Blond Beautiful Boys Of Basel Lubed with Precum

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.

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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 lover, 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 tongue into his ass one final time. He collapsed 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 lubricated 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 reverberating from the other. We held onto each other and talked quietly 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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