Vienna Woods Release

Hugh Hargrave went to his tutor, George’s, bedroom door to check on him. The young man had been drinking throughout the evening, taking advantage of the absence of Hugh’s parents for the weekend, and Hugh thought he heard voices from George’s room. Had George brought someone else to his room? If so, Hugh was piqued and frustrated. He’d tried his best to get the handsome tutor to bed him, and George had said the nineteen-year-old Hugh was entirely too young, which Hugh knew was completely false. George was barely four years older than Hugh was himself, and it was almost a disgrace for a nineteen-year-old boy to still be a virgin in 1870. English people of the Hargrave’s class were just too stuffy, Hugh thought—at least on the surface. He knew that below that surface they were quite bawdy and promiscuous.

Besides, George gave as a fallback position, Hugh’s father, Howard Hargrave, Lord Chesterville, would sack George on the spot if he were caught with Hugh that way.

The other voice Hugh heard in George’s room sounded like the stable boy, Holst, who was a year younger than Hugh, eighteen, so Hugh was frustrated that Holst might be in there with George, and he wasn’t. If asked, George would say that Holst was just a peasant stable boy and that made all the difference. But it didn’t make a difference to Hugh, who wanted to get on with it—and wanted that getting on to be with men. He’d already decided that.

Not needing a vocation, Lord Chesterville’s avocation was as a violinist in the London Philharmonic Society, which then, in 1870, was in hiatus as its future home, the Royal Albert Hall, was not yet finished. His wife, Lady Amantha, played the piccolo in the orchestra. As they waited for the symphony to reconvene, the Hargraves had been touring Europe to take in the music scene elsewhere. Richard Strauss, the second, was preparing a royal performance of his recently composed Tails from the Vienna Woods for Austria-Hungarian emperor Francis Joseph I, to be performed by the Vienna Philharmonic Symphony in Vienna that summer, and Lord Chesterville and his wife had secured chairs in the orchestra. Going the whole distance, they had rented a villa in Weinerwald, at the edge of the Vienna Woods, to be “in the mood.” The villa was some distance from Vienna, though, so they spent many of the rehearsal nights leading up to the performance in Vienna.

The Hargraves had brought the youngest of their sons, Hugh, with them, saying that he was of “that age” for them to be worrying about leaving him to his own devices. They, of course, didn’t know the half of that. Other than that, the parents were rather indifferent to the son. He was not the heir, just the spare, so he always had been treated a bit as an afterthought and had been turned over to his music tutor, George, without a thought to the lifestyle interests of the young, handsome man they had engaged in Paris before coming to Vienna. The heir, Halsey, was safely tucked away at Oxford in England. Little did they know, however, that what Hugh knew of what Halsey was up to at Oxford only fed his own desire to “get on with it.”

Coming to the doorway of George’s room, Hugh was not surprised—or shocked—by what he saw, and he remained, watching it to its climax, wishing that he were Holst.

Both of them, George and Holst, were naked. The small, solidly built, peasant-stock Holst was lying on his stomach on the bed, with George, weaving a bit, clearly into his cups, sitting beside him. George was leaning over the stable boy and had just kissed him on the upper back, between the shoulder blades, and was rising into a sitting position as Hugh came to the door. Holst’s left arm was wrapped around George’s waist, the arm draped over George’s left thigh, and Holst’s hand was encasing George’s erection and slow stroking it. George was stroking and squeezing the stable boy’s plump buttocks with his right hand. The boy moaned as George’s fingers slid into the crease of the orbs and pressed inside.

Holst groaned and raised up a bit on his knees, lifting his buttocks into George’s searching hand. George’s finger sank in deeper.

George kissed down the youth’s body. Holst moaned as George raised his right leg, placing the youth’s ankle on his shoulder, and George’s mouth covered the young man’s cock. The finger in the youth’s channel became two, moving in and out.

“Ja, ja,” Holst murmured and arched his back, his hands going to the back of George’s head as the man’s mouth on the cock was changed to a hand and George moved lower, his tongue pushing into the crease of the stable boy’s buttocks. “Ja, ja, ja,” the young man whimpered as George tongued his hole, alternating with nipping at and licking the stable boy’s plump cheeks.

“Frick mich. Frick mich—Fuck me, fuck me,” Hugh heard the stable boy beg.

As Hugh, panting and fingering himself, watched, George twisted around, went up on the bed on his knees, mounted the youth’s buttocks, holding his cock in his hand until he had gained purchase of the bulb in the hole, and then hovered over Holst’s prone body, which Holst held with his buttocks raised to the cock. George planted his knees on either side of the stable boy’s thighs and his hands in the mattress on either side of Holst’s shoulders. Hovering there, his cock penetrated the passage.

Holst panted and gave a little cry of, “Ja, so. Gib es mir. Fich mich!—Yes, give it to me. Fuck me!” As Hugh watched, aching that it would be him rather than Holst, George worked his cock in deep, as the youth writhed under him and used the leverage of his knees to set his pelvis in motion, rising and falling on the young Austrian’s ass. The length of George’s cock appeared and disappeared as the young man under him started a countermotion of his own of raising his buttocks on the downstroke and lowering them as two-thirds of the hard cock surfaced from the crease. Holst’s right hand was tucked under his belly, grasping his own cock, held slightly above the surface of the mattress, and was stroking it and dragging it across the coverlet. He too was hard.

All three who were fully engaged in this copulation—Hugh was engaged as well—were panting.

At the moment both of the figures jerked and shuddered, and came, Hugh gave a little cry himself as a wet spot appeared and spread on the front of his sleeping trousers, and he turned and returned to his own room, frustrated and mumbling to himself, “I don’t know why . . . I’m nineteen now, older than Holst.” It wasn’t like he wasn’t ready for it. He had toughened up. He opened the drawer of his nightstand and rummage in the back of the drawer. He pulled out the dildo he had acquired from Halsey, oiled it up, inserted it, and slowly worked himself. It was as long and as thick as George’s cock. It wasn’t that he couldn’t take a shaft. It was that he hadn’t taken a real man’s shaft. He knew he could take George’s cock, if the man would put it in him.

* * * *

Hugh returned to George’s room in the morning, aching for it and determined to bring this to a head. His parents didn’t care. They didn’t pay any attention to him. Whatever affection he got was from George. George fucked eighteen-year-old boys. Hugh had watched him do it. Hugh was nineteen. George hadn’t made any effort to steer Hugh away from interest in men—they’d touched, even touched intimately. They’d kissed. George just was afraid to go further because he thought it threatened his job. Hugh’s parents probably didn’t even care. George could damn well initiate Hugh and the two of them could have the romantic relationship Hugh craved. If George refused to do it, Hugh would threaten to tell his parents he tried to do it anyway, and then they’d see if it mattered to them. Hugh would tell them he wouldn’t give them any trouble if they’d just give him George.

But when Hugh got to the room, he saw that George was hopelessly in a deep, snoring sleep. Worse, Holst was still in bed with him, the two stretched out against each other, naked, their arms and legs entwined.

In frustration, Hugh backed away from George’s door. He went back to his own room and dressed for a hike. They lived on the edge of the fabled Vienna Woods, and he still had not explored it. He grabbed a roll with cheese it in as he passed the kitchen, mumbling to the cook that he was going to study the vegetation in the forest as his assignment that day and left the villa.

He walked into the woods and kept on walking for an hour. He came upon a pond in a clearing. He saw the folded clothes, a multicolored embroidered vest on top, before he realized that someone was in the pond. The someone was another youth—a young man who looked like he was Hugh’s own age. He had an exotic appearance. His skin was of a dusky appearance, his features were sharp, albeit quite handsome, and his hair was jet black and curly. His eyes were black too, and they sparkled when they took in Hugh approaching.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see that anyone was here,” Hugh said, the words catching in his throat, as it was shallow where the youth was swimming, and, when he stood, Hugh saw that the youth was naked. His body was slim, his hips narrow. His was a beautiful, young, boyish body. But he had the cock of a man.

Hugh realized he’d spoken in English and now attempted German. “Es tut mir leid, wenn du mich nicht verstehst. Ich wess nicht, welche Sprache du sprichst—And sorry, if you don’t understand me. I don’t know what language you speak. My German is not too good.”

“English is fine. My people all speak English. When we were there, the English pretended not to understand any other language, so we learned theirs. Then we found out they didn’t want to understand us—they wanted us to go away. I don’t wish to be alone. Come into the pond with me,” the young man said. His voice was rich. He had some sort of foreign accent—not German. There wasn’t anything Germanic about him at all. That might have been why Hugh’s first instinct was not to address him in German. He was exotic, a being of the Orient, in Hugh’s eyes. Hugh was mesmerized.

“I don’t have a suit to wear.”

“I didn’t either,” the youth said, “as you can see.” He had been standing in shallow water, naked, He sank down into the water now and pushed off farther into the pond. “I am Nicu. You don’t sound Austrian.”

“I’m not,” Hugh said, as he stripped off his clothes and was folding them neatly. “I’m English. My name is Hugh. My family is here to play in a concert in Vienna. You don’t sound Austrian, either.”

“I’m not. I’m Romany,” Nicu answered. “My family is just passing through. We have been to England, as I said. Do come into the water, Hugh. Swim with me.”

Romany. Hugh knew that was the word for the gypsies, who traveled here and there in Europe in caravans, footloose and a law until themselves until the locals forced them to move on. Exotic indeed, and Hugh had been forbidden to have any contact with them. Perfect for the mood he was in. He finished stripping down to naked and waded into the pool.

The two youths swam circles around each other, discussing this and that—the Romany life and how free it was and Hugh’s life and how restricted it was. They discussed their likes and dislikes. Nicu spoke of the free and easy life, with few “no’s” and a great deal of indulging pleasures, and Hugh spoke of his sexual frustration and need—and of how his parents managed to smother him while not paying him any attention. Hugh was quite open about his sexual dilemma and how frustrated it made him.

Nicu swam circles around Hugh, moving in and touching the youth lightly here, there, and there, and then moving away. Hugh found the touching arousing.

“You mean you are still a virgin?” Nicu asked, somewhat incredulously, as he swam in closer to Hugh. “With a fine cock like you have? You have a beautiful body. You have not lain with a girl yet? You have a very nice cock and you are a handsome man. I would have thought you would have easily had your way with girls by now.”

“No,” Hugh answered. Nicu caught the tone of Hugh’s voice. “But it is a man you want, isn’t it?” he asked. “You spoke of your tutor and how handsome he is. You sound almost as if you are in love with him. You want to lie under him, don’t you? No, it’s just the two of us here, you can speak the truth. I lie with men. I lie with women too. We Romany take our pleasures where we can find them. Giving or taking, woman or man. It makes no difference to us—to me—if it gives pleasure.”

Hugh was fascinated. This was just the sort of open talk and thinking that he ached to have. He felt so repressed by his parents and their class. “We have embraced and kissed, but he won’t do more,” Hugh said, his voice revealing his frustration and ache. “But I’ve seen him do more—with another boy my age—one younger than me.”

“You saw him fucking this other boy?”

“Yes.”

“And you want him to cover you—to be inside you?”

“Yes.”

“How old are you, Hugh?”

“Nineteen.”

“And you are still a virgin? I am nineteen too, Hugh.”

“And you are not a virgin?”

Nicu laughed. “Nowhere close, Hugh. I’m sure I am a father of more than one bawling brat. More than one girl—and a few older women—have said I have given them babies. I know I have tried as I have had the chance. I have fucked many women. They say they like having my cock inside them. I like fucking women. But I lie under men too, and I fuck men. I get pleasure from that too. I’m sure I would want your tutor to cover me too. And this stable boy you spoke of. I bet I could make him moan. I have done both with other men. Men have covered me and been inside me and then I have fucked them. And I am but nineteen, just as you are. It is almost a crime to still be a virgin at nineteen. Come here, Hugh. Swim to me.”

Hugh didn’t really have to swim far to reach Nicu. That Nico required him to do so after having told him what Nicu would and could do with another man was mostly symbolic. He wanted Hugh to come to him. It was a signal of acceptance. Aching with need, Hugh did so.

Nicu had come in close. In fact, as they had talked, he had touched Hugh here and there, with the effect not having been lost on Hugh, who was panting lightly and who was feeling himself engorge. That was a part of his issue. He could react as a man now. Why wasn’t he being treated like a man? He knew George was attracted to him, and George was lying with the stable boy, Holst. And Holst was younger than Hugh was. He just was from the stable yard and Hugh was not. Higher levels of restraint were expected of Hugh. Well, as Hugh knew, Halsey was lying under men at Oxford, and Halsey was a year older than Hugh was.

It was time. It was beyond time.

The two boys floated together. Nicu encircled Hugh’s torso with one arm, holding the other youth close to him as they floated in the water. Hugh stiffened.

“Relax, Hugh. Go with me. I wish to help you.” Hugh relaxed. Nicu brought their lips together and they kissed. Hugh stiffened a bit, but Nicu kissed him again, deeper, pushing his tongue between Hugh’s lips, and Hugh relaxed again and moaned deep in his throat.

“I am going to make love to you—release you from your worry and frustration, Hugh. I am going to fuck you and relieve you of your unwanted virginity to a man.”

Hugh moaned again, but he didn’t say no. He made no effort to swim out of Nicu’s embrace.

Nicu’s other hand went between them, gliding down Hugh’s shuddering torso all the way down to his groin. Nicu encased Hugh’s cock with his hand. He encased both of their shafts together. They both were hard. Their lips met again and they kissed—deeply, Hugh’s lips parting, pressed open by Nicu’s lips. Nicu began to rock his pelvis against Hugh and Hugh instinctively fell into the rhythm of that. They kissed more deeply, Nicu’s tongue pushing in between Hugh’s lips. Their bodies were pressed together, rocking against each other, sending circles of water off into the pond.

“Do you want me to stop, Hugh?”

“No,” the overwhelmed young man answered.

Nicu took one of Hugh’s hands and moved it to their cocks, making Hugh encase the two shafts together and frot them, as his hand now snaked around Hugh’s waist and went lower, his fingers search for, and finding, the crease in Hugh’s buttocks and then his anal opening. Hugh broke from the kiss and leaned back, looking up into the sky, panting harder now and moaning. Then groaning as Nicu’s long, slender finger went deeper inside Hugh. It was joined by another, and then the two fingers started to move: in, out; in deeper, out. The tips found Hugh’s prostate, introducing him to a whole new sensation of pleasure. The heel of Nicu’s hand pressed into Hugh’s tailbone, pulling Hugh’s groin into Nicu’s. There was no question they both were erect.

“Tell me true, Hugh. Have you for true never had a shaft inside you?”

Hugh hesitated.

“It makes a difference how I fuck you, Hugh. There will be more pleasure if you have experimented.”

“I have experimented,” Hugh admitted.

“With what?”

Hugh told him about the dildo he’d stolen from George’s room and kept hidden away. Nicu laughed. “Often or rarely?”

“Often now,” Hugh admitted.

“You do want it.”

“Yes.”

The pleasure was overwhelming. Hugh knew he should break it off. But he’d dreamed of this, waited for this for far too long. Nicu coaxed Hugh to raise his legs in the water and hook them onto Nicu’s hips. Then, under Nicu’s guidance, Hugh leaned back, his fists locked behind Nicu’s neck to hold himself there, steady. His pelvis rolled up.

“Nicu, Nicu, Nicu,” he murmured as Nicu put the bulb of his cock in place, and then “Oh, God! Nicu!” he cried out as the hand on Hugh’s tailbone pulled his passage onto Nicu’s penetrating cock. Hugh instinctively writhed a bit as his passage reluctantly responded and stretched, ineffectually trying at first to pull away from the invading shaft and to expel it, but that only served to pull the cock deeper. Hugh had been training the passage with a dildo, a leather, horse-hair-filled shaft with a wooden glans at the tip, so Nicu’s cock wasn’t alien to the passage. Nicu only went in a few inches, though, and held, as Hugh gasped.

“Relax, relax. Take it. It’s done now. Take the rest of it. You want it.”

Hugh surrendered. He let his body collapse, his passage walls gave way, and Nicu sank in to the root.

“You have experimented well,” he whispered.

He gently started the pump, applying and releasing pressure on Hugh’s tailbone to pull him onto the shaft and to let it withdraw. In, out, in out. They were settling into the rhythm of the fuck.

In an instant, Hugh was no longer a virgin to a man’s shaft. He sobbed, concentrating on the pain-pleasure as Nicu grasped and spread his buttocks cheeks and pulled him on and off the hard shaft, intensifying the movement of the cock in the passage. Faster in motion, deeper in thrusts. But Hugh held, exhilarated that he’d been freed at last, concentrating on the pleasure rather than the pain. Within minutes he released his seed up the Romany youth’s belly. Nicu quickly followed with his breeding deep inside the passage, and Hugh’s initiation was complete.

They fucked again on the mossy bank of the pond, Nicu on top of Hugh, Hugh’s legs spread, his heels rubbing on the meat of Nicu’s calves in the rhythm of the fuck. The stroking was more assured, the thrusts stronger. Hugh’s response was more as a partner in the movement than a docile vessel.

Hugh couldn’t get enough of it now. When they finished, Nicu lay stretched out beside but hovering over Hugh’s body. “That is what you wanted, what you needed,” he murmured.

“Yes,” Hugh agreed.

“But it’s not all of it. There is more.”

“More?”

“Yes. I am just another youth. You talk of your tutor. He’s a man. You need a man between your thighs. A big-cocked man.”

“You have a big cock.”

“Not like that of a man who can take you to heaven in pleasure. A man of experience who can teach you of the pleasures you can have from sexual freedom. There are many different ways of receiving a man. You will want to learn and experience them all.”

Hugh didn’t answer. He couldn’t think of anything to say. Lying under Nicu was such pleasure. The initial pain of it had receded. The second time, here on the bank of the pond, had been glorious—well, mainly. Pain still, of course, but covered by the pleasure, the emotional high of having another man fused with him, inside him, wanting him so badly. It could be more glorious than this? Nicu was saying it was even better with an older man.

“Older men will have different ways of doing it?”

“Yes, certainly. Come back with me to our encampment. There are men there who will introduce you to paradise.”

“There are men there who—?”

“We are Romany. We have all of the secrets. That is why wherever we go, we are chased out of wives’ beds and boy’s barn lofts. It is never the wives or boys who chase us away, though. You will not chase away the Romany men I take you to.”

So anxious was Hugh to cross over into freedom from his virginity to men, regardless of the young age at which this anxiety had set upon him, that when it was taken from him in a Vienna Woods pond by a gypsy, he thought nothing of what was lost, only of what was gained. Even after having been covered many more times that day could he think of his new life in any terms other than freedom and exhilaration and as a rite of passage to a more desirable life among and with men.

* * * *

Entering the circle of colorfully decorated gypsy wagons in an isolated opening in the Vienna Woods forest was like stepping into a whole new, freer, devil-may-care world. It was totally different from anything Hugh had known before. All inhibitions went to the four winds. Music wafted on the air as he and Nicu, only having taken the time to pull on their underdrawers, approached the clearing.

No women were in sight in the circle of fantasy wagons. This was a unique band of Romany. There were six men beside Nicu, the youngest among them and the best at catching men, in a spread of age from twenty to sixty, all handsome bucks, even the sixty-year-old, all nearly bare-chested, with gaily embroidered vests on swarthy muscular chests, highlighted with medallions hanging from gold chains. Nicu had told Hugh that the band roved Europe searching out young men to seduce. They supplied each other with men, just as Nicu was now supplying the needy Hugh to the other men of his family.

They were barefooted and wore billowy, almost diaphanous trousers that tied around their waists but puddled to the ground at a mere pull on the sash at the waist. Although muscular, they all were that in a wiry way, and they all were slim men, although the sixty-year-old was thickening a bit at the waist, while still being hard bodied. They were dark complexioned, lightly bearded, had jet-black hair and flashing eyes, were slightly hirsute, and all had a foxy, yet quite handsome aspect. They all had big cocks that were perpetually erect. They would robustly and lustfully fuck anything that moved.

They all turned their attention to the two nineteen-year-olds entering the circle hand in hand.

Three of them had been sitting on the steps up to one of the wagons, playing a dice-casting game. Two others were playing music, one a violin and another a lute-like instrument. The sixth man was brushing down horses tethered to a rope running between two trees.

As they entered the clearing, Nicu boldly introduced the men, pointing to them, saying, “That’s Pitti with the lute; over there is Ferka, playing the violin. On the wagon steps are Hanji, Milosh, and Old Yanko. You will squeal for Yanko and it’s best to be with him last. Besnik is with the horses. Men of Romany, this is my new friend, Hugh. He is English and, like me, he is nineteen. I just took his virginity from him in a pond. He wanted to be free of it. He lost it quite well. He is young, innocent, and in need of men to teach him to take the cock. He has a channel that is tight but that opens up for a good fit. Who will be first?”

Hugh blushed, but this was all so new and different and surreal to him that he just floated along, going with the moment.

“He is a beauty. I will do him. Come over here, boy,” said the lute player. “Do you know anything about music?”

Considering his heritage, Hugh felt he knew everything about music. “I know that is a lute you are playing,” he said. “I know how to play it.”

“We’ll see about that. Come sit in my lap and play it for me,” Pitti said. As Hugh docilely went over to the man, who was sitting on a rock, he saw Nicu go to the men at the wagon steps. Two of them rose and moved to where they’d be able to watch Pitti with Hugh. The third man, Old Yanko, undid his sash and pulled his trousers open as, slipping his underdrawers off, Nicu went to him. The old man had a long, thick erection rising from his black and gray bush. Nicu sat on it, facing him, and the man, grasping the boy’s waist, began fucking him like it was just a natural routine of their day, raising and lowering the young man on his cock. Nicu was groaning deeply. Old Yanko was strong, with big hands. He was lifting and slamming Nicu down on the cock and Nicu was writhing like a rag doll and doing a bit of the squealing he had promised Hugh was on offer.

Pitti pulled Hugh down into his lap facing away from him and pulled the lute around and put it in the youth’s hands, as Hugh reached him. Hugh was trembling and panting as, having been pulled down into the gypsy’s lap, he realized Pitti had opened his trousers and had a long cock rising up the boy’s lower back. The shaft was becoming hard as steel. Hugh took the lute, and despite all the surrealistic fantasy of the situation that should have given him self-preservative pause, started playing a haunting melody on the instrument. Ferka came in close, standing by them, and joined the melody on the violin.

Hugh became lost in the melody he was playing and in Pitti’s hands roaming his body, making him gasp and moan and purr and preparing him for his fate. When the lute music had floated away, Ferka had taken over with the violin. He was standing right next to the seated Pitti and Hugh now, though, his trousers puddled down to the ground, and his cock in Hugh’s mouth. Hugh was on Pitti’s cock and being raised and lowered on it. He wasn’t nearly as long and thick as Old Yanko was, as Hugh was going to find out, but he was filling and active enough that Hugh lost all ability to strum the lute. He barely had the ability to suck Ferka’s cock and writhe and do a little squealing himself. Still, this was all gloriously freeing for him.

In a haze, Hugh looked over to where he’d last seen Nicu, to see that the gypsy named Hanzi was standing Nicu against the side of one of the wagons. Nicu’s knees were hooked on Hanzi’s bare hips, and the older gypsy was rubbing Nicu’s back up and down on the side of the wagon with the strength of his up-thrusting cock. Milosh knelt between Hugh’s legs and took the young man’s cock in his mouth. Hugh was held captive in place by hands and cocks and glorious pleasures. He came in a flood of cum. The gypsies were taking their time with their pleasures. They were all coming up to the edge and backing off, knowing that the best of times was to come. Hugh was too fresh to hold off on any edge. He came so many times that afternoon that his balls ached during his walk home. But he was humming.

When Hugh, Pitti, and Ferka had released their seed the first time, Besnik, swishing leather horse leads against his legs, walked over from the horse line, pulled Hugh out from between the other gypsy men, slung him over his shoulder, and carried him up into one of the wagons. He lay the young man on a horse-hair mattress on a built-in bed jutting out from the inner side of the wagon and used the leather leads to bind the boy’s wrists to a hook in back of the bed, above the headboard. He used other leads to tie Hugh’s raised and spread legs at the ankles to hooks in the ceiling of the wagon. Hugh was too exhausted, satiated, and in awe already to resist being bound.

Besnik then opened the front of his trousers, crouched over Hugh’s torso, and introduced the boy to nipple play while he penetrated Hugh’s passage, and fucked him, sliding with little difficulty in the cum Pitti had deposited there.

After Besnik was done, he gave over his place between Hugh’s thighs to Milosh, and then Hanzi, Ferka, and, for a second time Roman. Only then did Old Yanko step forward and force a shaft inside Hugh that made him think that nothing had ever been up his passage before. The men were inventive and capable. Each one of them brought some new variation, technique, or experience to the fuck. They were of varying lengths and thicknesses and intensity. Each contributed to the sexual education for the submissive partner Hugh was going to at least start out being for men. They, in turn, feasted on the sweetness and beauty of the boy. They took their time, having the experience to vary their pace and technique to make the most of an arousal, marshaling of ejaculate, and joyful release. They gave Hugh time to open to them and, increasingly, he was learning to control his passage muscles. None of them were cruel with the boy. That would come in time, if that was what he grew to want.

This day was for helping the young man decide he truly wanted to go with men and for the Romany men to pleasure themselves in the process.

The sun was high in the sky before the last of the gypsies had had his way with the youth and he was released, helped to hobble out of the wagon, and aided on his way back out of the Vienna Woods and to Weinerwald.

As he struggled out of the clearing, he passed the reclined, sprawling, moaning figure of Nicu, who, as a reward for bringing an afternoon’s entertainment for the gypsy men, had been included in the rotation of covering men—Hugh inside the wagon and Nicu outside, on the ground. The smile on Nicu’s face, the open stance of his naked body, and his purr and blowing of bubbles assured Hugh that he himself wasn’t especially wanton for having enjoyed the education and attention he’d received.

Hugh took it all for the release, freeing, and education that Nicu had told him it would be. It was all so surreal that thereafter he wasn’t sure what part of it had been real. It had all been a clash of cymbals, trumpet fanfares, and a kaleidoscope of revolving bright colors as it had happened. There had been pain, but far, far more pleasure, opening up a whole new, free world for him. The gypsies had taken what care they could while giving him a crash course in being a submissive.

Hugh had desperately wanted to become a man’s man and now he was a man’s youth in training for his own form of manhood.

* * * *

When he returned to the Weinerwald villa that evening and to a sobered George, who had wondered where his charge was and whether he’d return before his parents came back and discovered his absence, Hugh had a new sense of purpose and entitlement.

On his way home, Hugh passed through a shopping street of Weinerwald and happened upon a green grocer’s shop with bins of produce out on the street. A muscular, extremely handsome man of some thirty years was taking produce back into his shop in a wooden crate. He had a rough, assured manner about him. He looked up as Hugh was passing, and the young man stopped, blushed, and looked slightly awed. To Hugh, after what he had just experienced with the gypsy men, the grocer looked quite arousing. He was wearing bib overalls with nothing on his chest under that, and what Hugh could see of the man’s body sent him stirring. The crotch of the overalls did little to hide the line and size of the man’s shaft—a shaft that seemed to come alive when he spied Hugh.

Hugh smiled at the man and the man smiled back, with a look in his eyes that Hugh had so recently seen in the eyes of Hanzi and Pitti, and Ferka. Hugh responded with the look of submission he had learned that day from the gypsies. The grocer leered and popped his tongue in his cheek. Hugh just gave him a shy look. Looking around and deciding they weren’t being watched, the grocer made a sheath out of the fingers of one hand and inserted the middle finger of his other hand in the sheath and moved it in and out. Although Hugh had never seen that gesture before, he had a fair inkling of what the grocer was conveying and he just smiled at the man. He was beginning to feel tingly all over. One of his hands dropped to his crotch. Was his new life starting already?

“Wohnst du hier?—Do you live here?” the man asked Hugh.

“Ich bin Englander. Ich wohne fur den Sommer Mittenwald Strasse aus—I am English. I live out Mittenwald Strasse for the summer.”

“Du bist ein wunderschöner Junge. Lieben Sie unter Männern?—You are a beautiful boy. Tell me, do you lie under men? Do you understand what I am asking.”

Hugh neither answered nor moved off.

The man continued, somewhat apologetic in tone. “I am sorry to be so bold. But I am a simple man with simple needs and you have given me a look of want. I think I know what you want and what want of mine you could meet.”

“Yes, I go with men,” Hugh answered then, in a soft voice, not looking up into the man’s eyes.

“Kommst du jetzt in meinen Laden und liege dann unter mir?—Will you come into my shop now and lie under me then? My want is great, and I could be very good to you. I know your look. You want a man between your thighs.”

“Yes, I will lie under you.” Hugh whispered.

The muscular grocer held Hugh under him in a dark garret above the store. Hugh was on his hands and knees and the man was covering him from above, crouching and rocking on the balls of his feet, arms encircling Hugh’s torso, a hand stroking the boy’s cock. Both were naked. He was mounted high on the boy’s tail. He was thick and long inside Hugh’s channel. The penetration had been slow, stretching, glorious. It was pliant, though, because of all the stretching it had received earlier in the day. The muscular grocer was slowly pumping the passage that, only earlier that day, had been virgin to the touch of man. It was a well-used channel now and, to the grocer’s great pleasure, the boy was learning how to make the passage muscles undulate over and caress the stroking cock. The two were divinely matched. The need of each was being met.

Hugh was moaning. The man was teething one of the youth’s earlobes. The hand he wasn’t stroking Hugh’s cock with was working Hugh’s nipples. The man was giving Hugh new sensations, new forms of sexual arousal, new reasons to choose this life.

“Schöner Junge; Susser Junge—Beautiful boy; sweet boy,” the grocer intoned in Hugh’s ear, nuzzling and kissing the boy’s throat. “Ein Geschenk der Götter—a gift from the gods. Ein Geschenk von Antinoos—a gift from Antinous.”

Hugh never felt so needed, so wanted. Hugh wondered who Antinous was, but he didn’t want to shatter the moment by asking and only learned upon reaching home that Antinous was the god of homosexuals. Homosexuals. So, he was a homosexual.

The grocer, lost in the moment, was humming as he moved his cock in, out; in, out, deep in the soft, spongy core of the nearly virgin territory. Hugh moaned. “Ja, ja, ja.” he sighed. “Fricken mich, fricken mich gut—Fuck me, fuck me good.”

The man fucked him good. Slide in, withdraw; slide in again, passage opening more; the youth groaning deeply. “Ja, ja.” Slide in deeper, withdraw. Slow, slow. Faster, faster. Gripping the young submissive’s body. Faster, fasterfasterfaster. DEEPER. Hugh held, rigid, on hands and knees, under the enfolding man, every nerve ending focused on the now frenzied-moving cock deep in his soft core, tearing its pleasure out of the youth. Giving Hugh pleasure in return. The two were one. Fucking, fucking, fucking.

“ACH SO! FUCK ME!” Hugh began to shudder and to writhe under the man who was pounding him now. Deep, hard, relentless pounding, both of them losing control, not being able to get enough of each other. Thrust, thrust, thrust. Hugh collapsed in the strong grocer’s arms, but the grocer kept him in place. Thrust, thrust, thrust. Hugh cried out and ejaculated.

When the grocer released his seed, he rolled away from the young man and brought them down onto their sides, Hugh cuddled into his chest. As they rested, the man worked the youth’s tender body with his calloused, trembling hands, lovingly gliding over the elastic skin, seeking out curves and crevices. while Hugh sighed and moaned at the pleasure of a man’s worshipful touch.

Feeling the man’s shaft rising again at the small of his back, Hugh turned his head for a deep kiss. The man’s lips moved down Hugh’s body. Fingers touching him here, lips kissing there, until, lifting and spreading the boy’s legs, the man arrived at Hugh’s cock, giving him pleasure there, and then traveled lower, his tongue flicking at Hugh’s passage. The boy arched his back, moaned, and moved his hips against the grocer’s face. Hugh was well open from earlier in the day as well as from the grocer’s thick attentions, and the grocer’s tongue went in deep, lapping at the tender skin that had experienced so many men that day. Hugh moaned his pleasure.

The man kissed back up to the youth’s lips. Coming out of that kiss, Hugh murmured, “Wieder. Fich mir wieder, bitte—Again. Fuck me again, please.”

With a smile and a contented sigh, the grocer rolled over, turning Hugh onto his back, pressed his knees under the boy’s buttocks to lift his pelvis into position, grasped Hugh’s ankles and wishboned the boy’s legs wide, penetrated him, and began again the dance of the fuck.

Day one and Hugh had entered the world of men on youths. It was just a beginning.

“Du kommst wieder zu mir?—You will come to me again?” the grocer asked at the door when Hugh was leaving.

“Ja, jederzeit in diesem Sommer—Yes, any time this summer,” Hugh whispered.

The grocer was palming Hugh’s lower back and let the hand drift down to the young man’s buttocks. He moved slightly there at the door into the shop as if he would give Hugh a kiss on the lips, but then he realized they were on the street and he just touched the young man’s forearm lightly with the fingers of a hand, extending their connection for as long as possible. Hugh looked down at the calloused hand that had so recently been touching him intimately everywhere and he shuddered. This man had known him completely. This man had been inside him twice and had moaned and had called Hugh Ein Geschenk—a gift. Yes, he would be back. He couldn’t wait for the feel of the grocer’s shaft far up inside him, in his soft core, again.

George was so relieved when Hugh came home that he didn’t dwell on resisting the boy’s new sexual demands. The boy had been prepared to tell the tutor that he would tell his parents George was fucking him unless he did so. But it didn’t come to that, and George wasn’t the only man in the town who would want Hugh to lie under him anyway. George could see the change in the youth—the new awareness and boldness in him, and the young man, after all, had a beautiful body to die for.

It just came as a great surprise to George when Hugh pressed him onto his back on his bed, took the tutor’s cock in his mouth until it was engorged and throbbing, mounted the handsome man’s pelvis, and began to fuck himself on George’s cock in a manner of wantonness that showed that the youth knew exactly what to do now to please a man and to please himself with the man’s shaft as well. But George just lay back and enjoyed it—he might as well. Lord Chesterville might never put his violin down to see what his youngest son was up to.