Kurt moved in that evening. He arrived with boxes, bags, and a squirming kitten tucked under one big arm. Mika was a dark grey tabby, barely old enough to leave his mother. Kurt introduced us. Holding him up to me, he said, "Mika, this is Miss Emily, our new friend. You be good, so she doesn't want to kick us out." Mika regarded me calmly with large, golden eyes, completely rimmed with pale gray fur. It looked like someone had put eyeshadow on him.
"Kurt, he has your eyes. The truth comes out, you're rescuing your illegitimate son. He is a son?" I peeked rudely between the tiny, dangling legs, up under the tail, and there wasn't anything there.
"The vet says so. He has a willie, but no balls yet. Still haven't descended. Reminds me of a fellow I did a video with once. He billed himself as 'No Nuts Nick'. Comic relief."
I was worried at first that Puddin' and Princess might bully him, but that notion was quashed quickly. They sniffed him thoroughly, then double teamed him for a thorough washing, their thwarted mother instinct taking over. Kurt and I laughed ourselves sick watching the tiny bundle of damp fur staggering and tripping under the determined licking. "He's your boy, all right. Has females crawling all over him already. When those dangles do show up, you have to have them nipped."
Kurt sighed. "Yes. I had to agree to that when I adopted him. I hate to do it, though." he complained.
"He'll be healthier," I argued. "And the girls are fixed, too, so it's not like he'll have the opportunity to get any."
"It's just that I'm so fond of my own balls. I'd hate to have to lose them."
"Yeah, but that won't be an issue unless you start shredding my drapes and peeing on my furniture."
"I don't get that drunk." He took a swallow of one of the dark, thick looking beers he'd brought along. ("No, I won't clutter up your refrigerator. I drink them room temperature, like in the fatherland.")
He'd quickly stored away most of his things, and we were already feeling at home together. All that was left was a good sized cardboard box that was packed with videotapes. I had a spacious cabinet under my television that held my own meager collection. I pointed at it. "Do you want to put those in the cabinet?"
He pulled the box up onto the couch between us. "I was going to store them in my closet."
"It's pretty crowded in there already."
"Well, if you wouldn't mind."
"Why should I mind?"
"These are my work tapes."
I looked in the box. It all looked pretty bland. They were all in plain paper jackets. "All...um..."
"Pornography." He picked Mika off his pants' leg and set him on the floor, giving him a gentle swat on the butt to make him scurry away. "I get a copy of each one. You know, like authors get copies of their books. I always have something to watch, and I can study my technique. Refine it."
"Is it okay if I look through these?"
"Of course. I have the other box under my bed. There's... oh, I don't know. A hundred, a hundred and ten or so."
Jesus please us, I thought. But he'd been doing this since he was eighteen, on a regular basis. I began to sort through the tapes.
They were all neatly labeled. Necessary Roughness, Pricking Peter's Pride, The Ties that Bind ("Incest," he explained), Tender Flesh. Kurt reached in and rummaged around. "Here's my first one, The Young Master. I did it the day after my eighteenth birthday." He moved a few more. "They like to do them like popular movies, yes? "
"Here...Educating Rina, White Men Can Pump." He groaned. "The titles! As if the cover art weren't enough to let the customer know what they were. Here's an obvious one. Tittanic."
I burst out laughing, and he gave me a questioning glance. "I'm sorry, I just had an image of you dragging Leonardo DiCapprio into that motorcar below deck and shagging his skinny butt."
Kurt answered my laughter. "I don't know which I'd rather have fucked: him, Rose, or Billy Zane. For Billy..." he sighed. "For Billy, I'd be bottom, any time."
"You really are equal opportunity sexy, aren't you?"
He gave me a parody of a seductive smile and suggestively licked the neck of his bottle, before sucking in a mouthful of beer. "It's all good, Emmie." We'd gotten to first names very quickly. "As long as I like someone, it's all good."
He zeroed in on one tape, extracting it from the box. "Double Team. This is good. I'm a baseball player in it, a very good one. And there are twins, brother and sister, who each own teams, and they both want to sign me up. I've run into a few sister teams in the industry, but this was the only brother-sister couple I've ever met. I don't think they were really twins, though. That was just their publicity. There was one or two years age difference. They do all sorts of naughty things to get me. At the end, I fuck them both. Good locker room scene, too." He turned the tape over in his hands. "Could I watch this?"
"Are you going to complain if I watch gory, head rolling, gut splattering horror movies?"
"No."
"Then go ahead." I started to get up.
"You don't have to go. Why don't you stay and watch it with me?" He shifted the box back to the floor, then got up and went to the television, turning it on.
"It wouldn't embarrass you to have me here?"
He popped the tape into the machine and pressed play, shaking his head. "For someone so tolerant, you're pretty naive. I fuck men and women on tape for a living, Emmie. Why should I be embarrassed if you watch?"
To be honest, I was curious. I'd rented a couple of 'adult' tapes before, but they were only hard R. The zoning restrictions in the area didn't allow X rated rentals, and I wasn't about to shell out the kind of cash it took to purchase the tapes.
I could tell the production values were pretty good, for a porn movie. The editing of the credits was smooth, the music was only slightly cheesy, Velveeta instead of Limburger, and the sound was clear. The first cast name on screen was 'MASTER BREMIN'. I pointed. "That's you?" He flexed his muscles, mock scowling.
I settled in to watch. There was actual character development. A love-hate competitive relationship was shown between the brother and sister. And I'll be damned if they didn't actually screw, doing a very enthusiastic shag on an office desk. I was more astonished than offended by the fact that I was watching literal, and not just cinematic, incest. They were both of age, no one was being forced, so I suppose that's why I didn't find it particularly offensive. I didn't find it particularly stimulating, though, either.
Kurt looked yummy in his tight baseball uniform. I'd noticed before that those clanging uniforms seemed to accentuate the players' crotches. Kurt looked like he had at least two rolled up pairs of socks stuffed in his jock strap. But when the jock came off in the locker room, everything inside it proved to be nature's bounty. Kurt went into the shower on the tape, and washed himself slowly and sensually.
The water sheeted on his body. He was completely smooth except for a short, wiry patch at his groin. He told me later that he waxed regularly, part of his professional regime. He even deducted the sessions as business expenses when he did his taxes.
I could tell what was coming when the second man joined him under the spray. They joked around, then started playing grab ass, like guys do sometimes. Kurt was a lot bigger than the other guy. He pinned one of the other man's arms behind him, and pushed him up against the tiled shower wall.
The second actor squirmed and laughed, even when Kurt bent down and started kissing him on the neck. But when Kurt's soap lathered fingers reached around and encompassed his cock, the man stopped laughing and started protesting.
Kurt, the on screen ballplayer, ignored his complaints, jerking him off. After a little while, the guy quieted down and began to pump into Kurt's fist. He started protesting again when Kurt abandoned his task, reached back between their bodies, and began to pry his butt cheeks apart.
Again he was ignored. Controlling him with one hand (and I really believed he was capable of this; the dude looked strong), Kurt got a bottle of hair conditioner off a ledge, squeezed some out onto his mammoth, straining erection, and rammed it home. The poor sodomizee screamed like it had been a red hot railroad spike driven up his rectum. But as Kurt pushed against him, he began to buck back against the invading probe.
I couldn't stop staring, fascinated. If that guy wasn't actually getting off on being reamed out, he deserved the damn Oscar. I jumped when Kurt spoke, his voice anxious, "That really didn't hurt him that much. We needed that kind of reaction for the scene."
"It's pretty damn effective."
"I just wanted to be sure you understood, and didn't think badly of me. I'm always very careful with my submissives."
"I believe you." I did. Despite the momentary thrill of danger I'd felt earlier in the kitchen, I knew that Kurt was really more of a pussycat than little Mika.
On screen positions had changed, and now the second ballplayer was on his knees, eagerly suckling at Kurt's crotch. He'd been won over pretty quickly.
"Miss Emmie?"
"Huh?" Kurt had his hands in the man's wet hair, jerking his head back and forth.
"Miss Emmie, I need to relieve myself."
"You know where the toilet is," I said absently. Now Kurt was having his balls licked. He seemed to like that. It was a surreal sensation, watching someone I knew screwing their brains out on screen.
"It's more comfortable here. Can't I do it here?"
"Kurt, I told you about peeing on the furniture. I don't want you denutted, but..."
"Not that, silly. I need to jerk off."
That got my attention. My head jerked toward him, and I reflexively looked at his fly. There was a huge bulge along the inside of his left thigh. Forget socks, this looked like he was carrying a flashlight in there. He'd changed into shorts, and I saw a tiny rim of pink flesh peeping from under the hem. My entire body, respiration, circulation, thought, seemed to seize up at once.
"Sure, sorry. Silly me. I'll just go to my room now."
His hand on my arm almost made me scream. "Oh, don't do that! It won't bother you, will it?"
I stared at him in astonishment. But his gaze was open, almost childishly frank. He trusted me not to be offended by what he saw as a purely natural urge acted upon.
"But Kurt... isn't that something you'd rather do in private?"
"I told you. I fuck people in front of other people for a living. I like being watched. It gets me even hotter." He stroked my arm. My skin crawled, but it was in a most pleasant manner. "I like you. I'd like you to watch me come. Pretty please?"
"I can't..." I cleared my throat. "You can't... touch me, Kurt. And I won't touch you."
WhatamIdoingwhatamIdoingwhatamIdoing?
He sat back. "That's all right. Just watch." He took the remote, and shut off the tv. The room was suddenly very quiet. "And maybe we could talk to each other a little, yes?" He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside.
"I don't know how good I'd be at this."
"You never know until you try. Wait here a second." He went to the bathroom and was back a moment later with two towels and a bottle of baby oil. He spread one towel on the couch, and sat on it. "I hope you don't mind, but I locked the babies in the bathroom. I wouldn't feel safe with my cock and balls dangling with Mika about." I winced sympathetically at the image he'd conjured up.
Then he reached over and touched my cheek gently, questioningly. "You're sure? You should be sure, if this is the first time you've done something like this."
"I'm okay."
"Good. I was hoping you would be." He popped the snap on his shorts and pulled the zipper down slowly. He wasn't wearing any underwear. I saw a tidy bush of very dark pubic hair. He lifted his ass off the couch and slid the shorts down his legs, kicking them aside. Then he sighed and spread his legs slightly, as if relishing the feel of air on his no longer confined penis.
Friends...words have never failed me, but if ever there was a sight to induce speechlessness...I wasn’t entirely ignorant of male anatomy. I'd changed babies. I'd looked at statues, even a few quick peeks at a Playgirl centerfold at the corner store. And I'd seen Kurt on tape. But it was nothing to compare with Kurt in the flesh. And oh, there was a lot of flesh there.
Freed from it's imprisonment, it...would hovered be a good word? I'm guessing it was a good eight inches long or more, and he wasn't fully erect yet. Kurt gave it an almost friendly tap, which set it bobbing, and reached for the baby oil.
"The oil makes it better. You can chafe yourself it you get too enthusiastic." he explained. He dribbled some of the clear fluid into his palm, then rubbed his hands together, working the oil all over them. He examined them critical. Unsatisfied, he used a little more oil, then nodded his approval.
He rubbed his hands over his chest and said conversationally, "I like to start like this. Women aren't the only one's who want foreplay, you know?" His pale skin began to glisten in the lamplight. "And my nipples are very sensitive." His fingers traced around the flat copper coins of his aerolite, and the nipples began to rise. He brushed them with his fingertips, and the skin puckered.
He sighed. "I always have my slaves pay particular attention to them. Nothing like a warm, wet tongue teasing you." He pinched the nipples, hard.
I couldn't hold back a sympathetic squeak, and he looked at me questioningly. "Doesn't that hurt?" I asked.
He shrugged, stretching the pebbly nubs. "Sure. But that's part of it. It's a sexy pain. It feels good." His hand slid sensuously down his rib cage to his flat abdomen, and began circling his navel. "Keep talking to me."
"I can't believe I'm doing this. You're the first man outside a couple of maintenance men I've ever even been alone with in this place, and I'm doing this."
"And you're very sweet to do this for me. I've done a few vids about housewives and repairmen. It's a popular theme. You have a very, very pretty mouth, Emmie. Would you mind if I thought about you sucking my cock?" His hands slid down and began sliding through the short thatch of his pubic hair.
"I... me? Kurt, I'm old enough to be your mother."
"My mother's a sexy woman. And no, nothing like that ever happened. We all have our limits, though some of us set them back farther than others. I won't touch you. I just want to think about you."
His hands circled firmly around the base of his penis, and he gave it a long, smooth upward stroke.
"Wouldn't you rather think about Pamela Anderson?"
"I don't much like the fake titties, and that's pretty much all I see these days. I like you, Emmie. You're real, and funny, and nice. And very sexy." He stroked himself slowly again. "It would give me much pleasure."
"All right." I had truly fallen down the rabbit hole. But when you're in Wonderland, hey, you might as well join the tea party. right? "I suppose... I'd take your scrotum in my hand first."
Kurt smiled at that. He's the smilingest man I've ever known, then or now. He followed my suggestion, mirroring the action. "What would you do then?"
"Well," I thought. This was like the improvisation I'd liked in high school, carried to extreme lengths. "I wouldn't just hold you like that, like you were a tomato I was considering for a salad. I'd give you a leetle squeeze."
Kurt copied the action. "You know, you don't have to be all that gentle. I like it rough, too."
"Maybe later, but I wouldn't start out that way." I said decisively. "I'd just kind of...roll your balls around." He did it, his expression blissful and dreamy. During what followed, any action I spoke of, he acted on.
"That feels nice. Are you going to touch my cock?"
"Don't be so impatient, brat. I'd do that for a little while longer. It looks like you're enjoying it."
"Oh, yes." He was thickening and elongating as I watched. "It's very nice. You have a good touch."
"I could use a better view of what I'm doing."
Kurt turned to face me on the couch. He left his left foot flat on the floor, and lifted his right till it rested, knee bent, on the back of the couch. He was totally open to me.
His cock rose from his pubes, a thick, proud staff that was so erect that it quivered close to parallel with his flat belly. He was circumcised, and the glans was a slick, satiny deep pink knob at the end. "What would you do next?" he said hoarsely.
"I'd wrap my hands around it. I think it would take both hands. That's really something you have there." The look he turned on his penis was almost affectionate, like it was a good friend.
"Then you'd stroke me, right?' he said hopefully.
"Yes, that's exactly what I'd do. Very slowly, all the way up...all the way down. And I'd keep doing it, because I'll be damned but I think you're getting bigger."
His face was flushed now, his eyes sparking. "I go over ten inches when I'm hard."
"Kurt! You stick that thing in people?"
A breathless laugh. "As much as I can, and they like it as much as I do." Kurt continued to piston his fists up and down, slowing when I told him to, speeding up when I said faster.
I could see long muscles rippling in his thighs, across his belly. There were tiny crackling sounds as the baby oil worked between his hands and the swollen flesh of his hardon.
He leaned back wantonly on the sofa, closing his eyes, his hands never stopping their rapid rhythm. "Let me speak. I want to fuck you some day, Emmie. Someday when you're ready. It will be delicious. You're so sweet, and you're so curious. I know you're older than me, but you're just like a naughty little girl. I want to make you feel good. I want to lick you till you get as soft and creamy as I know you will."
I found myself squeezing my thighs together hard. There was that hot, liquid sensation deep in my belly that I'd never felt except in the privacy of my room, in the deep pit of the night. Now, in bright lamplight, I felt the slickness that heralded arousal.
"Kurt, " I said quietly. "No, Kurt. You mustn't do that. I told you, you mustn't touch me."
He craned his head to look at me through slitted eyes, seeing that I had entered fully into his game. "Yes, Emmie." he purred. "Ooh, I have to. You're just too sweet to resist. I'm touching your breasts now. Mm, the nipples are as hard as mine." Damned it they weren't, too. Was the man psychic? "I'm going to pinch, just a little."
I swear, I could almost feel it. It made me groan. "It's not too much?" he said anxiously, as if he might really have hurt me.
"No. Do it again." Again that low purr rumbled in his chest. Kurt didn't deny himself any sensual pleasure, but one of his greatest turn ons was giving pleasure to others.
"Now I'm reaching between your legs. I've just got to get my hands on your pussy, it's driving me wild. But first I rub your thighs a little." I pictured those big, strong hands resting on the white flesh of my inner thighs, sliding upward, and shivered.
"I'm putting my hand on you now. I'm rubbing." I fisted my hands, jamming them hard into my lap. "Ahh, you're so wet, so ready. I'm going to push one finger into your cunt, very gently. Don't worry, I won't hurt."
I shoved my fist down between my legs, trapping and squeezing it. What was he doing to me? He wasn't even touching me, I was fully clothed.
"I'm going to move it in and out now. Like that, long and slow. Do you like that?"
"Yes." I didn't recognize my own voice.
"Good. Then we'll try one more. Tell me if it's too much. I'm pushing harder now, up past my second knuckle. You're tight, Miss Emily. Very tight and wet. How does it feel?"
"Huhngh." I was incapable of speech, but it didn't seem to faze him. "I knew you'd like it. I'm going to start finger fucking you good, now. Like that. I'm going faster and harder and deeper, because you want that, don't you?"
This is so crazy. A scrap of horrified resistance reared up briefly.
"No."
"Liar. Your body says different. You feel like you're full of melted honey."
The slit in his glans was drooling a clear fluid, mingling with the baby oil. For a moment he stopped his rapid frigging, and slowly and sensually rubbed the very tip, spreading the pre seminal fluid.
All I can say is that I went temporarily insane. Before I knew what I was doing, I'd leaned forward and bestowed one lavish, admiring lick to his cock head. Hmm. Salty.
The reaction startled the hell out of me. Kurt's whole body went rigid, and he cried out loudly. Hips lifting, his come spurted strongly from his cock, spattering his thighs and belly. I felt a burning hot droplet on my cheek as I jerked my head back.
He spasmed again, then a third time, each jet a little less forceful. He was still except for a quivering in his thighs for a moment, then he went completely limp. Except his cock, that is. It was still semi-hard.
Eyes shut, he gulped, "Miss Emily..."
"Geez, Kurt! I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me."
"Sorry?!" He laughed raggedly, and sat up. "Don't you dare apologize for giving me the best orgasm I've had in ages."
"Oh. I was afraid I'd messed things up somehow."
He took the towel and wiped himself clean, studying me. "You really haven't done this before, have you?" I shook my head. "Nothing? Why?" I shrugged. I wasn't entirely sure myself, so how could I tell him. He was shaking his head. "But it's such a waste! You have a natural talent for sex play. You knew just what to do."
I blushed. Amazing. After what I'd just done, talking dirty to a man two decades my junior while he jerked off, a little compliment like that made me blush.
"Your face is dirty." He reached over with the towel and dabbed away the pearl of come. Then he took my chin in his hand, looking deep into my eyes, and frowning. "Emily, you didn't come." Another statement of fact. How the hell did he do it?
I pulled away from his touch, turning. I felt his hands on my back, big and gentle. "Let me take care of you."
I slapped back at him weakly. "No. I'm all right."
"Emily...no. You're burning up." His arms went around my waist, and I felt him pressing against my back.
"I said no, Kurt!" I tried to pry his hands loose, but they were locked.
"Don't be afraid. It won't take much, you're very close to the edge. I won't even take any of your clothes off. Sort of a dry diddling."
Now one hand lay over my forehead, and my head was pressed back to rest on his shoulder. The other hand wedged down between my legs.
"Stop it." The words were automatic.
"I would, if you really meant it. Hush and enjoy." He pressed firmly into my crotch. The pressure came to rest right above my clitoris, and he began to rub with strong, probing motions.
I twisted, making a mewling noise and my hands fluttered helplessly before me. He kept up the steady pace, turning his head to bite me lightly on the neck.
The bubble of hot liquid inside me burst, and I bucked against his hand. making noises in the back of my throat.
"That's right," Kurt encouraged. "You deserved that one, you worked for it." He held me for another moment or two while the quaking passed out of my body, his touch now light, soothing more than sexual. He whispered in my ear, German words I couldn't understand, but knew were meant to be reassuring.
At last I disengaged myself, turned around, and kissed his cheek, almost chastely. "Thank you."
"My pleasure. Literally. Emily, was that your first orgasm?"
I hesitated. There had been familiar aspects, of course, but it had also been very different from what I was used to, much more intense. He grunted. "If you have to stop and think about it, the answer is yes."
"I thought I'd had those before."
"Mm. Well," his hands cupped the still aching fullness of my breasts. "Nature meant it to be a shared experience."
I pushed his hands away, firmly but without anger. He peered around into my face, and shrugged again, accepting. I stood up. My legs were still shaky, but I couldn't repress a long, luxurious stretch. "We're friends, right?"
"Good friends." He agreed. The pact was made, but unspoken. We might share our bodies again, and we would most certainly care about each other, even love each other. But we would never be in love. with each other.
Kurt turned the television back on. The tape must have run past the scene I remembered. On screen, Kurt was plowing into a petit blonde, while the brother actor thrust into his humping ass. "Don't forget to turn that off when you're through." I warned him as I walked toward my room. "We need to watch the electricity."
"Yah, sure." he mumbled, reaching again for the baby oil.
