Chapter 1
Checking into the Kong Frederick Hotel in Copenhagen, Jenny Morrison had little thought other than she was with her husband on a glorious honeymoon. They had flown from the States directly to Paris and had spent a week sight-seeing and eating in the very best restaurants. From Paris, it had been Rome, after Rome, they had flown to London. It was a mad, giddy whirlwind with no expenses shirked, since her newly acquired father-in-law had been most generous and had left them with the admonition that they were to spend all of the money having a good time.
Her husband, Fred, had a good job, the house they would move into when they returned to Ohio had a down payment and reasonable mortgage payments, so there wasn't a reason in the world why they couldn't enjoy themselves and, for once in their lives, squander a little money. Her father-in-law had embraced her warmly at the airport and said, "Now you two have a good time. Do a few reckless things. I certainly hope you do, but, who knows? You may never get another opportunity like this again. So live it up!" He was never to know just how much they were to put his advice into practice.
Jenny knew next to nothing about Copenhagen. Dimly, in her mind, she remembered something about a man going there to have a sex change operation. Or was it Sweden? It didn't really matter to her. She remembered wondering at the time just how a man could be changed into a woman. Being very young, and uneducated in such things, she had quickly dismissed it from her mind and turned to more important things; like dating boys.
Because she never read papers or bothered to listen to the news on TV, Jenny wasn't at all informed about the nature of pornography in Denmark; to her, it was just another country to visit on a perfect honeymoon. She visited each place with an eye for details, trying to remember everything so that she could tell her girl friends all about it when they got back.
Fred Morrison wasn't so naive. He knew of Denmark and its liberal view of pornography and had contrived to change their itinerary once they got to Paris. Jenny didn't mind. Since they had checked into the hotel, Fred's mind had been racing feverishly. Living in a small town in Ohio, running the local Community Chest and being a member of the Rotarians, and holding a position with his father's Chevy franchise had never offered him the opportunity to get near or see much pornography. His family had a name and reputation to uphold in the community, something he had been aware of ever since he was old enough to understand. This honeymoon was a golden opportunity to satisfy a craving that had been bottled up in him since puberty. Like any other normal American male, he was curious. Like any other normal American male, he was more than curious, since it had been denied him by government censorship, he was panting to get a look at "what went on" in Copenhagen.
In their room, he left Jenny to unpack and freshen up and told her he was going to the desk to get maps, information, and perhaps acquire the services of a guide while they were there. He agreed they would meet in the bar in an hour.
He fairly sprinted out of the lobby and stood on the curb, waving for a taxi. He had no concrete plan in mind, just the desire to find some pornography.
It wasn't hard to find. No sooner was he settled in the cab than the driver turned to him and said in broken English, "American? Like see some movies? I know good place. Pretty expense. Money. Can take other places, less money."
His face flushed, yet grateful he was spared the embarrassment of asking, Fred waved his hand and nodded. "No, no, that first place you mentioned will do if it isn't too far away."
The driver grinned, all teeth. "No, it not far. Just down here."
A few blocks and the cab veered to the curb. Fred paid and tipped generously and looked around. A store, with the windows painted black was all that he saw on the block. The driver, leaning out of the cab, nodded, "See? Go in. Nice inside. Want me for to wait?"
Checking his watch again, then looking at the store front which now seemed sinister and grim, Fred thought it wouldn't be a bad idea. He nodded. "Yeah, that's not a bad idea. I won't be too long."
As he opened the door and entered the store, Fred Morrison's mind was full of conflicting thoughts. He wasn't really a swinging person and had no thought or idea of cheating on his bride. He rationalized that this was a once-in-a-lifetime thing, that he was, by virtue of his masculinity, entitled to view such a scene, that he knew of many a friend who had had a 'stag' night prior to getting married. It wasn't, he told himself, as if he were going to cheat on his wife; all he was going to do was see some movies that might, should Jenny come along, embarrass her. If anyone had asked him if he believed in the double standard, he would have denied it. But, at this moment, the double standard was too convenient to dismiss.
It is impossible to imagine what Fred expected to see when he stepped into the store: a harem scene, a Roman orgy in full swing, a giant screen depicting all kinds of perversions. Instead, all he saw was a small room with a counter and behind the counter, a bright eyed, smiling, young girl with blond hair and blue eyes who beamed at him and said, "Hello. Can I help you?"
Fred would have much preferred a man, any man, even a greasy man who talked out of the side of his mouth and leered about the movie he had to offer. Looking at the young attractive girl, his face reddened, grew a deep, crimson as he noticed that she had a low cut wool blouse on that revealed the snowy hillocks of her breasts almost down to the nipples.
The nipples! Fred swallowed hard as he realized she wasn't wearing anything under the flimsy wool and her nipples pressed forward, imprinting themselves as if they were yearning to be free. The girl, sensing his stare, put her elbows on the counter and cupped her chin in her hands, leaning forward so that her breasts were squeezed provocatively up between her arms. They bunched together and jellied out of the blouse, one pink nipple breaking free as Fred caught his breath and tried not to stare. "You want to see the movie?" she asked in a light voice with a lyrical accent.
"Huh? Yeah, well, I thought I might. Just look, you know. Can't stay too long."
The girl bit her tongue mischievously. She had had many experiences with naive Americans. This one was younger and cuter than most. "All right," she said, looking at his tall frame and handsome face, "You must pay me then I'll show you inside. The movie is on but you can stay as long as you like."
"Okay, but I'll only stay a little while," Fred said as he fumbled for his wallet, still not taking his eyes from her exposed breast. He wished she wouldn't look at him with that sexy smirk.
He paid her and the girl handed him the change then said, "I'll show you inside, it's very dark and it takes a while to get used to it."
"Oh, you needn't bother," Fred said, his face flushing again as the girl came out from behind the counter, her breast still sticking out, quivering with each step she took. She was wearing a micro-miniskirt and Fred saw she had shapely well-developed legs.
"I'd better bother," the girl laughed, "else you might be stumbling over some bodies and find yourself in the middle of something you're not ready for."
"What?" Fred asked, rooted to the spot. They were standing in front of a curtain and Fred had thought -- or imagined -- he was entering some sort of small theatre with rows of seats. "What do you mean?" he asked, apprehension on his face.
The girl stood facing him, her back to a curtained doorway, and laughed. "You Americans! There is nothing to be afraid of. Not a thing! It is an informal atmosphere we try for. There are couches and pillows on the floor. Some of our customers like to watch the films lying down." She winked and giggled. "Come on," she urged, taking his hand, "I'll see that you're seated."
Taking her hand and stepping into the darkness beyond the curtain, Fred thought, my God, the boys back home will never believe this!
Just the touch of her hand, the mere thought of this beautiful young girl leading him in the dark with one breast plainly exposed to view was enough to arouse him mightily. Fred's sexual exploits prior to meeting Jenny had been average: much dating, heavy petting, few actual incidents of intercourse, many lonely nights tossing restlessly in bed, dreaming of things he'd like to do. Once, while in the Navy, he had visited Tijuana and a whorehouse and had done things he had felt guilty about for months afterwards.
When he had met Jenny, it had been tacitly agreed, from the start, by parents and friends, that this was the girl he was to marry. They were of the same age and background and everyone seemed to approve. He treated her with a growing respect and never once, during their long engagement, had he seen her dressed in anything less than a bathing suit.
Not even on their wedding night, in a Paris hotel, did he see her totally naked. Her figure was, as a friend once said, "Devastating." And when she had come out of the bathroom in her flimsy nightgown, Fred had almost groaned aloud. Her breasts were too beautiful to believe; rich, ripe, jutting out above her slim waist and lovely hips. All he had was a brief glimpse of her loveliness then the light was out and they were groping frantically. She was a virgin and he hurt her and she had cried. Although he liked to think of the first night as tender and warm, he could not completely shut out a feeling of disappointment. It was not what he had hoped for.
The ensuing nights of their honeymoon were not much better. Each lovemaking was over too quickly. And always, the lights were out and both of them felt awkward and self-conscious. Never, afterwards, did they discuss what had happened. Waking the next morning, they greeted each other and talked as if nothing had happened the night before.
Now, Fred found himself being guided by this young teasing girl through the dark, looking down at his feet and being unable to see much but dark vague forms. He glanced at the screen and saw white naked forms moving. The girl turned, took both his hands and stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, her body almost touching his. Fred reacted and pulled away.
"No!" she whispered. "There is a couch right behind you. Sit down."
Automatically, he sat, sinking onto a soft and comfortable couch. The girl released his hands and moved to one side, sitting down beside him, leaning again, too close, to whisper in his ear, "I'll just stay to see if you're comfortable."
Hastily, Fred turned to whisper in her ear, finding, instead, her cherry mouth only an inch from his. "You dont have to!" he blurted.
"It's all right. You Yanks say, it's okay, no? I'll just stay. I haven't seen this one yet and I'll look at it a little. A bell will ring if anyone comes in." She reached and patted his knee as Fred flinched and the girl giggled, enjoying his discomfort. There was something very fresh and appealing about this particular American to her. He wasn't like most of them. Most were fat and middle-aged and impatient about things.
Fred sank back on the couch, glad for the anonymity the darkness allowed him, wishing the girl wouldn't sit so close to him. The only sound in the room was the whirring of the projector as the film slid smoothly through the sprockets. On the wall they were facing was a screen and now he was looking at a close-up of bare legs. Lovely bare legs of a girl, long and shapely and a hairy masculine hand was caressing them. He caught his breath again as the camera panned up, up along her long curving thighs, on up, up higher still until, incredibly, he was seeing a close-up of her mound of Venus covered with softly curling pubic hair.
Fred stared bug-eyed as he watched the masculine hands gently caress the smooth nakedness of her belly, saw a face, in profile, lean down into camera range and a wet tongue lick the hair. Then, like a fox terrier,, the face burrowed into her flesh, got lost in the pubic hair and forced its way downward, spreading her eagerly cooperating legs.
Then the camera pulled back and Fred was breathing heavily through his nostrils as he saw a naked man and woman on the bed. His eyes darted everywhere. The man was crouched above the woman, on his knees, hairy and naked, his penis huge and erect. The woman lay sprawled on the bed, nude, lascivious, with her legs spread wide and her huge breasts spread apart. Her eyes were closed and her mouth half open in an ecstatic smile. She was breathing heavily and, as he watched, her hips began to roll and undulate, thrusting upward with her legs spreading farther apart with each undulation.
The camera cut to the bottom of the bed and Fred felt his own cock bulging under his clothing as he saw her cunt. As he watched, the girl's hand stole down to her vagina and her fingers massaged her pubic hair then two fingers slowly spread her vaginal lips and revealed the moist glistening slit of her cunt as she began to grind with her hips, her other hand groping for and finding the back of the man's head and pulling him down.
The girl sitting closer now next to him took his perspiring hand in hers and squeezed it, Fred barely noticing and too absorbed by the film to pay much attention. The man was licking the cunt now, running his tongue up and down the whole length of it, something that Fred had always wanted to do, something that he had heard of, but never had the nerve to do. It was too lewd, too vile, too wanton and pagan; and yet, right now, it was almost too exciting to watch! Fred felt and heard himself grunt as he watched the man, with a slow lewdness, with a coldblooded calculation, slowly sink his tongue into the cunt as far as it would go. With his mouth open and dry, Fred watched as the girl on the screen pulled her legs as far apart as possible, her knees up by her breasts and threw her head back in wild abandon and bliss as she thrust her hips up.
The man had both of her lovely wide buttocks cupped in his hands now and was tilting them up and slowly running his tongue in and out of her moist cunt as the camera pulled in closer.
Closer still, closer until all that could be seen was her soft cunt lips lined with pubic hair and his red tongue sinking in, too, slowly out of sight. Fred groaned and shifted on the couch. His own cock was bulging now and felt uncomfortable under all his clothing. He couldn't tear his eyes from the screen or pay attention to the girl sitting next to him as she leaned her weight against him and again slowly pressed his hand.
The camera pulled back and watched as the girl began thrashing about on the bed, her arms flung out and grasping bits of the sheet in bunches, her face contorted by the ecstasy she was feeling. Fred watched as she began grinding her hips faster and wilder, the man's tongue darting in and out now, the two of them building to a climax where the man opened his mouth wide and covered her cunt with his lips and sucked hungrily at it. The girl in the picture opened her mouth wide and her feet came down on the bed and she pushed her hips upwards, lifting her whole body off the bed except for her neck and feet and writhed around as the man held firm and sucked as hard as he could as she bucked and turned while the man gripped her waist in his strong arms. The girl's eyes were wide-open now and wild, the cords and veins in her neck were standing out.
"Ah, that Arne," the girl next to Fred murmured.
Distracted, Fred turned, "What?"
"That Arne. He is the devil," the girl chuckled in a low voice.
"You know him?!" Fred asked, astounded.
"That is, how you Americans say, putting it mildly, No?"
Fred looked at her thunderstruck that she should know the man in the picture. "Him? You know him?"
The girl laughed. "And why shouldn't I?"
"I dunno." Fred shook his head. It was all too much to believe.
The girl squeezed his hand and pointed at the screen again, leaning closer to whisper, "Watch what happens." Fred could feel her soft bare breast against his arm.
He looked back at the screen. The girl was wild, tensing her body against an orgasm and, with a mighty effort, Arne, sensing what was happening to her, pulled free. A great collective, "Ahhh," came out of the darkness in the room around the couch that Fred was seated on.
Although there was no sound to the film, they could literally feel the scream of rage and frustration that came from the girl's throat as Arne pulled away. She sat upon the bed and glared at him with smoky lascivious eyes. Like a cat, she was on him, flinging her arms around him and sticking her tongue in his mouth, her body pressing up against his and writhing, glistening in the camera light. She moved more like an animal than a human: wanton, sweating, sinuous, eager to recapture an orgasm that had almost been hers.
As Fred watched, she slid down Arne's chest, her tongue licking the nipples on his chest, her teeth taking little love bites. Fred watched, his breath shallow and fast, as he saw her tongue lick all over his stomach, saw her hand grasp his thick erect cock and lovingly stroke it, saw her tongue and open mouth licking near to it; nearer, closer as Arne sat back on his haunches and grinned down to watch what the girl was doing. The expression on his face told the viewers that he was going to enjoy this.
The camera slowly closed in for a close-up of the girl's face. Her eyes were closed and that same blissful smile was on her lips again as she slowly squeezed the cock. Fred was amazed by the size of the cock. It seemed at least an inch and a half thick and was close to nine inches long. He watched, his face feverish, as the girl slowly pulled back the foreskin and the camera leaned in close to see the massive mushroom head blossom out.
The girl next to him was stroking his thigh now with her free hand and he was too excited to stop her or tear his yes from the screen. His own cock was bulging bigger and he spread his legs to allow it more room and the girl next to him, her head on his shoulder, whispered, "Have you ever seen anything like this before?"
All Fred could do was shake his head in a negative fashion and go on watching as the girl's pink wet tongue slowly came out and licked the very tip of Arne's cock and Fred moaned. Beside him, the girl whispered in his ear, her hand slipping at the same time to caress the inside of his thigh, "I'm told it gets much better. Watch."
Watch was all that Fred could do. He forgot all about time, about his young bride, Jenny, back at the hotel. He was in a wicked heat. He was horny and didn't care about anything except seeing more of Arne and the girl.
He sat forward, watching. Once, in Tijuana, a whore had offered to make "French love," but, because she wasn't really attractive and because he was vaguely afraid of some kind of disease, he had refused, even though he had wanted to. He had daydreamed and wet-dreamed of such a thing happening but never thought he would actually be watching it with a beautiful young girl sitting next to him!
It seemed that a thousand thoughts rushed to his mind all at once: he wondered what time it was and felt a strong anxiety to get back to the hotel, he wondered what the girl, whose name he didn't even know, next to him, wanted from him? Why was she paying attention to him? Was she a whore? Or was she attracted to him? What kind of morals must she have to sit next to him? pressed against him, stroking his thigh with one lovely (he could see it out of the corner of his eye) breast, its nipple now hardened and pointed. What kind of girl was she? How far could he go? And the movie!
Fred sat watching, trying hard to act calm as he saw the girl's saliva-moistened tongue roll lasciviously around Arne's cock, slowly wetting it. Then, his heart thumping hard, he watched as the girl slowly sank her mouth and full, bee-stung lips over Arne's cock and let it slide slowly into her mouth as the girl next to him slowly and lightly let her hand fall on Fred's bulging crotch. "My God!"
"You like?" the girl whispered in a voice that Fred was barely able to hear.
Fred sat staring at the screen, watching the girl beginning a rhythmical sucking up and down the bulging shaft of Arne's cock and he felt the girl's hand feeling for his own rigid ramming prick and he never had felt more sinful or excited. A wild exciting sense of irresponsibility coursed through him. Always, ever since he could remember, he had been responsible to someone or something. Now, the wanton lewd idea and feeling swept over him like heavy syrup. For once, just once, in his whole life, he felt like giving in and behaving lewdly. It would be so easy.
Now Arne, up on the screen had reached down with his two hands and entwined his fingers in the girl's thick hair and held her head steady, in place, as he slowly began fucking in and out of her widely ovaled mouth in long easy strokes, her lipstick-rimmed lips locked tightly around his sliding instrument.
Fred closed his eyes as he felt the girl's hand beginning to unzip his fly. He leaned back and lay on the couch motionless as he felt the girl stop his zipper halfway down and grope through his underwear and he felt her hand take the head of his cock into her palm and squeeze. And Fred moaned aloud and opened his eyes to see Arne forcing the girl back, bending her back way down until her head touched the bed. The girl, still on her knees, lay back with her back arching way over, her two hands holding onto Arne's cock as he began to fuck in and out of her mouth with savage strength.
The girl had Fred's cock out now, and, as he shifted his eyes, he saw her lean forward and rub the nipple of her breast over the head of his cock. With another low moan, Fred shifted his eyes back to the screen. Arne was now pulling his cock out of the girl's mouth and the girl was fighting to suck it some more as if her life depended on it.
Arne fought his way down to where he had his arms tight around her waist. The girl, sensing what he wanted to do, ground her body into his, their mouths locked in a wide-open lewd embrace, and threw her legs wide and thrust her hips up, eager, dying to fuck.
The girl had begun to slowly masturbate Fred while looking at his face with an amused lascivious grin. Fred could only moan, he was powerless to move. His mind raced ahead to how far they could go while his eyes watched the screen and the two figures fucking into each other with all the violence and energy they could summon. Other people were coming onto the bed now, other couples, naked, embracing. Dreamily Fred watched, feeling his cock growing harder and bigger than ever before while the young blonde girl continued to stroke his prick with her hand.
The girl took her hand away briefly to wet it with her tongue then started stroking Fred's cock again. It slipped back and forth lewdly and Frsd felt he might come righL then, shoot out over the cushions and customers.
Then the bell rang
The beil outside rang, signifying someone had come in and Fred sat stiffly up. fuli of fear at being caught and a raging auger at b«ing interrupted. The girl made a face, clucked her tongue and shrugged her shoulders. "I've got to go, darn it." She kissed her fingertips then pat ted his cock with them. "I won't be gone long!"
Fred sat stiffly erect in the dark, looking at the screen and working his cock back into his pants. My God, he thought, of all the times for an interruption! Three couples were now on the bed and, as Fred watched, his mouth open, they were switching back and forth. Arne was now fucking a blonde girl that looked very much like the girl who was taking tickets and had been sitting next to him! Now he pulled away from her and turned to a third girl who was sucking his cock while another man, a dark man, was fucking her. Something about the girl reminded him of someone he knew. Jenny! It wasn't Jenny but it looked enough like her to remind him that she was still alive and back at the hotel!
He held his wrist next to his face in order to see the time by his watch. He was late! He had to leave! And, if the taxi wasn't there, he would be later still!
He zipped up his fly and was up and stumbling through the cushions and out from behind the curtain before he could think. The girl was behind the counter, flirting with a middle-aged customer. She raised her eyebrows and made a pouty expression with her mouth. "Oh? Leaving1 so soon?"
Fred, still excited, his face flushed, stammered, "I... I... have to. Engagement, I mean, that is, I have to meet someone."
The girl came out from behind the counter and the customer, feeling self-conscious, went through the curtain. "Oh? I'm so sorry. Perhaps you'll come again?"
"Maybe," Fred said, his hand on the door.
"My name is Sigrid Unser. What is yours?"
"Jim Smith," Fred lied, fearing, for some unknown reason, giving her his real name. Perhaps he felt he had done something wrong, that he had, in some way, been unfaithful to Jenny and he didn't want her to know it.
"Nice to meet you, Jeem," Sigrid said, lowering her eyes. "And, the next time, if you'll give me a little notice, perhaps we can get together and not be disturbed. Perhaps we can get together, no?"
Fred shrugged. "We'll see." The wicked prospect of being alone with someone completely hedonistic like Sigrid excited him but he fought to hide the feeling.
"Perhaps," Sigrid said as he opened the door, her voice low and honeyed, "If you have a girl friend we can all get together with Arne."
Fred stepped out and shut the door and stood staring at it. Arne! What kind of immoral perverted girl was she? What did she have in mind?
Fred turned from the door in a stupor. The cab was still waiting. He got in and nodded dumbly to the driver who drove him back to the hotel.
It would take another whole novel to say all that was in Fred's mind as he drove back to the hotel. It is enough to say that his thoughts were lewd and wild. He felt as if he were a different human being, a new person and, although he had yet to admit it, he was already forming some plans for their stay in Copenhagen.
His hands were actually trembling as he lit a cigarette. What had his father said, way back there in Ohio? Live it up. Fred settled back in the cab and smoked, a slight grin on his lips, a slow boiling sensation in his groin.