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Boys of Basel (mm)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: Boys of Basel
Date: Tue, 6 Jul 1993 02:47:49 GMT
I had enjoyed Munich very much, I had met quite a number of big Tutonic
boys, but it was time to move on. I had been in Europe for a couple of weeks
already, and I had to make a stop in Basel, Switzerland as I had promised
some friends back in Ann Arbor that I would. The trip across northern
Alp ranges in southern Germany was pleasant. It was late spring,
yet there was still a fair amount of snow cover, even in the valleys. The
trip was uneventful as well until the train approached the Lake Constance area
where Germany, Austria, and Switzerland dovetail. Somewhere near Lindau in
Germany, but just at the Austrian border I noticed two undercover German
police board the train - even in Germany, undercover cops are spottable. They
all seem to have that dark, solid colored, unadorned, dented Chevy look. Pretty
soon, they were up and down the aisles of the train cars, with a typical
German efficiency, harrassing anyone they thought to be a subversive.
Fortunately, that did not include me. Even though I stood out on this train
in an incredible way - like a Royal Palm in the midst of a Pine forest - I
guessed some characteristics of my standing out warranted leaving me alone.
As a nattily attired, 6'2", 189lb black man, they probably assumed that: (1)
I was probably an American; and (2) that I was in the military. One was
certainly correct, but not two. I was just an American graduate student
sopping up some of Europe on a well deserved vacation by myself (I've always
enjoyed traveling alone). Eventually, the train got past that few miles at
the bottom of Lake Constance which passes through a corner of Austria, yet
it does not stop in Austria. St. Margarethen, Switzerland, at last, was
a relief following the scrutiny of the efficient German police state.
From the German-Austrian-Swiss border on into St. Gallen, Wil,
Winterhur, and Zurich, the clumsy Duetsch Bundesbund picked up young men,
soldiers - complete with their standard issue Swiss Army Knives. They were
all on their way home for the weekend having been away in the middle of
their reserve training. This was important as timing was going to prove
very important for me. I was to meet Walter (Valter) in Basel as he
returned from training. And, I had never even seen Walter before. He could
have been sitting next to me on the train. Walter was a very good friend of
my best boyfriend back in Ann Arbor. I was counting on Walter to put me up
for the weekend and perhaps show me some of Basel.
The trip from Basel to Zurich was relatively short (about an hour), and it
appeared that they are both actually one city as one spills up and down the
hills and mountains and into the next. The Banhoff in Basel was too large to
be called quaint, but too small to be thought of in other ways. Now, the test.
Would Walter be at home. No! I stored my luggage and decided to hang out in
Grossen Basel to kill time hoping that Walter would show up. Later that
evening I did get an answer at Walter's, his Grandmutter. As best she could
she told me she did not expect Walter this weekend, and I wondered if she reall
y understood my halting, on-again off-again Deutsch? "Well, great" I thought,
"what do I do now?" Fortunately, I had thought about contingencies in the
event that I could not track Walter down and I had earlier spotted a nice,
cheap hostel on a very quaint street in Klinen Basel shortly after arriving.
It was clean, pleasant, quite comfortable, and more importantly, only about
$10 U.S.
My hotel, as it turned out, was only about a block away from a gay bar
called the "Sombero." "Yeah, right," that's what I thought too, "A Sombero
in the outer reaches of the Black Forest. Give me a break."
I was very pleasantly suprised once I entered the Sombero. It was rather
large, not at all unattractive - although not Halsted-Chicago or West Holly-
wood (L.A.) ready - and packed with mostly German speaking, blond, blue-eyed,
healthy Swiss boys. To the extent that I had stood out on the train snaking
through the mountains, in this bar, in this city, in this country, I suddendly
knew what it meant to be exotic. Very quickly, I was more than comfortable,
ordered einen bier, and started to groove on the funkiest American house
mixes which were all the rage all over Europe. I was leaning against one of
the bars watching everyone in the bar watching me; I was so amused I could
hardly believe this. Pretty soon, three beers had been sent to me from
around the room, and it was not always clear from whom. The bartender would
try to point out who sent each beer, but that did not always work. The bar-
tender, who had now become my confident, or agent provocatuer, even brought
me a message from the owner of the bar who regretted that he could not meet
me at the moment because he had to leave on an emergency, inviting me to
diner the next day.
Well, I had to make a decision. I wanted to get laid, and here was an
entire bar that seemed interested in getting into my pants. The boys I
focused upon were the boldest ones, the ones who were unabashedly staring
at me. Very quickly I narrowed the field down to four, then two. I felt
like Madeline Kahn in the Mel Brooks film in the scene where she's choosing
an escort for the orgy. "No, no, no, uhm. No, yes, no." The two finalist
seemed to confirm my notion that I had gotten into a rut; they were both
very blond with short, cropped curls, at least 6' or slightly taller,
relatively slim, yet clearly muscularly defined, somewhat narrow faces
- the Steve Hammond look. They both knew they were being "sized up," yet
they probably were unaware of the other as they were on opposite sides of the
room. I mentally undressed them both, thinking about their firm hairless
bodies, their tight butts, their pouting lips, and wondered what it would
be like to fuck both these guys with my 8.5" black dick. I tried to imagine
their lips, their mouths completely around the base of the 6" circumference of
my dick. Maybe I'd kneel over one's face and have him rim my ass as the other
took all my dick down his throat. By this time I had an incredible erection,
and my blond boyfriend nearest me was certainly aware of it as he adjusted
his position against the wall upon which he had been leaning and briefly
brushed a hand against his erection which was clearly visible in his light
colored jeans.
About the time we start to tease each other with erections, there was
no question that the "YEESSS" (as Madeline Kahn finally screamed) walked
in. For myself, the room stood still and my dick got harder. This boy was
so perfect. He was blond as well, about 6'2", exactly my height (I've always
been partial to that). Even though he was blond, he was somewhat darker than
the others, his skin as well as his very curly hair. He also had a good deal
more muscular definition than the others (more like an American). It was clear
that he had somewhat of a cheering section as a good portion of the patrons in
the bar seemed to know him, or at least wanted to know him. He was the fairest
of the group, their celebrity, their prince. As he chatted with some of his
friends, he turned and focused upon me very intensely. My guess was that
someone mentioned to him that he should take a look see. And look the fair
prince did.
I did not want my other blond buddy to feel reject as we'd invested
a certain level of lust in our "relationship" up to that point, so I continued
to let him know that he had one foot in the door. But, the Sombero Prince
was very sure-footed and quickly made his way to my side. I thought this kid
was beautiful and he was clearly hot to trot. He was even more beautiful up
close than he had been from across the room in subdued light. His name was
Thomas Heidegger - and for those of you who are interested, yes, it is "that"
Heidegger, as in Martin Heidegger of SEIN UND ZEIT, and a mentor to Sartre -
a great grandson of Martin Heidegger. I was not particularly interested in
Thomas' politics or philosophy, but his body and personality did strike me
as quite politically correct. I wanted him badly, and the desire was clearly
mutual; we agreed to go to my hotel. As Thomas went across the room to speak
to a friend before we left,my once and past blond prize came over to speak to
me. We were both disappointed because I did want him (I was like a kid in a
pet shop), and he clearly wanted me to want him. He said "I just vanted to
meet you. I think you are beautiful. I vant you badly and I vanted you
to know. Also, I vant to touch you." I put my arm around his waist, rubbed
his chest lightly with my other hand, and kissed him gently on the cheek.
Willy (he had mentioned his name) reached very casually, in such a way that
others might not notice, into my pants and boxer shorts, found my erect 8.5"
dick, and gently slid the foreskin back from its head. As I looked into his
face, he closed his eyes briefly, smiled seductively, rolled his tongue over
his lips, and swayed into me as he continued to hold onto my erect dick. The
moment was over. At a loss for something to say, I said, "give me your phone
number" as if I would be around in the future to use it. He was more than
happy to oblige, scribbled his name, address, and number of a napkin, and was
gone. Thomas was back the instant Willy disappeared, and we headed up the
block to my hotel.
Luigi Barazini has described Europeans by drawing an analogy between
Heaven adn Hell. "Heaven is a French cook, and English policeman, a German
mechanic, an Italian lovr, and the Swiss organizing it all." He said "Hell
is a French mechanic, an English cook, a German policeman, a Swiss lover,
and an Italian organizing it all." Clever, yes. Some truth in the stereo-
types, probably. But, in the case of my Swiss boyfriend, Thomas Heidegger -
the Sombrero Prince - he probably could have taught a few Italians some
lessons in la dolche vita.
Thomas and I were completely comfortable with each other as we both undres
sed as soon as we got into my room. I stretched out on the goose-down filled
comforter and pulled Thomas onto me. Our bodies intertwined with each other
we kissed langorously, and I felt his substantial dick snake its way up my
crotch and onto my stomach where it took its place alongside mine. Thomas
was indeed beautiful. We both could not seem to get enough of the other's
neck, ears, mouth, eyes. I soaked him in and felt soaked into him. Thomas
was fascinated by my hair. He thought it was so soft; he could never seem to
get at least one hand away from it. Eventually, Thomas began to work his way
down my body as he rose to his knees between my legs. His tongue found my
nipples and he nursed at them. He kneeded my very developed pectorals and
told me how beautiful he though my chest was. He lifted my left arm and nibble
d at the downy hair in the arm pit. And, he found my massive erection with his
other hand; he did not have to reach far as it was searching for him. As he
lifted his mouth from a nipple, and as he was slowly sliding the thin layer of
foreskin up and down over the pre-cum lubed head of my dick Thomas said, "you
are very beeg, is it true that all American black men have very big dicks?"
I asked him, "Is that what you heard?" He answered "Yes, that is vhat I have
heard, and every guy in the bar tonight vanted you." I told him I could not
speak for all black American men, and that actually, the largest erect dick I
had ever encountered was attached to a white American friend of mine.
As Thomas continued to dip further and further toward my crotch with
his tongue, I reached around and found his dick. Thomas had an elegant, uncut
dick which was about 7.5" in length and perhaps 5" in circumference. His dick
was extending outward, parallel to his stomach, with his hairless balls
dangling down behind. I rolled the silkly foreskin back on this alabaster
tool to reveal an apple shaped head which was glistening with strings of pre-
cum. I took his balls into my hand, gently squeezing them, and ran my finger
up the crack of his but. He moaned and lowered his mouth onto the head of my
purple-headed, pre-cum lubed shining dick. He swirled his tongue around in the
pre-cum and said "you taste gute." As he began to massage th fat sack of my
balls he developed a rapid rhythm which allowed him to take my dick all the
way down his throat so that his lips rested in the hair around the base of my
dick. He did this for about ten minutes, bringing me to the brink at least
three times and stopping. I continued to massage his alabaster dick in my
hand, jacking his feverishly, then gently when his dick would become most
rigid in preparation of an ejaculation. Eventually, I pulled Thomas into a
sixety-nine position, me on my back, with Thomas on his knees and his dick
hanging down over my face. I started with his balls, taking them into my mouth
as I jacked on his dick. He did the same to me. I also stuck my tongue into
Thomas' anus. He did the same to me. I alternated,moving my tougue from
being buried deep into his ass, to his balls, to the head of his dick. Thomas
matched my motions. Eventually, Thomas decided he had to have my cum, so he
devoted all this attention to my dick. I continued to work on his ass with
my tongue as I jacked him off.
The Sombero Prince blew me away; I exploded into his mouth with jets of
cum. He took it all into his mouth and throat. My dick continued to stay
erect in Thomas's mouth,however, and he gently sucked on it, milking it for
more cum. This very sensuous action drove Thomas to the brink. He shot an
incredible load of cum onto my chest and stomach as I rammed my tougue into his
ass one final time. He collasped onto my chest, still holding onto my dick,
and my taking his alabaster cum coated dick into my mouth. We stay in that
position for several minutes. Thomas eventually rolled around to face me; we
kissed and kissed, and kissed more as we let our bodies slide against the other
, enjoying the feel of our cum.
This sensuality did not take long to work its magic as in the exploring
of each others' body, we both found new erections. Thomas found some hand
lotion on the night stand and liberally coated my dick with it. This almost
sent me over the edge again and I had to hold his hand such that he would not
make me cum. Neither of us wanted me to cum that way. He asked me to
lubricate his ass. I was more than happy to do so, eventually getting three
well lubircated fingers into his ass. Thomas wanted my dick inside his ass
and so did I. He sat straddled my crotch and aimed by throbbing erection at
his beautiful ass. It was not as difficult to enter as I had anticipated,yet
it did take about three or four minutes for Thomas to adjust to having my
dick in his ass. Over the course of the three-to-four minutes, Thomas worked
the entire length of my dick into himself so that his ass cheeks were firmly
planted around the base of my dick. His ass felt hot, tight, yet soft and
pliable all at once. As I started to gently pump up into him, I realized
I had not touched his dick, yet it was a hard as a rock with strings of
pre-cum dripping onto my stomach. This was such an erotic setting and
experience, I just marveled at this beautiful Swiss boy riding my dick.
I grabbed the cheeks of Thomas' ass, spread them as far apart as
possible, and grooved on the sound of my dick sliding into his well lubed
shute. He leaned over and kissed me passionately; we were making love.
In that position Thomas' alabaster cock actually began to slide between
my pectoral muscles. Both of use were aware of the sensuousness of this
so I grabbed his dick and pressed it into my chest, using his foreskin to
drive him to the brink. This drove me to the brink first as I thrust into
Thomas' bowels, shooting my load. I came for a long time, yet my dick stayed
very hard. As we were gyrating, my dick slipped out of his shute, but he
reached behind himself and guided it back into his now cum-lubed shute.
His ass was milking my dick. This drove Thomas to the brink. As I kissed
him, squeezed a nipple, and jacked on his dick, he started to shoot cum
all over my chest, jet after jet. Some of his cum even landed on the side
of my face and lips. Thomas fell onto my chest and we stayed in that position
with my dick still lodged in his ass for quite some time. Eventually, Thomas'
legs got a little tired so he stretched out along side me, our bodies
reveberating from the other. We held onto each other and talked quitely
about how good the other felt, Ann Arbor, the University of Michigan,
Switzerland, Paris, Chicago, and Milan. Both of us drifted off to sleep
with me wondering should I stay in Basel for a while, or should I head south
to Milan and investigate if Barazini was correct about Italian lovers. And
I chuckled a little wondering what old Herr Heidegger would think if he could
see Thomas holding onto my ebony dick and I held onto his alabaster one.
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