve you well." The boy was not only selling service. He was hard and horny.

"You live around here?" Ivar asked. "You have a place to go?"

"We can use the entryway, sir." The youngster pointed at a building across the street.

"Go to the cafŽ inside and buy yourself some food, kid! Take this!" Ivar handed the young boy a twenty mark note.

"But sirÉ" The youngster's hand was inside Ivar's coat.

"No buts. Go on. Get yourself some food!" Ivar said.

"Are you sure he's not going direct to his boss around the corner?" Archie said. He had watched the intermezzo.

"He was not a professional," Ivar said. "Just a horny boy that needed some pocket money. I'm ready for the treatment you promised me, sir. I'm damned cold now."

The three hurried down the dark street. Some lights here and there told of open establishments. Archie stopped in front of a rather neutral door and pressed the button marked Club. Some movement in the window beside the door and then a buzz, made them open the door. Once inside, a warm atmosphere met them. A leather-dressed guy appeared. Ivar and Jean entered a changing room while Archie made some arrangements.

"I'll take your clothes, gentlemen." The man was very formal.

"What do you want me to wear, sir?" Ivar asked, uncertain of the dress code.

"Nothing!" Archie said. "Just this." He placed a thin necklace around Ivar's neck. A short leash was connected. "And I want you secured." He showed off a set of handcuffs. "Hands behind your back."

Ivar was not comfortable, but he whispered a "Yes, sir!"

When Archie and Jean had undressed Ivar saw that both of them were wearing black thongs; Archie kept his black boots on.

"Have fun, Ivar! Remember Berlin. You're a prince in chains, boy. My prince!" Archie squeezed Ivar's nipples and wanked him lightly. Ten seconds of service and Ivar was not only a prince, but a damned erect teenager.

The group entered the next room; a rather big room where men of all ages were sitting or lying in a sort of amphitheatre. At the front were three screens, two showing heavy porn, and one screen just showing an empty stage. The music was intense, but not too loud.

Ivar looked around. Most of the men were naked; some were dressed like Archie. A couple of youngsters were slave-dressed like himself. The action in the room, except from some wanking and some petting, was drowsy.

"Time for some action here, guys!" Archie led the two to a sofa in the middle of the room. "You open the kid for me!" Archie ordered, pushing Jean down beside Ivar.

"You mean here, sir?" Jean hesitated.

"Of course, where else?" Archie snarled, turned around and went up to a table at the end of the room. Four youngsters, all dark-haired in white g-strings, possibly eastern boys, were standing there drinking beer. Two minutes later and two of them followed Archie through a heavy curtain into the next room.

"He likes them young!" Jean said with gritted teeth.

"Please get me a drink, Jean! Something strong, and bring a straw. Make it a double!" Ivar shook his cuffed hands.

Ivar got his gin-tonic and Jean helped him drink with cuffed hands. Ivar knelt down on the sofa with his butt fully visible. His front rested on the side of the sofa. He could reach the drink when Jean started to rim him. While rimming his arse, Jean played with Ivar's hard balls and dripping cock. When he pushed the youngster's foreskin behind the glans, Ivar whined with lust. The strong drink made him lose all his reservations.

"Strip, Jean. I want to have you naked! Mr Archie is entertaining himself!" He nodded towards the huge screen. The two teen-like boys were wrestling, with Archie as a sort of judge, kneeling and showing parts of his cock above the leather thong.

Jean pulled down the front of his pouch and let his cock free. With straps like a harness, he was very macho and fucked Ivar's mouth like a tight cunt. Ivar gagged, but let Jean go on.

After a heavy round Ivar lifted his head while spit and mucous was dripping from his mouth. "Fuck me, Jean! Fuck me now!" he commanded. On the screen the two youngsters fought for Archie's 25 cm (10 inch) weapon with their lips and tongues.

"But what will Mr ArchieÉ" Jean tried to talk.

"Fuck himÉhe seems to be fully occupied! I need a cock inside me now, come on! Just use my pre-cum for lube. No jelly here, I guess." Ivar turned around and placed one leg on the backrest, the other on Jean's shoulder. Again Jean worked him, now with spit and fingers. The two on the sofa had the audience's attention now. Jean pulled the leash and Ivar responded by opening his boy-cunt for the intruder. Ivar howled, more for the show he was putting on, than because of pain. Jean's stiff cock was rather modest compared to Archie's huge cock that was now mouth-fucking the two youngsters on the screen.

Ivar felt uncomfortable because of the cuffs. "I'd better ride you, Jean!" Ivar said as he tried to climb on to the waiting body. He didn't see Archie who turned up from behind. With a hard grip around the leash he pulled Ivar to a standing position. The open hand hit Ivar's buttocks. Another hand hit Jean's ear.

"So you couldn't resist, eh? Just wait, slave. I'll have to cage you again." Archie gave his secretary another light slap. "And you kid, you need a lesson I thinkÉ" He pulled Ivar by the leash into the next room. Jean followed, a bit crestfallen.

Archie placed Ivar in the middle of the `stage', cuffed his legs to a leg-spreader and hooked the handcuffs to a chain from the ceiling. The next open hand spanks made Ivar's buttocks turn red. Ivar received the spanks with tear-filled eyes, but not a sound from his mouth. Archie went to the front and found Ivar's balls and cupped them hard between thumb and forefinger. By pulling the balls down, he made the cock both shine and drip.

"Oh Viking boy, you love this, don't you?" he whispered in Ivar's ears. "Look at all the men behind the bars here, all the wanking men with just one thought. They would like to fuck you, prince. All of them, but you're mine alone tonight, eh?"

"I am, sir. Will you fuck me, sir? I need to cum, sir!" Ivar whispered.

"I'll tell you when to cum, son! Be sure, but you are not hot enough yet." He played with Ivar's pink buttocks. "I have something you will love." Archie waved to the man from the reception. He came and placed a small table beside the `stage'.

"You can take this, kid?" Archie showed him a long, steel, cone-shaped butt-plug with a metal ring. He greased it with jelly and in one movement he penetrated the youngster. Then Archie found a set of steel clamps connected with a metal string. Ivar moaned when Archie placed the clamps on his already erect nipples. The last item Archie showed Ivar was a solid metal cockring that he placed tight behind the lad's balls and cockroot.

Ivar wasn't happy when he saw that Archie was now linking all the steel equipment to an electrical cord. He was not at all used to this business, even if Col had taught him some in Paris and Archie had tried some hard play with him before.

"We don't have to scare these soft Germans," Archie said, and gagged Ivar with a ball-gag. He lent forward and whispered. "Wink three times and I stop, okay?" Ivar answered with a demonstration.

"Suck him, Jean!" Archie placed Jean kneeling in front. He himself was standing watching Ivar in chains, a hot view. The super stiff cock showed that Ivar was into this play. After some minutes Archie pushed Jean aside. Ivar's cock was dripping wet.

In the beginning the electric stimulation was just like insects crawling on his body. After a while the insects started to bite, Ivar said afterwards. Archie used the electric switch to vary the intensity. The youngster's eyes and his shaking movements showed the audience that the lad was in pain, but every time Archie slowed down Ivar's body relaxed.

"Let's see if we can make the steel dildo fuck your sweet cunt like a real horse-cock!" Archie grinned and focused on the button for the arse. Ivar howled inside the gag; his body was shaking, and his cock was dripping pre-cum as if he was ejaculating. The stimulation accelerated and Ivar tried to lift himself by the chains. Archie gave full intensity and then closed down, again and again. Ivar suddenly pushed his hips forward, the cock grew in volume, and then he started to shoot. The cumming was like an explosion; the white clots landed on the floor in front. The hands-free spunking was a demonstration of a youngster's virility. More than one of the onlookers showed their own excitement. When Archie again turned the electricity button, Ivar's eyes turned wild. He couldn't take more. The sign to Archie was very obvious.

"Good boy! Damn good boy!" Archie patted Ivar's wet hair and freed him from the gag. "You are really satisfied now, Ivar?"

With a sort of teasing look, Ivar grinned. "Nice foreplay, sir! I'm just waiting for your cock now. You are wet, I see." Archie's thong had a wet front.

"Get him some water, Jean, and stop wanking. I'll put you up here later!" Archie sneered.

Ivar whined when the steel clamps were removed from his nipples but he still stayed hard when the cockring was removed. Up till now he hadn't studied the room. Through railings on both sides of the room he could see men having sex. In the far end of the room was a darker open alcove with a leather bench where a couple were fucking doggy-style.

"Let me untie you, baby boy!" Archie said. He removed the leg spreader bar and unlocked him from the chains. After just a small break he pulled Ivar by the leash up to the bench and made him lie down on his front with his butt to the open room. The electrical cord was still hanging from the steel plug in his arse. In slow motion Archie pulled out the conical plug. Ivar groaned when the plug stretched his sphincter.

"Stay still. Don't move!" Archie gave Ivar another spank. Then he turned around and looked at the small audience. He signalled to the two youngsters he had played with earlier and placed them beside Ivar. Finally he pushed Jean to the bench. Four men with spread legs showed off male cunts ready to be fucked. Archie found a huge tin of cream beside the bench and filled the four arses. Then he turned to another youngster standing naked with an open mouth.

"Grease me kid, grease we well!" Archie pulled down the thong and showed off his 25 cm (10 inch) man-cock. The youngster knew what to do and Archie's dickhead was soon shining. Now he looked at the audience.

"Half an hour for inspection; you may lick and fuck, but no cock inside the Viking. He's mine." Archie stepped aside and let the watching men play with the four bodies in front of him.

Both the youngsters shot their loads during the heavy play, and so did Jean, but Ivar managed to take the tongues, the lips and the fingers without erupting.

"That's it, guys. Let me end this show!" He went up to Ivar and whispered, "You okay, son?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just want your cock, sir. Fuck me, sir. Let me cum again, please," Ivar whispered.

During the next half hour Archie fucked the four guys. As soon as he felt that one of them was reaching the edge, he changed to one of the others. Soon the intensity and the moaning told everybody that even Archie was about to finish his mission. He turned Ivar around with his cock still inside him, locked his feet beside Ivar's head and bottomed him all the way. For the next several minutes he fucked Ivar with long and hard strokes. He pulled out and forced his huge cock inside the open hole again and again.

With a sore scream Ivar spunked off for the second time, drenching his own body. Archie pulled out, jerked his cock hard, and added his man-cream to the young body.

"Please baptise this young man!" Archie looked around. Ivar closed his eyes and felt hot jizz drenching his head and body.

"Clean him, all the way, you bastards!" Archie shouted and left the room for the toilet.


Ivar was happy when he boarded the plane for London. The stay in Berlin had been great and the two weeks tour from Glasgow to London and then Amsterdam and Berlin had been a real event. But Ivar longed to get back to Scotland, back to Aunt Bunty's little hotel in Greenock, and back to Doug. During the last few days he had felt that a life with Archie and Jean wasn't his kind of life, and he longed for Doug's arms and the silent mornings in the bed up in the Highlands. He longed for the smell of newly-made coffee in Uncle George's kitchen, and he longed for Doug's hard morning-cock that searched his arse crack to find the love-entrance. Doug was never in a hurry, but when he then found his target, he was like a tiger. Ivar loved those morning fucks where he had to be a lamb attacked by a wolf from the moor.

Archie had hugged him when they had said goodbye and let his lips meet the warm neck. He was not sure if he would see Ivar again this winter.

"I'm not sure that I have time to see my mother during Easter." Archie was searching for the words. "And I understand that you are to return to Norway soon..so..maybe..?"

"We will stay in touch, sir. I'm so happy for all you have done for me, a great tour, and lots ofÉentertainment!" Ivar stammered. "And tell Jean I'll miss his company."

"Make contact when you visit London or Scotland in the future, `Eevar'. You will always find a bed...with me." Archie grinned, hugged Ivar again and left.

The airport in London was always busy and Ivar struggled to find the correct exit. He was happy to have purchased a ticket for a train so soon after his return to England and now he was on the train bound for Scotland. He found his Spartacus Guide and tried to reach a conclusion about his trip. He could have gone to Rome and he could have travelled to Spain, but he was happy with his long stay in France and he was looking forward to Aunt Bunty's kitchen. "And her Friday cleaning!" Ivar closed the book and soon he was in dreamland.

Doug was waiting for him at the station in Glasgow. Even in the middle of all the people he hugged the youngster very close. "I've missed you, my bonnie love!" Doug said. "Hope it is okay for you to go direct to the farm. Uncle George is waiting for us. He has missed you too, you know."

"But I have my winter clothes with Aunt Bunty, and there's snow up in the Trossachs, I heard." Ivar had planned to go to Greenock first. He had talked to both Bunty and Kenny that morning and Kenny looked forward to being replaced.

"You don't need clothes. I want you naked all weekend!" Doug smiled and took care of Ivar's bag. They hurried to the van which had been parked quite illegally.

"Will Boyd be home this weekend too?" Ivar asked. There had been some hot threesomes during Ivar's stay at the farm during the winter.

"No, he is dating his princess in Edinburgh!" Doug was teasing.

"Mason is no princess!" Ivar argued. "He's very different from you Scottish bulls, but he is a fucking good lover. And he's still a school-kid."

"Aye, he is. And Boyd adores him!" Doug speeded up. The sun was about to hide behind the hillsides.

"So he is not that jealous any more then?" Ivar moved closer to Doug and found his leg. "Have you told him that you plan to live with me in Norway next year?"

"No, I haven't, and I haven't told Uncle George either. We should wait until you get an answer from your military service, I think. And I must talk to my professor too! You know the date for the military testing?" Doug let Ivar play with his bulge.

"I have to go to Stavanger at the beginning of May for a Military Induction Session, but it is just for one day," Ivar responded.

"And you plan to stay in Greenock all winter?" Doug's cock was growing.

"If the old lady is happy with me, and needs my help. If not, I will have to move in with you, or maybe Uncle George would like a bed buddy?" Ivar grinned.

"Don't even suggest it. He would open his arms and his bed too! You know he adores you?" Doug unzipped and let his 25 cm (10 inch) veiny cock get free for Ivar's hand and mouth treatment.

"You'll have to stop Ivar, or I'll spunk off here, and I want to do it all over your great body. We will soon be at Uncle George's, you know." Doug drove into the only street in the small village.


Ivar hoped the morning in Doug's bed would never end, but when his bladder dictated that he had to get up and the smell of coffee found its way from the kitchen, he just jumped out of bed. He found a pair of Doug's wide boxers and hurried downstairs. The bathroom was placed behind the kitchen. Ivar yawned and stretched. The tenting from his morning glory was like an invitation for the old hunter who worked at the stove. When Ivar hugged him good morning a searching hand found his dick for an inspection.

"Be careful!" Ivar whispered. "I really need to pee."

"Go ahead lad, and please sit down for a coffee afterwards. The fireplace is working well. There's heavy snow outside, but you don't need to dress until we leave." Uncle George gave Ivar a light spank on his bum before he went on with the breakfast preparations.

As always, the guys sat down with George for a long breakfast. Through the window behind the table they could follow the awakening of the narrow street. They could also see the church tower with its old clock; now showing eight.

The silent morning was broken by the old-fashioned telephone ring. "It's for you, Doug Ð your cousin!" Uncle George served Ivar more coffee.

"All the horses disappeared during night. The wind has torn down the fence and I have to look for them." Doug looked at Ivar who was unhappy for his friend's problem.

"Don't worry, Ivar. These Icelandics are used to snow and ice, but we have to find them. Please go with uncle to the shanty. I don't want him to drive alone in this weather." Doug emptied his mug.

"What did you say, lad?" The old man straightened up and tried to look stern.

"I just said that young Ivar will be company for you today until I'm done with the horses. You'll take the jeep, won't you?" Doug was very polite, but for a man just five years ahead of Ivar, he was very direct speaking. Ivar looked at his lover from the hot night upstairs. In a baggy pair of boxers and a singlet that was too short, he wasn't looking exactly like an Adonis. But Ivar knew that he probably could learn to love that redhead outside of bed too.


The snow was heavy and Uncle George had to park the jeep some hundred metres from the cottage. The grey stone walls were hardly seen through the snowdrifts. The two were quite wet and tired when they at last reached the clearing in the forest. Both carried heavy backpacks and beside that the old man was carrying a gun and a hunting bag.

"Please get some snow off the roof, Ivar, while I try to open the door here. We have plenty of wood in the shelter and there's water in the well." Uncle George looked younger and happier than Ivar had seen him since he first visited his home just after New Year.

The two men worked for some hours, and Ivar had collected wood and water before the older man called Ivar to come inside. The room was hot and cosy, but quite dark. He saw that beds had been arranged on two sides, and he saw that tinned supper and drinks were ready. He managed to get rid of the snow before he entered the room, and George helped him with his boots and jacket. He was wet and cold, but sweating too.

"There's a small washroom and a loo behind the wall. I've filled the stone-tub with hot water. Undress, and I'll help you to get the heat back in your body." Uncle George did not ask. He ordered. Ivar undressed and placed all his wet clothes above the fireplace. Naked he felt the old man's searching eyes.

"Go on, kid! Don't be shy. I have seen a naked lad before." George helped Ivar to climb into the small tub. "Hands above your head, son. No room to sit down, I'll wash you!" With soap and hot water Uncle George washed Ivar from head to toes. The lad's arse, balls and dick were no exception, and when Ivar very soon presented an iron-hard erection, the old man smiled. "It's not strange that Doug acts the way he does around you," he murmured. "If I had been youngerÉ"

"You don't have to be younger, sir. You are great. Let me help you now. You are getting wet." The man did not protest when Ivar undressed him of the woollen undershirt and his long-johns. The old body was stone-hard, created by years of hard work. Ivar smiled when he saw that old George had been quite excited while working with his young body. The grown-up cock, surrounded by grey hair, told Ivar that both Doug and his brother Boyd had inherited family-sized tools.

Without asking Ivar knelt beside the tub and washed the man's balls and cock. It took some time to get the cock fully hard but, when Ivar used his lips, tongue and open mouth, Uncle George presented a 20 cm (8 inch) veiny cock with a mushroom head.

"You don't have to, son! Save your energy for Doug when he arrives," George said, but he did not turn away. Ivar was dripping hot when he towelled the old chap and helped him to lie down on the bed. He then climbed onto the bed and knelt between George's legs. He ran his hands over the old man's hairy chest and then bent down to kiss, lick and play with his nipples. The old man moaned and took care of Ivar's head and kissed him deep.

"Ride me, son. I would love to feel your tight arse. Doug has told meÉ everything." The man shivered when Ivar sucked and licked his cock for a few minutes.

"Let me open you now. Kneel in front of my face!" The man helped Ivar to move. He worked on the open arse with tongue and fingers and he sucked Ivar's cock with a senior's skill. Ivar was about to cum, but he managed to cool down.

"Use the fat up there!" Uncle George pointed at a box on the shelf above. "I taught the lads to use that farmers' cream when they started to wank, and it still works, I think!" He grinned, opened the box and greased up Ivar's arse and his own mushroom.

George helped Ivar in position. The lad pushed down and winced slightly as the big cock entered him.

"Now ride me son, but take it easy. We have time enough. Doug will not be here for some hours!" The old man did not wait but started to push up into Ivar's tight boy-cunt.

"How does he know that Doug will be late?" Ivar thought. "Maybe the two haveÉ" He was not able to think any more. George was pounding in and out and played with his prostate.

"Oh, I'm going to cum," warned Ivar. "Damn! I'm cumming!" He gasped and began shooting off hands-free. His cum flew into the air and ended up splattered over the man's hairy chest and stomach.

Uncle George had not finished. He let Ivar ride for a while, then he took an active role again. For half an hour the two took care of each other on the narrow bed in the light from the open fireplace. Ivar was soon reaching another climax and wanked his 19 cm (7.5 inch) cock for a second shooting. He thought about old Andersen in Copenhagen who had taught him how a youngster should act when his lover was a real grown-up. He used his arse muscles and fucked the spear inside. George, who had been almost silent for a long time, roared like an animal when he spat his load inside Ivar's hot body. Minutes later George took care of Ivar's cock. He placed it inside his mouth and sucked him until Ivar sent a second load of boy-milk into the old Scottish gentleman.

"Thank you, Ivar." He licked his lips. "Medicine for an old body!"

A still naked Ivar, inside a huge blanket, waited for the supper to be ready. The smell was fantastic and Ivar was hungry as a wolf. Heavy steps were heard outside in the snow. The horse-collector arrived wet and sweaty.

"I have hot water for you, son! Your little boy here is already cleaned." Uncle George grinned.

"Aye, I believe that, I believe that!" Doug passed Ivar and kissed him lightly.


It was May 8th. Doug had accompanied Ivar to the airport in Aberdeen. A Norwegian plane waited for the young man who was to go home to Norway today. It was just a short flight across the North Sea to Stavanger, where Ivar had to go for the military check-up.

"You know why May 8th is an important day, love?" Ivar had his arms around the man who had been his boyfriend for the last few months.

"No, sorry, I don't. May 17th is your National Day I know, but..." Doug was very close.

"It's the Norwegian Liberation Day. Aunt Bunty told me that `Eevar' had cried with joy in her arms that morning in 1945, and that she had baked a cream cake with a Norwegian flag for him. He could not return home until the 20th though. That was the last time my namesake saw his Scottish war family." Ivar suddenly sent some thoughts to Archie. He hadn't seen him since Berlin in February, but he had talked to him by telephone from all over Europe.

"I wonder if I will meet Archie again," he thought. "And I wonder if I will meet Aunt Bunty again Ð she's an old lady."

"Two hours late for Stavanger." The loudspeaker crackled as it made the announcement.

"Please love, we can wait in the van, can't we?" Ivar took Doug's hand and they hurried to the parking spot. Minutes later the pair were in a 69 position inside. That was followed by a hard and intensive fuck that ended in a double orgasm that made the old van shake.

"You think you'll come to Norway for your last year at University?" Ivar asked when he cuddled in Doug's arms after the hot session.

"Aye, Norway or Iceland!" Doug said. "And you baby, have you decided whether it's military or college?"

"I have to go through the testing first, and then I can apply for military postponement up to two years - time will tell." Ivar was playing with Doug's red hair. "You think we could live together one day, carrot-boy?"

Doug did not answer. For a long time nothing was said. Ivar swallowed. "Think I must catch that plane, stallion! Let me say goodbye here, okay?" The deep kiss that followed was both sweet and rough.

Ivar had a window seat on the plane. In nice weather he could see the oil-installations in the North Sea, and later he saw the Norwegian coast shortly before the landing in Stavanger. He had left Norway ten month earlier for a gap year trip. His plan was to travel all over Europe. He had seen a lot, but also found out that he was a family-guy, spending almost two months with a French family and now four months on the Scottish west coast combined with his love-nest in the Highlands.

The military test was done in one day. He guessed he was intelligent enough for the service, and the doctors had found nothing wrong. Standing like a naked high-school boy in a line of youngsters waiting for inspection had been a challenge, and getting a hard-on when the doctor examined his balls had been embarrassing. The old military doctor had just grinned, squeezed his balls and said, "Good to see you salute an old man!"

Two hours later and he was on-board the night train bound for Oslo. He hoped for some sleep, and was happy for a double seat for the trip. An hour for a change there and he would be home north of Trondheim the next evening, or maybe he should stay overnight in Oslo. He had some addresses! He opened the Spartacus guidebook that had followed him all year. The book was still covered in neutral grey paper, but he didn't take any notice of his fellow passengers when he opened the book this time. It was a more confident young man who was returning home compared to the lad who fallen asleep on a fellow traveller's shoulder when he left.

The guidebook was filled with marks and notes. It had been an adventurous year and he had met a lot of interesting guys of all ages. The trip had started very promising in Oslo with the high school teacher Thor who had taken him to his first nude beach; then the athlete Tommy whom he met on the boat. Tommy was the guy who took Ivar's virginity in Copenhagen.

Copenhagen, yes, he looked at the marks. Old Andersen was a master, and when thinking of Paris, Colonel or Col had showed him how pain could be transformed to heat and joy. And Paris, where the shy youngster acted as a show-dancer, and where he became an exhibitionist in front of Ken's cameras.

"Oh, my French farm was a dream!" Ivar looked around, afraid that he had started talking to himself like an old jerk. Davide, Hector and Jules, hot in bed all of them, and great friends and companions. "I must go back there!" Ivar closed his eyes. He listened to the sound from the rails, and remembered the long trip from the south of France to Scotland, and how he had met Archie, who in a way was responsible for the next half year. "Strange to be compared with a name-brother," Ivar thought, "and strange to get a boyfriend in a country that doesn't accept gay sex." He yawned and fell asleep.

Ivar had slept for many hours when the train entered Oslo-West station. He hurried to the toilet and tried the impossible, to pee standing with a hard-on that did not take signals. But since Oslo-West is a terminal station he did not have to hurry.

"I'll call Thor!" Ivar had the number for the first man he met on his 10 month long European journey. A woman answered. Ivar was suddenly confused. He didn't remember the man's family name, and the man was of course at work this Friday. Ivar just hung up. Frustrated, he called home and was really happy when he heard his brother's voice.

"You are coming today, Kiddo? Great! I'll meet you in Trondheim. You will love my new car!" Ragnar was very enthusiastic.

"You bought a car, Bro?" Ivar was impressed.

"Yes, a huge American car. The girls get wet knickers when I'm cruising them!" Ragnar was exactly the way Ivar had always known him. On the other hand Ivar could not but think about their hot Christmas in London. He adjusted his hardening dick, found his backpack and hurried through the city centre towards Oslo-East station. Thor would have to wait until his next trip to Oslo.

Seven hours later Ivar looked out at the skyline of Trondheim with the famous Nidaros cathedral. He would soon be back home.

Coming out of the station building Ivar saw a group of youngsters around a car Ð a dream of a car Ð an open Ford Fairline. In the front was his James Dean-lookalike brother in a black leather jacket; and beside him a gum-chewing blonde.

"Jump in, Kiddo!" Ragnar shouted. "Welcome home!" Ivar wasn't fully inside the backseat before whining wheels told that his macho brother was the star of the day.

There was no possibility of chatting. The open drive and the heavy music were setting the scene. Forty five minutes later Ragnar stopped in front of a shopping centre. The girl, still working her gum, gave Ivar a limp handshake, and left.

"Jump in the front, Kiddo! Let's test the speed." Ragnar was like a kid with a new toy.

"Your girlfriend?" Ivar looked at Ragnar, then he followed the girl with the eyes.

"I guess! Tight cunt!" Blue smoke and rubber smell flew from the tyres when Ragnar accelerated.

Some minutes later he stopped outside the house at home. "Just as if I had left it yesterday," Ivar thought. He was surprised when Ragnar took hold of his backpack and carried it inside.

"Mum is singing tonight and the old man will not be back until Sunday, I think. There's not much work around here. I'll find some beers before mum gets back!" Ragnar was stressed. He handed Ivar a beer, then he moved it away, and then he hugged his brother tight, very tight.

"Good to have you home, Kiddo. I've missed you, a lot," he whispered. Ivar was a bit confused, and his lower parts were about to reveal him.

"I have to take a shower, Bro! Two days since I used hot water." Ivar hurried to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later he was back in the sitting room, just wearing a towel. Ragnar was into his third beer.

"Come on, Kiddo!" Ragnar found Ivar's naked shoulder. "I've moved into our old room! Couldn't stand the attic mattress anymore."

Just inside the door to their old room as boys, Ragnar stripped Ivar of his towel, knelt down and found his growing cock. "I've missed you, baby. I've missed you a lot." He licked and sucked the cock hard and a bit roughly. Ivar moaned when he stripped his brother of the t-shirt he wore and found his nipples. Without any words Ragnar pushed Ivar down on the bed, pulled off his blue jeans and briefs in one movement, and landed naked on top of Ivar who felt his brother's hard and wet cock against his body.

"I'll fuck you, Kiddo! I'll fuck YOU this time. I just used you in London, thought of girls. But I've thought of you ever since!" He pulled Ivar's feet up to his head and placed a cushion under the butt before he dived into the smooth arse crack and found the boy-cunt with a licking tongue. Minutes later Ragnar found the grease he had left ready, filled Ivar's arse with a large amount, and then greased up his own 18 cm (over 7 inch) pride. Without more foreplay he was inside his brother, and Ivar helped him, horny as ever before. He hadn't cum since a handjob after the doctor's inspection in Stavanger. Now he whined every time Ragnar's cock pressed his prostate.

Ragnar found Ivar's mouth and kissed him for the first time. Confused Ivar returned with lips and tongue.

The wild session was destined to be short; the brothers were too excited, too many hidden hormones. Ivar squeezed Ragnar's cock with his arse-muscles and lifted his hips. "I'm cumming, Bro! Fuck! Fuck!" Ivar shot hands-free, six-seven-eight spurts. He ended with spunk all over his upper body, his face and his hair. The first jet landed on the wall behind the bed close to the poster of Ragnar's look-alike James Dean.

"You are crazy, crazy, baby boy, babyÉ" Ragnar bottomed Ivar and filled his inner body with the brotherly milk. Then the two collapsed on the bed. Ivar was dripping wet all over, but he didn't care.

One hour later, still with arms around his brother, Ragnar whispered, "I'll carry you to the bathroom, Ivar. We must clean up before Mum is back home."

"Will you please drive me to Trondheim tomorrow, Bro?" Ivar whispered. "I have to do something."

"Of course, I will, Kiddo!" Ragnar lifted his `little' brother and carried him downstairs.

Ivar had a job to do, and he was happy that Ragnar came with him. Twenty minutes walk and he found what he was looking for:

IVAR HOLGER BRAAR 1925-1973 REST IN PEACE. The dark stone had golden inscriptions and an emblem consisting a cross, a heart and an anchor.

Ivar knelt and placed the red, blue and white bouquet on the grass. Then he placed a small flag, the Scottish national flag in blue and white, in front of the gravestone.

"Greetings from Aunt Bunty and your brother Archie," Ivar whispered.

The end

Appendix :

Doug never came to Norway. He went to Iceland for his studies, but when Uncle George later had a stroke, he moved back to Glasgow. Ivar met both him and Boyd in Scotland many times over the next forty years. Doug became a professor at his institute, and Boyd ran the family horse-business.

Ivar studied at college outside Oslo, and never returned to his hometown. After the first two years in college, living with two hot room-mates, he served 12 months in the military up north.

Later he found a good job and he married; raised children; and lived very bourgeois, but he never forgot his `rainbow' side. When asked why he married as a young man, he always answered: "That's what we did in those days!"

He bought his Spartacus guide every year, and used it on his many travels with his job and on holidays over the years. France and Scotland became his favourite countries, but he never wanted to move from his home country. He also had some journeys to the Far East. He loved the countries out there. He met Ronaldo Ð the guy from the Philippines Ð in Singapore once, and they stayed in bed for three days.

Ivar never got information about the photo project he was into in Paris, but many years later, when internet made it possible, he found his nude art-photos on a French light-porn site.

Trym was Ivar's buddy for life, but except for a handjob now and then, after some beers and a porn-movie, they never became lovers.

Ragnar, Ivar's brother, moved to Stavanger and worked in the oil industry. He was in bed with Ivar the last night before he married, but never since. He married three times, but his main love was American cars.


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