'lo all, I'm posting a story from each of my collections offered on my website (www.macmillanbooks.com). Schwüle Weekend is from Bits & Pieces II. Consider these stories as my Xmas gift to those of you who like my writing. Other stories are Enki, dedicated to Ky in historical, Curiosity Gets The Cat also in college, Kid Willie in incest, Tovarisch in adult/youth, and The Foreign Exchange Student And The Funeral Home in high school. Enjoy. And please browse my site.

Dave MacMillan

"Want to go up to the cabin with us this weekend, Dieter?"

I glanced across at my roommate of two months. He still sat at his desk, leaned over his textbook. He was not looking at me.

"Who is going, Alan?" I asked, nearly drowning in the wash of suspicion sweeping over me. It was nearly Halloween - a time for tricks and treats. I had learned that Americans were enthusiasts for these tricks. Alan especially. There were far too many times I'd found myself the brunt of his and friends' jokes.

"Barry and Jordon - and me." An image of Alan's two friends immediately formed in my mind. Barry the red-head and Jordan whose hair was the color of the sand on an Adriatic beach. They both had bodies nearly as perfect as Alan's. I blushed but the image would not vanish.

Alan sat back in his chair, sighed, and slowly turned to face me. "Are all Germans like you, Dieter?" he asked, a puzzled look in his eyes.

"Like me?" I shook my head. "No, many are red-haired or like Jordan - what you called sandy-haired - few are this blond. And few run five miles a day, Alan. Too many of us have become lazy."

"Bullshit!" he growled and pushed himself out of his chair. "Dieter, why don't you ever lighten up?" he demanded and took a step towards me.

"Lighten up?" Did he want me to become lighter, to levitate? Only magicians did that - with tricks. That was not logical.

"Loosen up. Let your hair down. Be one of the boys - just once, will you? Relax, Dieter."

"I thought I was," I stammered, watching his hand at his side where his fingers were making a fist and then extending straight out before they again became a fist. I wonder if he wanted to hit me. Why? I had been so careful. Could he possibly know how much he excited me?

Black curly hair, tall, a slim yet athletic body that was so smooth I imagined it to be tanned alabaster. Yes, the Ami excited me as no other boy had in my nineteen years, as did his friends. I had come, in two short months, to imagine doing with him what only Schwülen do. I was not Schwüle, I was not gay - I did not think. Yet, Alan and his two friends were the most beautiful boys I had ever seen. With them I could easily become Schwüle.

"You know, my history prof says that the Germans don't have a sense of humor, that's why you guys went for Hitler rather than laughing him right out of the country."

I coughed. Discretely. My parents and grandparents had spent most of their lives trying to live down the twelve years of German fascism that gave the world its second war this century. Hitler remained an uncomfortable subject to Germans, even fifty-five years after his death. We wanted to think we were just like the Englander and Amerikaner. Germans were not murderers - that was the Nazis, like the American Klan.

"We'd like you to come with us, Dieter, but you've got to promise to let your hair down if you do. You've got to promise to go with the flow. We want to know the real Dieter Haas."

"Where is this cabin, Alan?"

He grinned. He knew he had me. Just as he always did. I did not understand how he did so, but he could always manipulate me. "It's up where Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina come together. You'll love it."

"In the mountains?" I yelped. "Alan, I am a Berliner. I know nothing about mountains."

"What about those Alps where everybody yodels from the mountaintops?"

"Those are in Bavaria. In Austria - more than fifteen hundred kilometers from my home."

"We're going to fish. Cook out. Swim. Drink. We're going to be just us boys, doing boy things. It's a boys' weekend, Dieter."

To help you understand me: the age of sexual consent in Germany is fourteen. We have legal bordellos with health inspections once a week and condoms a necessity. I - my people - are not hung up about sex. We are truly liberated.

Germany is a charter signatory to the European Human Rights Convention. We value our freedom. We do not permit authoritarians on our airways. We have even changed our basic immigration laws so that Turks and others can now be German. German society is a tolerant society.

The police do not stop you from holding hands with another boy. Public sex is, however, forbidden, even at the nude beaches in Berlin.

Berlin is the most sexually open city in the world. I am from Berlin. The Schwülen host the most avant-garde theater in the world and street parties that include nudity. I have gone to many gay happenings in Berlin; yet, I have never thought of myself as Schwüle. Not in nineteen years. Not in more than a dozen times with women. Not until I saw Alan Miles moving into my dorm room at Emory University in Atlanta, Georgia.

Now, I masturbate to images of Alan, of me fellating him. Of him behind me, sodomizing me between my buttocks with me masturbating myself. I have seen his sausage enough times, snaking under his briefs towards his hip; I can imagine it well. I am frightened of Alan, even as I cannot get enough of him.

"I will go with you," I told him and returned to trying to understand the American civil war. I succeeded in not imagining his cock as I studied the move of the army of Robert E. Lee into Gettysburg.

* * *

I had imagined something rustic. Something like the one-room cabins at the shore that professional Finnish families use to get back to nature in the summer . Alan's cabin was a house with electricity, running water, indoor toilets, and heat. There was nothing primitive about it. I didn't know if I was pleased or disappointed. I wondered if I would finally explore my strange, even morbid, curiosity about Alan and his friends, and the thought frightened me.

We drank beer and sat outside under the night sky and the full moon. We talked of school and even memories of growing up as the night grew colder around us. Alan and Jordan went inside, retreating from the night's chill. I remained under the stars, enthralled by the shadows of the mountains around us. Barry Anders stayed with me and I was happy to have his company.

"I gotta take a major piss," he announced through my buzz and stood up. I continued to sit beside the red-head and watched as he fumbled with his zipper and then struggled with the slit in his underpants to claim his dick.

"Fuck it!" Barry growled and opened his waist button. A moment later, he had pushed his underpants beneath his balls with one hand while possessing his dick with the other. He pointed himself towards the dark slope below us and began to piss. I watched and thought that he had such a large cock. Virile. I wondered what it would taste like. I wondered if Barry and the others would respect me if I gave myself to these strange interests that had plagued me most of these past two months. If I would respect myself afterwards.

"You all right, Dieter?" Barry asked, pulling my thoughts back to our side of a Georgia mountain in late October.

His zipper was still open, his underpants still rode the underside of his balls, and his dick was hard. It was also only centimeters from my lips. My face burned with my embarrassment. His hand moved to grasp my shoulder.

"We have a bet on between us, Dieter," Barry said quietly. I was staring at his dick and my mouth was dry.

"Yes?" I managed.

"Yeah. Which one of us three can get to you first." He was watching me when I looked up.

"Get to me?" I mumbled, thinking I understood him and hoping I didn't. I did not want any one of the three of them to think I was Schwüle. I did not want to think I was, either.

"Yeah. The three of us have something of a sex club, Dieter - even back in high school. Jordan and I have pretty well paired off; but Alan doesn't have anybody. Not anyone we could trust; someone who's mature. Like you." He smiled. "You want it, don't you?"

I stared at his cock, unable to pull my gaze from it. It looked at least twenty centimeters long and thick. His hand on my shoulder moved me imperceptibly closer to it. It touched my chin and I jerked.

"Nein!" I moaned. I tried to explain that I was not that way but realized I was speaking in German. I tried again in English. The mushroom head of his cock caressed my jaw as I spoke.

"Suck it, Dieter. I want you to. I need you to."

I stared at his pubis, dark red even in the moonlight. He swiveled his hips until the head of his cock touched my lips. "It is too big," I groaned through clenched teeth.

"So, let just the head in and lick it for us."

I shook my head. His hips moved forward until his cock pressed against my teeth. "Come on, man. You want it and I want it." His hand moved from my shoulder to the back of my neck. My lips pressed harder against his knob, its tip was hard against my teeth.

I looked up at his face again. "Come on, Dieter. Do it," he said and smiled again. I wanted Alan's dick, but I also wanted Barry's - and Jordan's. I shut my eyes, sighed, and opened my mouth.

Centimeter after centimeter of cockhead entered, stretching open my jaws and filling my mouth completely. Then came the slightly slimmer shaft of Barry's large dick. I felt his head press against the entrance to my throat as his other hand found the back of my head. Together, his hands pulled me further onto him, spreading my throat. I gagged. My eyes watered.

Barry loosened his hold on my head and I pulled off five centimeters of him. "Sorry," he mumbled, his fingers coming up to my cheek to caress it. "I got carried away there. We'll take it slow, okay?"

I began to wash around his knob with my tongue, my lips tight against his shaft. I reached out and grasped his buttocks and slowly pulled him towards me. I bobbed on his cock as he stood in front of me. There were no more inhibitions left to stop me; I wanted his cock. And it was now mine - as I hoped those of the other two would be.

His hands slid beneath my sweater at the neck and explored my shoulders through my shirt. "I wanted you the first time I saw you," Barry said conversationally from above me. "Your lips, your dick, your ass. All three of us did. Alan couldn't wait to tell us about you; he practically dragged us over to your room so we could drool too."

Barry continued his monologue, but I wasn't listening and his voice was only a buzz in my mind. I wanted to experience this act of fellatio I was performing. I did not want to hear his past history or how much he and the others wanted me. I was doing something I had never imagined doing before I came to America. This was my first time doing schwuelisch things. I wanted to remember all of it.

I became aware that my nose was buried in his pubic thicket. I had his cock buried in my throat. "Hum, Dieter. You have no idea of how good that'll feel," he told me as I sucked his scent into my lungs through my nose. I hummed and he twitched, rising up on his toes. "Yeah!" he mewled.

He again began to fuck my face. Slowly at first but becoming faster, more insistent. I hummed. My fingers slipped under his flannel shirt and felt his hot skin. His tight, washboard belly, his hair in just the middle of his chest, his smooth back.

My fingers slipped beneath his underpants and gripped his buttocks. "That's Jordan's, Dieter," he growled, reaching down and taking my wrists. "Not even Alan gets that any more." He placed them again on his belly. "I'm close. You're going to get your first spunking real soon." His hands returned to the back of my head, guiding me as I bobbed on his cock.

Spunking? I did not know the word. I tried to associate it as he continued to fuck my mouth. I had already learned how to suck a cock. It no longer required conscious attention.

I realized suddenly that his dick had grown thicker as he pounded my face. Now, he shoved himself into my throat and I was held against his pubis. Barry seemed to have become rigid before me. His hips pulled back, his cock again retreating from my throat. I tasted something salty, sour, and vicuous.

"I love to cum in a guy's mouth," he groaned distantly as a large dollop of the vicuous liquid erupted from the head of his cock. "Swallow it, Dieter. Swallow my cum."

I swallowed. Each load of his cum. I tasted it, my tongue worked it into the mushroom head of his cock, and I swallowed. There was so much of it.

"What is spunking?" I asked after he was through and had pulled away from me. My gaze stayed on his glistening cock even as it lost part of its erection. Its taste still on my tongue, haunting me.

"Cuming - shooting your jizz," he told me and arranged his underpants before zipping up his trousers.

* * *

I followed Barry to the cabin. I held back as he opened the door and stepped inside. I did not know what to expect.

I knew what he had told me about our companions. But I reminded myself that was during the sex act itself. Men lied often at that point; I knew I had.

Would Alan and Jordan accept me, once they learned that I had done a Schwüle thing? Would Barry, even though it was his dick I had sucked? This was America with preachers belching hatred from the television every day. I entered the cabin's lounge slowly, finding the location of each man as I did so - ready to run if I had to.

Alan and Jordan were giving Barry high fives before the fire. My heart sank; he had already told them. I mentally counted the money I had in my wallet and knew it was not enough to take a bus to Atlanta.

"You finally let your hair down," Alan said when he saw me. I watched as he broke away from the others and started towards me. He was smiling. I smiled back - tentatively. Still unsure.

"Did you like it?" he asked as his arm went around my shoulders.

I stiffened but instantly relaxed. "Yes. I never thought ... I have wanted you since I first saw you-"

Alan chuckled. "Just as I've wanted you, Dieter." He pulled me into the center of the room with the others, his arm still thrown across my shoulders. They were smiling at me.

"Here's the deal," Jordan said. "Barry and I are off-limits except for blow jobs. We've worked it out with Alan-"

"What is the meaning of that?" I asked.

"They're lovers," Alan explained. "They've included me because we're good friends. They're willing to include you too - but only for the oral stuff."

"So, Barry and Jordan will be happy to let us suck them-?"

"And they'll suck us too. It's also all right to watch them fuck when they get into it - only, we can't join in."

"That leaves you and me," I mumbled, unsure of the situation.

The smile bled from Alan's face. "You don't want me?"

I turned to face him. I felt all three pairs of eyes on me, watching me. Waiting for me. It was time for more than four horny youths to have sex together. It was time for truth. I understood the moment without thinking about it.

"I had never thought of having sex with another man," I told them, "not until I was in America and saw Alan the first time. After I met the two of you, I found you in my fantasies too - but Alan was first there and his role is always the largest. I wanted Barry's and Jordan's friendship, the thought of sex with them is just an extra pleasure-" I looked down at my hands, unable to meet Alan's gaze. "But I have wanted Alan from the first moment I saw him - not just as a friend with whom I could play sex games. But-" I forced myself to look into his face then. "As more. It has taken me until now to understand this - and to accept it."

Alan's face swam towards mine and I realized my vision of him had beome blurred. His fingers wiped tears from my eyes. "We're going to do just fine together, Dieter," he said just before his lips touched mine.

* * *

Barry and Jordan were gone to their room; Alan and I sat before the fire. He held me to him and my face pressed against his smooth, exposed chest. I was happier than I had ever been with a girl with whom I had just had sex. I felt complete - and safe. And loved.

Alan and I had not made love yet. But there was no hurry. We both knew we would and that it would be good.

His lips nuzzled my ear. I suckled at his teat. His fingers slipped inside my underpants and gently kneaded my buttocks. Mine worked his zipper down and freed his cock.

"Gehen wir jetzt nach Bette," I mumbled, forgetting to translate I was so relaxed.

"Did you say we ought to go to bed?" Alan asked. I nodded against his chest. "Are you sure, Dieter? We don't have to - I'll understand."

I sat up and fixed him with my gaze. "We don't have to? What? Make love?" I took a quick breath. "Alan, if we do not join now, then when? Until we do, until we give ourselves to each other, what I feel now is only half complete. It can only be half true - and I do not live lies, Liebchen. Not with myself."

We undressed before the fire, each of us exposing himself completely for the first time to his lover. Each of us looking and seeing our lover naked for the first time. Alan pulled me to him and kissed me, our cocks caught between our bellies and duelling each other. His hands reclaiming my buttocks, grinding me against him.

I wanted him. I had no more doubts of that; my bout with Barry had left me clear of those. I wanted to give him my virginities and feel his possession of me. I knew with total certainty that I had come to love Alan Miles in the two months I had known him.

He took my hand and led me to his bedroom, our bedroom now. I crossed to the bed as he closed the door behind us. He came to me then, and I watched him do so with a smile that I knew covered my face.

How I wanted him. To feel his touch. To join with him. To feel our union.

He knelt before me, his fingers reaching out to caress my bollocks. My erect manhood touched his face, its skin pulled all the way off its knob. "I've wanted to touch you since the very first time I saw you in the dorm, Dieter," he breathed.

"I too," I told him, my fingers stroking his hair. "But I did not understand then. I was frightened by the feelings I had-"

His fingers traced my ballsac up to my shaft and began to move out along it, encircling it. My foreskin moved to cover my helmet, and I felt weak under his manipulation.

"You're uncut," he mumbled against my shaft as his fingers reached my skin-covered knob. "This is going to be interesting." He looked up at me and I knew he was smiling. "You're my first natural man, Dieter." With that, he leaned back until my 17 centimeters were aimed at his lips.

He nibbled at the skin bunched at the tip, his lips riding higher, halfway up the glans. Gently, he milked my cock as if it were a teat, his tongue worrying its way the pucker of skin to lave the very tip of my manhood. I shivered.

He swallowed me then. All of me, until his nose was buried in my pubis - both of his hands finding my buttocks and pulling me into him. I gasped.

His fingers began to explore the crevice between my asscheeks. His index finger quickly found my rear entrance and began to massage the puckered, wrinkled skin there. I moaned at the new sensations his finger brought me. At what his mouth was doing to my cock. My ballsac tightened and my balls rose to ride the shaft of my manhood.

Alan's finger eased through my entrance and began to explore what I knew at that moment would always be my lovechute. "Gott!" I cried as that finger found my prostate. I erupted.

I felt Alan's throat milking my cockhead, volley after volley of my essence crashing out of my balls into his gullet. A second finger joined the first to work my hole. I collapsed on the bed, my legs spread to permit him between them, his mouth still on my 17 centimeters and his two fingers deep in my hole. I had never experienced an orgasm as powerful as the one he gave me.

"I want you to-" I look down my chest at him looking up at me, all of my cock still in his mouth. I want you to make love to me, Alan." I smiled. "Fichst mir, bitte," I told him and wiggled my hips on his fingers.

Alan chuckled. "Does that mean what I think it does?" he asked and nuzzled my balls. I jerked.

"Yes," I groaned. "Please, Alan. Do it. Make me complete," I told him. "Make me yours."

"This is a part of you I've never seen," he mused. "Have you done it before?" I shook my head and concentrated on what the pleasure his fingers were generating in me. I remained erect, my skin pulled completely off the knob of my cock. He chuckled. "Well, I guess you've loosened up nicely, Dieter."

His fingers left me and I felt suddenly empty. I watched as he pulled out the drawer of the bedside cabinet and took out a foil packet. Smiling, he held it up for me to see. "Protection always, Dieter," he explained. "Put it on me." He climbed onto the bed, straddling my chest and bringing his dick close to my hands.

I tore open the packet and flattened the condom against his knob. "That tickles," he giggled as I rolled it down his shaft.

"If that tickles what will being inside me do to you?" I asked.

He grinned down at me and said: "Don't know, but let's find out." He climbed back off the bed and stood before me. "Get all the way up on the bed, Dieter. If you're going to lose your cherry, you might as well be comfortable when it happens." He reached back to the cabinet and picked up a tube of something.

I pushed myself to the center of the bed and watched as he followed, crawling across the sheet towards me on his knees. My attention concentrated on his erect, sheathed cock pointing the way to me.

It was bigger than mine, at least Barry's 20 centimeters and perhaps more. I thought it was wider too. I wondered suddenly how we were going to get it inside me comfortably. Even as I doubted, however, I knew I wanted Alan to possess me, to claim me. To make me his.

Reaching me, he raised my feet and placed them on his shoulders. I felt the coolness of the October night caress my buttocks as they rose from the mattress. He bent over me and my feet moved down his back. His lips found mine and our tongues were immediately dueling for supremacy. His two fingers found my entrance and worked their way into me.

I gasped when they again found my prostate. I ground my hips against his hand in pleasure, trying to get more of him into me. He worked a third finger in with the others. I no longer wondered how he would get his manhood inside me; I just wanted it there plowing me with its length.

"Do it!" I commanded as I broke away from our kiss. Never had I known the pleasure coursing through my body like a flooding river. I was beyond thought. I only wanted more pleasure and, then, even more.

He nibbled at my teats and I felt movement beneath me. Moments later, his fingers left me and I felt uncomfortably empty. He pressed a dollop of something cool and greasy against my entrance and shifted his body between my legs. His lips returned to mine and, as we began to kiss, I felt something large press against my hole.

I grabbed his buttocks and pulled him to me. The pressure increased until it was almost painful. My sphincter surrendered then and his knob pushed into me. I felt each centimeter of his knob, of his shaft, sliding into my belly. It felt strange, even uncomfortable, but not painful.

His cockhead reached my prostate and I bucked as it pressed against my gland. I grounded my hips against him as each new centimeter continued to massage me. My own dick erected proudly and rode our bellies. I was washed away on the waves of pleasure spreading through me.

"Feel good?" Alan asked from above me. In wonder, I realized he again sat on his haunches, my ankles crossed behind his neck and the edge of his pubis scratched at my ballsac.

I smiled up at him and ground my buttocks against him. "Make love to me," I told him.

He began slowly to pull from me and I felt each centimeter. My hands went to his buttocks to stop him before he left me completely. As slowly, his 20 centimeters returned to fill me. He developed a steady, slow rhythm that allowed me to learn to clutch at him with my anal muscles as he pulled from me and to raise my buttocks to greet him upon his return. I watched him as he fucked me, my own cock bouncing across my belly with each movement.

I watched Alan Miles, my lover. I watched him make love to me.

My hands slid up his back to pull him down to kiss me as I raised my head to meet his. His cock continued to move in me, possessing me, as we kissed.

We groaned as each new pleasure crashed over us. We humped and clenched and held each other. The bed creaked beneath us and we did not care that it announced our lovemaking to anyone listening.

I rode the waves of pleasure growing in my lovechute, revelling at the knotting in my balls as they flattened against the shaft of my cock and made ready to erupt. I held Alan tighter and gave the last of myself to him.

I again became aware. Alan's cock still plunged freely into me, but harder, faster now. His lips were still on mine, his tongue still dueled mine. The bed groaned and squeaked louder than before. My still erect manhood bounced across my belly, but now it plopped in puddles of my sperm. "Cum in me," I groaned around his tongue and into his lips.

Again, I rode the pleasure coursing through my body, pulling away from him even I drew closer to him - as we ground against each other. I knew with certainty I could never do without dick in me again; but I wanted it to be love and not just sex. I wanted it to be Alan's cock.

He grunted and pushed away from me. I realized he was pounding my lovechute. His breathing was labored. He shoved his whole manhood into me. I felt his cock thicken as it held deep within me. He was cumming. I was his.

"Somebody got fucked," Barry said as I walked into the kitchen the next morning. I was as naked as he was, as they were - for I saw Jordan then. Barry was sitting on his lap.

"We made love," I answered as I headed towards the coffee pot. "And you?"

"We're still doing it," Jordan grunted. I looked towards them then. Barry was raising and lowering his buttocks. His face was slack, his cock bouncing from thigh to thigh.

"Enjoy," I told them and poured two cups of coffee. I started back to our bedroom, wondering if Alan would be as good in the morning as he was at night.