Chapter 5
When Bob accepted the invitation to attend Herr Schroeder's party, he had thought it was to be a friendly get-together between members of his group from the United States and some businessmen who would prove to be valuable contacts in Germany. How wrong he was.
No German businessmen were invited, but there were plenty of German business girls. One for every American, as a matter-of-fact.
Bob had been missing Nancy a great deal, and not only in a spiritual sense. Each morning he had awakened with his penis rigidly erect, throbbing for enclosure in a warm and slippery cunt.
But there was no cunt for him to slip it into.
This was largely a matter of choice on his part, since commercial cunt was obviously easy to get in Frankfurt. He had spotted it on the streets and in the two or three bars he had visited. In one of the bars he had been solicited. But he had turned down all opportunities.
Nancy was the only girl he wanted, and since he couldn't have her cunt, he was determined to get along without any cunt at all.
But then he was invited to Herr Schroeder's party ... and a girl named Lisette did a dance.
Of course, a lot of liquor came first, accompanied by general merriment as the half-dozen lonesome Americans mingle-in a very relaxed way with the girls Herr Schroeder had invited. And Herr Schroeder knew his females-each of them was young and succulent and very eager to please. They were of a caliber which one might have expected to find in a beauty contest of a high-class chorus line in the United States. They certainly were well above the general run of American whores. They were even above the general run of German whores-and those girls Bob had ogled in the Frankfurt bars weren't bad.
The girl who fastened herself to him was an ash-blonde darling named Helga Borman. She spoke excellent English, laughed a lot with a wide sensual mouth, and in her brown eyes there was a promise of rich delight. The body which was packed into her low-cut, clinging gown offered everything a man could possibly want. Her hair was swept high atop her head in a fancy coiffure.
They drank together and danced to recorded music. She pressed her pneumatic curves against his firm, slender body, and Bob's peter itched. If he hadn't exerted his will, it probably would have stiffened out and poked against Helga.
Bob was just under thirty years old, tall and good-looking, with neat brown hair and warm friendly eyes to match.
All around him, the other men who were members of the Dolph Chemical team were enjoying themselves with their dates for the evening. Some were enjoying themselves a great deal. Bob caught glimpses of male hands sneaking down to cup curvaceous female buttocks and other male hands tweaking the tips of lightly clad titties. The girls didn't seem to mind in the least. In fact, they reacted in a positive way to this treatment, leaning closer and rubbing themselves against the men all the more.
Bob began to think about the possibility of laying Helga after the party was over. But he was only toying with the idea at this point. He didn't really intend to try to make her. That would be wrong. It would be cheating on Nancy, something he had never done.
Then Lisette appeared to perform her dance.
Herr Schroeder, a heavy-set, jovial man with slick black hair fringing a bald pate, invited the party-goers to place their chairs in a half-circle at one side of the room. A couple of the men pulled their girls down onto their laps, and others followed suit. Bob had little choice, because Helga literally pushed him backward into his chair and sat down atop him. Her warm, full thighs and soft bottom were a delight as they pressed against him.
Lisette was a gorgeous platinum blonde with the face of a nymphet. Her tall, slim, but voluptuously curved body showed great promise beneath a red lame dress that hugged it like a second skin.
Smiling warmly and with a saucy glint in her eyes, Lisette moved around the open part of the room in time to a slow and sensual instrumental number which Schroeder had put on the record player. She had to take short steps because the gown she wore was confining. However, this did not prove to be a problem for long.
She backed up to Schroeder, and the fat man obligingly opened the long zipper on the back of her gown. She stepped out of the red metallic cloth and was excitingly revealed in sheer stockings, red garter belt, filmy clinging red panties ... and no bra.
Her tits were inverted bowls of quivering white flesh, tipped by small reddish nipples, rigidly erect.
Bob's pecker fattened in his clothes and began to rise against the warm, soft pressure of Helga's ungirdled rear. She felt it right away and turned to smile down into his face. She also wiggled her ass just a little-enough to let him know that she knew he was aroused.
Some of the men made raucous comments. Lisette smiled and pranced slowly to the music, letting her tits quiver and bob. The front of her panties was transparent, making clear the fact that her pubis was completely shaved. The men could see her tempting little crack twisting in its V-shaped mound of fatty tissue, dramatized by the sheer red silk which covered it.
As Bob stared, his rod became very stiff indeed against Helga's bottom. She took his hand in hers and placed it between her stockinged knees.
He looked at her questioningly, and she answered him with her eyes: Feel me up.
Eagerly he slipped his hand upward between her legs. He surmounted the tops of her stockings and she parted her legs a little wider to grant him access to the delightful upper reaches of her thighs.
The flesh of her inner thighs was very warm and silken. To touch it made him tremble and caused his prick to throb in its strict confinement beneath Helga's ass. She twisted slightly, opening her legs even more. As Lisette continued to prance back and forth in front of him, shaking her lovely boobs and twisting her tail in the transparent panties, Bob's questing hand contacted the heated pouch of Helga's silken briefs.
At first, he just stroked up and down the panty crotch, and it was evident that Helga, unlike the girl who paraded in front of him, wasn't shaved. He could feel her mat of rather coarse curls on the other side of the clinging sleek fabric. He also could make out the shape of her puffy vaginal lips and the hot division between them.
His cock throbbed all the more.
His heart beat wildly in his throat.
Lisette now removed her panties and paraded in front of the crowd with nothing on but sheer sandy hose and a red garter belt. Her hairless pussy wiggled as she walked.
Unable to resist the impulse, Bob pulled the crotch of Helga's panties aside and touched her bare cunt.
"Oh, yes, honey," she murmured at his ear. "Stick your finger in."
Gently, he wiggled his middle finger into the soft, hair-lined groove, and he was pleased to discover that Helga was moist. (He didn't know that she was a Lesbian at heart and had been turned on by the beautiful blonde dancer, just as he had been.)
As he stroked his finger up and down inside her crack, she purred, "Oooh, how I wish that was your cock!"
Suddenly Bob froze, even as he burned with erotic arousal. What was this leading to? Had he gone too far to stop?
His finger stopped moving in Helga's cunt.
"What's the matter, baby-bee?" she murmured huskily. "Don't it feel good in there?"
"Yeah," he rasped. "It feels terrific."
She leaned forward and drew his head warmly against the twin round cushions of her bosom. "Let's do something about it," she invited in her soft, charming accent. She leaned closer yet and whispered right against his ear, "I want to screw."
Bob breathed hard, and his pecker twitched. He didn't say anything.
"What's the matter, bay-bee?" Helga challenged. "Don't you want to screw me?"
What could he say? His answer was already pressing against her ass.
So, as Lisette fell to her knees in the middle of the floor and leaned back, spreading her thighs wide and opening her gash so that the men could see into her moist, rosy core, Bob allowed Helga to lead him to an adjoining bedroom.
They had to pick their way past several writhing couples.. Girls' panties were being pulled off. Tits had been let out of gowns. It looked as if some of the couples were going to copulate right there on the floor.
The bedroom offered privacy for the moment.
Bob was very much aware of what he was doing to Nancy, but he made allowances for himself. He was far from home, alone, and painfully in need of sex. Anyway, he hadn't planned to cheat. He had, in fact, planned not to. But he had gotten roped into this crazy party, and that delectable shaved blonde had stripped right down to her buff ... then Helga had practically pulled him into her.
Of course, he wasn't actually in her yet, but he couldn't stop now. He was too excited. Also, it would make him look like a fairy if he didn't follow through.
So really he had no choice, and, therefore, what was about to happen couldn't be considered his fault.
It was a neat bit of rationalization which perfectly fitted his need and made it possible for him to go ahead and enjoy the rest of the evening heartily without being troubled by guilt.
Right after pulling the door closed, Helga removed her dress. Bob began to pull at his own clothes. Nothing had been said since they entered the room. Nothing had to be said. How many times did a beautiful young woman need to announce her eagerness to be laid?
She wore a black bra, cut low at the center so that the fullness of her squeezed-together breasts was revealed. Her garter belt also was black, and she wore it over a very small flesh-colored panty which clung to and perfectly out-lined the rich prize she carried between her legs. Her patch of curly hair was visible through the cloth.
Black stockings adorned legs which were delightfully curved. At their tops, where they were bare, her thighs were plump and soft, yet perfectly smooth.
Bob's cock urged him to move faster in removing his clothes.
Helga took her bra off, and her broad-nippled breasts swung in sensuous freedom. The little rounded buttons at the centers of her wide, pebbly aureoles were tense with excitement, which Bob presumed had been induced by his caressing a few minutes earlier.
Actually, Helga was still thinking about Lisette and what an exquisite baby-smooth body she had. As soon as she got through with this joker, she thought, she would get Herr Schroeder to introduce her to his lovely dancer.
She threw Bob a smile and proceeded to strip off her garter belt and hose. Just as she was finishing, Bob shucked down his knit briefs, and his naked rod bobbed upward, quivering with eagerness to sink itself into the luscious girl. The rosy tip of his pecker had broken through the skin which covered his peckerhead. Helga's gaze dropped to it with apparent eagerness.
"Lie down on the bed," she told him.
He complied, and she moved up to the side of the bed, where she stripped away her bikini panties, baring her hairy box. Bob's rod, standing upright as he lay on his back, jerked spasmodically.
With her eyes trained on this quivering monument to lust, Helga climbed onto the bed. She didn't touch him at first, just sat on her haunches, looking at the rigid shaft of his manhood all the while, as she loosened her elaborate coiffure and let her long ash-blonde hair swing free, cascading past her shoulders and halfway down her back.
Bob hardly dared to hope she would do what he most wanted her to do at the beginning, but he should have known this was one of the principal duties of a girl in her profession.
When she bent forward over his supine form, he caught his breath.
Her cool, soft hand surrounded the base of his throbbing, rigid erection. Then he felt her mouth. With her lips, she pushed back his foreskin, causing the entire raging head of his pecker to slip into her wet, warm, welcoming mouth.
She began to suck gently, moving her lips against his corona as her tongue swabbed the head of his cock, passing back and forth repeatedly across its super-sensitive tip.
Bob tightened from head to toes. He arched his back, shoving his shaft upward and into her mouth more deeply. He clenched his fists and growled in delight.
As she was working on him, the door opened and another couple stumbled drunkenly in. The man was Jerry Grant, one of Bob's co-workers. He let out a yell when he saw what was happening on the bed.
Bob gazed at him through glazed eyes and didn't say a thing. He was beyond embarrassment. There was no room in his sensual consciousness for anything except the rapturous sensation of Helga's talented lips and tongue moving on the swollen head of his prick.
The girl with Jerry, a cuddly little brunette, asked in heavily accented English, "You vant zat, baby?"
"Damned right!" was Jerry's husky reply.
Before Bob's eyes, the girl dropped to her knees, yanking down Jerry's trousers at the same time. She swung his erect tool out of his shorts and immediately wrapped her eager lips around the end of it.
"Man! Maaaan!" Jerry groaned passionately as she worked.
Helga's head was bobbing up and down on Bob's cock, and he had both hands entwined in her silken, tossing hair.
My God, he thought, I'm going to finish this way if she doesn't stop!
But he didn't want her to stop. He wanted her to keep working at him wildly until he just couldn't hold back for another moment, and he would fountain up into her mouth as she continued to suck and draw every last drop of juice from his loins.
Didn't she knew he was that close?
What would she think when it happened?
In spite of his uncertainty on this score, he couldn't force her away from him, and he couldn't say a thing except, "Uuuuh ... uuuuuuh ... uuuuhh!"
It was then that he let go, and the sensation was superb. He was only vaguely aware of watching Jerry standing with widely braced legs, his head thrown back and his hands clenched at his sides, as his girl pleasured him with her mouth. The sense of sight could hardly compete with his glorious sense of touch as Helga's warm, wet mouth clasped him rhythmically, her lips working at the ridge of his twitching dong while his lust-juice gushed forth into her throat.
She took it all, and, when she finally removed her mouth from him, Bob was exhausted and as inert as a sack of laundry. He was hardly aware that she got off the bed and moved to the adjoining bathroom. He no longer watched Jerry being serviced by the brunette.
Jerry's cries did penetrate his consciousness, however, and he was aware that Jerry had reached Nirvana, even as he had moments before.
This was far from being the end of the evening, however.
As soon as Helga returned, smiling, from the bathroom, she lay down beside Bob on the bed, while Jerry stood alone for the moment and undressed, looking shaky and dazed. The two men said nothing to each other.
Helga caressed Bob, and he took her loosely in his arms as Jerry's brunette returned. She was nude. She and Jerry took possession of the other twin bed.
Bob dreamily caressed Helga's hobbling tits and rubbed her erect rounded nipples as her hand teased his flaccid penis and his depleted balls. After a few moments, he leaned to her more aggressively and began to kiss her about the face and throat and breasts.
On the other bed, Jerry and his girl were caressing and murmuring to each other.
In less than fifteen minutes, Bob was atop Helga, and his resurrected cock was sliding into the warm, lubricated passageway of her loins. He stroked in and out of her twisting, bobbing cunt and, with each motion, his desire increased, producing an added hardness and swelling of his pecker.
Helga's wide thighs came up around him, and he humped her very vigorously.
He glanced to his side as he pumped, and there was the brunette playgirl crouched atop Jerry, wiggling and rotating her hips.
The tempo of Bob's motions increased even more, and he finished in a flurry of frantic plunges. The climax caught him in its horny grip and shook him from head to heels as Helga vibrated beneath him, her cunt muscles spasmodically clasping his twitching, spurting rod.
Jerry and his girl had already finished and were sitting up in bed, watching the culmination of Bob and Helga's show.
Then the four of them talked.
There was a bottle of liquor in the nightstand between the twin beds. Helga got that out and passed it around.
Before long, the two men changed partners, and, at the brunette's suggestion, they went at their woman dog fashion. The added excitement of this approach stiffened Bob to rock-hardness again, and it seemed to have the same effect on Jerry, because neither man experienced difficulty in linking with his girl from the rear.
Helga and the brunette (whose name Bob never knew; he wasn't even sure Jerry knew it) twisted their rear ends, rubbing their ample buttocks against the bellies of their lovers as the men's cocks pumped in and out of their clasping, wiggling pussies and the men's hands milked at the women's tits.
It was the wildest experience of Bob's life, and one he could hardly regret that evening. What man could have? But when morning came and he found himself alone in his hotel room once more, he took a different view of the whole affair.
This was natural, too.
He thought of Nancy, and he berated himself for having cheated on her. He felt he had to talk to her, though of course he had no intention of confessing what he had done.
He merely wanted to hear her voice and to pledge his love to her while he received her similar declaration in return.
This seemed very important to him right then. He placed the call from his bed.