Barracks Bitch

Note for all native Germans, please forgive any mistakes I’ve made with my Deutsch. It’s been a couple decades since I’ve had occasion to use it, so I’m admittedly rusty and out of practice. I tried to double check with translators but they are not always accurate. Please enjoy it for what it is - a recognition of a language I find expressive and beautiful.

Horvath and Walters

Saturday night in a chilly German November meant three things: No junior grunts to herd; a buttery, smoky, woodsy bourbon, warmed and neat, of course; and the sweet taste of a fat Arturo Fuente Especiales cigar.

Sergeants Horvath and Walters sat enjoying the draw of smoke on the patio of their rented off post quarters.

“So what do you think of this batch? I sure as hell didn’t see last night coming. That Harris—“. Walters started.

Horvath interrupted his buddy. “Hey! No work. Let’s just relax. I leave that shit on post.”

“Fair enough.” Walters acquiesced.

They enjoyed the silence for a few minutes, sipping the smooth bourbon. The Kentucky liquor made sitting out in the chilly evening pleasant, both of them lounging in sweats and a tee shirt. Horvath’s ubiquitous body hair tufted out the collar and the stretched sleeves of his tee shirt. Then Horvath spoke. “I could go for some local takeout.”

Walters nodded. “What flavor?”

“That kid, Jürgen. He loves meinen großen Schwanz, and takes it like a pro. It really sucks that most women take one look at it and refuse to do anything more than jerk me off.” The fur covered Hungarian mused.

Walters chuckled. “I think you’ve got a soft spot for that kid.”

Horvath answered with a snort and a puff of his cigar. The resulting cloud lingered for a while in the still night air. “He’s got a soft spot for me to put my dick. That’s as far as it goes.”

Walters shrugged, not believing a word of that. The way he treated Jürgen with kindness and attention said loud and clear more was there than a straightforward fuck. “Give him a call, then. Inge got herself a boyfriend, so I’m going to need some too.”

“Brother, you’re an idiot.” Horvath said, pointing the ash hanging on the end of the tobacco leaf wrapped cylinder at his friend. “She likes you. Why don’t you snatch that fräulein up? You’d have beautiful blonde green eyed babies with her.”

Walters had thought about it, many times. But he was still young, hadn’t made Sergeant First Class yet, even though it would be soon. The recent Gulf War, which hadn’t really been a war because the Iraqis hardly put up a fight, meant the rank would remain full until some of those decided not to re-enlist or retired and the Army allowed them to cycle out. Certain skill sets had to be retained in mobilization to ensure mission success and continuity. It was just bad timing in his career. At any other time, he and Horvath would have made rank already at 32 years old. He had all his points and time, his last test couldn’t have gone better and he was on the list, and of course the fitness portion was a joke for him even if the idiotic charts said his height/weight proportion put him in the ‘overweight’ column. But that was the Army, they had one measuring stick. He and Horvath just had to wait to put on their rank. He had nothing to offer Inge right now except the loneliness of a military wife and eventually taking her away from her home and family. She would have nothing in common with the other NCO wives, and being low man on the NCO totem pole didn’t get him invited to a lot of get togethers by the senior NCOs, not to mention the wives could be petty and mean, dependent upon their husbands place in the hierarchy even more than the soldiers themselves. Rank and position was a political barrier in full effect in the military, and paying your dues, putting on insignia and stripes, filling your ribbon rack was how it worked. Receiving recognition got your foot in the door. Until then, you were just another uniform in the chain.

“Just bad timing, brother. You know we probably only have a year more here. If they extend us, I might make it serious with Inge.”

Horvath looked at his friend. “You’re going to regret it, but it’s your life.” And he got up to use the phone inside, placing his half smoked cigar in the ashtray.

He dialed Jürgen’s number, a woman answered, probably his mother. “Guten abend. Kann Ich mit Jürgen zusprechen, bitte?” Horvath requested politely.

“Ja, natürlich .” He heard her call to Jürgen in the background.

“Hallo?” The boyish voice answered.

“Hallo, Junge.” Horvath said, knowing Jürgen would know immediately who it was from his voice and being called ‘boy’. “Was machst du jetzt?”

“Ich studiere für meine Universitätsprüfung, mein Herr.” Jürgen attended the University in the city a short train ride from the town next to the Army base.

“Ich brauche dich.” Horvath ordered him with a growl.

There was no hesitation. “Ja, mein Herr. Ich komme sofort!” The kid hung up. It wouldn’t take him 15 minutes to arrive.

While they waited, they sucked down the short remainder of their cigars and bourbon, passing the time in silence. Silence with a good friend was rewarding. Horvath couldn’t stand people who had to fill the emptiness with meaningless chatter. Walters felt the same way.

They soon heard the patio door open. The tall but thin blonde German eighteen year old stood naked in the doorway. He knew the drill, letting himself in and undressing fully right away, one of the things Horvath liked about the kid - he followed orders. Jürgen’s lightly furred legs were longer than his torso, sleek but proportional to his narrow hips. Above his crotch he was hairless except for his armpits, but his light blonde hair almost disappeared against his skin. The kid had a beautiful face, with a straight nose and prominent squared off clefted chin, between the two features sat a set of pouty pink lips that the hairy Sergeant loved seeing wrapped around his fat pork tenderloin. He had wide set sky blue eyes with long blonde lashes, straight wispy eyebrows, and a smooth, wide forehead. His curly blonde hair was just the right length for Horvath to get his furry paws into and grab hold of. The kid was going to break a lot of hearts. Especially with the thick uncut knackwurst and heavy balls hanging soft between his legs.

“Good evening, Sirs.” The kid’s mild voice said in a slight German accent. He’d been practicing. It was one of the only situations in which Horvath or Walters would accept being called ‘Sir’. Civilians didn’t know any better, and it didn’t do any good to explain to them that Sir for an NCO bordered on being an insult. Rank was earned through hard work, sweat, and pain. Address left no room for assuming more than deserved.

“Komm hier, Junge.” Horvath instructed. Jürgen immediately approached. There was no shame about nudity in the German culture, and it didn’t matter to the kid that the neighbors could see him baring all on the patio of their flat. It also wouldn’t raise any eyebrows that he was naked in the presence of two older men.

“Mein Herr, kann Ich eine Anfrage stellen?” The timid youth asked.

“Frage.” Horvath replied.

“May Sir speak English with the boy?” Jürgen was looking down rather than making eye contact.

Horvath chuckled. “Will Sir speak English with his boy.” He corrected.

“Will Sir speak English with his boy? I must practice my English. And the American accent of Sir…Sirs.. is… geile macht?”

“You think my American accent is hot? Sexy? Turns you on?”

Jürgen looked up and gave a wide, bright smile that lit up his entire boyishly handsome face. “Ja! Eh, yes, Sir! Is very much sexy. Your speaking of Deutsch is very good, there is little accent in the words. My English is not good so I must learn better speaking, Sir.” His eyes darted to the ashtray and the glasses. “Would Sirs wish more?” He indicated the table.

Horvath lifted and eyebrow towards Walters. His friend nodded.

“Yes boy. And warm the bourbon. You may have some if you want.”

“Thank you, Sir, but it is not for a boy. American whiskey is only for a man…the men? Bier… bee-err” he practiced, trying to give the right inflection and pronunciation, “that is for boys.”

Horvath grinned. The kid was adorable. “There’s Heffeweissen in the fridge… refrigerator. Help yourself.”

“Thank you, Sir.” The lanky blonde started to turn away, then stopped. “Help myself? What is the meaning , Sir? It is not helping to drink bee-err. It is just drinking bee-err.”

“What does that mean?” Horvath corrected. “It means you have permission to serve yourself, or do whatever you need to in order to accomplish the goal. In this case, going into the refrigerator and getting yourself a beer so that you can drink it.”

Jürgen smiled happily again. “I will help myself, Sir. But I will first help my Sirs.”

Horvath and Walters eyed the statuesque youth’s pert fuzzy ass as he strode through the patio door. Jürgen walked proudly upright, shoulders back, in a smooth efficient stride that spoke of being comfortable with his body, athleticism and youthful strength. In just a couple years, he would be a man to be reckoned with. He returned quickly with two cigars. He took the cutter from the table and snipped just above the shoulder of the first cigar while standing next to the Sergeant. Horvath watched him, placing a hand on Jürgen’s nicely rounded ass. The kid had learned well. He let Horvath inspect the cut. Horvath nodded. Then Jürgen put the tobacco tube in his mouth and lit the end, taking quick shallow puffs until a visible ash appeared. He extended the perfectly lit cigar, burning end out, to the burly Sergeant.

“Good job, boy.”

Jürgen smiled proudly at the praise, and his flaccid cock swelled a bit. He did the same for Walters, moving to stand touching Walters’ shoulder with his naked hip, leaning into him with a bit of weight which was actually negligible to the well built Army man. Herr Walters liked it when he was forward and playful. After handing the other Army soldier the lit cigar, he went back inside to prepare the Woodford Reserve bourbon, which didn’t take long. He knew to heat the glass, then pour the bourbon in, which allowed the whiskey to warm gradually, releasing the deep flavors without evaporating the alcohol. He had learned so much from the two American military, not just about satisfying their needs. Although he should not be arrogant, he did feel like he was far more experienced than his friends, who were still playing children’s games, while he learned how to be a real man from Herr Horvath and Herr Walters. He already carried himself with far more confidence and masculine demeanor than his contemporaries. His parents had noticed the improvement, and encouraged his interaction with the Americans. They weren’t completely ignorant of what may be going on, but as long as the influence was positive, a young man needed to use this time to experience what the world held. One of those things was expected to be sexual exploration and experimentation. After University, Jürgen could get serious and decide which direction his life would take.

He took the two warmed glasses to the Americans, along with two flat ceramic stones he’d also warmed which would continue to radiate the heat necessary to bring out the best in the whiskey. The Americans didn’t pour their whiskey down their throats like Americans in the movies. They taught him that good whiskey, or any good liquor for that matter, should be savored slowly. Getting drunk and losing control was juvenile, and real men kept their wits about them at all times. Real men sought out and enjoyed those things and behaviors that improved their lives, and avoided those that damaged them. It was called treating yourself with respect. You didn’t deserve respect from others if you didn’t first give respect to yourself.

Real men also stated plainly what they wanted, and right now Jürgen wanted to play with Herr Horvath’s beautiful beast sized schwanz.

“May I suck you, Sir?” He asked.

Horvath leaned back, cigar in one hand, bourbon in the other and spread his legs as an answer.

The young blonde wasted no time taking a drink of his beer, setting it on the table, then kneeling in front of his extra large target. From behind him he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Here Jürgen, kneel on this.” Herr Walters held out his folded tee shirt.

The 18 year old may wish to serve them, but this was not a relationship of abuse and punishment. It was not ownership. It was mutually beneficial interaction, sharing pleasure, accepting responsibility for the care and treatment of someone who looked up to them, who wanted to learn from them, who trusted them not to hurt him. Inflicting deliberate pain served no purpose with a young man who thrived on praise and kindness. Their goal was to instill confidence and self authority, not dismantle his ability to function independently. Jürgen was not willful or foolish, he was very intelligent and respectfully polite. Germans, for the most part, did not teach their children to be entitled brats like so many American parents. Character mattered. Pride in who you were came from how you behaved. Although similar to how they trained soldiers at work, Jürgen did not need to be broken into subservience so that orders would be followed without question.

Jürgen placed the shirt under his knees, then reached up to pull down the front of Herr Horvath’s sweat pants. He could feel the heat coming off the American’s legs, and although he wasn’t cold being a native that grew up here, the warmth felt good, even more because of who was generating it. Jürgen felt safe and cocooned between those large legs. He wished Herr Horvath was naked. His thick natural fur was beautiful. As evidenced by the lush bush that covered several centimeters of that long, thick penis. Tucking the sweatpants below the American’s hairy balls, he leaned in to nuzzle the slowly filling tube of flesh with his handsome face.

Horvath set his bourbon on the still warm ceramic stone, tilted his head back and placed his cigar between his teeth, drawing a heavy pull from the burning tobacco, holding the smoke for a moment in his mouth before releasing a cloud into the air. He rested his hands in Jürgen’s soft blonde curls, just about encompassing his entire head with his man paws. He let the eager young man nudge and rub his cock. Jürgen’s cold hands moved up onto Horvath’s stomach, under his shirt to play with his furry pelt.

“Just what I needed.” Horvath uttered from the side of his mouth that wasn’t gripping the cigar. He lightly massaged Jürgen’s head, playing with the loose rings of his straw colored hair.

They’d taught him to take his time, savor it, enjoy it like everything else worth doing. And right now he was smelling and licking and sucking the Sergeant’s furry nuts. He was content simply being in physical contact with this fine specimen of masculinity. He made sure Herr Horvath’s furry eggs were soaked with saliva before he moved up to lick the massive shaft of his now erect and heavy cock. It was quite large, the biggest one he’d seen so far in his young life. Fully as thick around as his wrist, and almost as long as his forearm, the sheer size of it had frightened him at first. But Herr Walters had patiently taught him how to handle a man of that quality, showing him how to ease it into his throat, to ignore the urge to gag and choke which would only make it worse. It seemed like it would never fit, but the gentle words of Herr Walters after his demonstration assured him it was possible and only a matter of willpower. He licked his way up to the hooded head, sucking on the leaking foreskin, tasting the delicious flavor of his Sir’s precum. Then, grasping the base, he let his tongue play inside the loose skin, rolling it around the sensitive glans and extracting every drop of the salty fluid that had collected there.

Herren Horvath and Walters were talking casually about plans for tomorrow, smoking their cigars, sipping their American whiskey, while he enjoyed himself between the man’s legs. Every so often, Herr Horvath would stroke his face gently, or play with his hair, sometimes holding the cigar between the fingers of that hand while he did so. The attention made him feel warm inside, loved, accepted. The acrid smoke of the burning leaf so close to his face only enhanced the feelings, because it now was associated with masculine, mature, strong men. He longed to taste the tobacco on Herr Horvath’s tongue, but Sir did not kiss. Herr Walters would kiss Jürgen, though. He’d learned how to become a very good kisser from Herr Walters.

He pulled the foreskin back gently, exposing the light brown head, which was still pumping out drips of penile lubricant. He cupped his lips and surrounded the tip, forcing his tongue into the piss slit to lick out more. Herr Horvath had a very large hole for spritzen. Jürgen could almost get the entire tip of his tongue inside it. He noticed Herr Horvath would spurt heavier when he did that, giving him more of his manly juice. That also gave him a warm, content feeling inside, knowing that meant he was making Herr Horvath very happy.

After playing all he wanted with the head, he finally opened wide to take him inside his young mouth. He did it like Herr Walters had showed him, just a couple centimeters at a time, moving like a snake swallowing its dinner. Open ahhhh, tongue, lips, saliva, open ahhhh, move down, tongue, lips, saliva, and continue until he was smelling Sir’s thick, soft bush. Jürgen loved feeling the hair brush his cheeks, nose, and eyes when he had Herr Horvath fully engulfed, that’s how deep and lush his pubic hair was. It was good that Herr Horvath’s size meant he didn’t get completely rigid and stiff, instead his Schwanz was solid but flexible, which allowed the young man to take it all. He waited there, breathing through his hose and patient, while his throat formed the slimy mucus that would make repeated movements so much easier. It would produce far more than enough. Herr Horvath always used the drooled excess. It was perfect for preparing his tight ass for fucking.

He felt the first wave ascend, and he let it escape his lips with a gurgle. “Huuuurrk!”

Herr Horvath never stopped what he was saying to Herr Walters while he casually reached down to take the throat slime from his pubic hair, scooping it in his fingers with one hand and reaching for Jürgen’s ass to rub it on his twitching hole, inserting a meaty finger to try to force it inside him. He pushed him further down onto his cock, even though he was already at the base, with his other hand, so he could bend over easily and reach. Jürgen never felt happier than in this moment, smothered on all sides by pieces of Horvath’s furnace heat emitting body, Jürgen’s young chest and head between his legs, face planted to the balls in his crotch, his beautiful schwanz buried all the way down his throat, Herr Horvath’s heavy torso pressing into him from above. He could fall asleep like this, it made him feel so content and safe. “Mmmmmmm” he moaned. His jaw was stretched so wide, but he didn’t care.

Herr Horvath sat back again, releasing the kid’s head. Jürgen began slowly pulling off about 14 centimeters, half of the length he had swallowed, to give his throat a rest, breathe a little and begin sliding that monster in and out of his mouth. He sucked for a few strokes at this depth before taking Herr Horvath deep again. “Huuurrrk” again. More throat slime. Herr Horvath repeated his earlier motions, again forcing his cock deeper into Jürgen’s willing throat. After forcing more fluid into the young German’s ass with two fingers, he slapped his ass and leaned back again. Jürgen began to slowly move up and down on Herr Horvath’s cock, humming a nursery rhyme while moving his mouth along the length. He was on his third repetition of the rhyme when he felt Herr Horvath’s member begin to swell. The young man didn’t break his steady, slow rhythm, maintaining the same pace, and he felt the first throb that signaled Herr Horvath was depositing his seed inside him. He held himself still for a moment, tightening his jaw slightly, before descending fully on the American’s meat to take the next few spurts in his throat, then moved off until just the fat head was held in his lips to allow the last few volleys of cum to fill his mouth, stroking the long shaft to pull every drop out. The thick semen tasted so good, and Jürgen imagined he was being infused with some of the magnificent soldier’s masculinity. Herr Horvath hadn’t made a sound or indicated in any way he had shot his sweet manseed in Jürgen’s mouth and throat, not even a tensing of a single muscle or change in breathing. The act of inseminating the youth occurred as naturally and easily as scratching an itch unconsciously. As if that was Jürgen’s purpose. Do you think about the glass you pour your milk in? Do you pause to warn it that it’s going to be filled? Does your body tense up as the runny white fluid splashes into the receptacle? Of course not. That’s where nourishing milk belongs, where it needs to go to be put to use. The boy nursed the slightly softened pole for a half a minute before releasing it from his pouty red lips, which he licked, relishing the taste. He tucked the turgid member back inside Herr Horvath’s sweat pants before moving over between Herr Walters’ legs. The second American spread his legs for him, giving him access. He took a moment to smile up at Herr Walters, who smiled back and tousled Jürgen’s hair.

“You’re such a good boy.” Walters praised. Then he nodded at his crotch, taking a draw from his cigar. Jürgen pulled the front of the sweat pants down, just as he had done with Herr Horvath. Walters’ dick was not as long or thick as Horvath’s, but it was still an example of peak, potent impressive size. Herr Walters was circumcised, and leaking. The biggest testicles Jürgen had ever seen hung loose below the hard shaft that rose straight up toward the sky, unlike Herr Horvath’s. Herr Horvath’s cock was so long and heavy it simply leaned like a tree tipped over in a storm, it’s roots straining to maintain a grip on the soil. Having given a glance to the remaining unsmoked length of their cigars, and the last few sips of bourbon in their glasses, Jürgen knew time was limited before they were done out here, so he simply swallowed Walters’ hardness immediately, choosing to play with the American’s balls using his hands.

The taste of the man’s precum was intoxicating. Jürgen moaned, loving how the solid tube of flesh left just enough room in his mouth for him to use his tongue, running it up and down and left and right over the tight skin of Herr Walters’ dick. He couldn’t do that with Herr Horvath’s barely manageable size. After having his throat stretched by Herr Horvath, this cock was easier to accommodate, so he happily slurped the entire length from base to head using gentle suction. Herr Walters encouraged him with minute thrusts, his ass clenching and releasing as Jürgen moved up and down on his American gun. Soon, Herr Walters placed a hand on his head, threading his fingers through the German youth’s curls. He grabbed the hair, and directed the boy with assertive pulling and pushing. The G.I. was working up to ejaculate, moving the blonde head between his legs faster, more intently. Herr Walters placed his cigar between his teeth and brought his other hand to Jürgen’s head. He sucked in a large draw of the tobacco smoke and just as he released his cum into the kid’s mouth he exhaled in his face.

“Oh, fuck yeah kid. Drink all that juice.” He growled. “Every. Uh! Last. Uh! Drop. Uh! Uh! Mmmmmm.”

Which Jürgen happily did, swallowing with every pumping squirt of the thick, delicious seed. As he had done with Herr Horvath, he nursed on the gradually softening dick while the muscle bound soldier came down from his orgasm.

“Let’s move this inside.” Herr Horvath announced, taking the last sip of his bourbon. It probably wasn’t warm anymore.

When they reached the living room, Sergeant Walters moved up to pull Jürgen into his muscular arms. The kid was taller than him by a couple inches. Their bare chests pressed together as Walters moved his hands over the tight, young firmness of Jürgen’s thin, athletic body. Horvath had moved up behind him to create a G.I. sandwich. The taller hairy American behind him had removed his sweatpants and was humping his thick hardness against the young German’s taut butt. The feel of Horvath’s warm fur against his back drove him to moan, as Walters gave him a deep, sensual kiss. Walters reached down to grab Jürgen’s thighs, lifting him up to straddle his waist, exposing his tight pucker to Horvath’s cock.

Horvath applied more saliva to Jürgen’s hole, and even more to his ready pole, and slid his head over the newly spit lubed opening. He felt the kid’s sphincter pulse and flex as he applied ever greater pressure. The kid could take it. It alway made him hiss at first penetration, but he wanted Horvath’s monster inside him so badly it never took long for him to adjust, and this time was no different.

“That’s it, boy.” Horvath growled. “I’m going to put this American soldier cock all the way up inside you.” And he made his words good by sliding raw slowly into Jürgen’s stretching asshole. Jürgen moaned into Walters’ mouth. He loved the G.I. sandwich, compressed between two real masculine men who enjoyed his body, one furry, one completely smooth, both with bulging muscles. The minimal lubrication of saliva heightened the frictional effect, creating a mixture of pleasure and pain. The act of being fucked in this standing position enhanced the erotic disparity between their strength and his, their size and his, their manly supremacy against his youth. He locked his ankles behind Walters’ back.

Horvath began pistoning his slab of meat in and out of Jürgen’s tight willing hole, fully planting it to the balls and pulling out to the head. The kid was bouncing himself against Walters to increase the action, wanting more.

“Ja! Fich mich! Ich liebe deinen großen Schwanz! Tiefer! Härter!

Horvath chuckled, increasing the power of his thrusts. “Ja, Junge. Aber Du musst Englisch verwenden. Practice, remember?”

Jürgen’s elastic hole gripped Horvath’s Hungarian pole perfectly, doing its own work to stroke his gargantuan shaft. The kid’s hole was amazing, like it was made to take his dick. Depth, circumference, grip, wetness… all of it was a precise fit.

“It feel so good I can’t remember words. Fuck my ass, please Sir! I want to feel your sperm inside my ass.”

“You want my cum, boy?” Horvath growled, really hammering the kid now, picking up steam that was driving him towards release.

“Yes, your cum. That is what I want!” Jürgen gasped. He was holding onto Walters for his life, as he was crushed between the two men. Herr Walters had leaned forward, as if holding a boxing bag against his training partner’s rapid, forceful punches. The boy’s hard cock was smashed against Herr Walters’ solid abs, rubbing along the hard ridges with every one of Horvath’s plunges into his overfilled young hole. He felt that he reached a precipice, and suddenly his cock began to shoot, pouring out his sperm onto Walters’ smooth skin.

“Here it comes boy. I’m going to fill you up. Your going to take my big load deep inside your sweet hole.”

And Herr Horvath started to grunt, burying his giant exceptional manhood to the hairy balls in the thin young, handsome German.

“Ja! I am feeling it, Sir! Oh, I love it! It is so good for you to give me this into my ass. It is so good feeling!” Even as the last drops of cum were beaten out of his own dick crushed against Herr Walters.

“Take it all boy!” Horvath heaved again and again as he emptied his nuts with eight or ten long heavy squirts inside the willing and hungry chute gripping his cock so nicely.

Jürgen buried his head in Walters’ neck. “Yes! I take it for you. I take all of it, for you.”

Horvath reached out and stroked Jürgen’s head as his strokes slowly came to a stop. “Good boy. You are a good boy.” He felt he had gushed a massive load up the kid’s sweet cunt, and was unsurprised to see a large amount follow his dick out through his stretched sphincter, splattering on the hardwood floor beneath them. He reached under to force two meaty fingers knuckle deep in the youth’s warm dripping hole.

“Mmmmm.” Jürgen moaned. He pulled his head away and looked at Walters. “You will fuck me now, yes?”

“Yes, boy. I will fuck you now.” Walters said with a grin before kissing Jürgen passionately.

Horvath pulled Jürgen off Walters, holding him from behind and stepping back to sit on the couch. Jürgen leaned back against the warm furry chest as Herr Horvath pulled his knees up to expose his cum soaked hole. Horvath gripped his wrists together pinning the boy in place securely. Walters lowered himself between Horvath’s knees, positioning his cock against the spasming pucker. Jürgen leaned his head back on Herr Horvath’s shoulder, while Horvath nuzzled his neck. The lingering aroma of cigar coming from Horvath’s skin filled his nose, making his body go limp.

Walters slowly pushed his cock inside the kid, meeting no resistance, not after the Hungarian beast had used him and lubricated his entire fuck channel with his hot cum.

Walters took his time, letting the young hole massage his cock with every downstroke and upstroke. Where Horvath had been forceful and intense, Walters was gentle and easy. He pistoned in regular, even rhythm, wanting the kid to enjoy a nice slow lazy fuck. Horvath had switched to playing with the blonde youth’s nipples, kissing and licking his neck, driving the boy crazy with sensory overload. Jürgen was completely limp, moaning and mumbling to himself in German. Horvath moved one hand up to put two fingers in Jürgen’s mouth, pulling one leg further up and stretching out his young, athletic body. Walters began stroking deeper, bottoming out then tightening his ass cheeks to get a partial inch more of penetration. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, so he began fucking the kid with more force, the feeling of fucking into Horvath’s load was amazing. “I’m going to blow my load up your ass! Here it comes!” And he gave a growl as he went balls deep when his throbbing cock spewed more cum inside the kid. “Oh fuck yeah! Hot little hole on you, boy. So good.”

When he was fully spent, he pulled his cock out of Jürgen’s once again tight hole. By this time, Horvath was ready to go a second time. The Army beast pulled the smaller kid up a little so his cock could find his hole. Jürgen reached down to grab the meat slab and guide it in. Horvath pushed the young blonde down until he was buried. The characteristic he loved most about young Jürgen was his complete pliability. The boy didn’t squirm, or fight, or resist in any way. It didn’t matter which position a cock entered him, whether first fuck or fifth, he simply took it. He would continue to take a fucking as long as Horvath needed him to, as many times as it took, as many loads as Horvath and Walters had to shoot up his beautiful pliant hole. And the kid loved and enjoyed the fifth fuck as much as the first. Horvath had never encountered anyone who accepted multiple, repetitive fucking from his huge cock like Jürgen, except for one prostitute in Vegas when he was 22. But even then it was unsatisfying because he wasn’t going to raw dog a prostitute, and shooting into a condom took away a vital aspect great sex. Fucking and cumming into a rubber accomplished the basic physical need, similar to jacking off. But knowing that your seed was going to be fucked inside another person, and that person wanted your seed inside them elevated the experience to something intensely satisfying. It almost seemed like the kid wanted them to get him pregnant with their virility so it would grow inside him. Honestly, Horvath found that intensely erotic. Jürgen was special, he loved it when the older Americans pumped his ass full of their elixir of masculinity. He got the sense that the kid wasn’t necessarily gay, only enamored of the American soldiers, their size, the confidence and competency with which they carried themselves, their maturity and masculinity. And that excited Horvath too, that Jürgen happily allowed himself to be fucked because it was one way he could be useful to the men he admired.

The kid had placed his feet on Horvath’s knees so he could maintain position while Horvath thrust his hips. Horvath gripped the blonde youth’s hips, pulling him up and down on his pole, and Jürgen’s shoulders and head rested against the Sergeant’s hot furry chest. The kid was moaning, still mumbling in German. Walters couldn’t translate it, but Horvath could. How he was being fucked by a real man, so big, the feel of his hairy body, so deep, he loved being taken by Horvath’s beautiful meat, how he needed to take Horvath’s seed and it would make him a man. The fact he wasn’t talking to Horvath, only to himself out loud made it more exciting.

The Sergeant was long dicking the kid now, his monster cock pistoning the full eleven plus inches with every stroke. The smack of his hips against Jürgen’s fuzzy cheeks beating out a rhythm that spoke of carnal need. He knew the kid’s hole was being punished, tenderized by his fuck stick. Jürgen had begun repeating “Ja, Ja, Ja.” over and over, and “Gibt es Mir, ja!” Driving him on.

The moment came when Horvath felt his balls draw up and he knew he was going to fuck another huge load up the kid’s already sperm filled cunt. He grabbed the boy in a powerful hug and slammed him down on his cunt wrecker, feeling his warm nut propel out his piss slit up inside Jürgen’s desperate guts. And then the kid’s lean muscles went taut, his own cock releasing his boyseed to fly up his smooth hairless chest. They came together, each volley perfectly matched in time. Horvath loved how Jürgen almost always came without touching himself. The kid relaxed fully against Horvath’s chest, dropping his legs to straddle the Sergeant’s thighs.

“So geil. Very sexy, is very hot.” The kid breathed in a satisfied sigh. “I must always have your sperm inside me, Sir.”

“I’ve told you before, boy, Americans call it cum. To say sperm is too formal for having sex, especially good sex. We say sperm with doctors and in proper situations to remove the sexual part.” Horvath explained.

“Yes, I know this. It is difficult to think because of the hot fucking. I must always have your cum inside me, Sir. I like your cum.” The kid repeated with a wiggle of his ass which still gripped the Sergeant’s cock.

The scene of Horvath and Jürgen snuggled in post orgasm contentment was endearing. Jürgen still had his head leaned back into the crook of Horvath’s neck, their faces rubbing against each other’s side by side. Horvath was lazily running his hands up and down the kid’s smooth compact chest and abdomen, smearing the boy’s load over his skin.

“You’re such a good boy.” He gave Jürgen’s cheek a quick peck. “Go take a shower. You need to get home before your parents worry.”

Jürgen shrugged. “They know that I am here with you and Herr Walters. But you are right. I must study. My test will be Monday for my Finanzen Classe. There will be many questions and I must perform well. I will receive the highest mark.”

“Yes, you must. Studies are very important. Go on, get cleaned up.” He patted Jürgen’s chest.

“Ja, ja. I am doing this, but it is difficult to climb down from this tree.” He joked with a laugh.

“GRRRRR, you will get another fucking if you don’t.”

Jürgen’s ass gave another wiggle, and squeezed down on the cock still stretching his hole. “Then I must stay. You must have all the fuckings for your hoden to become empty.”

With another growl, Horvath flipped the kid face down on the couch in one smooth movement, without his cock leaving the tight warm hole gripping it. He railed the kid one more time, dumping what remained of his seed into the kid’s greedy cumhole. He slowly extracted his cock and sat back, slapping Jürgen’s firm perky butt. Another amazing talent of the kid’s hole was how it rarely let any of their cum leak out. It always irised shut when they withdrew.

“Guess I have one more in me, too.” Walters said, climbing on before Jürgen moved. His cock slid inside the supine boy easily, making the youth moan in pleasure. He pumped forcefully for a couple minutes until he spewed a surprisingly thick, heavy full course of his nut deep up the kid’s fuckchute. He pulled out, kissing the kid’s neck tenderly. “Thank you, Jürgen.”

Jürgen smiled. He always loved these times with the two Americans. They always made him feel wanted, desired, important. They never fucked him just once, and it never took them long to go again. Even with his limited experience, he knew that was unusual. He got up from the couch, a big smile plastered on his young handsome face. He stretched, extending his arms above his head. He noticed the eyes of the men running over his lean, lanky form. It made him feel attractive. Oh, he knew he was very good looking, but having the appreciation of such well built masculine real men thrilled him and gave him a warm feeling inside.

“Thank you, Sirs. I will have all your cum in me while I sleep tonight, and I will sleep very well.” He looked at Horvath for approval. He knew it had to be a large amount, Herr Horvath always produced a large volume of sperm… cum.

“Very good, boy. That was perfect English.” Horvath praised. “Sehr gut.”