Date: Mon, 16 Oct 2023 15:30:32 +0000 (UTC) From: rollerboy Subject: THE SATYR CHAPTER 1 The Satyr Chapter 1 by: rollerboy_1979@yahoo.com It was my Junior year in college, and I felt that I needed a break; a Nature break was in order. Life on campus, at a prestigious Eastern University, was a mix of classwork, parties, Left Wing propaganda, silly girls looking for husbands, and guys who jump from bed to bed, with women and men. Those guys were on full-ride athletic scholarships, so they skated by on their athletic prowess, and usually made a perfunctory appearance in class once in awhile. And they were horny bastards, who, when the girls wouldn't put out they would look for a slender, effeminate guy drunk at a party, spike his drink with a "date rape" drug, then fuck them after they passed out. The poor victim woke up with a sore asshole, and no memory of the brute who did it to him, but if he did remember, and sought out the rapist for a repeat, the jock would pretend he'd never seen him before and call him a "fucking faggot". They were masters at deflection, so they got away with it most of the time. I only recall one jock being led out in handcuffs after some gay boy accused him of rape. Funny, but he was back on the football field the next day, because his wealthy daddy had connections. I have always been fascinated by the Wienerwald, a medieval forest in Austria, commonly known as the Vienna Woods; not far from Vienna by car, and filled with hiking trails. It is very popular with the locals, and dates back hundreds of years. Being an engineering student with a minor in Mythology, and a lover of Fantasy fiction, it was the perfect place to get back to Nature and dream about Fairies, Fawns, and other mythical woodland inhabitants. My plan was to fly in to Salzburg, Austria, because I am also a huge fan of Mozart, and I wanted to visit his birthplace. I spent a few nights in a B & B on a working farm outside of Salzburg, with a friendly Austrian family who filled me in on what there was to see and do in the area. They had two strapping, Aryan blonde teenage boys, with piercing blue eyes who wanted desperately to learn about life in the United States, so they were constantly offering to help me find my way around Salzburg and the surrounding area. The older boy, Klaus had just turned 18 and he was a walking petrie dish of male hormones. His mom said it was okay if Klaus accompanied me around town, but his younger brother, Leopold had to stay on the farm. I promised Leo that I would play catch with him the next day, and he flashed the biggest toothy smile at me. Klaus hopped into my rented BMW and marveled at the new machine, which had very few kilometers on the odometer. He said, in heavily accented, very broken English, "This is a fine machine, John". I smiled and said, "Yeah, too bad it isn't mine, just a rental. I drive a 16-year old urban assault vehicle, back in the States", referring to my aging Wrangler. He gave me a puzzled look, and I just said, "Never mind. Mine is crappy compared to this". He understood that. He took me to Mozart's "Geburtshaus", German for "birthplace house", which held many original furniture pieces associated with his family, who were pretty well-off for the period. It was there that we saw a poster for a "Festungskonzert", a string quartet performance of Mozart music in the fortress that towers above the city of Salzburg. It is accessed by a funicular that carries passengers to the top of the Fortress. I'm not sure what excited me the most, a concert in Mozart's hometown, a ride on a funicular (I am an engineering student), or going with this gorgeous Aryan god standing next to me. I asked Klaus if he would like to go, and he said "Ja", meaning "Yes". The problem wasn't that it was the following evening, it was a Black Tie event, so I asked him if he had any formal wear. He lowered his head and said, "No, John". I always bring my tuxedo with me when I go to Europe, because I never pass up a chance to go to the Opera while there; and I never go to the Opera without going Black Tie. It's just a habit I've formed, and one that I love. I said, "Not to worry. Is there a place in town that rents formal wear". He nodded yes, and said it was just two streets over. I didn't want to miss this concert, and I didn't want to go by myself, so I took him to the formal wear shop. The very kind husband and wife, measured the Viennese oak tree of a boy that I brought in, and said they'd have his tux later that day! All I could say was, "Wow!", because you'd wait a week back home. It was early, so we drove just across the border into Germany to visit Berchtesgaden, the home of Hitler's infamous mountaintop "Eagles Nest", where he planned the Holocaust. It was a bittersweet moment, standing where The Fuhrer planned his murderous plot to exterminate the Jews. I was morbidly fascinated by the fact that such a beautiful spot was used to plan such a horrific event. We left Berchtesgaden, trying to remember the beauty of the place, and forget the rest. We swung by the formal wear shop and picked up Klaus' tuxedo for tomorrow, carefully laid it in the trunk of the car, and went to a local beer garden. It was legal for Klaus to drink beer, so that's what we did. I marveled at the wenches who carried 9 one-liter beer mugs in each hand! Let's just say that they weren't wispy, Twiggy types, these were some hearty girls, mostly blonde, who knew how to carry themselves and all that beer! We ate supper, which was some kind of meat loaf called Leberkase; it's similar to bologna sausage, made with beef, pork, and bacon, ground up very finely and then baked as a loaf in a bread pan until it has a crunchy brown crust. It was served on a plate with sauerkraut and boiled potatoes, and I ate every morsel, as if they were going to take it away from me! I had a belly full of Leberkase and beer, and I was feeling no pain. Klaus picked me up in his strong, muscled arms and carried me to the car, gently putting me in the passenger seat. He drove back to the farm because he obviously has been drinking beer all his life, probably with every meal, and had a much stronger tolerance for it. We got back to the farm long after midnight, so, once again, Klaus carried me into my private room, which was separate from the house and made up to look like an Alpine cottage. The last thing I remember is two plump, silky smooth lips pressing against mine, then muttering something in German, something like "Meine Liebe". I woke up tucked in bed, totally naked, with all of my clothes neatly folded or hung in the closet. I could smell bacon and eggs, and fresh coffee brewing, then I heard a knock at the door. In perfect English I heard Leo say, "Mr. John, your breakfast is ready, and after that, maybe we can throw the ball?". I shouted, "Good morning, Leo, I'll be right there". Then the headache started to pound. I got up, took a long satisfying piss, then got into the shower. Europeans are big on using electric "on demand" water heaters, so there was no waiting for the water to get hot, it came out of the tap hot enough to boil an egg. I took a hot, but quick, shower, combed my tussled hair and walked into the kitchen. Klaus, his dad, and Leo were all out doing chores, so I sat down and the Mrs. brought me a steaming cup of coffee. I took that first gulp, and my head cleared. Then the Mrs put down a plate of food fit for a king; eggs, bacon, sausage, potatoes, sliced tomatoes, and buttered toast. She had the German marmalade I'd grown to love after so many trips to Germany. It's more on the bitter side, and it has recognizable bits of rind in it. It was delicious! She was wearing her apron and looked like someone from a picture postcard of Austria, Germany, or Switzerland. She was a handsome woman, and she and her husband were bound to produce beautiful children. She spoke, "Klaus said that he had a wonderful time with you yesterday, John". After gulping down some breakfast, I responded, "Yes, he showed me many of the things I'd hoped to see on this trip". She acknowledged that we went to see the Eagles Nest, and said, "He's one Austrian native son we'd like to forget". I nodded in agreement, and then she said, "Klaus is excited about the concert tonight, too". And I said, "Well, it was the least I could do for the boy, after he did such a good job of being my personal tour guide". She smiled, and added, "He enjoyed every minute of it, kind of like a little little boy who has met his idol". I let out a little giggle, and she looked at me with a quizzical look on her face. "Oh, I'm sorry, it's just that he's the one who should be idolized by someone, like Leo". She smiled an agreed that Leo looks up to his big brother as if he were some sort of Super Hero". I offered that he probably was a Super Hero to that little boy.    After breakfast, I called out to Leo who was pitching some hay into the hay loft. "Hey, Leo, do you have time to play some catch?". He came leaping off those hay bales down to the floor of the barn, and yelled, "Ja, I'll be right back". He shot out of the barn like a rocket! I wandered over to the fence line and saw Klaus and his dad, shirtless, digging holes for fence posts, then hammering them in with a sledgehammer. Klaus was sweating profusely as he swung that large sledgehammer. With each swing, I could see every muscle and sinew in his arms, back and chest. I must admit that my cock began to swell in my jeans as I saw his ass in those skin tight lederhosen, and the suspenders that tried not to slip off of his massive trapezius muscles, sitting either side of his neck on his massive shoulders. With each swing, I could see how his well-developed deltoids looked like bunches of bananas sitting at the top of each arm. His blonde hair was saturated with sweat, and he constantly wiped the sweat away from his eyes with his forearms. At one point, he glanced over and saw me watching him. I waved, he smiled, then waved back. All I could think about was his pouty lips kissing me sweetly, goodnight. Leo, came back with a baseball and his catcher's mitt. He was obviously enthralled with American baseball, so he tossed the ball to me underhand, and asked me to pitch to him like a Major League pitcher. I asked, "Are you sure?". He said, "Ja". And I replied, "Okay, I'm gonna make your glove smoke!". Channeling back to my high school baseball days as a pitcher, I stood there, checked the bases, pretended to lob the ball into my mitt, shuffled my feet as if to get a good footing on the mound, spit, and shook my head, then nodded, as if I was getting signals from the catcher. Leo was squatting down, with the glove out, and with the biggest shit-eating grin I've ever seen. He was digging this, and I hadn't even tossed the first ball. I wound up, and slowed down my legendary fast ball, but it came in screaming and hit his mitt right in the strike zone, making a loud "thwack"! Leo, grabbed the ball and held it up in the air while doing a happy dance. He was jazzed that his new American friend knew how to throw a baseball just like the Major League pitchers do on TV. He lobbed it back to me, and I said, "Are you ready for something different", he nodded an enthusiastic "Ja". I wound up again, and threw a curve ball, and I'l be damned if that boy didn't see it coming, and lunged to his Left, catching the ball in his glove! That elicited another happy dance, and I just said, "Wow, kid! I'm gonna sign you up for the Majors! He went nuts and ran over to his big brother and his dad, and I could see him motioning to them what just happened. They acted surprised, but I think they were watching the whole time. I had that little blonde Aryan boy wrapped around my little finger all day long. We had fun. It was about an hour before the concert, so I dressed in my classic Armani tuxedo, after showering all the farm dirt off my body, then went to the house to see if Klaus was ready. I walked into the kitchen, and his mom was standing at the sink, then turned around. She said, "My, my, I have two handsome men in the house". With that, Klaus walked into the kitchen, dressed in the tuxedo outfit I rented for him, complete with Patent Leather shoes. He took my breath away. Standing before me was a blonde, blue-eyed mountain of a man, in a fabulous classic tuxedo, complete with satin lapels, and a white silk pocket square, casually cascading out of his breast pocket. "Wow, you sure clean up nice", was all I could say, after swallowing the lump in my throat. He smiled broadly, then little Leo popped out from behind his big brother, still holding the baseball glove with the ball inside. I said, "Leo, your brother looks like he could own the baseball team", and we all smiled. We went to the concert, which was well-attended by the Who's Who of Salzburg, including the mayor and his beautiful wife. I'm always amazed at how well most Europeans speak English. I guess it's required in grammar school, nowadays. I enjoyed the ride up in the funicular, and because it was a misty, somewhat foggy evening, accentuated by the powerful lights that shine on the Fortress, it was a magical setting for what was to be the most beautiful string quartet concert I have ever attended. We sipped champagne, and Klaus worked that crowd like a politician. I guess he and his family are well-known in town, and the way he introduced me to individuals in the crowd, was as if I was on display. I had a sort of Elisa Dolittle thing going on that night. I fantasized about being the protege of such an outrageously handsome, muscle-bound man, like Klaus. Oh, to be kept by someone so beautiful, sweet, kind, and muscular. I met every banker, insurance broker, animal breeder, and city father, who all knew Klaus! I guess farmers interact with all of those people from time to time. After the concert, we went back to the beer hall, and started right back where we left off the night before, only this time, we were dressed to the nines! But we weren't the only ones in tuxedos; half of the concert attendees were there, including the quartet members. We all sat together at one of those long wooden tables, and although many of the men had removed their bowties, we kept ours on to savor every moment, looking at each other, and smiling. Once again, we were over-served (wink, wink), and Klaus drove home, but he didn't carry me this time, at least not out of the beer hall. It was well after midnight when we got home and tip-toed into my chalet. I don't know who started undressing the other first, but before we knew it, those tuxedos were off and we were buck naked standing there in the moonlight. The sexual tension was palpable all night, and we both knew in our hearts that we'd end up in bed. We plopped onto the bed, caught in embrace, and began French-kissing each other. His sweet breath broke through all the beer, and I savored it as we both moved our tongues exploring the inside of our mouths. His lips were soft and warm, and he was oh, so gentle with his touch. Anyone hoping for rough sex was barking up the wrong tree. This boy was sensuous and loving. I explored his massive body with my hands, and when I got to his crotch, I could barely get my hand around his massive cock. It was paired with a massive set of balls, clearly loaded with sperm and ready for release. Klaus whispered, "Make love to me, John". And I answered, "I'll do you, if you'll do me?". He looked at me with those piercing blue eyes, and simply said, "Ja". After a sufficient amount of oral, including a fabulous "69" session, I rolled Klaus onto his belly, and gently fingered his pucker with some spit. His rock hard butt cheeks seemed to soften as I worked on him, gently introducing one finger, then two, then three until he was sufficiently dilated. I'm not as big as he is, but I'm no slouch either. I drew my throbbing member up to his pink rosebud, and gently touched it with the tip of my glans. That made Klaus shudder, then he reached back and spread his butt cheeks apart, welcoming me in. I put more spit on my cock, and gently pushed the head inside his pucker. It felt as though he was sucking me inside, because once I passed the first sphincter, he opened up even more and I fell inside of him. He then closed up his pucker and I began rhythmic thrusting. I started slow, and as he could feel the veins in my penis massaging the walls of his rectum, he moaned in delight. I slowed the pace a bit because I could feel my orgasm build inside of me, starting in my taint and working upwards, my testicles tucked up inside my body and my penis engorged even more. The signals were firing up from my penis to my brain, and all the necessary neural synapses were firing off instructions to my prostate and Kegel muscles, "it's time to ejaculate"! I grasped Klaus' waist with both hands, and leaned forward against his massive "bat wing" deltoids, and fired rope after rope of my baby butter into his willing rectum. He ground against me as I continued to inseminate my lover with my seed, and he moaned in delight at the thought of me impregnating him. I finished unloading into my beautiful Aryan lover, then as my penis went limp, I eased out of him and rolled onto the other side of the bed, still heaving for air as I came down from the awesome sexual high. Klaus was also spent from our coitus, but he propped himself up on his forearms, still on his belly, and leaned over to kiss me sweetly on the lips, saying, "John, that was beautiful, Danke Schon". I replied, "No, thank you, that was amazing!". He then got up on his knees and scooted over, facing me as I lay on the feather down pillow. He gently drew my legs up, and I instinctively grabbed hold of them, knowing my fate. I was about to be taken by a living Hercules, a god who could have stepped off Mount Olympus. He clenched his butt cheeks to keep every one of my sperm cell inside of him, and he slathered his spit on my anxious hole, gently circling his finger inside, just as gentle as could be. He didn't need much time to dilate me, because I knew what was coming and had mentally and physically prepared myself to receive his engorged, uncut manhood. Austrian doctors, unlike Americans, never adopted routine infant male circumcision, and left their boys intact, the way Mother Nature intended, and the way 90% of the world's male population happens to be. His foreskin was long and silky smooth, covering his glans even when fully erect, with a cute little pucker at the tip.    He bent forward to kiss me, and I could feel the tip of his penis touching my hole. His massive trunk blocked any moonlight shining through the window, as he lowered his body closer to mine, slowly introducing his throbbing member into my inner sanctum. He gently pressed in, and to my surprise, I took his girth with no pain whatsoever, probably because I was expecting it, and because he was a gentle giant. Once his large scrotum and it's contents were touching my taint, and I could feel his soft pubic hair against my body, I knew I was one with him, and I belonged to him. He got down on his forearms and put them under my shoulders, grasping me from underneath, his fingertips wrapped over touching my clavicles. He slowly arched his back, up and down, creating a rhythm, as I grasped his bulging triceps so as not to be pushed toward the headboard of the bed. He was kissing me almost constantly as he mated with me, akin to a gentle bull inseminating his favorite bovine lover. It was the most sensual and erotic love making session I'd ever experienced. It was as if I was being bred by one of those brutish football players in college, but by one so tender, loving, and caring about me; rather than someone who was just adding another notch in his Copenhagen can. As he made love to me, his pace quickened slightly, and his breathing increased, so I knew, before long, I was going to be inseminated by this beautiful man/boy, only about 5 years younger than I. As soon as I felt his member swell inside of me, I knew what was happening next. He groaned, "Mein Gott, I'm coming!". With that, his massive body shuddered, and I could feel thick, copious amounts of semen being injected inside of me, flooding my insides with his cocktail of life. His DNA was intertwining with mine and we were one. Had I been a fertile woman, there is no way in hell he wouldn't have impregnated me with that enormous amount of sperm! In a way, I suppose it was a waste, denying some young fraulein the chance to bore him a strapping son, or pretty little girl, but I couldn't worry about that. Klaus has obviously chosen the path he wishes to take, and it's all good in my mind. He laid down upon my chest, heaving for breath, and still firmly implanted inside of me. And he whispered, "Ich liebe dich (I love you). With that, he withdrew, and got into the shower. Afterwards, he put the tuxedo back on, kissed me goodnight, and went to his room inside the main house. I'm sure he was up bright and early, doing his chores. The next morning, I went to breakfast, and Klaus' mom told me how excited Klaus was about the concert last night, and I agreed that it was indeed exciting. I said my goodbyes to the family, telling Leo that I was going to watch his baseball career, and I promised him that one day, I would personally take him to visit every Major League ballpark in America, something I, myself, have always wanted to do. He jumped up and down with excitement at the idea, then I said, "Maybe Klaus can bring you with him on his next visit?". Klaus smiled broadly. I got plenty of hugs and European cheek kisses from everyone, then Klaus followed me into Salzburg on his horse. I returned the tuxedo, then he followed me out of town to a wooded area, where we hugged, cried a little, and kissed passionately, then I got in the car heading towards the Wienerwald, and he back to the farm on his horse. I could see him waving and blowing kisses in the rearview mirror, as tears ran down my cheeks. (to be continued) If you enjoyed my story, please support Nifty.org with your generous donations, and look me up as "Rollerboy" under "Authors" on the home page. That will take you to the other stories I have in the Nifty Archives. And as always, your comments are welcome. Email me at: rollerboy_1979@yahoo.com (disregard any other email addresses). Thank you!