Date: Wed, 27 May 2020 02:18:11 +0000 (UTC) From: rilobo1 schoengut Subject: Melting-Pot-12 Please help support nifty, they provide us with a wonderful resource, and rely on donations to keep the site running - http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html While elements and scenes in this story are based in reality, all of the characters and activities herein described are 100% fictional, and the story is 100% mine - please don't reuse without permission. Constructive comments are welcome at RILOBO1@yahoo.com Melting Pot - Chapter 12 by Rilobo1 Germans -- or rather sober Germans -- don't hug, but when they do hug, the encounter is fleeting. This is why I was so astonished that this hug went on for several moments. When Juergen pulled back, he looked me directly in the eyes, and confessed that handling Jonas' needs had begun to take its toll on him. He also told me that he felt like such incompetence with his own son -- a boy he loved with all his heart. He couldn't understand what it was that made his son like this, but knew that it was a terrible burden for Jonas to bear. Basically, he wished two things: to be there whenever Jonas needed him, and to understand more than just the bare mechanics of the boy's needs. I asked him how long he has been giving Jonas "Sonderhandlung", and he immediately answered nine and a half weeks, and on a very steep learning curve for him. Each time after he takes care of Jonas, he is very tired, and after tonight -- two times now (and probably at least one more tomorrow) -- he was beginning to have muscle cramps in his neck and shoulders. In short, he didn't know if he could keep up the pace any longer. I could sense his anxiety, and once again told him I'd be glad to help take some of the pressure off Papa's shoulders -- as long as certain criteria were met. He asked what those criteria were, and just off the top of my head counted three of them: Juergen would have to personally show me how to service Jonas, that Jonas would have to agree to me servicing him, that Jonas would have to be tested for STDs (since he'd had multiple unknown partners.) I wasn't so concerned about Atul, Alex or Jason's reaction, because they would all have no issues with helping the boy out. I also told Juergen that I should understand the physical aspects of Sonderhandlung, for example, what preparations were necessary? what materials were needed? and what physical positions were used. He decided to answer those questions and more by describing the average Sonderhandlung session. He first would send Jonas to the bathroom to use a "Klistier" bottle (now I knew the German word for "enema"). Then Jonas would climb onto the bed, lie on his back, and grab his ankles with his hands. Juergen would introduce lube to his anus and onto his own penis, and then begin fucking the boy just like he would fuck his wife. I apologized for asking such personal questions, but I needed to know: how big Juergen's penis was. He, without any shame, told me it was exactly twenty centimeters long, and thirteen centimeters in circumference. With a little math, I came up with about eight inches by five inches. I nodded, and told him that was pretty much what Atul and I were working with too. He quickly stood, and pulled down his shorts and underwear to give me a look -- even in its current "semi" state, it looked like it could be formidable. Germans display little shame when it comes to nudity. He told me that his glans and foreskin were a bit irritated after having to service Jonas twice tonight, and he pulled back his foreskin to show me, and indeed there was some redness. Juergen told me that it was because of the skin lotion he used tonight, as they had no proper lube. Further addressing my concerns, he told me that both he and Jonas had been checked for all known STDs twice in the prior months. This is why he was so worried about Jonas being out of his sight for such a long time earlier, as he didn't want to have to go through all that testing again; I nodded in agreement, another box checked. I ran to my bedroom, and brought back a spare bottle of lube to give to him, telling him I'd show him where to go and get more lube, condoms, and other supplies he might need. He did the sharp breath in over his teeth thing again, and said he hoped that it wouldn't matter to me that Jonas refused to let Juergen use condoms, because feeling the sperm on and in his hole really made Jonas feel much calmer: I assured him that bareback was no problem for me. For my part, I stood up and pulled my sweatpants down to my knees to show Juergen what I would be servicing his son with. He gave me an objective look-over, noting that I was circumcised. I obliged him by removing my tee-shirt and dropping my sweatpants to the floor, stepping out of them to give Juergen the chance to inspect all of the man he would be asking to help with his son's needs. Likewise, he undressed, and soon we were standing in front of each other, naked. Despite having just mightily ejaculated in Atul's ass less than an hour ago, I began to feel "liftoff" again; Juergen was a fine specimen of manhood: I had since learned that he is thirty six years old, a little taller than me, with alabaster skin, quite muscular, mostly hairless, with a dense blond covering on his chest, and a well-trimmed pubic bush. He reached out and squeezed my cock, and I immediately did the same. He winced a bit when I squeezed, so I grabbed the lube, squeezed a little out, and rubbed it on his shaft and glans covering both well. That seemed to soothe some of his irritation, and he began showing an erection of his own. Soon, we were standing directly in front of each other, looking down at and gently tugging on each other's full erections, it was clear to both of us that we were almost exactly the same size, so that Jonas could get what he needed from either one of us. I asked him how many men he had been with, and he told me that he had been completely heterosexually oriented his entire life, and that Jonas was the only male, other than me, whom he had ever touched. Fair is fair, so I told him that after the death of my partner ten years ago, Atul was the few adults I had been with, but that I had also been with Alex and Jason as well. I also told him that I get tested for HIV routinely. I was extremely curious how he as a straight man could even produce an erection for his own son -- and just blabbed out the question without filtering it first. Juergen just grinned, and said he'd always had a good imagination, and seeing his hairless son splayed out with his pink hole twitching somehow gave him just enough of a visual to achieve an erection, but feeling the tight, velvety warmness of his rectum was more than enough to maintain it through to orgasm. He also told me that the biggest problem about servicing Jonas, is that it took a long time -- up to thirty or forty minutes of constant fucking for Jonas to finally cum, and this is why he was so sore today. He then told me that he had something else to confess. Since having recently needing to fuck his son, and not having his wife around, he had started to have dreams in which his son's anus would become a tiny pink pussy, and since he loved performing cunnilingus on females, he had been considering putting his tongue in Jonas' pucker, He'd also been fantasizing about kissing his son's penis and balls, and possibly even his lips. As he told me this, I noticed his cock grow even harder, and the foreskin retreating back toward the coronal rim. His cock began to throb in time with his heartbeat -- and of course, that visual made my own cock behave in a similar manner. I just laid down on the couch, raised and spread my feet, and seductively pulled my asscheeks apart with my hands, exposing my hairless and pink asshole. I rubbed a still lubed finger around my hole to make it shiny, and asked him if it really looked like a pussy, and he just nodded, whispering "Ja". I told him that it was clean and fresh, and asked him if he wanted to see if it felt like a pussy as well. He answered by just kneeling between my legs, and tentatively reaching out with his index finger toward my hole. I grabbed the bottle of lube off the coffee table, and put a drop on my own finger, glistening my anus up for better presentation before pulling my ass cheeks wide again. He then began circling my anus with his finger, and then with two fingers. I noticed that he was producing copious amounts of pre-cum, with one strand of drool hanging a few inches below his now exposed piss slit. I forced my sphincter to relax, opening a small gape, and inviting him to explore a little deeper. He accepted the invitation by inserting a fingertip, which he wiggled slightly. I asked him if it felt like a pussy, and he just nodded, whispering "Ja". I told him that it would feel even more like a pussy if he would rub that pre-cum from his knob on it. Without hesitation or even breaking his focus on my hole, he moved forward, and did just that, exposing his glans, and wiping his knob up and down on my "pussy" several times before pulling back, and admiring his handiwork. He just breathlessly whispered "Ist ja geil" (that is so hot). Before, when Atul had been "preparing" himself, I visited the guest bathroom, got naked, evacuated bowels and bladder, and gave myself a good cleaning "down there", and as such had no qualms about what I said to Juergen next: "I wonder if it might taste like a pussy". Juergen quickly shifted his gaze from my hole, looking me in the eyes. I nodded "yes", and he looked back down. I squeezed and opened my sphincter a couple of times in invitation, and true enough, Juergen began moving his head down to my ass. In anticipation, I spread my legs as far wide and back as I could, opening myself up for the tongue's arrival. I raised my head up so I could witness the event; Juergen stuck out his tongue, and swiped my hole from bottom to top once. He paused, evaluating the sensation and taste, then swiped up again with a little more force. A third and even more forceful swipe brought a moan from my throat. He raised his eyes up to mine and pronounced that it tasted really good, asking if there was any special way he should go about eating it. I told him to pretend that I was Anna, and do whatever he would do with her. He gave me a cock-eye grin, and then dove down, pressing his entire, wriggling tongue into me, opening me up wider and wider. His hands got into the action, spreading the playing field out for his very talented mouth and tongue. I moved my hands up to my ankles, so I could keep my legs in a better position for him. He pulled back from time to time to take a look, and from the wide look in his eyes and from my other senses, I could tell that my hole had really begun to dilate for him. He frenched my hole for several more minutes, and all I could do is moan my appreciation for his talents! His wife had taught him well: this was by far the best rimjob I had ever had. He suddenly stopped, and leered up at me. With his cock-eyed grin, he asked me if it could truly function as a pussy. My response? "There is only one way to find out for certain." Not knowing what to expect, I reached again for the bottle of lube, squeezed out some on my fingertips, and gave him the bottle. As I applied lube to myself, he greased his considerably swollen pole up, making certain that the foreskin and glans got its share. He quickly lined himself up, and placed the first half of his cockhead into the gape his tongue had so recently created. He then looked up into my eyes, and asked if there were any special instructions on what to do. I simply asked him to keep looking into my face to see if everything is going well, and to fuck me like he fucks his wife... or his son. He gave me a very sexy leer, and pushed his cock all the way in -- balls deep. The thrust took my breath away, and the immediate withdrawal of seven of his eight inches did not help restore my breath. From the very outset, he established a very regular tempo of one-second thrusts and withdrawals. I could hear it in my head: "one Mississippi, two Mississippi" in on the "one" and out on the "Mississippi". The tempo didn't vary. It was not without its pleasurable aspects, but I noticed that he raised up toward my scrotum on the slower outstroke. I surmised that over time, he had developed this technique to provide friction for his wife's clitoris. While laudable (and probably quite arousing for female genitalia), it completely avoided any prostate contact on the outstroke, and minimized the contact on the downstroke. Eureka! I think I may have discovered why it takes Jonas so long to orgasm. I let Juergen continue in his own manner for a few more moments, because, well, it was not without the aforementioned pleasurable aspects. I finally raised my head and engaged him in a brief conversation. I told him that a man's ass was indeed different from a woman's pussy in where the special "G" spot was located. I then shifted the angle of my ass downward so that his cock would angle up more. When he tried to adjust his hips down to compensate, I brought my feet down to his lower back and pulled his hips back up. I adjusted his angle to where this cockhead was making two regular visits to Mr. Prostate each second, and accentuated it by moaning on each contact. I asked him if he felt that bump inside me, and he nodded. I told him he was in complete control of when I had my orgasm: hit that bump hard enough and fast enough, and I would not be able to control myself. I told Juergen to grab my legs at the ankles, and with that lever of control, he was the master of the fuck: push forward, and slam the bump -- my prostate, pull back, and have easy, deep strokes. Vary the angle, and add new dimensions to the act of sex. He experimented with several angles, but never altered the depth nor the tempo of the fuck. I could sense from his eyes that he felt more stimulation on his cockhead whenever it rubbed along my bump. I looked up at him, forcing eye contact, and growled at him to "make me cum NOW, and I will make you come!" He pushed my ankles forward, and began raking my prostate over and over again. I told him to fuck me faster, and he did. Sweat was dripping from his face to my torso, and I became lost in oblivion. When my orgasm began, I forced the angle down so that he was now making only long strokes, and then my ass clinched tightly around his rod. This added friction brought his orgasm forward, and I reached down to his butt cheeks , grasping them tightly, and forcing them and his cock deep into my guts, holding them in place, as he bellowed out loud, his and my orgasm enhanced each other. I felt several pulses of cum blast into me, and after having had superlative sex with Atul, was surprised to feel trickles of wetness on my own stomach as well. I had just successfully seduced a completely straight man -- the gold standard of the gay man. Juergen, breathing heavily, leaned forward, and gave me the briefest of kisses. He then pulled back, and slowly pulled his cock out of my body, carefully watching his still erect member glisten out. I quickly got up, ran to the guest bathroom, and brought back two hand towels. We wiped ourselves of sweat, lube, and cum, and then relaxed back for a bit of afterglow. As our breathing returned to normal, I went to get two fresh Koelsch beers, which we clinked together in the traditional German "Prost" toast, and slaked our thirsts. We pulled on our clothes, just before Juergen, turned to his typically German worldview, and began a critical examination of the last half hour's events. In the final analysis, he announced that he had obviously been doing some things incorrectly with Jonas, and he looked forward to learning new techniques from me. He then formally invited me to visit them after the tour of Clarkston shopping and dining options, and begin formal lessons. I readily agreed: who was I to argue?