Date: Fri, 24 Apr 2020 18:49:12 +0200
From: Daniel Comnenus <daniel.comnenus@gmx.com>
Subject: My Elvish Boyfriend (part 2)

MY ELVISH BOYFRIEND (2)

By Dolphin Dan


I met Ernemion, known as Ernie, when I was a senior in high school at
Bellhampton High School in Washington state and he was (technically) a
junior, an exchange student visiting from the Eastern European country of
Varandikar. This was in 1992. I had never been particularly attracted to
elves before but when Ernie and I hooked up at a sleepover at my house,
suddenly no one with rounded ears was good enough for me anymore. I was
completely enchanted by him. Later I learned that I was literally
enchanted, but that comes later in the story.

That first time, the sleepover in October, we did each other in "Greek
position" or what they call (clinically) "interfemoral sex," which means
basically a guy fucks between his partner's (usually another male's)
thighs. This is basically a starter position. I hoped it would get more
hard core, and it did. About a week after the sleepover Ernie and I were
studying at my friend Leigh's house--Leigh and her parents were his host
family--and Ernie, with a smile on his face, wrote something down in the
elvish alphabet on a piece of notebook paper. He said, "Now you learn some
Varandi words." He made me sound them out: "Tezhma...ne...vzshoas." Every
time I asked him what these words meant he broke up laughing. Finally he
wrote another phrase, in his beautiful elvish writing. Pronounced
phonetically it was, "Zhi tezhma ne vzhoas?" Because I knew the word
"vzshoas" meant "penis," I knew this was sexual. Finally I got him to say
what these words meant: "Will you suck my dick?" I took the paper and wrote
in big letters MYE which means YES.

Of course I wanted to do it, but it wasn't until Ernie eased back in his
chair, reached under the table and unzipped the fly of his jeans that I
realized he intended for me to do it to him right now. He banged the table
softly. "Come on, you said yes." I tried to argue, I didn't mean right now,
it's dangerous. Leigh or her mom or anyone could come in. Ernie pried open
the button fly of his underwear (which I'll talk about in a moment) and the
head of his hard dick was visible, ready, throbbing. He tapped the table
again and said something in Varandi that I assume meant, "Come on, do it."
So I crawled under the table, put my face in his lap and took the head of
his dick into my mouth. This was only the second time in my life I had
another male's penis in my mouth. It was so hot I almost couldn't handle
it. I licked the ridge where the head met his shaft and I ran my tongue
along the underside of his cock. He moaned and smiled and squirmed in his
chair which meant I was doing it right. Ernie managed to control himself
and lasted for several minutes, though when he finally came he broke the
pencil he was holding in his hand and turning end over end. His hot salty
elvish cum splashed the inside of my mouth and I swallowed it all. Even
though I hadn't gotten off myself I felt hugely satisfied and my whole body
hummed with contentment. After I went back home I jacked off three times
that afternoon and night to come down from this experience.

Teaching me Varandi phrases was Ernie's way of warming me up to various
sexual activities, not that I was ever cold. A few days after the blow job
incident he gave me a sheet of notebook paper filled with the most
beautiful elvish script. It was not only another language but another
alphabet I had to learn. Every single one of them was dirty. Here were the
phrases he taught me, transliterated into English.

"Tezhma ne vzshoas" = "suck my dick" "Tezhma ne vzhoas ehetitu mrcoa" =
"suck my dick, you fucking whore" "Ne vzhoas gemet zu tems" = "my dick is
bigger than yours" "Negnet ne volom" = "lick my balls" "Umpzhahe im
gonzhar" = "I'm going to cum in your mouth" "Umpzhahe im fragnar" = "I'm
going to cum in your butt" "Egnet umpzhane gu, ehetitu grymana" = "eat my
cum, you fucking f*ggot" (This is obviously very rude and more of an
insult, which you would not say to a lover. You would say to someone you
liked, "Svagnza umzhane gu," meaning "swallow my cum," which you would
usually combine with "Umpzhahe im gonzchar, gimla, svagnza umzhane gu,
pia," which means roughly "I'm going to cum in your mouth, swallow it,"
with "gimla" being a term of endearment like we use "honey" or "dear," or
you could say it in a very romantic way, "Re umpzhahe im gonzhar, gimla,
kim ugne mayala," which basically means, "I'm about to cum in your mouth,
dear, I want to give it to you," with the "give it to you" including an
expectation that if I love you I will receive what you're about to give
me. This is the difference between orders in Varandi, where you're stating
an intention like "I'm going to cum in your butt," which requires no
reciprocation--if you happen to have a Varandi's dick in your ass when he
says this to you he's going to do it no matter what you do. But a lover
would say it more softly, with the phrase "kim ugne mayala," which suggests
reciprocation and in fact love, i.e., "I'm going to cum in your butt and I
hope you receive it as a gift that I want to give you." It gets even more
complicated with heterosexual married couples, where there are extra words
implying that "give it to you" means "give you a baby," but same-sex lovers
never say that. In any event I've gone on too long about sexual phrases in
Varandi.

I have not mentioned Ernie's full name, which I only learned when I
happened to see his student ID card at lunch one day, though I knew his
last name started with an M because of the order in which Dr. Cazales
passed back our physics papers. His name was Ernemion Rosenvandt
Maundelow. Isn't that an awesome name? I mean, who has a name like that?
The fact that I was having sex regularly with Ernemion Rosenvandt Maundelow
made me feel like a stud on wheels, though of course I couldn't tell
anybody about it.

As hot as he was, Ernie was not very stylish, at least at first. I already
told you his look was about 4 years out of date, among the clothes he
brought with him to America were acid-washed jeans, Hobie and Vuarnet
T-shirts and second-hand Reebok high top sneakers circa 1988. They got
everything late in Eastern Europe. So at one point Leigh, his foster sister
and I, sort of kidnapped Ernie one Friday afternoon after class and took
him to the mall to get new clothes. Leigh and I were becoming close friends
because by this time I was Ernie's best friend and studying with him all
the time which meant I was at Leigh's family's house often. Leigh's
boyfriend was a football jock named Trevor who came with us sometimes,
though I suspected that she really fancied Ernie and was frustrated that
she couldn't bag him. (She had no idea he was gay). Anyway, this is all
set-up for our shopping trip.

Leigh and I picked out several different shirts and jeans for Ernie. He was
a tall dude with long hair and pointed ears, so he should look imposing but
not intimidating, tasteful but not a trend-follower. We got him some
Nautica and Polo stuff, Silver Tab jeans (in 1992 they were not yet as
baggy as they would become three years later), and Doc Martens boots, size
13, green was the color he preferred. When he came out of a fitting room
with all this stuff on he was so sexy I almost shot a load in my shorts
right then and there. "You tink zis look is good on me, yah?" Leigh and I
agreed, with this look he would easily be the hottest boy at Bellhampton
High School. The bill for his new clothes was more than $600 but Leigh's
parents, who were pretty well off, had given her their credit card.

My contribution to Ernie's new fitting-out was his underwear. Honestly the
underwear he brought to America was pathetic. He had a couple of pairs of
shorts that were made of a scratchy cotton-poly blend, which had once been
white but had turned sort of beige after hundreds of washings with the hard
water and cheap soap they apparently had in Varandikar. These were
basically boxers but they had an elastic waistband like briefs with a gray
stripe. They had a button fly but on several pairs of Ernie's shorts the
cheap plastic button had fallen off or even been broken in half. He told me
these were "Commie shorts." He literally used that phrase. Varandikar had
been a socialist People's Republic, a satellite buffer state of Soviet
Russia, until the revolution of 1989 kicked out the Communist
government. Ernie was 14 when the revolution happened which he told me
later was exactly the time he became sexually aware and active. On the day
the border opened in 1989 Ernie said that a boy who lived in the apartment
next to him, who was 18 at the time, forced Ernie to suck his dick and
later coerced him into letting him have anal sex with him. Ernie said he
liked it but it was still scary because he was sure this older boy would
have hurt him if he didn't do what he wanted. The boy and his family left
the country within a week as a result of the border opening so it didn't
happen again.

Anyway, Ernie told me this while explaining why his underwear sucked. Most
people's clothes, especially utilitarian stuff like T-shirts and underwear,
had been mass-produced by factories under the Communist government. Ernie's
shorts weren't even his own. He told me they were hand-me-downs from his
older brother who went into the Varandi army in 1989, two months before the
revolution, and left a bunch of his clothes behind. There was even a tag
sewn to the waistband of one of Ernie's pairs of underwear that had
Cyrillic (Russian) writing on it. It all had to go. Throwing away Ernie's
underwear was as much a political statement as it was personal. We should
have burned his shorts on a bonfire and danced naked around the flames, but
this level of symbolism was beyond me at age 17.

I considered Ernie's underwear my responsibility because, given my
relationship with him, I would be the one who would see him the most in
them, and I'd be taking them off him when we had sex. So I got him some
boxers that he would look good in and which I hoped would be
comfortable. In addition to some purely woven-fabric boxers, I also
suggested to him some flannel boxer shorts with elastic waistbands. Most of
these had button flys. The anticipation of unbuttoning Ernie's shorts to
get at his penis was incredibly hot. In a department store, underwear came
three or four in a sealed package. I brought them to him in the fitting
room and Ernie approved them in almost bewilderment. "If you tink zis is
good, yes, okay."

The shopping trip happened in mid-November (1992). Not long after that was
the first time Ernie and I had anal sex. I had fantasized about it, of
course. What would it feel like with this big elvish guy's penis in my ass?
A few days before Thanksgiving, Ernie tried it for real. We were doing a
"sleepover," which was nuts that our or Leigh's parents did not catch on to
why we had so many of these, but they just didn't get it. We slept together
in the living room, and the movie on the VCR was "Home Alone," a film I
detest but it was our cover. As usual we zipped our sleeping bags
together. Ernie took off his underwear, the flannel boxers I had chosen for
him, and he took me in his arms. He said "You vant to do zis?" I said, yes,
I'm ready. Ernie pulled down my underwear and stuck his middle finger in my
butthole, all the way up to the knuckle. I groaned. He whispered in my ear,
"I don't vish to hurt you." It did hurt, but I also wanted Ernie inside
me. I said he should do what he wanted. It was awkward, but still hot. In a
way we were both clueless.

I lay on my stomach and spread my legs as far as I could for him. The
feeling of Ernie's big dick pushing into me was sharp and painful but I
told myself to relax. On the TV screen, Macaulay Culkin was dispatching the
robbers with hot irons, paint cans and other lethal traps. Ernie and I paid
no attention. We had a bottle of baby oil that he was using as lube. I
think he was amazed at how it felt when his oily dick pushed into me. He
said several phrases in Varandi, which I suspected were dirty but I didn't
understand them. I almost couldn't believe what was happening. I was laying
there in my sleeping bag with my thighs spread as far as possible, and he
was humping me, groaning softly, talking dirty in his language and gently
biting my shoulder and my neck. Finally he grabbed my shoulders, let out a
loud sigh, like, "Uhhhhhhh," and I felt his penis twitching and wiggling
inside of me as he shot his hot load up my butt. There was almost a
tingling feeling as my insides absorbed his seed, another effect of elvish
magic (which I learned about later). It was an incredibly beautiful
experience.

Later that night we switched positions and he let me do it to him. I
enjoyed it and came really hard but I was surprised that I didn't like it
as much as having him do me. We slept in each other's arms and only
remembered to unzip our sleeping bags and pretend we'd been sleeping
separately in the morning just before Leigh's family started stirring.

More to come...



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