Part One: COLLEGE
Raymond Englehard, I remember him from college. He was known as Ray back then, but now they call him Senator Engelhard. Ray came to mind recently when he appeared on the #Me Too most wanted list. Of course, that put him on the media’s persecution roster, making him the leading story on news telecasts and the Internet.
In a twist of good fortune, the reporters have been so captivated by the claims of several charming young women that they haven’t bothered to look into Senator Engelhard’s past; by that, I mean his college days where I was an eyewitness.
Ray and I go back a long time. We met in college and became close friends. Ray had a special talent. He attracted girls and women like moths to a flame. The thing is, Ray wasn’t the most handsome guy in our fraternity, nor did he have an outgoing personality. No one fully understood the attraction females had for him.
Some of our frat brothers assumed it was because he was well endowed where it counts. As his roommate in college, I can say that wasn’t the case. Growing up in a small Georgia town gave Ray a charming Southern drawl. Maybe that was it, or the deep dimple on his chin. Most likely, it was because he was an unassuming Southern gentleman.
Ray was confident, smart and with boundless energy. In addition, he treated women with respect. He was empathetic, showing just the right amount of sympathy just at the right time. His subtle sense of humor was engaging.
Women warmed up to Ray quickly. He wasn’t afraid to take advantage of it. In short, he was a gentleman who fucked like a stud.
I have to say these recollections are among my most treasured memories. Ray and I were buddies, almost inseparable. He told me life is short and we should take advantage of it every day; carpe diem, he would say. With that in mind, I was happy that he took me along for the ride.
During our first years at the university, we had a typical university dorm room. He didn’t like asking me to leave the room when he was with a girl. He thought it was inconsiderate. That was so like Ray to think of others, not only of himself. But being in the same room with Ray fucking his date was like being a peeping tom, and made me uncomfortable. He solved that by making arrangements with his date to help me feel included. His dates brought along a girlfriend. It was like double dating, but with girls that were open-minded about what the date would involve.
My first experience double dating with Ray was awkward. His girl had only one thing in mind; she wanted to get fucked. She was naked in bed before Ray had his shoes unlaced. However, I had no idea what my date was thinking. She hadn’t given me any signals that might suggest we would be more than interested spectators. I had underestimated her. She had no delusions about how we would be spending our time together. Before I knew it, she was satisfying my lust and, apparently, hers as well. After that, I never gave that kind of an arrangement a second thought.
The weekends found us at a bar, playing pool and drinking beer, but the main objective was to pick up girls. Most times when I was at the pool table, Ray was working the room fraternizing with the most appealing girls. On one of those nights, he came up to me, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Lenny, this is Jenny and Pearl. Jenny, this is my buddy Lenny,” with an expression that seemed to say Pearl was his for the night.
She smiled and said, “Hi, Lenny. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet a friend of Ray’s,” I lamely replied. Then I tried to redeem myself with, “Hey, Lenny and Jenny has a nice sound to it.” That remark didn’t work well either.
Jenny and Pearl were the townies that Ray had charmed while I was at the pool table. I wasn’t convinced they were of legal drinking age. They looked like high school girls, probably seniors. I didn’t ask. After finishing my pool game and buying the girls a beer, we got acquainted long enough to persuade the girls to go back to our room.
“Okay with you girls?” Ray asked politely.
“Why not,” they both said enthusiastically. Clearly, they were excited to hook-up with college guys. Both were cooperative as well. We were screwing the girls a half hour later.
Although Jenny was a plain looking girl compared to her girlfriend, her tits were not, and she knew how to use them. The first time I came was with my cock cradled between her enormous boobs, squirting all the way to her chin. She just giggled at that. The second time, she was on top with her jugs swinging and jiggling as she energetically pounded onto my inflamed cock. I wish I could have lasted longer. Her enthusiasm and evident pleasure for our workout were too much for me, and I soon exploded with several shots deep in her impassioned pussy. It wasn’t as robust as the first load, but respectable for a second. She didn’t giggle at that, just sighed, a long contented sigh.
That was pretty typical of our Friday night. When we became upperclassmen, the girls had gotten to know Ray and me, and occasionally sought us out for “a good time,” mostly one-night stands.
By this time, I had acquired a reputation of my own. News travels fast in college dorms, especially when it involves a girl we all knew as Dirty Doris. Doris had heard about my physical attributes, but wasn’t satisfied just experiencing them. She had a passion for a guy’s cum. She said, “Lenny, I know a guy that cums faster than shots from a six-shooter. Bang, bang, bang, six shots. How many times can you fire at one time?”
“Doris, I’ve never counted it, but it’s probably a lot.”
“Okay, Lenny, let’s count. I hope you haven’t fucked anyone this week, so you’re really stoked for this.”
“No, I’ve been studying for finals and haven’t had time.”
Doris wasn’t buying it. “Really, Lenny. You mean you couldn’t get a date this week.”
I smiled, saying, “This is strictly for science, right, Doris?”
“Of course,” she laughed.
I don’t mean to brag, but I did well. After she stripped us naked and began stroking me, I was pretty combustible. I exploded with an opening trio of super shots, four ordinary spurts, a couple of wimpy shots, and a few dribbles. Dirty Doris was like the town-crier, and let it be known that Lusty Lenny had a super soaker hidden in his pants. Apparently, that was a physical attribute that intrigued the girls. Finding a date was less challenging after that. Ray and I had now become equals.
Our senior year wasn’t much of a change in our social arrangements, except we no longer lived in the dorm and rented an apartment. It provided a little more privacy, especially since Ray was seriously dating Amber.
The most memorable occasion happened just before graduation. It was a pre-graduation party at our place. It started out like any other college party. There were a half dozen guys and as many girls. We started around four in the afternoon. Someone brought Jello shots, so as the sun began to set, everyone was pretty well lubricated. The guys began yelling, “Wet t-shirts, wet t-shirts!” One of the girls picked up the hose and squirted her friend, then everyone joined in, with the guys helping the girls loosen their bras and dowsing any girl within range. The effect on each of us was incendiary. Our erections were fully in command.
The girls got their revenge, hollering, “Fireman, Fireman. We want to see who’s the fireman.” This was a traditional reference to the guy who was adorned with the most prominent male organ. George, a brute of a fellow, was proud of his genital gifts and pulled down his shorts for the girls to appreciate his specimen. Being competitive, the rest of us joined in. I think I would have been the winner except George was already rock hard and stood out like a fire pole. I was only halfway there. George demanded that as the winner, each girl had to give him a blow job.
The girls lined up, kneeling in front of him one after another. Some just gave his cock a kiss. Others took him down as far as they were able. It wasn’t long before the whole situation became an orgy. Some of the less inhibited couples didn’t even find privacy for their carnal desires.
I’m not totally sure why this happened, but before the party ended, I fucked Amber, Ray’s girlfriend. It wasn’t anything planned, at least not by me. She came up to me with erect nipples poking through her wet t-shirt, wiggling her tantalizing tits. Ray was in the bedroom with my date, Connie. That’s when I learned why Ray liked Amber so much. She was a great fuck. Amber must have been doing original research for her junior thesis, “The Decadent Sexual Proclivities of Human Intercourse.” I was more than a willing subject.
After a short blow job, we tried everything for her research project. She had an orgasm for almost every position we tried. Finally, I blasted her with a fire hose worth of cum. God, she was great in bed. I hoped that I had performed well enough to be recognized on the thesis’ acknowledgments page.
Ray found out about it and simply said, “Ya know, Lenny, Amber mentioned the word ‘marriage’ the other night. I’m not a one-woman guy, so you’ve just done me a huge favor. That’s the perfect excuse I needed to break up with her. Thanks, buddy!”
* * *
Part Two: EUROPE
After graduation, Ray and I lost touch. He went on to law school, then got into politics. I took a break and went to Europe. It was a graduation present from my grandma. Grandma told me to roam around Europe, sow my oats, then come back and get a good job. Grandma might have been old, but she had a youthful spirit.
So without much of a plan, I boarded a Boeing 747 and arrived in Amsterdam at eight in the morning. On the flight, I met two college girls that were majoring in art history. Amsterdam was their first stop, then Paris, and finally, Madrid. They had made hotel reservations. I hadn’t. They said if I shared the room’s cost, I could stay with them. I stayed with them.
After checking into the hotel, I followed them to Rijks Museum for a primer on Rembrandt and Vermeer. All I knew was they were famous Dutch painters. We saw a lot of portraits of old dead people. For me, it was boring, far from my fantasies of picking up girls in Europe. The paintings didn’t interest me nearly as much as the two art history students.
Apparently, Rembrandt had a lot of women admirers to whom he took a liking, many of whom he painted. People had called him indecent because he associated with lowlife; then there was his painting that shows copulating dogs adding to his reputation. Vermeer, on the other hand, seemed to be attracted to young girls. This was never substantiated but when reviewing his work, a substantial number of paintings were of younger women.
My two docents were delighted to show me paintings by a lesser known artist, Dirck van Baburen. His brothel paintings were interesting but they weren’t porn. These stories and others were what the two girls had uncovered in their research, and they were more than enthusiastic to educate me.
Two hours of art was enough for me. I slinked off to find a nearby Dutch “coffeeshop.” I found several across the canal near the Heineken Brewery. I smoked a joint and bought enough supplies to last a few days before returning to the museum. Things were beginning to look up!
It was late in the afternoon and the three of us were hungry. We stopped at a modest looking restaurant on a side street not far from our hotel, ordering a braadworst and washing it down with a half liter of Heineken. It had been a long day and time for another smoke. The girls were eager to join me. I was happy to share. After all, they took me in as a roommate, and it might shift the conversation from art to something more interesting. It soon did.
We smoked and had a second beer when I began to look at the girls in a different way. It occurred to me that these girls had a sexy charm about them. I could feel my cock stirring, unable to behave itself. Maybe there was more to these girls than art appreciation. I entertained myself with the fantasy of getting lucky and sharing more than a joint with one of the girls.
Almost out of nowhere, Meghan, the quiet one said with surprising enthusiasm, “Let’s go to the red light district after this!”
Janice, the tall one said, “Oh, I’m too tired. Aren’t you?”
Meghan frowned and replied, “Never too tired for sex and neither are you. What do you think, Lenny?”
My response was a bit too eager. “I’m all for it.”
So we got out a map and planned our little sex-seeing excursion. It was in the De Wallen district and too far to walk. This became our first experience with public transportation. We lost our way, of course, but finally found the area surrounded by bars, sex shops, window brothels and tons of tourists like ourselves. We lit up again and took a stroll down prostitution lane. Neither of the girls appeared especially embarrassed by being there, although I felt a little uneasy being with two young girls and a hard-on.
Finally, we had absorbed enough erotica for one day and headed to our hotel. An hour later, having been lost again, we got to the hotel exhausted.
I slept on a rollout bed, the girls together on a double. Needless to say, we fell asleep rather easily.
I woke up a few hours later trying to get my bearings. Maybe it was the time change or unfamiliar sounds making me unsure of where I was. The street light near our hotel gave the room just enough light for me to see what was happening in the next bed. Meghan and Janice were stretched out in the classic sixty-nine position with their heads hidden between each others’ thighs. The girls appeared to have a voracious appetite by their moans that told volumes of their mutual satisfaction.
I watched for a few minutes before being overwhelmed by a growing need to climb aboard. Not having had sex for a couple of weeks, my balls hung heavy with sperm crying for release like two caged prisoners. I was fully loaded and my dick was at full strength when I crawled in bed with them. Janice was on top with her ass at the perfect angle for me to plow into her just above Meghan’s head. Janice let out a squeal as I slipped into her juicy slit. It was not an unhappy squeal, more of a welcoming surprised squeal. Immediately, Meghan began fondling and sucking my balls as if she had anticipated my arrival. I was in paradise.
I was so ready; I couldn’t wait. I couldn’t hold back. Too soon, way too soon I unloaded like a dam bursting inside Janice who only wailed, “Oh no! Already!?!”.
It took a few minutes before I pulled out leaving Janice’s pussy dripping with cum. Meghan hadn’t moved. As cum dribbled from Janice’s overflowing cunt, Meghan opened her mouth, devouring the fluids as eagerly as a parched hiker in the Mojave Desert.
I didn’t say a word when I rolled back into my bed. It was still hours before dawn.
At the first glimmer of light, it was Meghan who squeezed next to me, whispering, “I want you inside me. The moment we met on the plane, I wanted to fuck you. We’re going to Paris today, so this is our only chance.”
The girl was quick, straddling on top, taking her hand to push my throbbing dick into her slippery slit. Meghan was in a frenzy as she bounced up and down on my pole gaining momentum as she felt a growing orgasm. It was almost magical when she arrived at a full climax just as I ejaculated with my cock fully encased by her snatch. We collapsed in each other’s arms when we heard Janice say, “My god that was good. You two really put on a great show. I came just watching you.”
I thought of following the girls to Paris, but I’d had enough art for a lifetime. I wanted to see Germany, then travel to Latvia where Grandma said we had relatives. It was the one request she made, asking me to check in with family. On the other hand, although it wasn’t a request, she had encouraged me to sow my oats, and I was well on the way to accomplishing that.
The train ride to Berlin was swift. It was a fast ICE so when leaving Amsterdam at 5:00 PM, I was in Berlin just after eleven that night. The girls had shown me how to book a hotel online, so I had reservations near the train station. The hotel was cheap and not the kind of place you would take your grandmother, even if she was young at heart.
The next morning I ate a German donut they call a “Berliner” for breakfast and drank some strong coffee. Then I wandered around the city checking in at Check Point Charlie and visited their outdoor museum. A cute girl was cooking and serving a type of waffle at a nearby food stand. Her name was Marta. Her English was very good, so with few other tourists around, it gave us a chance to talk. She said she was eighteen and from Regensburg in Bavaria. I told her I was from Iowa in America. Before I left, she suggested we could meet again at a biergarten. Marta marked it on my map, and said she’d be there at eight.
I spent the afternoon at what remains of the Berlin Wall, the Brandenburg Gate, and a few other tourist sites. Taking the U-Bahn, I almost got to the meeting place on time. It was a serve yourself biergarten, so it was up to me to get a beer and a brat. I fumbled with my Euros trying to find the right change when, just in time, Marta came up to me and to help out. She ordered the same, I paid, and we sat with a group of her friends.
We had a great time together even if they made several jokes at the expense of Americans. She asked me where I was staying, and said she lived not far from my hotel. We rode the U-Bahn back, but she had no intention of leaving me. Almost as soon as we were together in my hotel room, she was ripping off her clothes, slid to her knees, then anxiously tugged at my shorts like a kid excitedly opening a birthday present. Fräulein Marta found what she was looking for, and was on my cock in a heart beat. When she had me fully erect, we fell into the squeaky bed smelling of beer. I slid into her as easily as slipping into a favorite pair of sandals. The sweat on her breasts, some hers, some mine, glistened with an erotic glow while I pounded into her. The bed’s springs sang a rapacious song as an accomplice to our tryst.
There isn’t a language barrier when it comes to fucking. Whatever I wanted, she understood. Whatever she wanted, I agreed. We did it all. Our friendship was consummated by guttural satisfaction with both of us gasping for air. It was truly the perfect détente.
Marta left me to go home to her tiny apartment where she lived with her husband. I hope he appreciated the creamy present she brought home still locked inside her.
After my short stop in Berlin, I was on my way to meet the relatives. Grandma had written to her cousin in Latvia that I would be there sometime in July. She had also sent a generous sum of money to make sure I would be welcome. It was late June when I embarked on my trip to Riga. The thing is, it would be a long trip by train, over a day and a half or I could take a Ryanair flight that takes less than two hours. In the end, it was a train trip stopping in Warsaw, then Minsk, a trip that turned into four days before arriving in Riga, the capital of Latvia.
Warsaw was friendly and the people helpful. I found a nice nightclub in Warsaw with lots of shapely girls. None would go home with me. Minsk was a different story. Minsk was a lively clean city with a dazzling night life. Almost immediately I located a strip club; I didn’t have to go far. It was right in my hotel, but first, I needed to check out the neighborhood. Taking a walk near the hotel was an experience in the underbelly of the city. Several men handed me brochures advertising sex tours. I was interested, but decided to go to a nearby casino.
The casino was decorated by well dressed sexy girls, all for a price. They had to be subtle about it since prostitution is illegal in Belarus. There was usually a quaint friendly approach with a woman asking where I was from. They would say they were hostesses or hospitality greeters and would be happy to show me around. I was a gullible American and almost fell for their pitch until distinguished looking Brit came up to me and said, “She only wants your money, my good man. You’ll have better luck at a night club.”
So a night club was where I headed and a good choice. I got laid that night. Anya was a remarkable girl. She had a happy disposition, a radiant smile, and was uninhibited. She loved everything about sex, demonstrating her pleasure with screams so loud the man in the next room pounded on the wall demanding we be quiet. Anya loved to practice her English and talked obsessively. I had told her about going to Riga to meet relatives. She talked about the Latvians and how they weren’t very friendly. She said they are known for their prostitution, sex tourism and sex trafficking so be very careful. Always wear a condom, she said. I thanked her for her advice. We exchanged e-mail addresses and promised to keep in touch. In the morning, I boarded a train to Riga.
Now this is where the story gets weird. I had a phone number for Grandma’s cousin and called it. No one spoke English. Finally by saying, “Choo, choo, woo, woo train,” did I get a response. A half hour later an attractive woman in her mid thirties showed up with a bouquet of flowers. She had a small sign with my name on it. I hugged her and took the flowers. She wasn’t very happy with the hug. The good thing was, unlike the lady on the phone, she spoke English. Her name was Sofija and had a very business-like, no nonsense personality.
The place she took me to was a very fine looking home. Apparently, the family had money. I was introduced to an older couple that appeared to be Sofija’s parents. We shook hands. No hugs this time. The table was set for coffee and some kind of pastry that I didn’t recognize. It was like Grandma’s kolache. It was delicious. Then they showed me to my room where I took a quick nap before dinner.
The dinner was very much like what Grandma serves on special occasions. The attractive young maid, Kateryna, serving the family dinner spoke excellent English which made me feel more comfortable. Sofija said she was from Ukraine and would be available to show me Riga’s nightlife after dinner.
The evening in Riga was like a pub crawl in London. There were plenty of reminders of the sex tourism that was popular in the city with men from all over Europe drinking and aggressively looking for women. Kateryna took me only to the safest places. Early on our tour she said, “You can call me Kate. Kate sounds more American, yah?”
“Yes it does,” I answered. So from then on, she was Kate.
On the way back to the house, Kate said, “Sofija said I could stay with you tonight. Would that be okay?”
“Yes, Kate, that would be wonderful.”
It took awhile for us to get acquainted in bed. Kate was not asking for her own pleasure, but kept wanting to know what she could do for me. I wanted to see her naked body, so she seductively stripped for me. Kate had a magnificent body, slim waist, tight girlish ass, and firm youthful tits. Her pussy was shaved except for a small strip north of her slit. I asked her to masturbate for me. I helped her understand the word “masturbate” by stroking my cock.
She misunderstood my intent, talking my dick in her delicate hand, massaging it like she was juicing a carrot for dinner. Dinner soon followed when she hungrily consumed my cock like a starving alley-cat. She sucked me nearly to the point of no return when abruptly stopping.
“Ooh ugh, she squealed. “I don’t like all that hair.” She looked up at me saying she liked bald men.
I said, “You mean you like older men?”
“No, I mean bald down here,” grabbing my balls. “I love it when men are smooth. It’s so sexy and makes their dzimumloceklis look bigger. Is it okay if I shave you?” I had no objection to being trimmed by such a beautiful barber.
It was not just a trim job. In no time she had clipped my pubic hair and shaved it clean. When she finished, my balls were as bald as a newborn. When she was done, Kate said, “You have such a nice dzimumloceklis. Now I can taste it without all that nasty hair.”
My cock was hard and twitching when Kate took it in her soft mouth displaying unusual abilities at oral stimulation. Her tongue lashed out at my dick and balls, swirling her tongue around the sensitive bulb at the head. Then she slid it down her throat.
I couldn’t hold back any longer and shot my load filling her mouth with my all American oats, so to speak.
Kate swallowed some of the milky fluids, then gave me a French kiss passing cum from her tongue to mine. “Did you like that?” she asked hopefully. I praised her abilities.
“I want to fuck you when you’re ready. I love fucking American boys. They have a lot of energy.” It was apparent that Kate was much more than a maid for this family.
I was younger in those days, so the down time was short. While I recovered, I asked her to tell me how she got to Latvia.
“I grew up in Ukraine. When I was sixteen, there was a newspaper advertisement saying maids were needed in Minsk. I applied and was driven with several other girls to Belarus. After a few days, the man said the jobs were filled but there were more jobs here in Riga. So I came here. That’s when I met Sofija. She fed me, gave me a room and told me to put on a French maid’s uniform when serving dinner. One day, Sofija asked me if I liked sex. I said I didn’t know because my boyfriend and I did it only twice.
“Sofija said I might like it more if I met the right man. She said after serving dinner that night, one of her best friends would like to spend some time with me. I wasn’t sure what that meant. Well, he took me to the room, and we talked and drank vodka. He spoke Russian, so it was a nice conversation. I liked the vodka and began to like him too. He was kind and reminded me of my dad.
“He asked me what I liked best about having sex. I told him I really couldn’t tell him about sex. He said he would show me how to enjoy it.
“That scared me but I was new to Latvia and in Sofija’s home, so I didn’t want to disappoint her friend or make her mad. I agreed to take off my clothes for him when he asked to see my body. He showed me his penis and how to suck it. Well, eventually we went to bed and made love like adults. It was much different than with my boyfriend.
“Soon there were other friends of Sofija’s. I meet them in a rooming house outside of Riga where I stay with the other girls. Sometimes I meet two men each day. There was a night last month when Sofija asked if I could meet with two German boys at the rooming house. I said, okay, but didn’t know they were coming at the same time. By that time, I understood what it was like to be a maid in Latvia. You see, Sofija runs a business with me and several other girls. That’s why she has a nice house and a nice car. Sofija makes a lot of money, but treats us good so we just go along with it. Anyway, we have no other place to go.”
I asked, “Have you been with women?”
“Oh yes. There are some rich ladies that like to be kissed down here,” parting her legs like opening French doors. “Would you like to kiss it?”
I didn’t have to be asked twice. Her maiden’s button rose out of it’s sheath almost immediately as I sucked and licked it, her body began to stir with moisture trickling out of her sweet pussy signaling her readiness. I had never tasted a sweeter pussy, either before or after.
She moaned with each caress, then said, “Ooh, your dzimumloceklis is dripping. We need to find it a home to make it happy.”
Although I had a pretty good idea what she would say, I finally asked, “What’s a dzimumloceklis?”
“It’s down here,” and she gently touched my cock. I had now learned my second Latvian word, although I never learned to pronounce dzimumloceklis correctly.
By then I was rested and ready to go again. This time it was much more traditional. We fucked in several different positions, some were new to me. Before I fell asleep, I asked her, “What’s the oldest man you’ve been with?”
“I sometimes do Sofija’s dad. He’s in his sixties, and it takes a long time for him to get ready, you know, hard. But I like him. He’s a nice man.”
“What’s the youngest man you’ve met?”
“Well, I would call him a boy. He came with an older man to show him how to do it with a girl. The man had me suck him hard, then he stuck his dzimumloceklis into me and kept thrusting into me for a long time while the boy watched. When the man was ready, he pulled out and let the boy see what squirts out. It was all over me and messy. So after I got cleaned up, it was the boy’s turn.
“The poor boy was scared. It took forever to get him stiff. When he was ready, I had to push it in for him. It was worth the wait. His dzimumloceklis was so much fatter than the older man’s. He had a knob on the end like a champagne cork but bigger. It felt so good inside me. The trouble was that he couldn’t wait. Right away he started shooting into me, and he couldn’t stop. He keep it going and going. I never felt anything like that before. He was amazing. That’s why I like to do it with younger boys.”
I asked her, “How old do you think he was?”
“I don’t know. He looked like my boyfriend’s age when I left Ukraine. He was probably sixteen, I think. That was how old I was when I did it the first time.”
I closed my eyes just for a second that became a couple of hours. When I woke up, she was gone. I didn’t see her again.
The next day, there was a different teenage maid serving dinner. She was also dressed in the French maid’s outfit and served dinner. She was a quiet reserved girl with a blonde pony tail and dimples on her cheeks. Sofija said she would meet me later that night after her “date.” That was a polite way of saying her client. I would be getting seconds.
This was a chance for me to tour the nightlife of Riga on my own. I visited some of the same places Kate had taken me as well as new ones that weren’t as safe. Being on my own made it more exciting especially when girls showed an interest in me. I was not at a loss for possible “dates.”
When I reached Sofija’s home late at night, the girl with the ponytail was already in my room glaring at me with her dazzling azure eyes. She laid on the bed nearly naked except for a flimsy transparent babydoll that covered her just below the navel. I gawked at her lovely tits that could be seen through the transparent nightgown. She wore a tiny thong with a postage stamp patch that covered her pussy. Her cute ass and erect nipples sent my head spinning and my cock poking at my shorts.
Having been worked up in town with sexy girls coming on to me, I was so ready to jump on this seductive nymph, I didn’t bother to take off my shirt and shoes. I lowered my pants just above the knees and sunk the full length of my cock into that tender young pussy. Maybe it was left over from her earlier “date,” but she was as squishy wet as an overripe tomato.
I banged into her, my cock throbbing and pulsing for long enough for her to let out a sigh of pleasure as she came only moments before me. I filled her with a gusher of cum that erupted with the force of a volcano. After pulling out, she dripped pools of cum on the sheets while I walked down the hall to the bathroom for a pee.
Later when we had a chance to get better acquainted, she explained that her date that night was an older man from London. “He was about fifty and very polite. He told me he made movies with cute young girls like me. He said I was talented and could make a lot of money if I joined his girls in London.”
The Brit was right about her being cute. She was also very talented in the way he was thinking.
Like other Latvian girls I had met that night, she spoke English, so we talked for awhile longer before a second round. Only as it turned out, she wasn’t Latvian.
“Where are you from,” I asked.
“I’m from Moldova. My name is Viktoria. I came here a few weeks ago to be in-service for Sofija’s family. She took me in and gave me a place in the rooming house. I was a maid in this house for a week, then Sofija told me if I wanted to stay, I had to entertain her guests like the other girls. Of course, I hadn’t been here long enough to know what that meant, but I had a pretty good idea. I really couldn’t say no.”
“So you live in the rooming house with the other girls. Is that right?” Viktoria nodded: yes. “How old are you Viktoria?”
“I’m seventeen. I’ll be eighteen in August.”
“How old are the other girls?”
“They’re like me except one woman who is like a mother to us. She’s Sofija’s friend.”
“Do you like the men you entertain?”
“Well, I’m not sure. I just started doing it. Sofija said you would like me.”
“I like you Viktoria. I like you very much.”
We talked for another half hour before resuming our activities. Viktoria was a great lay, just like Kate. I came two more times before dawn the next day. The last time she drained me deep in her throat.
At breakfast, I asked to visit the rooming house. Sofija said I didn’t need to go there because she would provide all the services I needed here at her house. I insisted, so she gave me a hand written note and directions.
It was late afternoon on my final day in Latvia when I found the rooming house. Over the door was a sign with big letters in Latvian. Under it in smaller letters in English, “Welcome to Riga’s Health Club.” A woman with long blond hair, Sofija’s age, met me at the door accompanied by a dog that was a cross between a German Shepherd and a rhinoceros. With its huge tongue waging from the side of its mouth, he seemed friendly enough.
The woman who greeted me was dressed in a flimsy rose colored blouse showing ample cleavage and a black skirt that was tight enough to squeeze lemons into lemonade. She read the note, and gave me a smile that made me weak in the knees. I followed her to a room down the hall, staring at her boobs that wobbled as she walked. The canine followed her as if he was expecting to be fed. He growled at a well dressed man as he passed us in the hall.
The room was neat and clean, bright with no frills. She had me sit on a chair opposite the bed while she casually slithered to the window. She asked if I would like the shades drawn. I said, “No,” making me wonder, what’s the point of having sex in the dark?
She was an erotic beauty, like many Latvian women, yet with sex appeal that the younger girls had yet to acquire. She sat on the edge of the bed with her comely legs crossed and her skirt hiked up far enough to to see she wore no panties. The hound stayed by her side as she stroked his head. I just hoped that Bruiser and me would be friends. I asked her about the dog.
“Oh, Demetrius. He was brought here as a guard dog but he’s far too friendly to protect us. We kept him as a pet. The girls love to play with him, and he loves the attention.”
She asked where I was from. I told her Iowa but that seemed to confuse her. “Is that a town?” she asked.
“No, it’s a state in the United States.”
The woman called herself, Susan, but of course that’s what she called herself with Americans. My abilities at small talk were about as good as my Latvian. Finally she leaned over to remove her heels and her unsupported tits nearly fell out of her blouse. My incarcerated cock began to quiver, demanding for a pardon. The woman seemed to sense my quandary when she kneeled in front of me and wedged my legs apart unzipping my fly. Locating her quarry was as simple as finding meat at a butcher shop. I was already rigid when it sprang out as if she had released a caged lion.
Under her silky blouse, which she casually unfastened, were massive boobs. When her skirt slid past her thighs, it revealed a thick bush glistening like the morning dew which was a sexy contrast to the younger girls that were shaved.
Susan gave me a tender blowjob, then engulfed my cock between her tits. After a short tit fuck, I joined her in bed heading straight for her nipples poking up like candles on a birthday cake. She showed me tricks that afternoon that I will never forget. It was the way she ground her swollen cunt down to my pelvis bone that suggested she was enjoying it as much as I. She could make me cum just by tightening her kegels around my cock. I just left my dick inside her, and she did the rest, squeezing every drop from my pulsing shaft.
The wolf, Demetrius, just sat by the door watching until he was shushed out of the room.
Susan spoke good but broken English that she had picked up from “friends,” meaning customers. She said, “I understand you are a friend of Sofija’s.
“No, a relative.”
“A very handsome relative with a remarkable dzimumloceklis.” Then she complimented me on how full it made her feel inside. I thanked her with the one Latvian word I knew, Paldies.
She told me that Sofija and her had been friends for a long time. They came from poor families, so they worked the bars, clubs and casinos during their twenties. Eventually, younger girls cut into their territory. Rather than competing with them, Sofija hired them as part of her company that she called the “Health Club.”
I was curious about the “Health Club.”
“First Sofija bought a flophouse and turned it into a rooming house where the girls work and live. Sofija learned that younger girls were being bussed in from other countries. That’s when she hired girls from all over like Bulgaria, Moldova, Romania, Belarus, and Ukraine. She thought the Eastern European girls were the best at what we do. In a short time, she had enough money to buy a nice house and a nice car. Sofija is really smart and treats everyone really well.
Since no one had asked me for money, I asked, “How do you get paid?”
“Well, we practice safe sex. Sofija likes to call us maids instead of mean words like whore or prostitutes. That’s why men never pay us for our favors.”
“Really! How does Sofija get money from the men you entertain?”
“They don’t pay for sex. They pay for condoms. We hardly ever have sex without a man using a condom. There are three kinds of condoms: platinum, silver, and gold. The gold is the most expensive. It all depends on how long we are with them. It’s what you call a loophole. It helps Sofija from being closed down by the police. Some of the police are our best customers, and they can’t hire whores but they can afford condoms!”
I mentioned not being asked to wear a condom. “You are different,” she said, “because you are family and safe.”
I wanted to know if the girls do gangbangs. After explaining what I meant, she said, “Oh, you mean a party girl. We have a university not far from here. Sometimes the boys get together and want to be entertained by one of us. The younger girls don’t like it, so I went there last month. I did what they wanted. Two at a time is a popular way for them to enjoy sex. What do you call it, DP? I love making the boys happy.”
I asked, “Do the girls have other jobs?”
“You know, you ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m writing a book on Latvia,” I lied.
“Of course we have respectable jobs,” she continued. “I work part time at the farmers’ store. I’m doing this today as a favor to Sofija. She said you were a friend and the other girls said you had a nice dzimumloceklis that made them get pleasure. I agree. You must have many girlfriends back home. A girl likes a man that is big like you.”
I said, Paldies, the Latvian word Grandma taught me. By the way, who was that man Fido growled at?”
“Fido? Oh, you mean Demetrius. He always growls at our Mayor, and I don’t blame him. I don’t like the Mayor either. Mayor Baldavniek likes to check out the new girls that he claims is for security reasons. Everyone knows it’s a joke but we go along with it. He was with Viktoria today who just joined us. She’s cute but a bit inexperienced.”
These conversations always had a special benefit. They gave me a opportunity to recover and catch my breath for a second round. She suggested, the gold condom, anal. I couldn’t refuse. Afterward, I wanted to ask her more questions about sex at the rooming house but time was up. She had to get back to her job at the farmers’ store, although I suspected she had another appointment.
The last day in Latvia was also the last day of my journey. On the plane home, I wondered how much of my adventures I could tell Grandma. I decided on giving her a sanitized version complete with pictures of the Latvian family and their maids. I didn’t tell her about sowing my oats.
Anyway, getting back to Senator Engelhard’s troubles as I referred to at the beginning: the media interviewed several interns that had claimed Ray had harrassed them with improper sexual advances. I can say without reservation, that is not Ray. Yes, he probably fucked each and every one of his accusers and was guilty of inappropriate behavior, but harassment is not his style. More likely, the girls came on to him and craved the media attention. Ray never could resist a wet young pussy.
