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Peculiar work, possibly a Svea piracy. From the author's English-as-a-second-language stylings, we're sorta getting a ripoff-of-Emmanuelle vibe. Unintentionally humorous text has very little to do with secondary education.
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This page copyright © 2009 Olympia Press.
The big jet climbed to cruising altitude and leveled off for the short flight from London to Dusseldorf. All the incoming flights to Hamburg were being routed through Dusseldorf. Susan and John should have been exhausted from their stay in London with Angelle and Logan. But they weren't. It had been an almost continual orgy since the first night when Susan had phoned the number given her by Ronaire, the Frenchman. The wild sex-oriented floor show's at “Angelle's Rest” where the patrons did everything except rest.
Flying over the English Channel they were conniving and contriving, trying to find a way to have sex on the plane without being caught.
“Tell you what,” Susan's eyes lit up, “I'll go back to the rest room and in a few minutes you follow me. There are two rest rooms and they are not marked so that means either men or women can go in either of them. If you let me go and then you come along in a little while no one will know that we both went into the same one. We'll take the one of the left as we go back. Okay?”
John turned and looked back down the aisle of the plane. There was a curtain pulled across the entrance to the rest room area. No one could see who went into which of the two doors.
“All right. You're on.” He moved his legs sideways so that she could get past him. He watched as her cute bottom wiggled down the aisle and he could feel the old passion start to rise in his pants. The tingling sensation he got when Susan's buns bounced jauntily as she walked in the high heeled slippers. He could remember the time when he was cruel to her sexually. But that had all been solved in France. He found out at the round of parties in Paris that the problem wasn't Susan's but his own.
He had been a terrible prude and fought his own happiness because of it. But now all was well and their vacation was continuing on a new level of fun and enjoyment.
He waited almost five minutes and then casually rose from his seat and calmly made his way the length of the big aircraft to the little room at the far end where Susan was waiting to receive his horn of plenty. He smiled at the thought.
He didn't knock. Just opened the door and entered. Susan stood in the small room, nude. It hadn't occurred to her that someone other than John might come in. When John suggested that it might have happened she smiled, shrugged her shoulders and said, “But no one did.” That was that. She went to him and put her arms around his neck, pulling herself up as his head came down to kiss her. John let his hands wander over her body, caressing the soft flesh and exploring the confines of her tender and warm mouth. The pouty lips puckered in surrender and the body quivering to his touch. It became a new thrill every time he touched her. Every sex act was now a honeymoon and John no longer harbored the dark sadistic attitude. Any sadistic tendencies came out in his hammering thrust as he made love to her.
The room was small and John's passion was large. He chewed at her earlobes gently and nibbled down her shoulders. Susan was also extremely excited and she nearly reached climax when John let his tongue linger on the tips of her rosebud tits.
She panted, “Here, let me get around you.” She turned and pulled John around and had him sit down on the small toilet with the lid down. John was fully clothed but Susan helped him unbuckle his belt and got his pants open, exposing the big rod which already was seeping at the head.
“This is better,” she gasped and straddled over his upright prick. John had her two luscious breasts in his hands fondling them, kissing first one and then the other Susan lowered herself over the head of John's prong and with an undulating motion she began to ease the mouth of her vagina down over John's manhood, moving and undulating and rotating as each inch of the hard flesh entered her. It took only a few minutes for the feeling to rise in John's legs and up through his entire body and then the big eruption. When he came it was an explosion. His arms around Susan's waist came up and grabbed her shoulders from behind and with a lunge and a heave he brought her down hard, completely burying himself and the sperm splashed and splattered against the opening of her womb and she climaxed with him.
They panted with exhaustion hanging onto each other for support. Someone tried the door handle and they both gave a start. But the door was still locked and Susan quickly dressed as John zipped up his trousers.
Susan whispered to John, “Well go out together. You say your wife was ill and let them think what they will. I doubt that anyone would think we had this much nerve.”
John nodded and when they were presentable again he unlocked the door and pretended to help Susan out. An elderly women was waiting to get in and she gave John a dirty look.
“My wife is rather ill—she isn't used to flying,” John said in a very unconvincing fashion.
The lady just gave him another dirty stare and snorted, “nimpt” and went inside the vacant restroom, quickly closing the door behind her.
Susan snickered and as they made their way back to their seats she noticed a stewardess giving John a knowing look. At least it was a knowing look to Susan.
But the trip continued on without event and Susan dozed, wondering half-asleep and half-awake, what excitement was ahead of them. She must remember to make an entry in her trip diary when she got to a hotel in Hamburg.
It seemed that she had only closed her eyes and the stewardess was gently shaking her shoulder. “We are preparing to land in Dusseldorf. Please fasten your safety belt.”
“Oh? Oh yes. Thank you.” Susan fumbled for the seat belt as she leaned forward to look out the porthole window. She could see the green countryside below. It looked so peaceful from the air. So green and pure and clean. She had a sudden nostalgia for her childhood again with the hills and countryside of the rural area in which she spent her early years. All gone now. All behind her. A tear welled in her eye. This great big ugly sophisticated sex-crazy world, she thought. How awful to be trapped.
She brushed the tear and the thoughts from her mind. She was on a vacation and they were here to have fun. Why conglomerate her head with sad thoughts.
The landing was smooth and comfortable. The announcement came over the speaker system, “Please remain seated until the plane comes to a complete halt. On behalf of the Captain and crew, this is your stewardess thanking you for your cooperation and we hope you have had a pleasant flight.” The click of the button and her voice went silent. The engines hummed outside the pressurized cabin as the giant jet zigzagged along the strips of concrete that interlaced the field like dingy grey ribbons.
The large craft rolled to a halt and the engines were cut. Already many of the passengers had ignored the stewardess and had bags and parcels pulled down from the overhead shelf and now clogged the aisles awaiting some signal from ahead to move out.
Once outside the plane a large building loomed ahead like some square-shaped monster that fed on people as they flowed into the doorway that could easily be construed, with imagination, to be some misshapen mouth. Over the doorway the sign read, “CUSTOMS”. It was written in several languages, including English. To be sure there were no defectors from the custom house doorway, each side of the walkway was bordered with a high metal fence and barbed wire guards at the top. No doubt there was a lot of potential smuggling problems and Susan thought it would be hard as hell to get anything illegal through this animal trap.
Everyone was most polite but thorough. There had been a report of a large cache of drugs being smuggled into Germany by way of England so the search of luggage and handbags was thorough. One man and woman had been hustled off to a special room where they had been disrobed and searched expertly in the most intimate places. Susan and John had been able to speak with the couple later in the coffee bar as they waited for Customs Officials to finish their tasks.
They were not man and wife but traveling companions, they explained. The man, Erik, and the girl, Frieda, were German nationals. Erik philosophically brushed his hands across the empty air and said, “It is all a misunderstanding. I was once employed by a drug firm and six months after I left the company an inventory showed a large shortage of barbiturates. All employees past and present were checked out. In my home they found several bottles of different pills — I had brought them home at various times for my own personal use as employees do. The same as the office worker who may bring home some stamps or stationery. In any event I was accused. There was a big investigation and the charges of course were dropped.”
“But why would they do this to you? I mean like today?” John asked quite curiously.
“Ah, but you do not understand my friend,” Erik continued. “My name was given to the governmental agency involved in narcotics control and in turn to the customs and federal police officials. I shall endure this sort of thing as long as I live. I have adjusted to it. It no longer bothers me.”
“You are probably wondering about me,” Frieda interjected. “I once smuggled a diamond ring into the country in a packet inserted into my vaginal tract. Naturally I, too, was placed on the list of what the call 'suspicious persons.'”
Susan was absolutely fascinated. She felt as if she had suddenly dropped into the center of an international spy ring and she expected to be mysteriously shuttled off to some country estate soundproofed and surrounded by high walls.
But such was not the case. Erik and Freida were returning to Hamburg after a visit to America. John told them that he and Susan were staying at the Atlantic Hotel in Hamburg and suggested perhaps they could all get together while John and Susan were there and have dinner.
Erik thought that to be a splendid idea and promised to phone.
After what seemed hours of waiting John and Susan welcomed the inter-com announcement that Customs had been cleared and the flight was now ready to re-load and continue on to Hamburg which, incidentally, is a very short flight.
Once on the ground in Hamburg it seemed that the German efficiency was much more in evidence than it had been at Dusseldorf. Everything moved quite rapidly and the hotel service bus awaited the deplaning passengers. Susan flirted with a young college boy on the bus and his embarrassment gave his cheeks the well-known scrubbed nordic look. She enjoyed his discomfort all the way into the city although John seemed not to notice what was happening.
The hotel was beautiful. The lobby was extremely old European although it was reputed to be one of the most modern hotels. The wide staircase up to the mezzanine and second level was magnificent and Susan imagined herself sweeping down those stairs in full Loretta Young style gown and making the grand entrance to the amazement and delight of the young studs gathered at the bottom of the stairs vying for her young hand.
But in reality they were given a beautiful suite of rooms overlooking the lake which was called Der Alster. The bell boy explained that the lake was man-made and was the delight of all sailing enthusiasts. Looking out the window at the lake below, Susan noticed all the pretty white sails dipping and gliding across the water. It looked like fun. At one end of the lake was the Ginza or shopping district. On the other end was the arch of a residential street circling the arch of the lake with park-like grounds for walking and resting.
Susan vowed silently that she would savor all there was to enjoy in this staid old city. She might even teach them a thing or two. What she didn't know was that Hamburg had its own places that could and would teach her some of the finer arts of life and love and of course that old devil sex.
If the sitting room of their suite was large—and Susan thought it immense since it also housed a breakfast nook, then the bedroom was a masterpiece. The ceilings were about twelve or thirteen feet high and the bedroom was at least thirty by thirty. Such grandeur. Ah, Europe, she thought.
“John,” she asked casually as she gazed down to the street below, watching all the little foreign cars darting in and out from each other, “do you think Erik will really call?”
“I don't know,” John mused, “perhaps. Why?”
“Oh, I don't know, he was just so handsome—so virile looking. You know how attracted I am to the tall blonde God-like creatures. How old do you think he was? It's so hard to tell with blondes.”
“About thirty-five I would imagine. Although Frieda looked to be about twenty-five. She's quite a dish.”
“Yes, I noticed your eyes giving her the tape-measure once over.” Susan didn't sound jealous, only a statement of fact.
“As a matter of act, you're right. Did you get a load of those boobs? Believe me, that is what I call a tape-measure job. She must be at least a 40.”
“I'll bet she's had silicone,” Susan replied, letting her hand go to her own full breast, assuring herself that she also had a tape-measure job.
“I'd sure as hell like to find out. She looked at me in a way that makes me think she'd like to me find out, too. Did you notice that?”
“Well, what I really noticed was the size of Krik's shoulders and arms. He is muscular as hell. I'll bet he hasn't got an ounce of fat anywhere on him—except maybe some chubbiness around his love club.”
John came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, kissing her on the neck as he rubbed his hardening joint against the plump buns that protruded from Susan's backside.
“I have a little chubbiness here and there, too,” John cooed. “Do I hear a bid?”
“Oh, John,” Susan giggled, “I swear I don't know what's come over you. But whatever it is I hope it never stops. It's so great to have you and others too. It's like having your cake and eating it, too.”
“Speaking of eating it,” John said, “how about helping a fellow out?”
He pulled Susan around and kissed her hard on the mouth, grasping her hand placing it over the lump in the front of his tight trousers.
“Ooohh,” Susan gasped, “you're so good and hard. Mama make daddy feel all better. You'll see.”
She led him to the bed and he lay across it on his back with his legs dangling over the edge. Susan didn't bother disrobing, she unzipped John's pants and pulled them down. Then she tugged at the jockey shorts that always seemed so damned hard to do anything with but she finally managed to get them down to his knees and there in all its full rigid majesty was her husband's erect and demanding manhood.
Susan fondled his phallus with great delight. She squeezed his balls and ran her finger up and down the under cord of his cock, causing it to jump as she hit the sensitive spots.
Then she let her tongue tickle the same areas, not vet touching the throbbing head. She was teasing and enjoying it. John lay and moaned softly as she licked on him and from time to time he would give a little jump as she hit a particularly sexy area. He let his hand wander down to the back of her neck and began to slowly massage her neck and shoulder. Susan reacted by moving in closer on his huge cock. She began to lick around the head, letting her tongue run under the curve of the head and then up to the opening on the tip where she lingered as her tongue explored the opening.
John was moving under her. He was enjoying each delicate touch of the soft pink tongue with the little taste buds giving an ever so delicate sense of friction. It was an erotic delight to John and his reactions only tended to make Susan hotter. She let her lips encircle the head of his prick without going down to it. Just let the lips linger and as she tightened-up she started a quivering motion with the muscles of her mouth that drove John to moans of pleasure. He tried to push her head down on his cock but she resisted. She continued to linger on the head of the meat and she began a slight sucking motion, letting the tip of her tongue quiver as it inserted slightly into the opening of his penis. John knew he could stand little of this before the orgasm came racing up.
John began a rotating sexual movement under her hot mouth. As he squirmed in rhythm Susan began to take a little more of his prick into her mouth. She slowly got the head entirely inside her hot orifice and began to suck on the head as a child with a lollipop. John could no longer stand it. He grabbed the back of Susan's head and continuing to rotate, forced his cock down her throat. She gagged but he hammered home at her. Each thrust up caused Susan to gag and pull back but when John gave three or four rapid thrusts and then relaxed he let his cock pull back until the lips of Susan's mouth was just around the head and then he erupted. Wave after wave of hot sperm shot out as she tightened her lips around the head and not a drop was lost. Susan just gulped and swallowed as she sucked furiously on the head of his pulsating prick. John lay there in another world, sinking into sleep, slowly but surely, as Susan drained him completely. Soon Susan fell over and slept with him.
It must have been the flight or the sex in England, or the sex on the plane, or the sex in the hotel—or a combination of all these. Because Susan and John slept for 36 hours. They had left a don't disturb sign on the door — and no one had disturbed them. When Susan awoke it was evening—perhaps eight o'clock. It was dusk out but not dark. Summertime in the early evening is always so dreamy and drowsy on the continent.
A twilight glimmer pervaded the room, giving it a musty old-world charm and beauty. Susan beheld her surroundings, in somewhat of a daze, and let her eyes wander, not certain where she was—or even who she was. She caught sight of John. He had a quilt and was rolled up like a ball on the floor. It startled her at first and being startled she was jolted back to reality.
I wonder how long I've been asleep, she wondered to herself. All day I suppose. John was snoring and she thought how cute he looked cuddled up on the floor like a little boy afraid of the dark. Men. They really are only little boys. No matter how grown up they still can't resist all the little temptations and adventures of a young lad. She smiled and stretched. She still was dressed but she was disheveled.
Stretching, she raised up on the side of the bed and felt dizzy for a moment. Sleeping so long that way makes one light-headed when they get up. Reaching for a chain by the bed, Susan snapped on a light and looked for the clock. It was almost nine.
“My God,” she said aloud, “we've slept all day.” Turning she spoke to John, “John honey, wake up. It's night already.”
John grunted and rolled over, forming a ball in the other direction. Susan smiled.
“Okay,” she said. “You sleep a while. I'll use the bath now and we won't get in each other's way.” She stood up unsteadily from the bed and made her way to the open window. There was a breeze blowing in off the lake. Susan stood by the window, the light wind playing through her black hair and fluffing it. She held her head high and back and breathed deeply. It was fresh clean air. “Ahh,” she murmured. “Los Angeles was never like this. I may get drunk on atmosphere.” She laughed a little and turned, starting for the bathroom. John still lay on the floor, snoring now.
As Susan lathered her body she wondered if Erik had phoned. Dammit, why did she keep thinking of him all the time? Was it true that Germans are lousy lays? She had always heard how cold they were. Well, she intended to find out. It would either be Erik or someone else. She really wanted to have a four way with Erick, John, herself and Frieda.
But it would have to wait a bit. She suddenly remembered their promise to Angelle. They'd have to call Angelle's friends and see about the German Angelle's Rest.
Susan had bathed and was powdering her nude body when John made his impish appear a nee at the bathroom door, beaming his smile in her direction.
“Hi sweetie, what's for dinner?” He looked down to her tuft of curly black pubic hair, still grinning.
“Oh, you men,” she replied, faking as if to cover up. “It isn't Friday so no fish.”
John laughed, entering the large bathroom and slapped her on the ass. “It may not be fish day but with those butterballs who cares.” John was at his best, in a frolicking gentle mood. Susan liked him like this. With the infectious grin, the happy-go-lucky attitude and out to have fun.
“What's on the agenda for the evening, I might ask, my husband? I feel like I haven't eaten for two days. I'm famished.”
John stepped into the shower and answered her over the roar of the water, “You should be hungry. You haven't eaten for two days. I just checked with the room clerk. They were starting to worry about us. We've been sleeping since yesterday morning.”
“You're kidding,” Susan suddenly felt so rested that she knew she could go all night now without batting an eye.
“Nope,” John replied. “You must have put a sedative in that head job. I might put you to work rolling millionaires. Couldn't miss with your technique.”
“Stop it,” Susan pouted. “You're just putting me on.”
“Why don't you check with the room clerk and find out for yourself. You might also ask if there have been any calls. I forgot to ask. I was only checking to see if the time was right.”
“Okay,” Susan replied, “but who would be calling us so soon. Who knows we're here?”
“Well, you might start with Erik,” John smiled.
“I hadn't given it a thought,” Susan said airily and knowingly. “But I'll check just in case.” She left John to his shower and went to the phone by the bed.
She ordered coffee and toast and then asked for any messages. Yes, there had been a call from Erik and Frieda, earlier in the day. Also a call from Bruno Baumgarten.
Susan asked the clerk, “Bruno who?”
He repeated the name.
“Did he leave a message or number? Or did he even say what he wanted?” Susan was baffled. She knew no one by that name and she was sure John didn't either.
The clerk answered, “Mr. Baumgarten left his number and said you had met him in England. He only arrived here today.”
“Oh, I see, Yes, I'm sure I know who it is now. Thank you so much and please hurry the coffee.” She hung up phone and slipped on a sheer negligee. Then she went to a dressing table and brushed her long black hair vigorously. Susan wore little make up. She didn't need it. Her skin was like cream and she only wore a light lipstick and makeup to accent her eyes. She was what is often referred to as a raven-haired beauty.
Her full breasts bulged against the soft material of her thin garment. She posed before the mirror, first sideways and then full on. I have one helluva good body, she thought. No wonder men go for me the way they do. I don't blame them. She laughed a little to herself, positive and confident in her charms and abilities.
By the time John was getting out of the bath, having shaved and showered, there was a knock at the door of the sitting room and Susan went to answer it, closing the bedroom door behind her.
She opened the door and a handsome young German lad appeared with a tea cart and the coffee and toast. He just stood in the doorway, with his mouth agape and face flushed purple.
“What's the matter?” Susan asked. “Are you ill? Please come in.” She was concerned. She couldn't imagine what was the matter with him.
He gulped, “Yes madame. Your food.” He pushed the cart into the room and began setting up two places at the table. Susan watched him and she caught him glimpse at her and then turn his head quickly back to his work. He dropped a spoon, then a cup.
He looked quickly to Susan and apologized profusely for his clumsiness and blushed again. Susan wondered how old he was. She asked him.
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