Subject: Europe with Spartacus 25 The story is written in collaboration with my friend Fred in Norway 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 and suggestions we are always happy for feedback. All emails to ail will be answered. Can you imagine life without Nifty? Please show your support with contributions to keep the Archive online. You can find out how fty/donate.html Europe with Spartacus Chapter 25 Gap year (1976) It was early evening when the airport taxi stopped outside a fashionable building in the Kensington area. Ivar felt a little lost when he left the taxi here in the richer part of London. He turned to the broad stairs and was very happy when he saw a familiar face at the top. Jean, Mr Archie’s secretary, was waving to him and was a lively and informal contrast to the stiff surroundings. “Nice to see you, sexy.” Jean greeted him in the usual French manner and took care of his light bag. “Monsieur’s flat is on the second and third floors.” They used the stairs instead of the very modern glass-lift placed beside the Victorian stairs. From the stairs they came into another hall and again Jean pointed upwards. “There are two bedrooms and bathrooms up there; the master’s room and a guest room, used to be for his children I guess!” “Monsieur is waiting for you downstairs. He just received some guests for the evening meal. They are all excited to meet you!” Jean talked with gestures as well as his mouth and he guided Ivar into the huge room with double windows overlooking the garden outside. “Strange to be here. Quite a contrast to my room in Greenock!” Ivar said. “But very good to see you, Jean. Your trip to Scotland ended almost before it started!” “Oui mon ami, but I managed to taste the local whisky, and I even got drunk remember!” Jean’s white smile was close and inviting. “But you never came to my room Jean. I had hoped to please you like in Glasgow, you know.” Ivar moved closer and found Jean’s waiting lips. With one hand he very lightly touched Jean’s front. “No cage today, baby boy! Full freedom when monsieur allows me,” Jean whispered. “Why shouldn’t he? I managed both of you last time! But I guess we have no time for some foreplay now.” He found Jean’s hard dick and squeezed it. “No, sorry! Please freshen up and come downstairs.” Jean tried to adjust his very visible erection in the formal trousers he wore. “Are there many guests?” Ivar sounded a bit worried. “No baby, only Monsieur’s father-in-law and his African servant, and maybe Archie’s eldest son later if he can manage to change his shift at the hospital. “So Mr Archie really is married?” Ivar had never asked him direct about this. “Guess he still is. I’ve never seen his wife. She’s a professor in the US. “Jean was about to leave when he added, “The house here is her father’s. He’s rich, a Member of Parliament with interests in international trade.” “Wow, I have no suitable clothes!” Ivar said. “I hope to buy some before we leave for Amsterdam and Vienna. What shall I wear, do you think?” “Please stay naked, jeune homme. That’s what they all want, I’m sure!” Jean left with another bright smile. Ivar looked at himself in a huge mirror. His tan from France was gone, but he had stayed in shape. The super-tight white silk t-shirt with half-length sleeves was cut above his bellybutton and the ochre-coloured jeans showed the beginning of his arse-crack; some tight, smooth skin was visible. He had only to correct his wild hair and wet his lips before being ready for inspection. The three in the sitting room greeted him warmly. Archie kissed him lightly on cheeks and mouth and both the grey-haired old gentleman and his young black companion welcomed him with handshakes and big smiles. Jean was occupied with glasses and champagne in the open dining room. A rather surprised Ivar looked around. Different from what he had been thinking, the room looked like an art studio. There were hunting trophies all around and to Ivar’s amusement three modern jukeboxes as well as a pinball gaming machine between the elegant furniture. “The hunting trophies belong to Mr Williams.” Archie nodded at the old gentleman. “I’m not into hunting animals.” He grinned, and looked towards the older gentleman. “The modern�eh�collection is my son’s – toys for grown up lads.” He put an arm around Ivar and led him to the table. “So, you are not a collector yourself, sir?” Ivar small-talked while he studied the very charming politician and the super-hot ebony servant wearing a colourful African dashiki and white trousers. “He collects cute young men!” Mr Williams voice was very direct. Archie did not comment. On the wall next to the dining room was a glass cabinet. Inside was a collection of whips and different spanking instruments. Ivar remembered the nine-tailed cat from the New Year party. Archie saw that Ivar was curious. “Well, this is my collection, boy! We may take a look later on, but now we have champagne and clams.” “Good for your libido!” Mr Williams patted Ivar on the butt. “This lad is not in lack of libido, old man Williams!” Archie pinched Ivar’s naked waist. Two hours later and the temperature in the room was high. Ivar was trying out the music collection and Jean played pinball with the African. Both Archie and Mr Williams had thrown away their jackets, and had started on their third whisky. Ivar was slight drunk, and ready for action. He had been modest with the champagne and also with the following wines, but he was not so familiar with whisky. The music he found was heavy, and he started to dance in front of the jukebox. In a glimpse to the side, he saw that Mr Williams and Archie were looking at him, the way only horny men watch a target. The old man gave him a sign and Ivar went over to him. “I have some trophies to show you, young man!” He found Ivar’s arm and led him to a door at the back of the room. The library and study inside smelled of old leather. Just inside the door the man placed his hands on Ivar’s shoulders. “May I see you naked, young man? Archie has told me about you, and I can’t wait!” The man trembled and his voice was unclear. He sat down on an old sofa with Ivar in front of him. With fragile hands he played with Ivar’s nipples through the thin fabric. Then he let his hands follow Ivar’s back all the way down to the naked skin between shirt and trousers. “Go on, sir. Please undress me. It’s hot here.” Ivar helped the man to strip off the tight shirt. Without waiting for permission, the man used his dry lips and light tongue to play with the erect nipples and the navel. Ivar felt the old man’s excitement and used his hands to caress the man’s hair and neck. Next step was the trousers. Ivar had naughty underwear today, a small jock that covered nothing, but helped emphasise the shape of his round, hard buttocks. Mr Williams cupped the round globes and sniffed Ivar’s crotch. The teenager’s 19 cm (7.5 inch) full erection made the pouch stretch. Just a small movement and the stiff cock left the covering. “Allow me to taste you, young man!” ankara escort Mr Williams opened his mouth and took Ivar’s wet cock inside. The situation was extreme, a naked youngster and a fully-dressed gentleman. In most situations things would have been the opposite. Ivar had been ready to offer the older man a blow-job, but now the British MP sucked him like it was his profession. Ivar knew he would cum very quickly. Even though Doug had milked him that morning he knew the signs, starting like a wave between his arse and balls and then following his inner body up to the prostate. Then came the tremendous feelings when the loads spurted through the urethra and into the old man’s mouth. “I’m, sir! Sorry, sir! But I couldn’t..!” Ivar just let his young cream fill the old man. With a warm glance up to Ivar’s face, the man swallowed one big mouthful. Then he licked his lips, returned to Ivar’s cock and licked off the remaining spunk. He even pulled Ivar’s foreskin all the way back and licked the rear of the divided glans and the red, open piss-slit. It was like an inspection by the man’s tongue. The action made Ivar’s knees tremble. Mr Williams used his hands around the back of Ivar’s head and let him understand that he wanted his lips. A kiss followed; not a hot and sexy kiss, but a thank you. “You want me to suck you now, sir?” Ivar was about to kneel. “No, young man. Let’s re-join the host now. The evening is still young.” Mr Williams needed some help to get out of the low couch. Ivar then looked for his clothes. “Drop it, son! You are dressed well enough.” Ivar smiled but followed the man back to the sitting room wearing only the tight jock and a pair of light shoes. The young man with lots of libido still presented a nice hard-on inside the pouch and the youngsters at the pinball table applauded. “So Mr Williams showed you some of his hunting skills!” Archie grinned and handed both his father-in-law and the young man he just emptied a new whisky on the rocks. Minutes later Ivar was back in front of the juke box, dancing in an even more spirited fashion. The two by the pinball table were obviously distracted. “Undress, Dodo! Show the Viking real native rhythm,” Mr Williams instructed his servant. The ebony lad threw his dashiki and his trousers aside in quite a professional manner and displayed a small piece of underwear with a see-through front and a back string between the black globes. The dancing was intense. The audience could see that Ivar wasn’t the only one who sported a full erection. “Strip them. Use your teeth, Jean!” Archie commanded. Ivar and the African stopped and let Jean attend to them. Trained, Jean tugged the underwear down with his teeth and lips and managed to undress the two completely. Two cocks, two twin-cocks, both with visible foreskin, both long and medium thick, both completely smooth and both with shaved balls, Ivar hard-balled and the African more low-hanging; Ivar white, Dodo ebony black. A wild dance followed. It became more a wrestling performance than a show dance and the two used hands and fingers in all possible ways. “Fuck him, Viking! Make him your property!” Archie shouted and groped his own bulge. “Mount him, Dodo. Fuck him and bite him! I know your skills.” Mr Williams encouraged his player like a coach. “Let’s show the oldies, eh?” Ivar whispered close to the African. “I’ll rim you first and you rim me, okay?” Ivar forced the African up to the pinball table and pushed his upper body down on the porn-lit machine. “Get me some lube, Jean!” Ivar just ordered before he knelt behind the lad and rimmed him with a wet tongue. When Jean was back he used two lubed fingers and rather directly penetrated the lad up to his knuckles. The lad screamed like a hurt animal. Ivar just answered with a spank on his round sweat buttocks. “Your turn, amigo!” Ivar whispered and placed himself on the glass table. Dodo went in action and was even harder than Ivar with his treatment. Without warning he mounted Ivar; one thrust and his long cock was all inside. Ivar just moaned. He loved hard play, but the rabbit-fuck was not his style. When the African took a break, Ivar got up and forced the dark youngster down on his knees and hands, spread his legs, and penetrated him. “We need some heat here, Jean.” Archie pointed to the glass cabinet with the collection of whips. Jean showed up holding a heavy whip with knots. Archie shook his head. “Stupid!” he shouted. “I just want them heated, not flogged!” Jean swapped to a rather innocent cock-whip and started on Ivar’s buttocks. He continued on Dodo’s back before he gave the boys’ balls and the visible cocks some rather hard strokes. A rather irritated Ivar saw that the two men, Archie and the old politician, had their cocks out from their formal trousers and were wanking with hard fists. “Damn! Damn!” Ivar whispered to Dodo. “Take care of Archie for me, and I’ll see if I can do the old hunter. Let’s take command here!” The two crawled over to the men sitting in huge leather chairs. “You want me, sir? All the way, sir?” Ivar placed his hands in Mr Williams’ already opened trousers and pulled both the trousers and the underwear down. The man tried to hide his half-hard dark brown cock, but Ivar pushed the hands away and started to suck the growing, not very big cock. Either Ivar was a very good sucker or the gentleman had been helped by the aphrodisiac, but the man very soon sported a wood many youngsters would envy. Ivar climbed onto the chair, opened his already creamed boy-cunt and lowered himself on the waiting spear. From the side Ivar could see similar action at the other chair. It was an inspiration for him to watch the black man hard-fuck the Scot with his wide-open arsehole. From a one-way fuck the action between Ivar and the old man changed. Mr Williams took control and Ivar felt close to heaven. He loved the man’s hands playing with his upper body, and he loved how his own cock docked the hairy belly in front of him. The old man was a good kisser too and Ivar was close to the edge when the door from the hall opened and a young ginger-haired guy hurried into the room. “You couldn’t wait, could you? Old fuckers!” The newcomer managed to strip all his clothes while walking from the door into the middle of the room. He grasped the whip from Jean, forced him down on the glass-table and pulled down his trousers. With a howl from Jean, the lad dry-fucked him. The African shouted his orgasm for the whole room to hear, and so did Jean. Ivar was into a deep kiss with Mr Williams when the two ended at the same time. Ivar spunked off hands-free inside the gentleman’s silky shirt while the man filled his inner body. “You are great, sir! Best sex for ages!” Ivar whispered. Mr Williams played with his hair and Ivar kissed the man’s neck. The two, the old and the young, wished they had been all alone. “You come with me, son. Dodo can stay with Archie.” Mr Williams whispered. “Call for my car, junior!” Mr Williams commanded. The young man still fucking Jean, gritted his teeth and pounded his father’s secretary. “Just�please..grandpa�please…I’m�I’m..” He withdrew, took hold of his long young çukurambar escort cock and gave it some jerks before he spat his young load all over the man, the pinball machine and the wall behind. *** The sightseeing in Amsterdam had been very interesting. In the sunshine Jean had accompanied Ivar on an open hop on-hop off bus. The old MP, Mr Williams, had instructed Ivar what he had to see in Amsterdam and Vienna, and Ivar had been embarrassed when he got an envelope with money when he left the luxurious Kensington flat. “Archie is a miser, you see. Scottish, you know! Here’s some money for your private joy!” The man had waved Ivar off while sitting behind a chauffeur in a black official car. Ivar was lying on the bed in his hotel room. This time he had his own room, small, but well-furnished, next to Archie’s suite. He opened the Spartacus guide and marked where he had been today: Rijksmuseum, De Oude Kerk, Van Gogh Museum (Two xx, Ivar would like to go back there), Anne Frank’s House, Botanic Gardens (tomorrow, he wrote), and the canals. He turned to the next pages: `Gay Amsterdam’. Ivar had been disappointed when Archie had told him that he would be occupied that evening, and so would Jean. The two would see Ivar for lunch the next day, he had been told. So the evening and the night was Ivar’s. He had to think like a backpacker again. He turned on the TV, and tried the porn-channels; only screaming ugly ladies and men who pretended to fuck. Not his style. He found his most sexy clothes, then he went to the bathroom for a shower. “A night for cruising,” thought. The traditional hotel was situated in central Amsterdam, not far from one of the main canals. `Gay friendly’ was how the Spartacus guide described the establishment. When Ivar entered the Reception area, he looked for some information on local activities but he couldn’t find any. Behind the Reception bar was a young man serving drinks to an elderly male couple. “Anything I can do for you, sir?” The young man smiled. “Yes, I want to be sucked, and then I want to fuck your tight little cunt!” Ivar thought. “I need a street map, my friend! And I hope you can recommend a party house. I would like to dance in a place with hot music.” That was what he said. The lad found a map and placed two crosses, one for the hotel and one for a disco not far away. “You are lucky! The place re-opens this week, two floors with heavy music, and a lot of people. I was there two days ago, hot, hot!” Ivar saw the youngster’s thin bracelet in rainbow colours. “There’s probably a long queue, but take this card and use the side door.” The lad handed Ivar a business card. “Are there, I mean�?” Ivar was suddenly not the free-speaking guy he used to be. “A very mixed crowd as most places here in Amsterdam, but the majority are hunks who will try to get in your pants.” The young man winked at the couple who had overheard the conversation. Ivar blushed, gave the three a thumbs up, and left into the rather cool Amsterdam night. The business card was a real door opener. Ivar passed fifty youngsters, mostly males, who waited outside the black door. Every time the door opened the narrow street outside was filled with heavy music. A dance floor filled the first floor with a sort of stage at one side. Around the dance floor was a second floor built like a gallery. There were bars on the gallery and you could have full view of the dancers. Ivar knew how to get recognised, and felt very comfortable when he bought his first beer; money in his socks and full freedom in tight jeans and a super tight t-shirt. He wanted to drink out and dive into the hot Latino sound. Ivar, very confident now, went downstairs. He had a plan. He had seen a lot of young guys, some even shirtless, in front of the disc jockey. He would mix with them. But the youngster from the North made a mistake. He was close to the dance floor when he was surrounded by a group of screaming girls who dragged him out into the centre of the disco. Ivar was familiar with dancing girls and he managed the crowd well even if he was less happy with their groping. There was soon a change in music, some really heavy stuff, and Ivar was dancing with a group a young men, hot teens and sexy studs. And he was not unhappy with the groping from this crowd; he both gave and returned. Most of the dancing guys were very young and very fit. During the next half hour most of them were shirtless and sweating heavily. “I need another beer,” Ivar thought. He left the dance floor and found a bar selling bottles. He preferred bottles when in crowded places. Now he felt like taking a rest from the hot dance and found a viewpoint in the shadows next to the stairs. He sensed after a while that someone was very close behind him. He could feel breathing on his neck, but he did not turn around. Moments later a hand started to caress his back underneath the sweaty t-shirt. He felt another hand too, a slightly colder hand, which followed his front from the pubic bone up to his erect nipples. Ivar was growing a heavy hard-on. He did not pull away, but he did not act positive either. Now he felt hot lips that very carefully touched his neck. He was about to turn to the ones behind when some of the girls were back and dragged him onto the dance floor again. Two of them helped him to strip off his t-shirt and he did not protest. The young lads were around too, and when the music slowed down to some soft melodies the hot lads met in something like tight common hugs. Ivar knew he was bulging and felt hands touching him. He had to relax and soon found his bottle beside the bar. Without any plan he moved back into the shadows. At once a man was behind him and folded both arms around him. “You are the king out there!” a man whispered. “A horny king!” Another man groped Ivar’s erection. Ivar spread his legs. The first man put a hand down into his jeans and since Ivar just wore a g-string the man easily found his boy-cunt and entered with one finger. “Not here, guys, not here!” Ivar whispered, super horny and desperate. He saw that some of the youngsters in front were watching the show in the shadows. “Come on, love! We have a place just around the corner.” Ivar saw the face of a black-haired guy with a goatee. Beside him stood another dark-haired guy, much younger. He handed Ivar his t-shirt. “I picked it in the bar.” He smiled a white smile and found Ivar’s upper arm and led him out of the room. Ivar was a bit worried when they hurried down the street and crossed a small park. Then he saw the canal and he saw the canal boats. The two men helped Ivar on-board and down inside a red and green decorated boat. “I’m Cees,” one man said as he hugged Ivar. “He’s my baby brother!” He pointed at the younger man. “Ard,” the other one said, and looked a bit shy in the dim light. “We’ve already had the foreplay, haven’t we?” Cees was about to strip and Ivar did the same. It was warm down in the cabin; comfortable after the cool street. Ivar was still sweating from the dancing though and needed help to get rid of his jeans and underwear. Cees was naked in seconds. He was a heavy man, a bit bulky dikmen escort and covered with dark fur, and he had a huge uncut cock. The cockhead was shining in the light from the petrol lamp. Ivar felt Ard move behind him. The youngster was still dressed. “Get off your rags, Bro! Show off your pride! Help him, man!” Cees, probably 25 or something was wanking. The brother, Ard, hurried now and stripped off his t-shirt and baggy blue-jeans. Cees, hairy from top to bottom; Ard totally smooth and slim. Not a hair on that body. His pride, as Cees had called his dick, was a fine teenage cock, thin and long, with Ivar’s sort of foreskin. “I’ll fuck you, honey! Okay?” Cees asked with his cock playing in Ivar’s arse crack. “Go on! I’m wet, but you have some grease on the boat, haven’t you?” Ivar grinned. “Better than grease, baby-lotion here. Bro has a sore ass you see.” Cees filled Ivar with lotion from behind and made him bend down like a dog. The horny man did not hesitate, but was inside him in seconds. Ivar opened his boy-cunt and felt happy being stuffed by the huge Dutch man. A heavy wanking youngster just watched his brother. “Give him your prick, baby! He’ll suck you, I’m sure? You’re a motherfucker, aren’t you?” Cees laughed and spanked Ivar’s round butt. “Damn motherfucker with a hot pussy!” With a lot of noise, he gave Ivar a very hard ride. He found the love knot inside and he rotated. Ivar gasped and took care of the younger beauty. “Try to fuck him, Bro. Fill him!” Cees shouted and pounded Ivar with great force. The brothers had been too exited from the very beginning and none of them had any thought but pleasing themselves. Ivar added some action by using his arse muscles. Cees shouted and called him a whore and a slut when he squeezed his cock. Instead of bringing himself to climax Ivar made Cees shoot. He spunked off inside Ivar with a force that resulted in rolling movements in the boat. “Eat him, Bro! And fuck the wet pussy! Hurry up!” Cees called his brother who withdrew from Ivar’s mouth and caught the white spunk that was dripping from Ivar’s backdoor. That part was doing Ivar good too. For the first time in the boat he moaned and wriggled the butt. “Put your dick inside now, Bro. Show me your skill, better than your old mistress, eh?” Cees helped his brother to get in position. Ivar hardly felt the thin cock inside, but the rabbit started his run and even though he was young, he filled Ivar with heavy cum just as his brother had done. “Wish I could piss inside him!” Ard grinned. Cees answered by a hard slap to his ear. “Piss in here and I’ll cut your cock off!” Cees shouted. Ivar was angry, and he was frustrated. He was damn horny and the lads gave him nothing. The Viking woke up, forced the two down on their knees in front by pulling their hair. “Suck me, idiots! And keep your teeth away or I let you feel my fist for real!” Ivar presented his cock, dripping with pre-cum. Now the brothers did a good job. Cees took the cock to his throat bottom, and Ard sucked the cock like a girl’s teat. Ivar was close to climax. “Open your mouths both of you and take the load. Be ready, or I will be the one that pisses you down!” Ivar shouted. He gave his cock some jerks, before he started to spread a huge amount of boy-spit. Both got their share, and both of them licked and smiled. Still on his knees, Cees looked up at Ivar with his head and hair full of jizz. “A good show, love. Really good. We like it dirty you see, very dirty.” Then he turned to Ard. “You look like the slut you are, Bro! Wish the old lady could see you!” He slapped his brother’s cum-wet face. “Find a dram for the lad! You drink genever or maybe you would like some pot?” Cees was still on his knees, drenched and dripping. “Thank you for hospitality, guys. I better find my hotel now!” Ivar gave the two a thumbs up, found his sweaty clothes, and jumped from the boat. He was after all very satisfied. He had been dancing all night, and he had visited the Amsterdam canals. Two crosses for his Spartacus Guide. Ivar looked like a wet slut when he entered the hotel shirtless and smelling dirty. The young man in the reception looked at him and smiled, “I see you found the disco, buddy!” “I sure did! Thanks to your card, I was welcomed without problems.” Ivar found a sweaty banknote in his sock and handed it to the young man. “I need my key now!” “Your friend collected the key a couple of hours ago,” the boy said. “My friend?” Ivar did not understand. “The Spanish-looking guy that arrived with you this morning,” he explained. “Okay.” Ivar thought. Archie and Jean were supposed to be out of town on business, and they were to meet him for lunch tomorrow. Ivar took the lift and found his room. “Do not disturb!” A sign was hanging on the door. Ivar hammered it. Jean, wearing only in cock-cage, opened the door. He had been asleep in Ivar’s bed. Ivar went inside and saw that the door between his room and the suite next door was open. On the king-size bed a naked Archie was lying with his legs spread. Beside him, working his cock and his upper body, were two Asian youngsters. “So this is the special job for you two!” Ivar stared at Jean who stood beside him. “Sex with kids, eh?” “No, no Ivar. They are not kids. They are Asian call-boys, at least eighteen but they look younger. Very small-cocked. Very professional. Archie always uses their company for play! There’s a lot of Asians in Amsterdam.” “You fucked them too, Jean?” Ivar asked as he locked the door. “You think I look like a fucker?” He cupped his caged cock. “I’ve been waiting for you, love. Archie said you had the key?” “Let’s go to the bathroom, amigo. I’ll unlock you and then you may piss me down. And after that I will fuck you until you beg for mercy!” Ivar’s voice was very commanding. Ivar stripped off his jeans. Beside socks, that was his only piece of clothing. The t-shirt had been left in the reception and the g-string was probably on the canal-boat. Ivar’s erection was like a blood-red pepper. He was in charge now, and he wanted to take care of his own needs and give Archie’s secretary a hot and dirty night. *** The lunch was joyful, but Ivar wasn’t quite happy with the situation. Archie played with him when he felt like it, but he knew now that the man had more pleasures than playing with a backpack traveller from Norway. Both the heavy whipping business and the use of call boys was far from Ivar’s choice. Beside that, he felt sorry for Jean. But Ivar knew he was the guest, well paid for. He was not to complain. “I want to return to Scotland,” he thought. “And I think I will go home soon!” The hall boy entered the dining room. He whispered a message to Archie. “Sorry guys. I have to take a phone call!” Archie left. “Normally I take the phone calls so this must be urgent.” Jean moved from side to side. Ivar smiled. “Sore ass today, amigo?” Ivar grinned. “No sir, but the cage is killing my balls,” he retorted. Archie was back. “Sorry, gentlemen. We have to change our plans. Vienna is postponed, and we go directly to West Berlin. Sorry for messing you around, Ivar. I know you have made plans with your Vienna guide. But Berlin is hot as well!” He grinned. “You will book flights for tomorrow Jean, and a hotel. I want it like here! You’re okay with a door between us, son?” Archie put a hand on Ivar’s. The Norwegian lad looked down and blushed. To be continued