Date: Thu, 12 Mar 2020 13:42:25 +0000
From: Bill Jonners <colin4men@gmail.com>
Subject: Europe with Spartacus 20

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 colin4men@gmail.com will be answered.

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Europe with Spartacus

Chapter 20
London � York (1975)


"Merry Christmas, sir!" Ivar was making a long distance call to
Scotland. The lady at the reception had an eye on him.

"Merry Christmas to you too, my bonnie lad. How is London tonight?" Ivar
blushed when he heard Archie's voice. His groin contracted remembering
Archie's hot love-making with him the other day.

"London is cold and windy, but I'm indoors in my hotel. Just sent my
brother back to his ship," Ivar answered.

"So you miss me, kid? All alone, and at Christmas, eh?" Archie's voice was
warm. Ivar swallowed, and looked at the old lady seemed to follow the
conversation.

"Yes, I miss you sir, very much. You will have time to meet me? I leave
London the day after tomorrow." Ivar tried to sound business-like, but he
was very excited.

"I leave for Brussels tomorrow, bonnie lad, but I finish my job there the
day after New Year. I would very much like to see you in Scotland. Please
meet me in Glasgow on the third of January, if it fits in with your
plans. Just call my secretary the day before." A stop sound was heard from
the phone. The lady coughed. Three minutes was gone.

"I will call you sir, thank you! Love to�see you again�and..." The
connection was terminated.

"Damn!" Ivar swore, and hoped the lady hadn't heard him.

"Two pounds!" Her tone indicated that she was not in the Christmas mode.

Back in his room Ivar felt a bit lonely, and the room was rather cold. He
stripped to full nudity and started to fill the bathtub. It was a great
pleasure to let his body slide into the hot water. He closed his eyes.

Some twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door. Ivar managed to
open the bathroom door before he shouted a French "Entr�!" The hall-boy,
a sweet youngster, entered the room with a trolley containing a bottle in a
Champagne cooler, glasses and various snacks. He blushed when he saw Ivar
in the tub.

"I bring you a Christmas present, sir." The hall-boy, probably the same age
as Ivar, was very formal in addressing the young guest.

"Christmas present? From whom, my friend?" Ivar was very confused. Who on
earth had sent him champagne?

"It's come through a telephone service, sir. There's a card here!" He
lifted a white envelope. Again he tried not to stare. Ivar left the bathtub
and just hung a towel in front of his wet body.

"Merry Christmas, young Viking. Love, Archie," Ivar read. "Not bad, is it!"
He looked at the blushing hall-boy.

"Anything you want, sir?" The boy was about to leave.

"Please bring me a new towel, gar�on!" Ivar wasn't sure why he used
French and he didn't know why he wanted the hall-boy to stay. The boy went
outside, but was back seconds later with a fresh towel. Ivar threw the used
one into the bathroom.

"Please dry my back, mon ami." He turned around and did not try to cover up
his half-hard pride.

"When do you finish work today? I can't drink champagne alone, can I?" He
turned to face the young hall-boy.

"I am not on duty, sir. I just did an extra job for madam!" He gave Ivar a
broad smile.

It was midnight when the lad straightened his uniform and left the room
with an empty bottle. As a real gentleman, Ivar tipped him when he left.

***


Boxing Day had brought Ivar back to Carnaby Street, but his backpack
situation didn't allow him any extravagance. He had checked out from the
hotel, and was back in the YMCA for one night. The hostel was filled with
the Norwegian choir, but Ivar had found a free bed. Now he was in a bus
going down Regent Street, heading for the cinema. He had invited Paul, the
choirboy from Trondheim, to a matin�e at the Odeon.

"When do you have to be back? Any plans for tonight?" Ivar looked into a
pair of blue eyes. The sixteen year old lad was very happy for the movie
invitation from a more senior youngster.

"All free today. Football for most of the others! Arsenal against
Tottenham." The lad smiled. "Happy for your company though!" The boy's
lower leg touched Ivar's. Ivar did not pull away.

"I've heard that the Odeon in Leicester Square is the biggest in the
world!" The boy was very excited.

"800 seats; the biggest in England anyway," Ivar answered and then placed
an open hand on Paul's thigh.

For a couple of hours the two lads were into the James Bond world. With
great excitement they followed the fast cars and the use of guns. The James
Bond girls just looked silly in Ivar's eyes. He was more than happy to play
with young Paul's thighs and bulge, but the situation was not fit for
closer intimacy between the two.

The square outside was like a huge theatre. Dancers, street musicians and
salesmen tried to get the public's attention. Paul found Ivar's hand. The
lad was afraid to get lost in the crowd. Without any plan, they headed
towards the Soho area.

"You want to visit a pub? We could have a pop or something." Ivar asked.

"You think they will let me in?" Paul squeezed Ivar's hand.

"It's early days. I don't think there will be a problem as long as you
don't buy alcohol. And I know a pub where I've been a couple of
times. Maybe the security guard will recognise me?" Ivar was the adult one,
but not certain about the situation. The security guy was not an easy
one. He asked for papers to verify age, and he looked at the boys closely.

"It's okay, officer! The lads are in my company." Ivar felt a hand on his
shoulder, and he saw a man push Paul in front of him inside the opened
door.

"You remember me?" He looked at Ivar, still holding his shoulder.

"Oh yes, sir. I remember you. The guy from Greenwich, the guy with all the
cars!" Ivar was one big smile. He remembered that his brother had called
the man Aron. "You took pictures of my brother the other day, didn't you
sir? A well-trained body, for sure!"

The man looked down, then he found Paul's eyes. "You drink beer, young
man...or a coke perhaps? And you need a beer, Viking?" Aron changed the
topic and found a free spot in the crowded room.

"You know him, Ivar?" Paul seemed to be a bit uncomfortable.

"No, I don't but my brother said he was a nice guy. He's into men though!"
Ivar found Paul's shoulder and hugged him. "You mind?" Ivar let his fingers
follow the choir boy's spine all the way down to two round teen buttocks.

"Could we...?" Paul looked at Ivar with wet eyes. The lad was really
horny. He struggled with something inside his jeans. Aron was back with
beers and a coke.

One hour passed, with some more drinks, and people coming and going. "I
need to pee!" Paul whispered close to Ivar.

"Hold our seats, Viking. I'll show the choirboy the gents!" He took Paul's
arm before Ivar could react.

"He looked at my dick while I pissed!" Paul whispered to Ivar when Aron
went for another beer. "And I could see his big one. A killer!"

"Are you okay with that?" Ivar cupped one of Paul's buttocks. "You are
tenting, honey. You want a wank? Or maybe you are into sucking. Are you?"
Paul blushed. Aron was back.

"Have you ever been downstairs, Ivar? Your brother hadn't, he said." The
man lifted his glass and took a long drink.

"What's there?" Ivar asked. He had seen the door beside the toilet
entrance, and he had seen some men coming and going.

"Quite an interesting basement from the last century, sort of �
museum. I'll show you." Aron coughed and pushed young Paul in front
him. Old stone stairs met them, and the very distinct smell of basement.

"I'd love Aron to fuck me," Ivar thought. He was longing for a real
man-cock up his boy-cunt. The hall-boy, and now the choirboy, were fun
company. He loved the teasing and he loved to see the teenagers'
excitement, but they didn't give him the real pleasure he had found in
France.

"I wonder if Ragnar told me the truth?" Ivar thought. He looked at the man
in his fifties who showed a real man's bulge in the tight black trousers.

"It's like a small labyrinth down here. You chose where to start. You will
meet horny guys in there, but remember, your own choice always. You decide
what you want to do. Just push hands away if you feel uncomfortable!" Aron
placed his glass of beer on a small bar.

"But isn't Paul a bit...?" Ivar felt responsible. He had brought the young
teen to the pub.

"He goes with me!" Aron said. "We'll meet in the centre. See you,
Viking-boy!" Ivar understood he had to start at the opposite sides.

Ivar had been in darkrooms before, both in Denmark and in Paris, but this
was a bit different. In the darkness you met foreign bodies, and above all
foreign hands, which felt free to touch and grope any part of you. To walk
through these corridors with a hard-on was like a non-stop invitation. Ivar
pushed down his jeans in the front just to advertise his tool. The result
was jerking and groping and some men suddenly kneeling trying to suck or
lick. The situation was bringing Ivar close to the edge. Then he felt a
double-size body meeting him from the opposite side. It was Aron with his
arms tight around a wanking youngster.

"Let's move inside, Ivar." Aron had been down here many times before, and
now he found the entrance to a sort of central room in the labyrinth. In
glimpses from lighter-flames Ivar saw that two couples were sucking and
wanking in the room when they arrived. Without asking he pushed Aron
against the wall and zipped him down. With a trained mouth he played with
the man's dripping cock. At the same time, he felt young lips around his
own cock. Paul was a more experienced sucker than Ivar had believed, but
Ivar wanted more, he wanted to be filled by the huge cock he was
sucking. He looked up at the man and whispered, "Please fuck me, sir!
Please fill me up, and let me cum."

"You're a better sucker than your brother, Ivar, and he didn't even let me
touch his arse!" Aron helped Ivar to strip off his jeans and his
underwear. The trained body found a pole by the wall and bent down. He
moaned softly as Aron filled his boy-cunt with greasy fingers and
understood that the man had been well prepared.

"Yes, yes! Fuck me hard, be my master!" Ivar shouted in the tight
room. Then a scream was heard. Ivar had been penetrated without warning. A
huge man-cock filled him to the bottom. At the same time he understood that
Paul had knelt again and found his cock with young lips.

The pain was intense and the standing position was uncomfortable. The jeans
bound Ivar's legs, but he managed to bend over and answer the
penetration. Soon the pain changed to heat.

"Harder sir...harder sir, please sir!" Ivar cried. In the dim light from
some sort of torch Ivar saw that the small room was filled with men; young
and old, wanking, sucking and kissing men.

Ivar had to cum. With his cock inside young Paul's mouth, he erupted. Spurt
after spurt filled the youngster's mouth and dripped down his
t-shirt. Moments after that, Ivar felt that the cock inside him grew like a
steel feather and bottomed him completely. With a roar the car specialist
and dungeon lover exploded inside him. While fucking like a stallion he
filled his Norwegian foal.

Ivar looked down and met two admiring eyes and a face drenched in his own
boy-milk. He bent down and used his own mouth to clean the youngster.

"You cum?" Ivar whispered to the lad who cupped his own tiny cock.

"Let me help him!" Aron lifted Paul and let him find the pole. Then he
pulled the youngster's jeans and partly wet briefs down. Paul had cum in
his pants once or twice already, but Aron sent the lad to heaven through a
combination of rimming, licking and sucking, while Ivar played with his
nipples. With a sore cry the teenager trembled through a long-lasting
orgasm.

The young choirboy had seen his first darkroom, underneath a not too
special pub in the middle of London's famous Soho.

***


Ivar had entered the train to the north quite early. He had validated his
five day railway pass and even reserved a good seat. He found his
travelling companion, The European Spartacus Guide, and opened a new
chapter: York. The young Viking was to visit the former Viking town of
Jorvik, that he had learned about in Scandinavian history. He was curious,
but he was also a bit tired after the hot Christmas celebrations in London.

"Compared to other cities, there isn't much of a gay scene in York.�Do
not let that put you off, as many gay tourists come to the city every year
and experience warm Yorkshire hospitality." Ivar read from the guidebook.

"Good for my sore bottom!" Ivar thought. The time in London had been one
great party.

Ivar turned the page. What to see in York? Of course his priority was the
local museum with the Viking exhibition, but he also wanted to visit the
National Railway Museum, and he had heard about The Ghost Walks. "Two
days," He thought and yawned.

With a heavy backpack Ivar walked from the station into the medieval centre
of York. Luckily for him the conductor had awakened him in time to leave
the train. He was still tired and he was hungry. Without luck he asked for
a room in three different hostels, but all rooms had been occupied for the
holiday season. He would try the youth hostel after lunch, but in a way he
longed for a simple room like he had in Paris.

Ivar passed a small footbridge. The central area was very charming, with
silent ponds and even though it was winter, a nice park. On the right was
an old traditional pub. Some winter-dressed men had their midday beer on
the terrace. They followed Ivar with some interest when he entered the pub
with the huge backpack.

He found a table and was happy to get a rest from the heavy load. Behind
the bar was a youngster his own age and possibly his father. On a
blackboard was the menu, very simple: "Today's pie. Today's soup."

"A pie, please, and a large beer too." Ivar used a hand to comb his damp
hair.

"It's farmer's pie today, and mashed potatoes if you wish!" The youngster
filled a pint.

"Thank you! That's fine. I need a break now. I arrived from London this
morning and I'm looking for a room. Warm for winter, isn't it?" Ivar felt
that the man was open to a chat.

"You Norwegian?" the youngster asked. "Know your flag. Viking, eh? Maybe
you have roots here, you know. Lots of fair-haired guys around. The chicks
will fancy you, you know."

The father-figure brought the food from the kitchen. The smell was
great. "I could do with another beer, please." Ivar handed the lad the
empty glass.

It was a very nice lunch. The pub was filled with guests, mostly local
men. Ivar got many comments, and some questions too. People were
curious. He felt very welcome, even if he had some trouble with the local
accent.

Lunchtime was about to end when the young man sat down beside Ivar. "I've
talked to the old lady. We have a room upstairs. Normally we don't rent it
out like this, but you are welcome if you feel comfortable staying in an
old inn like this."

"I would be more than happy to stay here!" Ivar answered. "Perfect, not far
from the Viking exhibition, is it?"

"Just across the river," the young man said. "Not so much to see
though. The city is planning a new Viking exhibition and information
centre, but just plans so far."

The room was perfect. A double bed, windows overlooking the park, and a
toilet down the stairs. No shower, but the young man pointed out the
direction to a public bath not far away. Ivar had to get along with just
cold water in the sink, but he was very satisfied. "Mum will be happy to
serve you breakfast, I'm sure," Ivar smiled when he heard that his previous
expression `old lady' was changed to `Mum'. He liked this lad with black
curly hair and brown eyes. His eyelashes were like a girl's.

"My name is Robert by the way, but please call me Robby!" The lad gave Ivar
his hand. "Hope you will like York. Tell me if you need some transport. I
have a bike in the garage. Better than a car for getting around here." The
lad's eyes smiled and Ivar felt dizzy when he received the firm handshake.

Alone and settled, he undressed and then dived into the waiting bed. He had
slept for two hours when he heard knocking on the door. Ashamed about being
in bed in the middle of the day Ivar hurried to the door and opened
it. Robby was outside carrying a tray with a teapot and biscuits.

"Mum was mad because we hadn't organised a kettle for you," he said,
placing the tray on an old side table. Ivar, shirtless, just in a tight
sport shorts, felt almost naked in front of the lad, but he didn't seem to
bother at all.

"Thank you, and thank your mother very much! Will be nice to have some
tea. I just planned to take a short nap but I overslept. It was my
intention to look around the centre, and find a map too." Ivar tried to fix
his messy hair.

"I have two hours off before suppertime," Robby said. "I can guide you on a
tour of the city walls if you want. But bring a jacket. There's some rain
coming, I'm afraid!"

"Great. I just need a trip down the hall. Maybe I have to dress first?"
Ivar was in need of the toilet.

"No problem; just me up here. I sleep in the attic!" Robby pointed
upstairs. "How come you are so well tanned?" He touched Ivar's shoulder and
back.

The touch sent electric signals through the testosterone-filled
Norwegian. "I've been working outdoors in France for more than two months,"
Ivar said.

"Is that why you are so�fit?" He touched Ivar's biceps.

"I guess." Ivar tried to act normal even if he knew the devil between his
legs had started to move. "And I swim whenever possible."

"We have a new sports-hall," Robby said. "I'll show it you from the city
wall."

"Please give me twenty minutes!" Ivar groped his stiffening dick and
hurried downstairs to the toilet. He left a grinning youngster behind.

Ivar dressed and went downstairs to meet Robby. He found him on the
pavement hand in hand with a girl.

"I brought Agnes, my girlfriend. She knows this city's history better than
me!" Robby put an arm around her shoulder. "And you heard me talk about
Ivar, the son of a Viking-king!"

Ivar hurried to give the girl a handshake. Surprised, ashamed and a bit
sorry he coughed and straightened up. His body language had been far from
happy. "Nice to meet you, Agnes. That's my grandma's name by the way,
interesting!" Ivar was met by an open smile.

The next two hours were an interesting history lesson for Ivar, but it was
also a lesson of innocent intimacy between a boy and a girl. He witnessed
the silent touching, the side-smiles, the laughter and the light
teasing. When he from behind witnessed Agnes' light arm touching her
boyfriend's neck before the hand very lightly followed the boy's spine and
ended as an innocent cupping of one of his round globes, he had tears in
his eyes. At the same time he had to adjust his growing erection. He had
been day-dreaming of himself in her role.

Robby invited both Ivar and Agnes to have supper with him at the pub, but
very soon he had to help his father behind the bar. Agnes and Ivar were
left to end the meal alone, but Robby smiled and served both desserts and
coffee. Ivar relaxed. He was used to company with girls, and they chatted
about dancing, and pop-music, movies and travelling. But all the time he
watched the beauty behind the bar, and followed the hot, slim body that
moved around between the customers.

There was light rain outside when Ivar said goodbye. He even hugged the
girl very decently before he thanked the working Robby with a wave before
he walked the up the stairs. Minutes later he left the house through the
back door dressed in baggy training gear. In good speed he crossed the
street and found his way through the park.

The lack of a shower made him clean up in cold water and take a hard
towelling. But the trip to the park and the cold water had not helped. Ivar
was as horny as ever. Naked he dived onto the bed, put a pillow between his
legs and fucked it. "Damn, damn, damn!" Ivar's buttocks glistened in the
light from the street lamp.

He pulled a black bag from his backpack and for the first time in weeks he
took out the huge dildo he'd bought in Copenhagen. Doggy-style on the bed,
with very spread legs, he opened himself with oily fingers. This was not a
silent self-fuck; it was an action between joy and anger. He turned around
and spread his legs again and penetrated himself with the conical dildo.

"Fuck! Fuck!" His vocabulary was not very intelligent, but he started a
wild job with the dildo. With his other hand he squeezed his nipples. His
19 cm (7.5 inch) cock was leaking pre-cum and from time to time he even
caught some sticky juice and licked his fingers.

The sound from the bed was that of a youngster who was about to bring
himself to an orgasm. He used his muscles on the dildo and let it go inside
as far as possible. He raised his hips and spanked his cock with open
hands.

"Yeah, yeah, Robby. Fuck me, Robby. Let me cum, Robby. I love you,
Robby. Please, Robby, be kind to me! No, no, no, be hard to me Robby, fuck
me!" Ivar's voice was sore. He continued to spank his cock. Then he used
one hand to squeeze his balls, the other to pinch his already sore
nipples. He raised his hips from the bed again.

"Yeah, yeah, Trym. I'm cumming. I'm cumming, Trym!" He opened the iron fist
around the balls and erupted. The first shot hit the wall behind the bed,
the second and third hit his face; the rest dripped hands-free over his
belly. Ivar fainted. With the dildo still inside and with his body
partly-covered with boy-milk, Ivar relaxed and slowly came back to normal.

Ivar cleaned up, found the bottle of Norwegian Christmas aquavit, poured
three shots and was soon away in dreamland.

Egg, bacon, tomato-beans and black pudding! Ivar thanked the lady of the
house for an excellent breakfast. A bit sore after the dildo last night,
and a dick that was painful after the spanking; but it was still a very
happy morning. Neither Robby nor the father was around when the mother
brought another mug of tea.

"Robby said he would meet you outside the pool at ten o'clock, my young
friend. He was keen for a contest, he said," the mother said with a
smile. She took care of the used dishes even though Ivar tried to help.

Ivar was happy for the appointment. Robby was there at ten o'clock riding
his huge motor-bike. He went in front with his sports-bag, asked for a key,
and opened a double cabin. "Half price when we share," he said. "You don't
mind, do you?"  Robby was naked almost before Ivar had started
undressing. "Both sexes here so put on a towel on your way to the
shower. We English are a bit shy, you know."

Robby was not shy. He did not turn away. He showed off a very normal
half-hard dick, surrounded by a wilderness of dark hair. Then he put a
towel around his body. Ivar did just the same, tried to think of gym in
school at home, tried to concentrate on changing.

"Agnes wants me to shave my balls too!" Robby did not hide that he looked
at Ivar's lower parts. "I tried once. Itched like hell! How do you manage?"

"Do it often and use a body lotion. But I'm naturally quite smooth, and
that makes it easier. Still just a baby. Haven't you seen that? I get hard
when I see a real man!" Ivar grinned and put his half-hard tool inside the
towel.

Ivar and Robby had a fantastic day. They played in the pool and they
competed with joy. Afterwards Ivar borrowed some full-covering clothes from
Robby, and the two drove all around the forests and the neighbouring
villages. Ivar loved the heat from his new friend in front and had to put
the arms around his hips when he speeded up on the forest roads.

Now the two were sitting in the small garden behind the pub, sharing some
bottles of beer.

"You have a girlfriend, Ivar?" Robby suddenly asked.

"No Robby, I haven't. I have never had a girl; I dance and have fun, but
that's it. I've never been in love with a girl." Ivar was more open than
usual in front of a person he hardly knew.

"You fancy me then, Ivar?" His question was hardly audible.

"Yes I do, very much! You mind?" Ivar raised his glass. "Skaul!" he
said. "But don't worry. I'm not going to rape you!"

"And I fancy you, Ivar. May we just stay friends?" He placed a hand upon
Ivar's. "Agnes is my love, you know!"

"I know, I know. I like her too!" Ivar found his glass again.

A shouting was heard from inside the kitchen window.

"I have to go Ivar, dinner is ready for serving. You go to the railway
exhibition this evening, eh?"

Both of them emptied their glasses and left the table. Robby suddenly
stopped and hugged Ivar tight, cheek met cheek for longer than a normal hug
among friends. "You are the coolest Viking I have met!" he said and ran
off.


To be continued