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  #1  
Old 03-14-2010
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Default Vintage Keliana (with story)

It is with great pleasure and smoldering lust that I present to our members what I hope will be the first in a new series of pictures from the beautiful, sexy, desirable Keliana. I post this with her permission.

Keliana has featured herself on the cover of a vintage magazine. I am imagining myself as a young boy, sneaking the magazine home after buying it at the adult bookstore, totally enraptured by the cover shot. At home, in my room, I hungrily flip through its pages looking for the cover story. And then I find her -- Keliana, sitting on the bed, her cock erect, looking into the camera and beckoning me (in my fantasy) to kneel before her and pleasure her. I do whatever she asks of me, hoping for a sweet, hot reward. She gives me what I crave.

Now it is time to go back to the adult bookstore and find more of Keliana. Please, darling, point me to where I will find more!
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Old 03-15-2010
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Very nice picture of Keliana. She is a beautiful woman!

I look forward to seeing more pictures of her!
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Old 03-15-2010
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Very nice picture of Keliana. She is a beautiful woman!

I look forward to seeing more pictures of her!
Indeed! Beautiful and sexy. Let's hope she graces the covers of more magazines.
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Old 03-16-2010
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Ask and ye shall receive.

Continuing my saga of the young boy (me; see post 1), I return to the bookstore and ask for more. The proprietor, sensing my urgency, quickly shows me the new issues of "Delicious Desires," the cover of which is graced by the girl of my dreams on the bed, looking right at me, her left hand seeming to pat the bed by her side as if to say, "Join me." Again, I quickly flip through the pages to find the complete photo spread, nearly ripping the magazine apart in my lust.

to be continued ...
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Last edited by smc; 03-16-2010 at 08:59 PM.
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Old 03-16-2010
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the story, continued ...

By now, I have become completely hooked. My mind is consumed with Keliana. I anxiously rush home each day, stopping at the bookstore for more, only to discover that nothing new has arrived. My copies of "Transexual Climax 7" and "Delicious Desires" are beginning to come apart at the bindings, because they have been abused by my manic flipping of the pages and by finding themselves beneath me as I pleasure myself and hump the pillows on my bed, dreaming of Keliana. And then, one day, there is a new magazine at the bookstore. I rush home with my new copy of "TV Confessions," with Keliana and her delicious cock proudly erect on the cover. As I ride the bus home, I am afraid to open the magazine and look at the rest of Keliana's spread, for fear of cumming in my pants.

to be continued ...
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Last edited by smc; 03-16-2010 at 08:59 PM.
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Old 03-16-2010
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the story, continued ...

As the bus nears the stop by my home, I realize that standing up will reveal what Keliana has done to me. My cock is as hard as hers on the cover of the magazine. As bus comes to a halt, my face reddens. I stand up and try to hide my raging hardon by covering my crotch with the plain bag that holds "TV Confessions." As I walk to the front door, ready to step off the bus, the magazine falls from the bag, with Keliana's picture facing down and the back cover showing. Fortunately, the back cover is non-descript, with a mundane advertisement. But as a middle-aged woman reaches down to pick it up for me before I can do it myself, she turns the magazine over to hand it to me. She lets out a gasp, and I feel my cock leak in my pants.

I grab the magazine, exit the bus, and run to my house. Cum is leaking in my pants. I run into the house, yell hello to my mom, and rush upstairs to my bedroom. Already, I am hard again. My cock is sticky, but I don't care. I stroke it furiously while I turn through the pages looking for the Keliana story. And there it is: a story with pictures, "Shopping for Heels." Keliana is in a shoe store, and she is attracting the attention of a certain Mr. Polo.

I look at the pictures and read the story of the shoe store again and again, until it is burned into my brain. Then I lie back, rub my cock as if my very survival depends upon it, and shoot a huge load. In my imagination, Keliana tells me to cum all over her red dress, right there in the shoe store.

to be continued ...
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Last edited by smc; 03-16-2010 at 08:59 PM.
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Old 03-16-2010
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If you like this thread and would like to make suggestions for where the story goes, please PM me or post here in the thread. Keliana and I are having a great time working together to create this, and I would love to consider your ideas.
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Old 03-16-2010
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the story, continued ...

I spend the rest of the day with Keliana ... at least my magazine Keliana. I lock the door of my bedroom and spread out all the magazines I've acquired and get on my knees. I rub my cock, which is staying harder than I can ever remember, but having already cum all over Keliana's red dress (in my imagination) I feel empowered to stroke and stroke without cumming again, at least not yet. No, I have something else in mind. I have begun to feel a strange stirring inside of me, and I need the right circumstances at home to explore. So I wait, and stroke, and wait, and kiss Keliana's face in the magazine, and wait, and stroke, and rub my hard cock on the pages of the magazine. I leak a little, but I do not cum. My leaking smears across the front of "TV Confessions," so I carefully put my tongue to the paper and try to lick it off. I imagine it is Keliana's sweet cum I am tasting, and I nearly shoot another load. But I don't allow it, because of my plan.

Soon my mom yells up the stairs that she is heading to the store. Now is my chance, I think. As soon as I hear the car pull out of the driveway, I rush to my sister's room. My older sister is at work, and she won't be home for several hours. She has something in her room that I need.

It takes what seems like a very long time to find what I'm looking for, probably because I am so anxious. Finally, I think of the right place to look, and there it is underneath her pillow: a large, cock-like vibrator. I smell what I imagine to be her pussy on the shaft. I dig around her room a bit more, and find a small bottle of "self-heating lubricating oil," no doubt a gift from her idiot boyfriend. With the vibrator and bottle in hand I rush back to my room.

Keliana lies before me on the pages of the magazines. I want to feel what Keliana would feel if I had my chance with her. I get on my bed, on my knees, and squirt some of the oil in the crack of my ass. I rub it in, sticking one, then, two, then three fingers into my ass as deep as I can. It hurts a bit; I've never been in there before. But the thought of Keliana keeps me hard and keeps me going. With youthful exuberance, I replace my fingers with the vibrator, which I have turned on. I ram it deep into my ass, opening myself up for the first time -- painfully. But almost instantly, my cock grows even harder and the pain in my behind turns to exquisite pleasure. I lie down so that my hands no longer have to hold up my body. This allows me to stroke my cock and pound the vibrator into my behind at the same time. It seems like only seconds go by before I have sprayed hot cum all over my magazines.

Mom will be home soon, so I quickly clean up, put away the vibrator and oil, and write a note that I leave just inside the front door. "Mom," it reads, "I ran out to get a copy of some homework from Tommy that I forgot to bring home. I'll be back soon."

Of course, I'm really rushing to the adult bookstore for more Keliana. The clerk now knows me. He ignores my age, and shows me to the rack where something new has arrived: the latest issue of "Porno Chick," with Keliana -- and her beautiful cock -- right there on the cover.

I begin to wonder whether I will even be able to make it to school tomorrow.

to be continued ...
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Last edited by smc; 03-16-2010 at 08:59 PM.
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  #9  
Old 03-16-2010
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Originally Posted by shadows View Post
Very nice picture of Keliana. She is a beautiful woman!

I look forward to seeing more pictures of her!
Yes, Keliana is a beautiful, sexy, desirable woman. Do a search of the site and you will find two more threads dedictated to her as well as other pictures of her in various threads.
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Old 03-16-2010
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the story, continued ...

I’m anxious to rush home and peruse “Porno Chick,” hoping there will be an even better spread of Keliana photos inside than in the other magazines I’ve bought – most of which are damaged a bit because I, well, I really let loose a lot of cum all over the pages. But as I’m paying for the magazine, the clerk says, “You’re really into Keliana, aren’t you, kid? Have you seen any of her anal work.”

His words remind me of how I had pounded my ass with sis’s vibrator just a short while earlier, and I begin to feel heat in my behind. It’s actually making me squirm a bit, and my cock is getting hard again in my pants. I struggle a bit to hide it, but the clerk notices. There’s something about him I don’t like, even though he did take me right to Keliana’s new magazine.

“Come back here,” he says, and begins to walk to the back of the store. He opens a small door and takes me into a separate room. “This,” he says with a grin, “is where we keep the special anal stuff.”

The room is full of magazines and videos, and there is a rack on the wall with all sorts of things that look like variations on my sister’s vibrator. I recognize some as dildos, but some others are strangely shaped and I don’t know what they are.

The clerk takes down two magazines with Keliana on the cover. “Anal Sex 51” has Keliana bending over to adjust the strap of her shoe. “Stimulation No. 5” has Keliana's beautiful behind exposed as she kneels on a park bench. On both covers, I notice something in her ass.

"You like those, kid?" asks the clerk. "You like that butt plug. Maybe you ought to get one for yourself. Makes it so you can jerk off for a long time before you shoot, and then you cum real hard."

I had never seen a butt plug before, so he shows me some on the rack. As I look at them, the clerk comes up behind me and rubs his hand up and down the crack of my ass, right through my pants.

"I can dress up like that Keliana," he says, "and show you a really good time."

I turn to him in anger. "How dare you!" I declare. "You'd just be a guy in a dress. Keliana is a real woman."

I select a butt plug, walk to the counter with him, buy my three magazines and the plug, and head home. As I run to the bus stop, I again feel my cock begin to leak in anticipation of the masturbatory frenzy that awaits me in bed tonight, when the house is quiet.

to be continued ...
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Last edited by smc; 03-16-2010 at 09:08 PM.
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  #11  
Old 03-16-2010
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Originally Posted by ila View Post
Yes, Keliana is a beautiful, sexy, desirable woman. Do a search of the site and you will find two more threads dedictated to her as well as other pictures of her in various threads.
I know about those threads, Ila, but thanks for the tips nonetheless.

I meant more pictures in this thread, and smc has now done so.
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  #12  
Old 03-17-2010
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smc,great Keliana storyI loved that first pic with her wearing that black corset and stockingand I can totally relate having lived in Hollyweird California and making numerous trips to the adult novelty store,having creepy people hit on and catching the bus back home what great memories.
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Old 03-17-2010
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the story, continued ...

It is now after midnight. The house is quiet; it’s what I have been waiting for. My mother and sister are asleep. Inspired by Keliana, I am using my first butt plug.

While waiting for everyone to retire to their rooms, I read and reread the description on the box. Words like “mind-blowing” and “heavenly” are used to describe the orgasms to follow. I can’t wait to “unleash the hidden pleasures of prostate simulation to reach a whole new level of anal masturbation.” I am hard with anticipation, anxious to “bring playtime to unparalleled heights.” Mostly, I want this because Keliana wants it.

I have my new Keliana magazines spread on the bed. In “Anal Sex 51,” there is a set of photos that show Keliana walking down the street, occasionally lifting her skirt to reveal her butt plug. In a few of the photos, she has turned around to reveal her sweet cock. My mouth is hungry for it, and -- with the butt plug deep inside of me -- I begin to stroke myself.

The other magazine lies before me as well. “Stimulation No. 5” has an amazing array of Keliana photos, all taken in various locations in London, where she lives. In addition to the park bench photo on the cover, there is Keliana, cock in hand, posing next to a Beefeater at Buckingham Castle. I wonder how she managed that? Outside Covent Garden, Keliana’s cock is visible through a sheer, elegant gown she is wearing to that night’s opera performance. A reverse shot shows her delectable ass with its plug firmly embedded. In another photo, Keliana is sitting on the Underground, her short skirt hiked up, her erect cock visible and her hand beneath her ass pushing the plug deeper. I wonder what the commuters are thinking.

There are more public pictures. At the Horse Guards Parade, Keliana poses from behind, butt plug deep and cock hanging low for all to see. In the background, the Household Cavalry passes, and I swear I see one rider’s tongue hanging out at the sight of the beautiful Keliana. And then there is my favorite: four photos of Keliana at Speaker’s Corner in Hyde Park, standing on a soapbox, in different poses, completely naked and aroused. When I see these, I reach behind myself, push the butt plug in even deeper, and scream in pleasure as wave after wave of hot cum cascades from my cock.

I hear my sister coming down the hall. I quickly throw the magazines on the floor and kick them under my bed, and scramble beneath the bed covers. The butt plug is still in me. I am naked and sticky with my own jizz. My sister opens the door, and says, “What the fuck?!”

I tell her to go away, but she starts to laugh. “No way, little bro,” she cackles, in a mocking tone. “I know that kind of scream. What are you doing in here? Oh, and by the way, I take it this is yours?”

She shows me “Weekend Sex,” a magazine I had bought along with my very first Keliana magazine. Now I remember. But I was so enthralled with that first one that I completely forgot there were two in the bag. Had I dropped it in the house in my rush to my bedroom?

“So, you like Asian girls, you little pervert?” my sister chuckles. “Wait a minute,” she says, “since when do you know German?”

Another moment passes as my sister looks more closely at the cover. "Holy shit," she shouts, "does that chick have a cock?"

to be continued …
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Last edited by smc; 03-17-2010 at 12:47 PM.
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  #14  
Old 03-17-2010
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Now that's a Kelianapic if there ever was one in black pantyhose with an erection.
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Old 03-18-2010
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the story, continued ...

As the saying goes, "the jig was up." As I remain under the covers, my sister begins to flip through "Weekend Sex," with page after page of what she mockingly calls "chicks with dicks." When she comes to the Keliana spread, she cackles, "Hey, it's your girlfriend from the cover!"

I am a combination of embarrassment and pride. "You bitch," I shout, "I would be honored to have her as my girlfriend. She's more woman than you'll ever be!"

"Hah!" she replies. "You don't know a thing about women, you little pervert. I have three holes, and she has only two. That automatically makes me more of a woman!"

"Oh, yeah?" Now I'm getting furious. "You can only fuck your boyfriend with a fake dick. Keliana's got a real one, a beautiful one. Try topping that!"

I am so angry that I feel as if I could start hyperventilating at any moment. I try quickly to calm down as I glare at my sister, standing in my room with "Weekend Sex" in her hands, open to my darling Keliana, and seeming to mock me at every turn. Then, suddenly, as if on cue, we both begin to laugh.

"Hey, bro," she says, "I really don't care what you like. As long as you're gettin' some -- you perv."

As I calm down even more, I realize that my sister is the only person -- other than the creepy clerk at the adult bookstore -- who knows about my Keliana obsession. What a relief it is not to have to hide it from her. Maybe she can help me figure out what's going on with me, I think to myself.

"Listen, sis, I kinda need you to leave my room for a few minutes," I say.

"What's wrong, bro? Did I interrupt you spanking your monkey? Still need to spread your seed?" All of this is said in a tone that strangely combines making fun of me with a sisterly affection.

"No, I need to clean up," I reply.

"I bet you do," she says, and rushes over and pulls the covers from over me. There I am, butt plug firmly in my ass, and the obvious remnants of sticky cum all over legs and now flaccid cock.

"Jeez, maybe I should go get Mom," she laughs, and then adds, "Don't worry, bro, I used to take baths with you when we were little. Come get me when you're ready."

She leaves the room, and I quietly find my way to the bathroom, clean up, and put on my pajamas. Then I knock on her door. We spend most of the night talking, and I tell her about my Keliana obsession. She tells me she supports me fully. What a good sis!

Several days go by before I am ready to buy yet another Keliana magazine for my collection. I head to the bookstore, and there is a nice, older gentleman working at the counter instead of the creepy clerk. I look around on my own for a while, but have no luck, so I ask him if he knows the model Keliana and whether he can show me any magazines that feature the object of my desire.

"Ah, Keliana, yes ... I knew her back in London," he answers, in a distinct English accent. "A fine choice, young lad. A very fine choice. She is a beauty among beauties. Let me show you one that I particularly enjoy."

He walks to one of the racks, pushes a few other magazines to the side, and brings out two. "Well, young man, it seems it is your lucky day. I have found two gems."

He hands me "Pleasure" and "Nylon Surprise No. 26"; I recognize Keliana's legs immediately, and the "Nylon Surprise" also features her delicious cock right there on the cover. He says, "I don't know about you, but my enjoyment of these fine publications would certainly be heightened by some ... how shall I say ... accessories."

"I already have a butt plug," I blurt out, and then turn beet red.

"Good, good," he says, putting his hand on my shoulder. "That's an excellent start. May I suggest a pair of pantyhose, as well."

"Huh?" I don't understand.

"For you, my fine fellow. For you. Wear them with your butt plug in, and enjoy Keliana even more. You can purchase them at the drug store down the street. Just say that your mum asked you to pick some up for her. And mind the sizes."

This sounds strangely enticing to me. I quickly pay, leave the store with my new magazines, and make my way to the drug store.

to be continued …
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Last edited by smc; 03-18-2010 at 03:46 PM.
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Old 03-19-2010
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the story, continued ?

Jerking off to the incredible pictures of Keliana in "Pleasure" and "Nylon Surprise No. 26? while wearing pantyhose and with a butt plug deep in my ass brings me to a new level of masturbatory frenzy. This time, my orgasm begins with a low, resonant moan, followed by a grunting like a feral beast, followed by what seems like an inability to catch my breath, followed by uncontrollable bucking of my hips as I lie on the bed with Keliana?s pictures in direct view, all accompanied by the most furious stroking of my rock-hard cock of my life, and finished off with a banshee-like scream and the shooting of streams of cum clear across the room. I can seem my cum dripping down the wall. I can even see steam rising from it, because it is just that hot. And I can also hear my mother?s voice.

?What is going on in there?? I hear her yell from down the hall. Shit, I woke her up. No, in truth, Keliana woke her up. Keliana, with her delicious nylon-clad legs. Keliana, with her delectable ass. Keliana, with her dark, beautiful, long hair and her deep, sexy eyes. Keliana. with her cock, the cock I long for, the cock I am saving myself for, the cock I want in my mouth and in my ass.

My mother, awakened by Keliana and her magical effect on me and my teenage hormones, is now coming down the hall. Time seems to slow, and suddenly I hear my sister, who must have also been awakened by my jizz-induced scream. ?Mom,? she says, ?he must?ve had a bad dream. Go back to bed. I?ll check on him.?

There is a dead silence outside my room. I am desperately trying to catch my breath and come down from my awe-inducing orgasm. Then I hear my mother say, ?Tell him to try to keep his bad dreams down to a low roar.?

Little does she know.

My sister knocks and opens the door. ?Bro,? she says, with a slightly demonic smile, ?you really gotta stop being such a loud pervert. Shhhhhh!? And then she is gone.

I wait until there is silence in the house again, make my way to the bathroom, and clean myself up. I return to my bedroom, wipe down the walls, put away my newest Keliana magazines, and fall into a deep sleep ? in which I dream of Keliana?s cock lying across my face, there for the sucking whenever I want. When I awake, it is clear that I had my first wet dream since my early teens.

* * *

Months go by, during which I visit the adult bookstore for many more Keliana magazines that become the catalyst for a regular series of enormous eruptions of cum all over my room. The old gentleman from England, who seems to be there every time I visit the store, takes me under his wing, guiding me to the best Keliana magazines and suggesting new toys to play with. Nearly all of the money I earn at my part-time job goes into the cash register at the store. I never complain.

My obsession with Keliana, though, is not the only thing occupying my mind. I will graduate from high school in only a few weeks, and before heading off to college I am going on my first trip overseas. Several of my aunts and uncles chipped in to buy this for me as a graduation present, and the trip will take me to Germany, France, and England.

One day, at the adult bookstore, I mention to the old gentleman that I will be gone for a month in the summer. He asks me where I?ll be going, and I tell him. ?You know, my young friend,? he says, with a twinkle in his eye, ?England is where you will find Keliana.?

?Yes, I know she lives in London,? I say, ?but I can?t imagine that I could meet her. I mean, she?s a big star. She?s one of the top models for magazines in the world. How could I possibly meet her? Why would she want to meet a kid like me??

?I think you might be surprised. But it would have to be a chance encounter,? he responds.

I remember then that when I first met him he said he once knew Keliana back in London. ?How does that work,? I ask.

?Ask me just before you leave on your trip. I will tell you then,? he says. I cannot wait.

* * *

Several more weeks pass, and I enjoy regular cataclysms of cum in my room, all thanks to the smoldering sexiness of my beloved Keliana. The day before I am to depart for Germany, my first European destination, I visit the bookstore. The older English gentleman greets me with a smile and hands me a new magazine, ?Sexual Fantasy.? It features Keliana sitting on a brick wall, naked except for sunglasses and sandals. Her cock, the object of my intense desire, the touchstone against which I judge all real women, is there in view. I cannot wait to get home and enjoy the full Keliana spread that I know lies within.

?This,? says the older gentleman, ?is a very special magazine. Once you see Germany and France, how long will you be in England??

?One week,? I reply.

?In London?? he asks.

?Yes, but I was going to tour the countryside, too.?

?Lad, listen carefully.? His voice lowers to a whisper, as if he is about to impart some secret. ?Keliana is sitting in one of London?s parks in this picture on the cover. I know it to be one of her favorite places in the city. That is where I met her. I cannot tell you where it is, because to meet Keliana, to be with Keliana, it must be a chance encounter. But I can tell you that if you are observant, and if you are truly motivated, you can find this place. It will take some time, but it can be done. Think of it as a test of your desire. How much do you want Keliana? How much do you want to be in her presence? That will be the measure, and that will determine your success. Keep looking, carefully, and keep your eye on the prize.?

I nod and thank him. My mission is clear. Yes, I will see Europe. But I will also find my Keliana.

to be continued ?
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Old 03-20-2010
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That's quite the story! It's going to be a novel shortly!
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Old 03-20-2010
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Thanks for all the encouragement. I'll keep writing as long as Keliana keeps providing me with vintage magazines!
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Old 03-22-2010
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The character you've been reading about will soon be landing in Germany, to begin his cross-European trip to find Keliana. Stay tuned, and thanks again to those of you who've expressed your support for continuing the saga.
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Old 03-22-2010
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the story, continued ?

The day has come for my departure to Europe. I spend the day putting my room in order and doing the last bit of packing. My sister and mom are both at work, but are leaving early to have dinner with me and then take me to the airport for my overnight flight to Frankfurt. There is one particular task I must complete before they arrive home. I have decided that I can take only one of my Keliana magazines on the trip, both to encourage me to find more in the foreign lands and to allow plenty of room for bringing them back with me. Making the selection, it turns out, is not so easy.

This is going to require some very careful consideration. I spend a good amount of time thinking about the criteria I should use, but then I decide that I am wasting valuable time. Why let my brain get in the way of trying to answer what my cock and ass will surely know, and tell me quite readily? For this, I will need more room than the confines of my room.

With my mom and sister gone for the day, I decide that the living room will be my venue. I close all the shades and lock the door to the house. I take my ten Keliana magazines and place them strategically around the room. One is propped upon the easy chair, open to the Keliana spread. Three adorn the sofa, one with the cover visible and the other two open to Keliana. On the top of the piano, I create an erotic array of three more. Two claim the coffee table as their place of honor, and for the last two I bring in chairs from the dining room. Everywhere I turn, there is Keliana: her soft, silky, scrumptious legs; her enticing, appetizing ass; her astonishing, beautiful face; her long, extraordinary hair; and, of course, her delectable cock. It is a smorgasbord of Keliana, as if the gods had looked down upon me, seen the hardness in my pants, and decided to reward me with a sumptuous feast.

I run back to my room, strip naked, lube my own hole, and ram the butt plug in as deep as I can. I am as hard as I have ever been, and I being stroking my cock as I walk down the hall to the living room. The moment I enter the room, and see my array of Keliana magazines for the first time from that angle, precum streams from my hard cock. Some falls to the wooden floor, and some glazes my hand. I stroke my cock even harder. I move around the room, looking at the magazines. I have decided that when I cum, the magazine nearest will be the one that gets into my suitcase.

It takes only a few minutes for my cock to make its selection. Hot jizz spurts from me as I furiously pull on my erection, and I make a note to clean up carefully before my mom and sister get home.

* * *

Dinner is uneventful. My mother seems happy to see me go, for some reason. My sister is preoccupied. We finish eating, load up the car, and head for the airport for my overnight flight. When finally it is time to board the plane, my mother hugs me and kisses me, wishes me ?bon voyage? in the worst French accent ever, and reminds me to write to her and to my aunts and uncles who are funding my trip. My sister hugs me and then takes me aside. She reaches into her big shoulder bag and pulls out a small package, wrapped like a birthday present.

?Here, bro, something to keep you occupied on your travels,? she says. ?It?ll keep you company. Don?t open it until you?re on the plane.?

We embrace, and she tells me to have a great time. ?Don?t do anything I wouldn?t do,? she shouts, as I head down the gangway to the plane.

Once we are in the air, I hope to sleep, but I find I cannot close my eyes. The excitement is too great. I?m going to see part of Europe, and I?m going to look for Keliana in London. I recall the words of the old gentleman at the adult bookstore: ?Keep your eye on the prize.?

Suddenly, I remember my sister?s gift. I reach into the small bag under the seat in front of me, and pull it out. The middle-aged woman in the seat next to me, who has been drifting in and out of sleep, sees it. ?A going-away present?? she asks.

?Yes, it?s from my sister,? I answer. ?She told me it would help keep me company while I?m away from my family.?

?That?s very sweet,? the lady says.

I rip open the wrapping paper with nary a thought. Out falls ?Sex Inspiration No. 11,? featuring Keliana?s butt on the cover. Drool falls from my mouth. My cock springs to attention. The woman in the seat next to me screams.

to be continued ?
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Old 03-23-2010
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amazing stories! i wish i could write like you! i share the same obsession as you do for keliana! so it the queen or erotica!!
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Old 03-24-2010
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Woowwww !!! 5th photo : Bosphorus/Istanbul, Keliana and her beautiful body and her perfect uncut cock ...
I love this girl
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Old 03-24-2010
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the story, continued …

As I’m sure you can imagine, a woman screaming on an airplane after seeing a hot girl with a butt plug bending over on the cover of a magazine is neither an everyday occurrence, nor is it something taken lightly by the authorities. Immediately, a flight attendant comes running up the aisle from the galley. I have hidden the magazine, but when she inquires about the screaming, something possesses me to pull the magazine back out. I show it to her and say, “I don’t know what all the fuss is about. This is mine, anyway.”

A combination of shock and awe erupts among the passengers seated in the rows ahead and behind my seat. The flight attendant grabs the “Sex Inspiration No. 11” from my hand, and as I struggle to hold on to it some of the pages rip out. A mother in the seat in front of me yelps as a page flutters on to her lap. It features a picture of a man with a shemale’s cock deep in his ass and another shemale’s cock erupting in hot splooge on his face. Her daughter in the seat next to her, who I estimate to be about 14 years old, laughs somewhat demonically at her mother.

A few pages go flying across the aisle, too, falling into the lap of a man who, upon closer examination, sports a clerical collar. He sits there, mouth agape, with several pages of advertisements in full view, featuring every manner of dildo. There are big black ones, curved ones, ones with soft, hanging balls, and ones with vibrating inserts. Within seconds, his eyes look to the heavens and he seems to be deep into what he thinks may be his last earthly prayer.

The magazine is in shambles. I do not even know where the rest of the pages have gone. All I know is that serious trouble is coming my way, because soon the co-pilot, adorned in his uniform and looking very stern, is looming above me and speaking to me in very halting English. I figure out that it is the opinion of the crew that I have caused enough of a ruckus to warrant an investigation, under German law, of interfering with the safe operation of an airline. I am warned that I will be interrogated by the police upon our arrival in Frankfurt.

I spend the some time in dead silence. The screaming woman who had been sitting next me now sits in a different row, and next to me is a member of the U.S. Marine Corps on his way back to his base in Germany. He seems as stern as the co-pilot, but after a while he smiles at me, and says quietly, “Don’t worry about the German cops. It’s all a formality.”

“It sounds pretty serious to me,” I reply. “Like a felony or something.”

“Yah, but Europe’s different, man.” He laughs a little as he says this. “They’re used to all sorts of things that we never see back home.”

“Like what?” I ask.

“Well … like …” His voice trails off. After a moment, he asks, “What kinda magazine was that, anyway?”

I’m not sure about answering. I think about it, though, and decide that he’s cool. “Special girls,” I say.

“You mean like a fetish mag?” he asks. “Wow, you seem sort of young to know about that kind of shit. Whatcha into?”

I repeat myself. “Special girls.”

“I like feet,” he says, with a wide grin. “I like toes. I like soles. I like lickin’ ‘em, and I like feelin’ ‘em on me. Know what I mean?”

“I like the feet on my special girls, I guess,” I say, somewhat sheepishly. “Especially one girl. But I never thought about feet in particular.”

“Exactly what do you mean by ‘special’?” he asks.

I really don’t know what to say. He presses me for an answer.

“Special in what way?”

I decide to bite the bullet. I look around to see whether anyone is looking, and I begin to whisper. No words come out of my mouth, so I point. I point to my lap.

“Oh, shit, you mean chicks with dicks?!” The Marine says this loud enough for others to hear, and before you know it, I am sitting all by myself in the back of the plane.

* * *

The remainder of the flight is, by the measure of the first part, quite uneventful. When we land in Frankfurt, I am admonished by the flight attendant that I will be met by the German authorities at the end of the gangway, before I get to Passport Control. As I make my way into the terminal, I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“Son, I think these are yours.” A man from the plane, who must have been sitting near me, hands me two pages from the inside of the magazine that had been torn apart. They feature Keliana in a photospread titled “Car Trouble” -- two pictures with accompanying text. “You should probably stuff them in your carry-on bag.”

The man whispers in my ear. “I took them in the lavatory with me. I sure would like to read the rest of that story!”

I don’t even look at the pages, despite that they feature my darling Keliana.

to be continued …
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Old 03-25-2010
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the story, continued …

While Frankfurt is merely a transfer point on my way to Hamburg, I wonder whether it will, indeed, become my final destination in Germany. This thought is consuming me as I approach the man in what appears to be a police uniform who I can see at the end of the gangway.

“You are the young man who caused the problem on the plane?” he asks. It surprises me that he puts it in the form of a question, but I attribute it his facility with English. I nod in the affirmative, and he takes my arm, leading me down a hallway and into a small room, where another policeman sits at a table.

“Sit, please,” the second man says. I comply.

He does the talking. I find his English a bit difficult to understand through his thick German accent, but I listen carefully.

He begins by asking for my passport, and then for my name, age, and address in the United States. He spends an inordinate amount of time looking at my passport picture, and then at me, and then at the picture again, over and over. Finally, the interrogation begins.

“We understand that you caused a disturbance on the plane that put passengers at risk. Is this true?” It is difficult to take him seriously from his tone.

“No,” I reply. “All I did was take a magazine out of my bag, and a woman screamed. I did not realize it would be offensive.”

“Is this the magazine?” He puts the cover of “Sex Inspiration No. 11” on the table, and lays out an array of torn and crumpled pages, one after the other.

“Yes,” I say, and I can feel myself turning red.

“We received a complaint from the crew of the Lufthansa flight, because they said that you deliberately provoked a small riot on the plane.” He says this with a smile. “What was your purpose?”

I am finding this difficult to take seriously. “I did no such thing. My sister gave me a gift for my trip. I didn’t know what it was when I opened it.”

He looks at me and begins to snicker. “What kind of a sister gives her brother a magazine of this sort?”

The policeman who brought me to the room begins to snicker, too. ““What are you laughing at?!“ shouts the interrogator. "Warum lachen Sie?!”

They speak in German, and while I grasp a bit of it, I am pretty much at a loss. At the end of the brief conversation, the one who brought me to the room uses a word I do know from my tri-lingual Keliana magazines.

He points at me and whispers, “Schwanzlutscher.” It means “cocksucker.”

This angers me, not because I deny the accusation. I want so desperately to suck a cock, to suck Keliana’s cock. So, I haven’t yet become an “official” cocksucker. But it’s the way he says it that riles me. He says it with scorn.

My interrogator tells him to leave the room. Once he is on the other side of the door, the policeman smiles at me and says, “Do not let him bother you. He is a scheissekopf, a shithead.”

There is silence for a moment, and when I calm down, I ask the officer what is going to happen to me.

“Well,” he answers, dragging out his response. “That will be determined by whether you can pay the fine that I must impose.” The way he says this makes me think immediately that the “fine” is not something official.

“How much will it cost?” I ask.

“Oh, it is not money.” He pauses, and gathers his thoughts. Suddenly, he bangs his fist on the table. Shouting, he asks, “Where are the two missing pages from this magazine? Where is the rest of Keliana’s ‘Car Trouble’ story?”

He stares at me menacingly. I reach into my bag and pull out the last two pages that the man on the gangway gave me. He grabs them from my hand, and gathers all the pages from the table, shoving them quickly into a small satchel. He stands, puts out his hand, and looks me right in the eyes. “Let me show you to your connecting flight to Hamburg.”

* *

On the short flight to Hamburg, I spend most of my time trying to catch my breath. I feel as if I have dodged a bullet. While I have lost one of my Keliana magazines, and a gift from my sister no less, I am relieved that I am not in some German jail cell.

Finally, the flight arrives in Hamburg. I go through passport control with no problem, board a bus from the airport into the city, and search for the hostel at which I have a reservation. As I turn onto correct street, I notice a red neon sign: “Erotikshop.” It is directly across from the hostel, which seems rather odd. I enter.

There, on the very first rack I see, displayed prominently, is my beloved Keliana. I recognize her immediately, on the cover of “Fascination Nr. 2.” All is well with my world.

I hurry across the street to the hostel, my new magazine in my bag. At the desk, a young, pretty German girl checks me in and tells me the rules of the hostel. She speaks perfect English and uses a lot of British expressions. As I walk to the stairway to head to my room, she shouts across the lobby. “One more thing I forgot. I noticed you went into the sex shop across the street. If you’re going to do some wanking, try to keep the noise down when you …”

I am already on my way up the stairs, and can only imagine what might have been her last word.

to be continued …
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Old 03-26-2010
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the story, continued …

I settle into the hostel quite nicely. There are very few people staying here, and it’s easy to find private places … something I was told would be nearly impossible in a hostel. This affords me the opportunity to pound my ass with the dildo I hid in my suitcase while I stroke my cock, aroused by the photo spread in “Fascination No. 2” that features Keliana. In deference to the young girl at the front desk, I muffle my scream when I cum by taking the dildo from my ass and deep-throating it just as the jizz shoots out of me. That’s a first. I like the feel of that veiny dildo, which looks just like a cock, shoved in my mouth.

* * *

With that refreshing, post-orgasmic feeling I’ve come to cherish seeming to wrap my entire body, I head out to explore Hamburg. I’m in this city because my uncle, who helped pay for the trip, thought I would like it and that it would make a good base for day trips to other parts of Germany on the train. Just before I left home, he took me aside and told me where I should go in Hamburg.

“You’re a man now,” he told me, “and you should go to St. Pauli and ‘sow your wild oats’. I had a nice girl there after the big war, just before I came home. She was my first. Maybe you’ll find your first, too, kid.”

Then he handed me some money for what he called my “side trip.”

I am laughing as I make my way to the red-light district. My uncle has no idea. Well, okay, he’s right that I’m a virgin. I went through high school too shy ever to ask a girl out. And then I found Keliana, and I lost my interest in any girl but her. I want her to be my first. I want her to be my only. I am a bit depressed to think how unlikely that is.

It’s a very nice summer night, and the walk to St. Pauli is a blast. I try to figure out what the signs in German mean, and I stop and look at all the buildings. They’re so different than home. Finally, I reach St. Pauli, and walk down the Reeperbahn, with it’s bars and sex shops and brothels. On Davidstra?e, street girls talk to me, even in English when I answer them. They ask me if I want a “date.” I remember the money from my uncle and wonder how to spend it.

I turn onto Herbertstra?e, where there are girls in the windows beckoning to me. I’ve never seen anything like this. But my heart is set on Keliana, and I know I won’t have my chance -- my one-in-a-zillion-chance -- until I find her in London.

Soon, I come upon another sex shop, with a “TV” display in the window. I notice magazines with special girls like Keliana, so I enter. To my shock, there at the front counter, is the same girl from the front desk at the hostel.

“Hey, it’s you, the American wanker,” she says. Quite a greeting. “This is my second job. What can I help you find?”

I’m embarrassed, so I tell her I’d just like to look around. I gravitate to the “TV/TS” section, where the real girls are, and begin to look for my darling Keliana. Suddenly, I feel someone behind me, and I hear a whisper in my ear. It’s that same girl.

“So, you like special girls,” she says, with a chuckle. “Any particular girl?”

I turn around, beet red. She is so close to me that I can feel her breath on my neck, which is as high up on me as she comes.

“It’s okay to tell me. I know everything in the shop. Why waste time searching when you can get what you want and go back to the hostel and pretend you’re fucking?” She says this with a smile. “I listened to you before, even though I could tell you tried to cover your mouth.”

I am ashamed and aroused at the same time. My dick is growing hard in my pants, and she’s so close to me that I’m afraid if it gets any bigger she’ll be able to feel it.

“Oh, come now, it’s okay to tell Grete.”

“Okay,” I say, “but please stand back a little bit.”

She laughs quietly and moves a few inches away from me. Then she looks down at the obvious bulge in my pants.

“How old are you?” she asks

I tell her.

“Now tell me who you’re special girl is, and I’ll find something for you.”

I decide to answer. “Keliana,” I say, “do you have anything with Keliana?”

Grete’s face lights up. “An excellent choice, sir,” she says, as she quickly flips through the magazines on the rack and pulls out a copy of “Young Love No. 1.”

Keliana’s face is not on the cover, but I recognize her beautiful girl cock. I’d know that cock anywhere. It is the object of my complete and total devotion, my overwhelming desire. I feel the precum begin to leak from my hard cock in my pants.

“You like it?” asks Grete. “Don’t you wonder who the other cock belongs to?”

“Yes,” I reply, “and I guess I’ll find out when I read the magazine. May I pay now?”

“Of course,” says Grete. “Follow me.”

I follow, but she doesn’t go the front counter. Instead, she heads to the back of the store. “I want to show you something really special.”

She leads me through a curtain into a dimly lit room and tells me to sit on a chair. She comes right in front of me, quickly lifts her skirt, and pushes her panties to the side. A small cock springs out, glistening with what I imagine must be precum just like what I can now feel gushing from my own cock.

“Maybe that’s me with Keliana on that cover,” she says, and laughs really loud. “Do you like it?”

to be continued …
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Old 03-27-2010
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I have been asked in PMs whether this is a true story. Seriously.

It is a work of fiction and fantasy, and each installment comes to me as I write. There is no specific plan for where the story goes.
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Old 03-29-2010
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the story, continued ?

The effect of Grete?s question ? ?Do you like it?? ? is immediate. I stand up and begin to shoot stream after stream of cum into my pants. I grunt loudly. Grete places one soft hand over my mouth to muffle the sound, and puts her other on my cock, caressing it through my pants. This makes me cum more, creating a large, visible wet spot between my legs. As my orgasm subsides, Grete takes one hand from my mouth and replaces it with the one that has on it some of the cum that went through my pants. She spreads it on my lips and kisses me, thrusting her tongue into me while she again rubs my wet pants. I feel my cock begin to spurt again.

Finally, completely spent, I collapse into the chair Grete moves forward and lifts her skirt again to take out her small, smooth cock. It sticks straight out. She puts it right up against my mouth, and commands me. ?Kiss it!?

Grete works her cock right between my lips. I want it so much, but feel like I am betraying Keliana. ?Suck it!? As I do, Grete leans over and bites my ear gently and then sticks her tongue in my ear, which sends a chill through me and causes my own cock to leak again. I shudder.

Suddenly, Grete moves back and her cock comes out of my mouth. As if reading my mind, she says, ?I want your full attention. We will continue this later.?

* * *

It turns out that Grete has a small, studio-like apartment in the back of the hostel, in which she lives rent-free in exchange for her shifts at the front desk. She gives me explicit instructions to come to her door later that night, after she is finished working at the sex shop. ?Knock four times,? she tells me, ?and then come in.? She adds, ?You should rest until then. We will be very busy.?

I gather my copy of ?Young Love No. 1,? pay for it at the counter, and begin to leave.

?Do not look any more at that magazine tonight,? Grete warns me. ?You will need all your energy. Do clean yourself up before you come to my room.?

* * *

Later that night, I knock on Grete?s door and enter a small studio apartment, essentially a living room with a bed off to one side, a small kitchenette, and a bathroom. Grete stands there in black lingerie. She has small tits and a small bulge in her panties. Her hair cascades over her shoulders. The lights are dimmed, and there are candles lit.

?I am glad you are visiting,? she says. ?I so hoped that you would not be scared away.?

I notice just how pretty she is. Keliana is beautiful, exotic, and mysterious looking. Grete has a ?girl-next-door? look, quite attractive and, I realize, very sexy.

She comes puts her arms around my waste, pulling me close. ?You have never had a girlfriend,? she says, in a tone that is half question and half statement. ?You are a virgin, yes??

Before I can answer, she puts her sweet, full lips to mine and kisses me, quite romantically. Her entire body seems to melt into me, and I kiss back fervently. My cock hardens in my pants, I can feel Grete?s mouth turn to a smile. She grinds herself against my hard cock.

After what seems an eternity, Grete breaks away, takes my hand, sits me on her bed, unbuckles my belt, and begins to pull my pants down. Once they are off, she falls to her knees, takes my hard cock in her hand, and begins to stroke it up and down. Her hands are soft and warm. Precum oozes from the tip of my cock, which she uses to lubricate me. ?Please, control yourself,? she says. ?I have much to show you.?

I nod and try to stem the rising feeling of hot cum churning in my balls. She stops stroking and kisses the tip of my cock, covering her tongue with my precum, then rises and kisses me again. I taste myself in a completely different way. ?You like cum when it is shared,? she says.

Grete gets back on her knees and admonishes me again to control myself. Then she begins to suck on my cock, first taking about swallowing about half of it but then reaching up, grabbing my hand, and putting it on the back of her head. From her movements, I can tell she wants me to push her mouth down so that she has every inch of me in her, all the way to my balls. More precum oozes out, but I control the tremendous urge to cum. She does this for a few minutes, and then stops, crawls up on the bed, lies on her back, and says, ?Bring your cock to me, baby. I want you to fuck my mouth, just like a pussy.?

I do as told, fucking Grete?s mouth slowly, with long strokes. I can feel tingling inside of her mouth. She begins to massage my balls and I feel them tighten. She looks at me and nods her head, while my cock is still in her mouth. This is a signal, and suddenly I begin to spew cum into Grete?s mouth, never slowing down my fucking of her. Just before I feel as if there is no more left, Grete grabs my cock, pulls it outr, squeezes it tightly, and coaxes one last stream of hot jizz right onto her lips. She jumps up quickly, grabs my head, and sticks her tongue in my mouth. We kiss, and I swallow a bit of my own cum. She repeats, ?You like cum when it is shared.?

Grete tells me to strip completely, and we lie together on the bed, arm in arm. She puts one leg over me, and I feel wetness. Her little dick is leaking. ?It is fine. I always cum a little when I am sucking.?

We lie there for a while, silently, until Grete suddenly speaks. ?There is much more we can do,? she says. ?Would you like to?? I nod.

?I want you to suck me, not like at the sex shop, but as I sucked you.? She sits on me, straddling my face and placing her now-hard cock right in my mouth. ?Remember what I did for you, and do that for me.?

Soon, she is fucking my mouth. Her cock tastes delicious from the small bit of cum that already leaked from her. In only a few minutes, she fills my entire mouth and throat with a massive amount of warm, delicious cum, much different than what my own is like. Grete?s cum is sweet, with the consistency of honey warmed to flow more easily. I realize that I could get used to drinking this every day!

Grete gets off of me and again gives me a cum-sharing kiss. My cock becomes as hard as I can ever remember. Pulling off her lingerie, Grete presents herself to me completely naked. She pulls me to the edge of the bed, has me sit, and climbs onto my lap. I can feel my cock touching the smoothness of her thighs and her ass. She kisses me again, and spreads her legs wide to straddle me. Her cock is against my stomach, and I feel more precum oozing from my own cock.

Grete reaches behind herself and massages my hard cock, and, with the same hand, grabs one of my hands and pushes it down her back to her ass. ?Put your finger in me,? she whispers in my ear. This is new to me. I push my middle finger against her asshole. She groans and speaks. ?I want to give you my pussy.?

I press in deeper, and her tight back pussy gives way. ?Fuck me with your finger,? Grete says. I do, and then she tells me to taste it. I am pleasantly surprised by the taste of the nectar of flowers.

?Put it back in,? Grete insists. ?Make me ready for you.?

Her back pussy is so tight and wonderful, and as I fuck her with my finger, her cock jumps against my stomach. My own continues leaking.

?I want you inside of me,? Grete mumbles. She hoists herself up just a bit from my lap and sits right down on my hard cock. I feel some resistance, but quickly I am in her all the way to my balls. ?I used your natural lubricant,? she says. ?It?s the best way?

It is a wonderful feeling, as good as her cock in my mouth. ?Please, kiss my breasts,? she says. ?Suck on my nipples.?

Grete?s breasts are small and beautiful, with rock-hard pink nipples that quiver as my hot breath hits them, even before she feels the wetness of my mouth. Suddenly, a hot, clear stream drips out of Grete?s cock onto my stomach. ?I have more,? she whispers.

As Grete continues to bounce up and down on my cock, I feel it become harder and fatter inside of her. She is clearly enjoying this. She begins to shake her head from side to side, guttural sounds come from her, and I hear an occasional deep moan. Her back pussy feels as if it is on fire.

All of a sudden, I feel as if I am going to cum. Grete can feel it, too, so she slows down and says, ?Wait. Cum with me, when I kiss you.? She resumes her bouncing. I feel the tip of my cock hitting something hard inside of her. My balls are so tight, and I can barely keep from bursting. Thankfully, at this moment, Grete lets out a loud scream and then covers my mouth with hers. My cock begins to shoot cum deep into her as hers sprays my stomach. I feel one, then another, and then another big spurt from me into her back pussy. She keeps her mouth on mine, and our tongues dance together furiously as we both shoot our hot jizz.

After a minute or two, Grete leans back away, still impaled on my cock. I feel cum dripping onto my legs from her pussy. She climbs off, gets on her knees, and licks cum off my legs and stomach, and then takes my softening cock in her mouth. When I am clean, she kisses me and then says, ?Time for bed.? We snuggle close together and fall asleep.

* * *

Light streams through the window and I awake the next morning to see Grete, looking beautiful, scurrying about. She is dressed. ?Take your time. Come see me at the front desk before you gou out to explore Hamburg.? She runs over, kisses me quickly, and goes out her door.

I begin to rise. Grete rushes back in, opens a closet door, and grabs something. ?I nearly forgot,? she says. ?This is for you. I bet you have never seen this one.? She tosses ?Tight Ropes? across the room, with Keliana on the cover. Grete almost made me forget her.

?Do you see what it says?? Grete asks. ?Tied and bound. Perhaps you will like what you see, and we can play again tonight.? And then she is gone.

to be continued ...
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  #28  
Old 04-01-2010
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I've been reading all this with unbridled lust, feeling the pursuit and the heat building up. Can't wait for the next installment. Glad you like the magazines.

Keliana
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Old 04-01-2010
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youre just so erotic keliana! so so gorgeous!
kisssssssssssssss from ireland
jock your mate
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Old 04-02-2010
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the story, continued …

My plan had been to spend the entire day seeing all the sights of Hamburg and then ask Grete out for a proper date, since she told me that tonight she doesn’t have to work at the sex shop. But I get a late start. With her invitation to take my time, I decide to explore “Tight Ropes” instead, and quickly find the Keliana spread. I am mesmerized. The promise of the front cover, “tied and bound,” is fulfilled on every page. There is my Keliana, tied to a bed in various poses. In one picture, she is face down, with a butt plug in her beautiful ass and sexy stockings up to her thighs. In another, she lies on her back, completely naked but for powder-blue silk panties, seeming to beckon me to the bed with her smile. In the next picture, she has pushed the panties to the side and her delicious girl cock is pointing straight up. And in yet another, a close up of that picture, I see a small drop of her delicious cum on the tip of her cock. This makes me so hard that I must cum myself. With reckless abandon, I look for and find a pair of Grete’s silk panties, nearly the same color. I want Keliana so bad that I must recreate the scene. I use Grete’s panties, feeling the silk against my cock, rubbing and rubbing until I shoot my load into them. Not knowing what else to do, I stuff them in the pocket of my pants.

By now, I’ve devoted an hour of my day to Keliana instead of to sightseeing. I straighten Grete’s bed, sniffing the sheets and smelling sex, before putting on my clothes, going to my bed in the hostel, and putting her panties – soaked with my jizz – under the pillow. After a shower and a change of clothes, I head downstairs, where she is checking in a couple of teenage girls from another part of Germany. She smiles when she sees me. I wait for her to finish, and ask her about going out that night. She agrees.

* * *

It’s a beautiful day in Hamburg, and I wander the city. I especially like the waterfront. All day, though, I see things that remind me of Keliana. When I stop at a caf? in the mid-afternoon and close my eyes for a few moments, I first see Grete bouncing on my cock, but very quickly she is replaced by a vision of Keliana. I am obsessed.

Later, Grete and I enjoy a traditional German meal at a small restaurant in the city, and then we take a walk through the city for about an hour. She holds on to my arm as we walk, and it feels like she is my girlfriend. My heart and mind are racing. Obviously, Grete is the first girl with whom I have had sex. She’s pretty, and she’s nice. I really like her. But thoughts of Keliana, of Keliana’s smoldering sexuality, of Keliana in bed, of Keliana in a garden, of Keliana sitting on a wall, always overcome the pictures of Grete in my mind. How is it possible, I wonder, when I have only seen Keliana’s cock in a magazine but had Grete’s cock in my mouth?

We make our way back to the hostel and to Grete’s room. She asks me about “Tight Ropes.” I tell her how aroused it made me. She goes to the same closet and pulls out some long, silken cords. “Tie me to the bed,” she says, and gets up on all fours with her hands by the bedposts. I oblige, and when her hands are secured she instructs me to take off her skirt and panties. Her beautiful behind stares at me, and her blonde hair cascades down her back and over her silk blouse. I stare at her for a few moments, lusting after the delicious cock that is dangling in view.

“What do I do now?” I ask.

Grete giggles. “Pound me like a slut,” she says. “Fuck me like you want to break me in half.”

“But ...,” I begin to protest.

“It’s okay,” she says. “I want it, for me.”

I fuck Grete so hard that rather than feeling like she’ll break in half, I feel as if my cock is going to fall off. She fucks me back, moving her back pussy onto my cock with such ferocity that it’s hard to believe it’s the same girl from the night before. But when it’s time to cum in Grete, I imagine that I’m filling Keliana.

* * *

The next day, the Hamburg portion of my trip to Germany is over. Grete takes me out for breakfast before checking me out of the hostel. She even sees me to the train station, where I’m bound for Cologne, and then Munich, before making my way back to Frankfurt for a flight to Paris. I so want to visit Berlin, but my aunts and uncles who paid for the trip said no.

At the train station, Grete kisses me full on the lips, rubs my cock through my pants, and whispers in my ear. “I know you took my panties.”

I nod.

“Was I really your first?” she asks. “Tell me the truth.”

“Yes,” I reply.

“Well, I wish I would see you again, but I know you are on a quest.”

I tell her that I’m just going to Cologne and Munich for sightseeing, and nothing more.

“No, silly,” she says, laughing. “That is not what I mean.” As the train whistle blows, and the conductor shouts that all of us on the platform must board the train, Grete reaches into her bag and hands me a magazine. “I mean this quest,” she says. “You are looking for Keliana. I know it. I could feel it when you were inside of me last night.”

I hold “Baby Dolls” in my hands, with Keliana on the cover, the sun streaming through a window and lighting her up in a yellow dress. The cover describes it as “the magazine of sexy little creatures,” with “cute little nymphets who love to fondle and explore.” I am growing conspicuously aroused by the thought of fondling a little nymphet named Keliana, and of being fondled by her, and of mutual exploration. What hidden treasures are beneath that yellow dress? Damn! Again, I feel myself leaking.

My thoughts are cut short by the sound of Grete’s voice. She gives me a quick peck on the cheek and begins to run up the platform toward the station. “Don’t forget me!” she shouts.

How could I? Even if I find my Keliana, there will always be Grete, my first in the flesh. And now I know exactly what to do with Keliana, thanks to Grete.

to be continued ...
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Last edited by smc; 04-09-2010 at 01:22 PM. Reason: Corrected a spelling error.
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  #31  
Old 04-03-2010
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Great latest installment. Amazing how well you write and how it develops, there are even surprising turns to the events too..you ARE a good writer of erotica! I am turned on every time I read it!

Thanks again for making it all happen with my photos

Keliana
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Old 04-03-2010
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Originally Posted by keliana View Post
Great latest installment. Amazing how well you write and how it develops, there are even surprising turns to the events too..you ARE a good writer of erotica! I am turned on every time I read it!

Thanks again for making it all happen with my photos

Keliana
Thank you, darling. Even though I'm sharing this story on the forum, it's really all for you. And you know just what I need to keep it going. I promise another installment later today.
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Old 04-03-2010
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the story, continued …

The train ride to Cologne is a blur -- mostly the blur of my fist rubbing up and down on my cock in the rest room. I take my copy of “Baby Dolls” in with me as soon as the conductor collects my ticket, and despite the banging on the door from other passengers I stay in there for what seems like two hours. I have a new dildo that I bought in Hamburg -- did I mention that? -- with a suction cup beneath the balls, and it works perfectly on the toilet cover. Sitting with it deep in my ass, I flip through the pages of the magazine, finding the full spread in which Keliana is relieved of her yellow dress.

Indeed, as the series of photos shows, she is the epitome of a “cute little nymphet who loves to fondle and explore.” The spread is the story of Keliana as a babysitter, who arrives to watch some young children. She comes to the door in her yellow dress, in the late afternoon, and the mother and father greet her and give her instructions. Then they leave. Keliana plays with the children for a while, but soon it is dark and time for them to go to bed. Keliana tucks them in, and settles onto the couch in the living room.

We see the lovely Keliana on the couch, seemingly engrossed by a magazine she is reading. And then we notice that there is a young man, who looks to be about my age, peering through the window. Apparently, he is a neighbor. A closeup reveals that Keliana is looking at an adult magazine. The young man outside has a shocked look on his face, because he realizes first that Keliana is masturbating furiously to the pictures in the magazine. She fondles her breasts through her yellow dress. Then he sees that Keliana’s hand is wrapped around her cock, sticking straight out of her panties.

The young man knocks on the door, and Keliana scurries to hide herself. She opens the door, and the neighbor explains who he is and that he has come by to pick up a book that the father had left for him. Keliana remembers the father telling her that he might come by, and so she lets him in.

Pretty soon, the young neighbor is chatting up Keliana, all the while staring at the spot under her dress where her cock has remained hard and is bulging out. The text becomes quite explicit.

“What’s that you have there? A hard dick?” he asks Keliana. In the next photo, they are kissing, and Keliana is rubbing the bulge in his pants. A few photos later, they are completely naked, and the sucking and fucking begins.

I pump my own cock like a madman, and cum several times. I cum to the guy in the magazine sucking Keliana’s beautiful cock. I cum to Keliana taking his cock deep inside of her. I cum to the two of them spraying cum on each other.

Finally, I leave the rest room to make my way back to my seat. I guess I must have made some noise, because the passengers closest to the rest room give me knowing looks. A couple of them smile.

As we near Cologne, the conductor comes to my compartment and hands me a piece of paper. On it is a note, in halting English, written by a passenger who asked the conductor to deliver it to me. It is an address in Cologne, and these words: “I like make suck with you.” He smiles and leaves.

* *

In Cologne, I check into another hostel. There is no Grete at the front desk. I am exhausted and quite spent from my masturbation on the train, so after leaving my things I find a quiet caf? and have dinner. I go to sleep early. The next day, I see the sights of Cologne, and spend an especially long time at the beautiful cathedral. As the day winds down, I begin to think about the note from the train, and I ask someone to direct me to the address. He looks at me with some concern, but sends me on my way.

I come to a rather run-down part of the city, and find the address. It is a small bar, and I look very out of place. I sit down at one of the few empty tables, and decide to order a beer. A woman steps to my side and asks me in German what I would like. I ask her if she speaks English, and she asks me, in turn and in English, how I found this particular bar. I tell her that I was given the address on the train from Hamburg, although I don’t tell her about the rest of the note.

As she goes to get my beer, I look around, wondering if I’ll notice the person who had the conductor give me the note. When the waitress returns, she says, “When you finish your beer, go down the hall to the second door on the right.”

* * *

It’s amazing what a beer can do to loosen you up sometimes, but this one was particularly effective. As I take my last sip, I feel ready for anything. Throwing caution to the wind, I head down the hallway and open the door. As I do, a small red light comes on, just enough to see. There is a small stool and a screen. Suddenly, I hear the sound of a small movie projector, like the ones at school, and there is a grainy film flickering on the wall. In it, a man -- obviously a man, but dressed as a woman -- is sucking a cock that pokes through a hole in the wall. There is no sound other than the projector’s sound.

I find this very arousing. My cock hardens, and I begin to stroke it through my pants. Soon I hear a voice, and I trace it to a small hole in the wall. The voice says, “Your cock.” It doesn’t take me long to figure out that the voice wants my hard cock put in the hole, which I do -- without even thinking twice.

Suddenly, I feel a warm, wet mouth on my cock, and a few fingers grasping the shaft. This is so surprising, and so arousing, that it takes me nearly no time to shoot a large amount of hot cum, which I can tell is being swallowed by someone very hungry for it on the other side of the wall. I cum so hard that I collapse onto the stool.

A moment later, there is a knock at the door. I open it, and in walks a woman in a yellow dress much like Keliana’s in the magazine I jerked off to on the train. She is at least 6 inches taller than me, and oozes sexiness, with lipstick smeared on her face and what I assume to be my cum dampening the area all around her mouth. Emphatically, she says, “Me!” Then she lifts her dress and pulls out the largest cock I have ever seen. It makes Grete’s look like a clit on a girl.

The creature puts her hand on my head and pushes me down on my knees. I begin to lick her beautiful cock and then take it into my mouth to suck. I swirl my tongue around her glans as she moans and pushes her giant dick deeper and deeper down my throat. After a few minutes, she begins to cum. I get the first shot right into my mouth, but then she grabs her cock and begins to stroke it with abandon, which causes her to release stream after stream of steaming hot liquid all over my face and outstretched tongue.

When she finally stops spurting, she reaches down, puts a hand under one of my arms, pulls me up, and licks the cum right off my face. Then she pushes me down onto the stool, adjusts her dress, kisses me harshly on my mouth, and walks out of the small room.

After a few minutes, I feel composed enough to leave. I wipe my face on my sleeve, open the door, and walk back out into the bar. Every patron watches me, and then they spontaneously begin to clap and laugh. I run out to the street.

* *

As I make my way back to the hostel, the taste of cum in my mouth and my face sticky with the dried reminder of the face-fucking I have just taken, I find myself oddly aroused. I begin to think about Keliana, and I wonder whether a girl like her would ever want a guy like me after everything that has happened in Germany. Thinking about Keliana, though, gets me aroused again. Near the hostel, I find a sex shop like the one Grete works in back in Hamburg. I enter, and walk right up to the front counter. Even I can smell sex on myself, and I know he can. I tell him precisely what I’m looking for.

A short while later, I am back at the hostel, in a room with other guys who are trying to sleep as I, with the small light that shines through the window, work hard to image that the beautiful crack of Keliana’s smooth, delicious ass is really in the bed, right next to me, instead of just her picture on the cover of my newest acquisition, “Teachers Pet.”

to be continued ...
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  #34  
Old 04-04-2010
shamoni8 shamoni8 is offline
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damn homey... u got the girl to reply. good on ya
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  #35  
Old 04-04-2010
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damn homey... u got the girl to reply. good on ya
Thanks for the "shout out."

As the initial post states: I post this with her permission."

Last edited by smc; 04-04-2010 at 12:04 PM.
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Old 04-05-2010
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the story, continued ?

I sleep late the next morning. When I awake, the room in the hostel is empty except for me. ?Teacher?s Pet? lies open on my bed, a picture of Keliana -- with her exquisite cock sticking straight out into the camera -- there for all to see. I wonder who did see. Did every one of the guys sleeping in that room see the magazine before they left? What must they think of me?

As I get out of the bed, I feel my cock sticking to the boxer shorts I slept in. I know that feeling; it?s the remnants of a cum shot. I taste cum in my mouth, too, and my hand smells of cum. I realize that I must have jerked myself off in my sleep, dreaming of Keliana, and brought the hot load to my mouth. There?s a word for what I?ve become.

?Cumslut.? Yes, that?s the word. I hear it whispered as I leave the hostel after showering and dressing. There are two guys in the lobby, and they eye me as I come down the stairs and make my way to the door. Yes, the whisper ?cumslut,? but I think they said it loud enough to make sure I heard.

My day in Cologne is largely uneventful. I see some more sites and have a nice lunch late in the afternoon. But my mind wanders. I keep reliving the events of yesterday in my mind. As I walk around the city, every beautiful woman I see becomes an imaginary lover, pounding her cock into my face and giving me her sweet load. I imagine girl cocks spraying cum in my mouth and on my face. As I get harder and harder, and more and more thirsty for cum, my mind focuses on the cock of my dreams -- Keliana?s cock.

I have a ticket on the night train to Munich, my last stop in Germany before moving on to France. I return to the hostel to collect my things, making sure to tuck my growing collection of Keliana magazines into an easily accessible pocket in my traveling bag. I don?t know what the ?situation? will be on the train, but I know that I won?t last the night without some of my cum. I guess I really am a ?cumslut.?

* * *

When I arrive at the Cologne train station for the trip to Munich, there is announcement that the departure has been delayed for 1 hour due to mechanical problems. I decide to explore the area immediately surrounding the station, and leave my bags in a locker. Out on the street, my growing arousal seems to guide me directly to a sex shop. I make my way to the section with the special girls, and after some searching I find a new magazine to buy. ?Blue Weekend No. 23? features Keliana on the cover, with high heels, in the arms of a guy who is pulling up her little black dress to reveal her naked ass. They are kissing.

This picture makes me so hard that I can?t even wait to leave the shop to look inside, and so I tear open the wrapper and begin to flip through the pages to find the full spread. Suddenly, a clerk is next to me, yelling in German. I don?t understand his words, but I can tell he?s angry. He grabs the magazine from my hand.

A moment later, there is a beautiful woman by my side, with her hand on my shoulder, yelling at the clerk in German. I don?t know what she is saying, but she prevails. The clerk hands Keliana -- rather, the magazine -- back to me and says, in English, ?I am sorry.?

The woman who intervened whispers in my ear, in English. ?It?s okay,? she says. ?He is just doing his job. You are not supposed to open the magazines until you pay.?

?Thank you,? I reply.

She asks to see the magazine, and a knowing smile comes to her face. ?So,? she says, ?you like special girls.?

I blush. She takes my hand and quickly puts it on her crotch. I feel the outline of a massive cock. I become hard, instantly.

?I am a special girl,? she says, ?My name is Teodora.?

?Very nice to meet you,? I say.

We chat for a few moments in front of the magazine rack, and then Teodora excuses herself for a minute. ?Don?t go away,? she says. ?I?ll be right back.?

She walks to the front of the store and comes back with a handful of large, golden coins. Taking my arm, she directs me to the back of the store and begins to put the coins into a slot outside a door, which opens. She pushes me in and closes the door behind her.

?You like what you felt?? she says, putting my hand on her cock, which is now hard and even more massive.

Before I can answer, she kisses me full on the mouth, ramming her tongue between my lips and down my throat as she holds me tight with one hand on my back. She uses her other hand to reach down and unzip my pants, sticking her soft hand and squeezing my hard cock. Taking it out, she brings her fingers to my face and replaces her tongue with them in my mouth.

?Suck,? she says. ?Taste how much you want Teodora.?

Next, she pushes me to the floor and pulls up her skirt. She is wearing black lace panties that are nearly ripping from the size of her cock. I have never seen anything like it. It is at least three times larger than mine, thick and veiny. Precum glistens at the tip. She pushes my head down and puts it in my mouth. I can barely fit it in, and I gag. She is unrelenting, though, and soon it is so far down my throat that I feel as if it could touch my own cock from the inside.

Once she has her cock fully in me, Teodora begins to fuck me with it, pounding against the back of my throat, grunting and moaning. She holds the back of my head and bucks her hips as she pounds my face. It takes only a few minutes before I feel her cock get even bigger, and then begin to shoot a huge amount of warm cum into me. I feel my entire throat coated with her sweet, sticky juice, and I can feel it welling in my stomach.

Finished, Teodora pulls my mouth of her cock, which has stayed hard, and pulls me up. She gets on her knees, rips open the front of her dress to reveal her large tits, and jerks my cock three times until I spray all over her. Then she stands up and tells me to lick it off of her nipples. I am in absolute heaven.

As we come down from our mutual orgasms, I suddenly remember the train. Looking at my watch, I realize that I have less than 2 minutes to make it back to the station, if the train is leaving on time. Teodora tells me not to worry.

?We will ask the clerk to phone the station. Where is your train going??

I tell her, and we leave the room. I quickly zip up my pants, but Teodora heads right to the front desk, her massive cock, still erect, sticking out from her skirt and her cum-sprayed tits hanging out. She seems unconcerned by the shop patrons who stare at her. She confers with the clerk in German, he glares at me, a quick phone call is made, and she gives me the bad news.

?I am afraid the train has just left.?

I am visibly upset. ?What am I going to do??

Teodora smiles. ?There is no need to worry. I have a friend with a car, and she will do anything for me. We can drive to Munich and back overnight without any difficulty. Pay for your magazine, let?s go to the caf? and have a drink, and I will phone her.?

I had almost forgotten about ?Blue Weekend.? I rush back to the room to retrieve it, where I find the magazine lying on the floor next to a huge pool of cum that I suppose must be mine.

* *

First I retrieve my bags from the locker at the train station. Then, as I relax at the caf?, Teodora phones her friend. I watch her from the table, standing at the public phone across the room.

?My god,? I think to myself. ?I really am a cumslut.?

As I wait for Teodora, I pull out the magazine from my bag. One look at the cover and I almost forget Teodora. Instead, I begin to lust for Keliana's cum.

to be continued ...
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Old 04-05-2010
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I think this is now officially the length of a novella. Keep up the good work!
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Old 04-07-2010
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the story, continued ?

I feel as if Teodora has snapped me out of some kind of trance when I realize that she is back at the table and speaking to me. ?My friend Marlene agrees,? she says, ?and will be here in a short while to drive us to Munich.? But I?m fixated on Keliana.

?What is it?? Teodora asks. ?Are you not pleased?? I guess I?m being non-responsive, so Teodora hits me gently on the shoulder.

?What?? I say, in a voice not very friendly.

?Are you there?? she says, laughing.

I apologize and excuse myself, saying I need to get a bit of fresh air and that I?ll be right back. Teodora nods, and I walk outside.

The street is full of people, but I am lost in my thoughts and barely notice. I keep thinking about Keliana. Damn, she doesn?t even know me, I think, and yet I?m worrying about whether I have betrayed her with Grete and Teodora. How will I ever convince her that we are meant for each other? How will I even find her?

I walk back inside the caf? and sit down at the table with Teodora. She asks me why I?m brooding. ?Did you not have fun at the sex shop, darling??

I say yes, apologize, and tell her that I?m preoccupied. Teodora smiles.

* * *

We wait for about 45 minutes before Marlene shows up. She makes quite an entrance. She is shorter than me, very curvy and feminine looking, with red hair. I had assumed she would be like Teodora, but now I begin to doubt that assumption. She marches right up to the table and kisses me on both cheeks and begins to chatter away in German. I don?t have a clue what she is saying.

?Marlene speaks no English,? Teodora says. ?She is welcoming you to Cologne, thanking you for the chance to drive you to Munich, and telling you where her car is parked.?

?Thanking me?? I say. ?Why would she thank me? I should be thanking her.?

?Marlene,? says Teodora, ?is a ? how do you say it in English ? is a very giving person.?

With that, Teodora stands up, links arms with Teodora, and gestures to me to grab my bags. The two of them lead the way out of the caf?, down the street, and to a small BMW that looks as if it can barely fit two people, let alone three. Marlene opens the trunk and I put my bags in, and then Teodora announces that I should sit in the back.

I climb into the back of the car. Teodora, who is quite tall, works her way into the front passenger seat. Marlene hops in the driver side, starts up the car, rolls down the window, shouts something in German seemingly to no one, and pulls out of the parking space with a screech. Within a few minutes, we are on the autobahn and going about 200 kilometers per hour.

For the first hour or so on the highway, Marlene turns around every couple of minutes -- taking her eyes off the road -- and asks me a question in German. I can tell it?s a question because of the tone. Teodora translates. She asks me how old I am, what my home town is like, how I like Germany, whether I like Hamburg better than Cologne, why I am going to Munich, why I am not going to Berlin, where else I am going in Europe, whether I have a girlfriend, what school is like in America, why I haven?t learned to speak German ? I?m pretty sure I am leaving out some of her questions. I answer each one, Teodora translates, and Marlene giggles and shakes her head, no matter what I say. After a while, though, this becomes rather exhausting. It?s been a long day. I tell Teodora that I?m going to try to sleep a bit.

After another hour or so, during which I?ve been drifting in and out of sleep, I feel the car slowing down. We are pulling into a rest area. I wake up, perhaps halfway, and see Teodora and Marlene both get out of the car. Teodora goes around to the driver?s side and gets behind the wheel. Marlene pushes the front passenger seat forward and climbs in the back with me.

?Should I get in the front?? I ask Teodora.

?Oh, no,? she answers. ?Marlene wants to suck your cock.?

?Huh?!?

?It?s okay, yes?? Teodora says, half questioning and half telling me what the answer will be.

Before I can say another word, Marlene has yanked off her blouse, revealing two succulent tits, silky smooth with big nipples and big aureolas. She takes one of my hands and puts it on one of her tits. Then she unzips my pants and reaches in, quickly pulling out my cock. It?s soft. She giggles and kisses it. Then she takes it in her mouth, and I am hard in a few seconds.

While Marlene sucks my cock, Teodora keeps looking back and saying things to Marlene in German. One thing she says again and again is ?Gut gemacht!? I recognize that phrase: ?Good job!?

Marlene is an amazing cocksucker, maybe even better than Grete or Teodora. I announce that I?m about to cum, and Marlene suddenly sits straight up in the back seat and begins to speak to Teodora in German. She seems to be very worried about something. She also grabs my cock and squeezes it really hard. It feels like she?s trying to keep the cum from spewing out.

?What?s going on?? I ask Teodora.

?Don?t cum. She wants you to fuck her.?

Teodora says something to Marlene, who then -- with the skill of a contortionist in the tiny back seat of the BMW -- manages to strip herself completely naked and plant herself on my cock, which is dripping with precum and standing straight up. It is only as she does this that I realize I am in her ass, and that she has a cock as big as Teodora?s poking me in the stomach.

There we are, in the back of a BMW on the autobahn between Cologne and Munich. I am riding in the car, and Marlene is riding me. She rides me like a cowboy on a steer at the rodeo, whooping and hollering and pounding herself so far down on my cock that I feel like my balls are going to go right up her ass. But somehow, she keeps me from cumming.

As Marlene continues to ride me, we pass a couple of trucks. The drivers can see what?s going on in our car, and they pull their air horns and shout things out their windows in German. This only makes Marlene fuck me harder. I wonder if they can see her huge cock.

All of a sudden, Marlene kisses me, and then moves her mouth to my left ear, sticks her tongue in my ear, and says the first English word I?ve heard from her: ?Cum!? With that, I begin to spasm, and my cock shoots several streams of cum straight up into her with such ferocity that it feels as if she is being lifted off of me the way she might if she were riding a geyser at Yellowstone Park. She screams as I fill her with my hot jizz, and her cock sprays all over me. I continue to cum in her, more cum than I think I?ve ever had, more than the day I shot my cum all over the living room at home with the Keliana magazines all laid out. And Marlene scoops up her own cum off of me, puts it in her mouth, and kisses me again.

* * *

I don?t remember getting to Munich. All I know is that I was sucked and that I fucked this amazingly hot girl, who is now driving more slowly, with Teodora in the passenger seat. I am fully awake now, and it is dawn.

?Where in Munich shall we drop you?? Teodora asks, turning around from the front seat.

I give her the address, and she says something to Marlene, who pulls up to a gentleman sitting at a bus stop. She speaks to him, and he points. He?s clearly giving directions. We drive for another few minutes, and soon we are in front of the hostel.

Marlene and Teodora get out of the car, and I climb out behind them. Marlene opens the trunk and pulls out my bags. Suddenly Marlene speaks, anxiously, to Teodora, who translates. ?Wait,? she says, ?there is something Marlene wishes to give you.?

After rummaging around in her car, Marlene emerges and produces what Teodora tells me is a gift. Marlene hands me a rather worn copy of ?Cream,? with my beloved Keliana on the cover. How did she know? Again, I have nearly forgotten Keliana, but seeing her sitting there, legs spread and the bulge of her girl cock visible, makes me remember what this trip is all about. Sure, fucking with Grete, Teodora, and Marlene has been great, but in my heart it is all prelude to Keliana.

After hugs all around, Teodora and Marlene hop in the BMW and speed away. I climb the stairs to the hostel and go to the front desk. As I am walking across the lobby, clutching my new magazine, a small piece of paper falls out onto the floor. There is a note in German, and it is signed ?Marlene.? I ask the clerk to translate for me.

?See me any time you are in Cologne,? he reads. ?Your cock filled me so good.?

I am beet red as he checks me in for my brief stay in Munich.

to be continued ...
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Old 04-09-2010
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the story, continued ?

With my copy of ?Cream? in hand, and the embarrassing note from Marlene, I head up to my room at the hostel. It seems I?m always arriving in the morning when everyone else has left for the day, and it?s a good thing because I have only two things on my mind: sleep, preceded by a quick perusal of the Keliana spread in the magazine Marlene gave me.

I put my things away and settle down on the bed in the large room where, later, there will be many other guys sleeping. Right now, there is no one else around, so I shut the door, take out ?Cream,? and find the article featuring Keliana. The magazine is torn and tattered. The pages in the middle are loose, and the staples barely hold them in place. I wonder whether Marlene is as big an admirer of Keliana as am I. After all, she seems to have given this magazine quite a workout.

Finding several pages of Keliana pictures, I quickly decide to give myself a workout. To be precise, to give my cock a workout. It is already hard in anticipation, and the site of Keliana revealing her beautiful girl cock beneath the panties on the cover makes me begin to leak. ?Already?? I think to myself. This is going to be quick.

I decide to get on my knees on the bed and put the best 2-page spread of Keliana down in front of me so I can engage in some serious stroking. Using the precum that has now coated my cock, I jerk myself, making sure to squeeze tight as my hand passes over the ridge of my circumcised cock. In no time, the tingle grows to spasm, and the spasm becomes a cumshot. Just as the splooge is about to erupt from me, the door to the room opens, and a guy about my age steps in. The surprise causes me to shoot my hot jizz all over Keliana ? actually, her pictures.

I should be hiding, but I find I don?t care. The guy watches the last of my cum dribble out of the tip of my cock and fall on the magazine. He seems fixated on the magazine, and I wonder whether he can see Keliana from where he is, and at his angle. Soon, I get an answer. He walks over to the bed, where I am still on my knees with my softening cock in my cum-covered hand, looks right down at the magazine, and -- seeing beautiful Keliana, also with her cock in her hand -- begins to shake his head.

He speaks to me in halting English. ?She is what?? he asks.

?Her name is Keliana,? I reply, completely unfazed by the scene. ?She is a very special girl.?

?You are a schwanzlutscher?? he asks. I remember the word from the Frankfurt airport. A cocksucker.

?Yes, I am,? I say proudly.

He shakes his head and leaves.

My magazine is soaked with cum. I try licking it off the pages, which doesn?t work very well, so I decide to stick it under the bed, open, while I try to sleep.

* *

The nap lasts a few hours. When I awake, I check the magazine under the bed, which now has dried cum all over Keliana?s pictures. I think about whether the day might come when my cum will be on the real Keliana, and I grow a bit morose. After showering and changing clothes, I decide that I need some fresh air. The streets of Munich seem very inviting.

* * *

I love Munich, more so than Hamburg or Cologne. I wonder, as I walk through the Schwabing neighborhood, whether this is because I was so preoccupied with sex in those other cities that I failed to see them as tourist destinations. I decide that Munich will get my full attention as a beautiful German city.

Schwabing has caf?s and the original cabarets, and I am having a wonderful time. I stay out very late, enjoy a superb meal, and drink a lot of beer. I find young people who speak English everywhere, and talk about music and politics and all sorts of things ? but no mention of Keliana.

At the end of the evening, I resist the temptation to find a sex shop that might have something I can add to my growing collection of Keliana magazines. I head back to the hostel, determined to get a full night?s sleep. The guy who surprised me earlier is sitting in the lobby, and he simply waves as I walk in.

In my bed, I fall asleep quickly, and I am quickly dreaming. In my dream, I see Grete, Teodora, and Marlene, my three special German girls who have had their way with me. I relive all the sucking and fucking I have experienced. At the end of the dream, Teodora and Marlene drop me off at the hostel but come upstairs to my room. Teodora orders me to strip and get on the bed. Marlene is giving her what sound like orders, in German. Teodora?s cock is huge and hard as steel. She gets on the bed behind me and rubs it up and down in the crack of my ass, and as she does so it leaks precum. She takes her finger, lubes it with some of her precum, and begins to rub it around my hole. Then she positions her massive, pulsating cock right at the opening, and begins to push in.

Suddenly, Keliana is in the room. She moves quickly but silently to the side of the bed and puts her hand on Teodora?s shoulder, who looks up at her. Keliana shakes her head ?no? -- a clear signal to Teodora to stop.

I wake up at that point, wondering what it all means?

* * *

My next day in Munich involves more sightseeing, more drinking beer, and more fun meeting English-speaking Germans. After an early dinner, I go back to the hostel to gather my things before heading to the train station. I have a ticket for the overnight train to Paris, a trip of about 11 hours, and even a private sleeping berth. I decide that since I?m leaving Munich I can treat myself to a new magazine, having given the city my full attention.

I remember seeing a sex shop during my travels around the city, and it?s not far from the train station. I decide to go in before the train leaves, and I head right to the section with special girls. There is a new magazine on the rack, prominently displayed. I pick up what is the premier issue of ?Lady With a Dick,? which is wrapped in cellophane. It features my darling Keliana, looking so very desirable in high heels, with her legs spread, an orange top on through which I can see one nipple poking out (oh, how I long to have her nipples in my mouth!) Her delicious girl cock, the bulge visible, is hidden behind a pair of dainty panties visible beneath hiked-up jean skirt.

The train leaves soon. I hurry to the front counter to pay. The clerk speaks English. ?This is brand new,? he says, pointing to a small sticker that reads Bonus drinnen placed on the cellophane. ?There is a bonus inside.?

I pay and rush to the station just in time to get on the train. Settling into my sleeping birth, I tear open the cellophane. As I open the magazine, there is a second, nearly identical cover beneath the outer cover. On this one, the panties are gone, and Keliana?s beautiful girl is exposed and fully erect. My mouth waters. My ass tingles.

I can?t wait for the other passengers to fall asleep so I can have my way with my beloved Keliana.

to be continued ...
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  #40  
Old 04-09-2010
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Keliana is the reason while i joined this amazing site.
Can't get enough of her.
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Old 04-11-2010
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wow the photo of keliana kissing is one of the most erotic things ive ever seen!! those legs and spiked heels wow!!!
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Old 04-11-2010
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Sometimes I wonder how many of our members only look at pictures and never read.

More story to come soon, and thanks to all those who've told me they like it.
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Old 04-12-2010
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the story, continued …

The overnight train trip to Paris is largely a blur. I remember jerking off for several hours to Keliana's photo spread in "Lady With a Dick," and I think one of the conductors gave me a brief lesson in German and French when he knocked on the door to my sleeping berth, opened the door, put his finger to his mouth, and first said "Sei bitte still" and then "Taisez-vous, s'il vous plait." Apparently, I shouted "Keliana" rather loudly as stream after stream of hot cum erupted from my cock.

The weather in Paris is beautiful as I step out of the Gare du Nord, the train station conveniently located near the hostel at which I'll be staying. I have a small map that I use to find my way, and the 15-minute walk is wonderful. Paris looks exactly as I imagined it would. I check into the hostel and head out to explore the city.

In one afternoon, I manage to visit the Eiffel Tower and the Champs-?lys?es, and also enjoy an espresso at an outdoor caf?. The young waiter at the caf? speaks English and, since business is rather slow, strikes up a conversation with me. He asks me about my trip, about Germany, about America, about the college I'll be attending in the fall, about what I like so far about Paris … in fact, he seems to ask me about everything conceivable. When it comes time to pay, he tells me the espresso is his gift to me.

"Thanks," I say. "That’s very nice, and not at all necessary."

"Perhaps you could repay me," he says. "Let me show you Paris at night."

That sounds great to me: on my first night here, a tour of the city by a real Parisian. I quickly agree and tell him that I want to go back to my hostel and then meet him after his work shift ends.

“Where should we meet?” I ask.

“You should come to my apartment,” he says. And then, he leans over and whispers in my ear. “Perhaps you can repay me. Je veux te baiser.

I have no idea what he is saying, but I recognize the tone and what the hot breath in my ear means. “What?!”

“Do not act so surprised that I wish to have sex with you,” he says, rather more loudly than seems appropriate. “We have been discussing for some time now, and I have figured out what you like. I know your type.”

“I don’t think you know anything about me,” I reply, becoming angry, “and keep your voice down.”

The waiter stands there silently, staring at me. He seems to be sizing me up. His look is quizzical, as if he cannot believe that he miscalculated me. After what seems like a very long time, he asks, rather sheepishly, “You do not want to suck my cock?”

“No, I don’t,” I say, becoming rather embarrassed.

““You are not homo?” he asks, still not convinced.

“No, I am not!” I say this with emphasis.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

I begin to blurt out an answer, but stop myself. I don’t quite know what to say. How do you explain to a stranger your complete obsession with the most beautiful, sexiest girl in the world, when she doesn’t know you at all? How do you explain that everything you are doing on your trip is part of a quest to find the most desirable girl you have ever seen, who makes you feel things you never thought possible.

“So?” he asks. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

I am quiet for a moment, but then I decide that I want to tell him. In fact, I want to shout it from the top of the Eiffel Tower. My heart, my cock, my ass -- they are all for Keliana. I reach into my bag and pull out “Baby Dolls,” the magazine Grete gave me in Munich. I am carrying it with me because I love to look at the picture of Keliana from time to time, and compare her beauty with the beauty of what I am seeing in Paris. By the way, the city always comes in second.

I pull out “Baby Dolls” just enough for the waiter to see Keliana’s face on the cover. “It is my intention,” I say, as if making an announcement to the world, “to make her my girlfriend.”

The waiter’s jaw drops. “Keliana?!” He begins to chuckle. “I knew it. I knew you liked cock.”

* * *

That night, my new friend, the young waiter, takes me to Pigalle Place, the red-light district of Paris. He no longer hits on me; instead, he is taking me to a special shop devoted to special girls. “I don’t like girls,” he says, “But I have heard about this shop, and I think you will like it. They have the new kind of magazines.”

And, wow, he is correct. There are many of the older magazines I have seen at the bookstore back home, as well as in Hamburg, Cologne, and Munich, but there is one rack of magazines that are very different. They look so new, so fresh, so crisp. The colors jump off the covers. They are slightly larger.

The waiter explains to me that everything is better in France. My uncle told me that I would meet French people who would say such things.

My eyes soon fixate on a copy of a magazine I have never seen any other issues of, in any other store. “Chic” features a beautiful woman, face down on white sheets, with sheer panties on and the crack of her exquisite behind visible. I know immediately that it is Keliana; my instant erection works like a divining rod. The other words on the cover confirm what my cock has already told me: "See Keliana on her lazy Sunday morning."

I purchase the magazine, which is wrapped in cellophane, and am anxious to return to the hostel and be with Keliana, give her my cum. The waiter has other ideas, and I feel as if I owe him some of my time for bringing me to this special shop. So, he shows me some of the city, and then accompanies me back to the hostel. As we part, he asks me to stop by the caf? again tomorrow. I promise I will.

As he shakes my hand to leave, he leans in and whispers to me. "Are you sure you do not want to suck my cock?” he asks. "I am very, very large."

“But,” I say, “You are not Keliana.”

We part and I head to my bed with my new magazine. Yes, neither Grete, Teodora, or Marlene are Keliana, but I feel as if my experiences with those three special girls is part of my quest for Keliana, part of what I need to experience if I am to have any chance with Keliana.

* * *

The hostel is quite crowded. I must wait for everyone to fall asleep, at which time I go to the men's lavatory with my magazine, enter one of the stalls, and rip open the cellophane wrapper. The Keliana spread is one of the sexiest things I have ever seen. She looks absolutely beautiful. Her skin is so smooth. The slight curve at her waste makes me want to run my tongue over every inch of her, gently. The two other pictures in the sheer panties are almost more than I can take. I rub my cock furiously at the sight of her beautiful behind and, even more so, at the sight of her cock, just visible through the lingerie. I scream her name again as I cum, shooting my jizz all over the walls of the stall.

Lights come on in the outer hallway, and I hear footsteps. Clearly, I have awakened some of the other travelers.

to be continued ...
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Last edited by smc; 04-14-2010 at 02:38 PM.
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  #44  
Old 04-12-2010
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I used to subscribe to Chic a Larry Flynt Publication back in the 80's the US version of course not the French version.
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Old 04-13-2010
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omg, I don't know if I could read that all. I'd like to see a pro photoset of her.
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Old 04-13-2010
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Quote:
Originally Posted by linguslingus View Post
omg, I don't know if I could read that all. I'd like to see a pro photoset of her.
This is how Keliana herself has chosen to present these photos. Her work is as "pro" as "pro."
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Old 04-13-2010
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some of those mag cover mock-ups are great, particularly Baby Dolls and LWAD
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Old 04-14-2010
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The story, continued ...

In a second, the footsteps become a rumble. As the door to the men’s lavatory is thrown open, I furiously try to stuff my hard cock away. It is not an easy task. Keliana has me so aroused that I can barely fit my cock back into my pants, and the continual dripping is making it so lubricated that I am having a tough time getting a good enough grip. Before I can hide what Keliana has done, the door to the stall flings open. The man from the front desk glares at me. There are a dozen or so hostel guests behind him, all trying to get a look.

“What is going on in here?” the desk clerk asks, yelling at me in heavily accented English.

Just as I begin to compose an answer, I hear the loud voice of a woman shouting above the din of all the onlookers. She is speaking French. Whatever she’s saying, the entire room becomes quiet. Suddenly, there she is, pushing the desk clerk aside and staring in at me sitting on the closed toilet seat. It is a policewoman. She beings to ask me what I can tell are questions, from her tone, but I don’t understand a word she is saying.

One of the other guests, a young woman, steps forward. She says something quietly to the policewoman, and then turns to me and says, “She wants to know what happened that made you scream.”

“Who called the police?” I reply.

“I think you should answer her,” the young woman says.

The policewoman turns to the young woman and speaks. From the little French I understand, I assume that she’s asking for translation.

“You should answer,” the young woman says, again. The policewoman glares at me, with a stern look.

“I don’t know what to say.” I can’t think of any response.

The policewoman steps into the stall and grabs my arm to lift me from my sitting position. My cock, which has softened, dangles from the top of my pants, which I haven’t finished pulling up. She grabs my cock and stuffs it into my pants with one hand, and then gestures to me to close the zipper and buckle my belt. I do as I am told. Then she bends down and picks up the “Chic” magazine with Keliana on the cover. It’s open to the photo spread, and there is cum on one of the pages. In fact, I’m beginning to notice the cum I’ve sprayed everywhere.

She says something to the young woman, who turns to me and says, ““She was on her patrol, walking by the building, and heard you. She wants to know if this is why you screamed.”

I look right into the policewoman’s eyes. Beyond her stern look, I sense a tiny bit of a smile. I nod my head “yes.”

The policewoman again turns to the young woman, who then says to me, “You must go with her.” The policewoman then grabs my arm and pulls me out of the stall, through the crowd of guests, down the hall, down the stairs, and into the lobby of the hostel. She says something to the young woman, who shakes her head “no” and begins to go up the stairs. The policewoman shouts at her, and she stops dead in her tracks, then turns around and comes back down the stairs. They converse for a moment, the young woman runs up the stairs, and comes back dressed instead of in her pajamas. The three of us leave the hostel amidst a din or murmuring among the other guests.

Once out on the street, we walk for a few blocks and arrive at a police car. The young woman does all the speaking after being told what to say. “I have been commandeered to translate, I suppose until we get to the police station. She says to get in the front next to her.” I do. The young woman gets in the back.

“What’s your name,” I ask the young woman. As she answers, “Monique,” the policewoman turns to me and puts her finger over my lips.

“Shhhhhh,” she says.

We drive a short distance until I see the light of a police station ahead. But as we approach, the policewoman speeds up and goes right past. Monique begins to speak, hurriedly and with a tone of concern. I can tell she doesn’t like what the policewoman is saying back to her

“What’s going on?” I ask.

The policewoman says, “Shhhhhh.” And then she slaps my face lightly.

* *

After a bit more driving, we arrive at a small house. It seems to me as if we are no longer in the city. Perhaps it is a suburb. We pull into a small driveway, and the policewoman and Monique get out. The policewoman comes to my side of the car, opens the door, and grabs my arm, dragging me to the front door. She unlocks it, drags me in, and throws me down into an easy chair in front of a small coffee table. She says something to Monique, and heads down the hallway.

“She says that we had better stay still, if we are smart,” says Monique, who then sits down.

Waiting for whatever is going to come next, my eyes begin to wander around the small room. I guess it’s the living room. The table has some magazines on it, and I begin to look through the pile. Underneath two issues of “Paris Match,” I come across two more “Chic” magazines. On the cover of one, I see a shapely woman with long, dark hair from behind. She is walking onto the deck of a house or apartment, and there is a body of water in the background. On the cover of the other, what appears to be the same woman appears, with her succulent behind exposed under a red dress that has been lifted to the waist. Then I see the text on the cover of the second magazine: “Keliana in that Red Hot Dress.” They are both Keliana.

Monique is sitting quietly, clearly nervous. The policewoman is still somewhere down the hall. Fearful of what is coming next, I take a chance at escaping. As quickly as I can, I rush to the front door and open it. Just as I am about to run out into the darkness, my way is blocked by yet another policewoman. She grabs me and drags me back into the room, throwing me down into the chair. Then, in what seems to be a single motion, she pulls off her policewoman’s uniform. A massive cock sticks straight out into my face. It is even larger than Teodora’s.

She shouts something in French, and turns to Monique.

“She says to suck her,” says Monique, “or else.”

to be continued ...
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Last edited by smc; 04-14-2010 at 05:50 PM.
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Old 04-16-2010
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the story, continued ?

Before I can say a word of protest, the second policewoman rams her gigantic cock between my lips, into my mouth, and what feels like halfway down my throat. I gag and feel as if I will pass out. But before that happens, after only five deep thrusts of her massive tool, she begins to shoot cum into me. I feel it welling in my stomach. Then she grabs hold of her dick, pulls it out, and shoots more jizz all over my face. Then she grabs my arm, drags me over to Monique, and shouts something. I don?t know what she?s saying, but Monique begins to lick the cum from my face.

The second policewoman laughs and says, in rough English, ?Welcome to Paris.?

Then, the first policewoman reappears, dressed in a powder blue babydoll, her tits and cock visible through the sheer material. Her cock isn?t as big as her friend?s, but is fully erect and delicious looking. She wears her policewoman cap and holds a big dildo and some handcuffs. She says something in French, and Monique begins to undress me.

Meanwhile, the second policewoman makes a space on the table, takes the dildo, and -- using the suction cup I now notice near the balls -- attaches it firmly, sticking straight up. When I am fully naked, she grabs me and bends me over, rubbing her cock right against my ass and dripping some of the remnants of her enormous cumload right on my hole. Using her tongue, she then swirls around around a combination of cum and saliva and pushes into me. Satisfied that I am ready, she drags me to the table and, with one swift motion, pushes me down on the dildo, which goes deep into my ass so quickly that I yelp. She gently slaps my sticky face.

The dildo feels much deeper than the one I used at home, perhaps because I?m sitting on it. The first policewoman comes over and pulls my arms behind my back, handcuffing my wrists together. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Monique stealthily making her way to the door and running away. I am left alone with the two policewomen.

My hands now firmly shackled behind my back, the first policewoman stands on the table and dangles her cock in front of my face. Her friend kneels in front of the table and takes my cock in her surprisingly soft hand and strokes. I am nearly instantly rock hard. She then lowers her mouth onto my cock and, grabbing my waist, at the same time as she sucks me she lifts my entire body off part of the dildo in my ass. I can?t believe her strength. She?s literally lifting me up and down to fuck me with the dildo. I moan in absolute pleasure at being fucked and sucked simultaneously.

That seems to be signal. The first policewoman, her cock now as hard as mine, is positioned perfectly, and as her friend lifts me up and down on the dildo, my mouth hits the tip of her erection. She doesn?t have to tell me to open my mouth. This feels incredible, and I want more.

I feel like part of a perfectly constructed perpetual motion sex machine. One woman keeps her mouth on my cock, sucking me up and down as she lifts me off the dildo, which is fucking my ass better than it?s ever been fucked, and manages to use my mouth so that the other woman is face-fucking me. The rhythm is ideal, like the best music I?ve ever heard.

I hungrily suck, hardly even cognizant of the fact that I am a prisoner and, in essence, being raped. I don?t care. I take that cock with great enthusiasm. I look up at the first policewoman, and she is smiling at me. If my mouth wasn?t full of her cock, which now seems to be growing even larger, I would smile back.

The first policewoman rips off the top of her babydoll and begins to play with her tits. I want to suck them, but I?m busy. Meanwhile. my ass is being plundered by the dildo, and my dick is filling with cum. I wonder how long I can keep from spewing it into the second policewoman?s mouth. Almost as if on cue, she takes one hand from my waist -- miraculously managing to continue working my entire body up and down, with superhuman strength -- and tightly grasps the bottom of my shaft to keep me from cumming.

As the cock keeps growing in my mouth, I begin to feel the first policewoman?s balls bumping against my chin. They are so smooth and warm, and I really want to lick them. But these women definitely have a plan. Suddenly, the first policewoman moans deeply and begins to wave her left hand. It?s obviously a signal, because at the precise moment that the cock in my mouth begins to shoot a huge load directly down my throat, the second policewoman release her hand from the base of my shaft and I begin to shoot a huge load directly into her mouth. I look down and she looks up, as cum drips from her lips, which are still firmly around my hard dick. The first policewoman and I keep cumming and cumming, until I nearly pass out.

Both of us who have just cum are exhausted from our orgasms, but the second policewoman doesn?t care. The first policewoman climbs down from the table, rearranges her babydoll, and sits on the couch, stroking her softening cock beneath the sheer material. The second policewoman lifts me off the dildo, yanks it off the table -- it makes a funny sound as the suction releases -- and rams it straight into my mouth.

?Suck!? she yells. I taste my ass for a minute or so, and she pulls the dildo from my mouth and throws it in a corner of the room. ?Good!? she says, smiling broadly.

I notice that she is rock hard, just like when she forced me to suck her, and I am again overwhelmed by the size of her dick. The more I stare at it, the larger it becomes. I estimate that it is easily half-again as large as Teodora?s, previously the biggest I?d ever seen in real life or a magazine.

The second policewoman comes around behind me and undoes the handcuffs. She drags me to the chair and sits me down. She then goes to the couch and kisses her friend in the babydoll. Positioning her on all fours, she gets behind her and thrusts her humongous dick right into her ass in one motion. The first policewoman screams in utter ecstasy, and begins to moan loudly as she is fucked harder and harder. The second policewoman, just before she is lost to her own ecstasy, turns to me and says, again in barely understandable English, ?You are next.?

?No!? I think to myself. ?No! I am saving that for Keliana.?

The pounding continues, and within minutes the second policewoman is lost in her own utter ecstasy. Even though she occasionally turns my way, I notice that her eyes seem to have gone back in her head. I sense my chance. Grabbing my shirt and pants from the floor where Monique dumped them, I make my way to the door and leave. I am at the end of the short driveway when I remember I?ve forgotten two things.

Quietly, I make my way back into the house. The two policewoman are lost to their lust, one screaming and the other grunting like a wild animal. I grab the first thing: my shoes. I quickly scan the floor for the other thing: the two ?Chic? magazines I found earlier, with Keliana on the cover. They are in a pile from when the table was cleared for my ass-plundering. I grab them and head back out the door.

* *

I am very lucky. I wander around this suburb most of the rest of the night, but eventually find a Metro station and take the train back to Paris. I find my way back to the hostel and wonder whether I need to sneak in. Deciding to confront the situation head on, I go right to the front desk and tell the clerk that I was released by the police. It is not the same person as the night before, but he is familiar with the situation -- and he speaks perfect English. He admonishes me to have no more disturbances. I nod in assent, and head upstairs, wondering if Monique returned. I suspect she would high-tail it as far away from here as possible.

When I am halfway up the stairs, I hear him call my name. I stop, and he brings me a small package.

?This came for you earlier this morning,? he says.

I hold in my hand a small package, wrapped in brown paper and with a string tied around it. The sender is is a familiar name, but I can?t quite place it. The address is somewhere in London. I wonder how anyone other than my mother, sister, and aunts and uncles know when I will be where in Europe. When I get to the room, there are a few people just getting ready to leave. I wait for them, and collapse on the bed, exhausted by the thorough fucking I have just experienced. But I want to know what is in the package.

Ripping open the paper, I pull out a small envelope. The rest of whatever is in the package is wrapped again. In the envelope is a handwritten note that reads as follows:

?My young friend -- I have returned home for a visit and, by chance -- the only way -- seen someone special. I told her about you, and she hopes that you, too, will chance upon her. Remember my suggestions, and enjoy this gift from her.?

I unwrap the remainder, and find three brand-new magazines with Keliana on the cover. They are ?CUMM International,? a magazine I have never seen. She looks stunning in a bathing suit on two of them, and in a sexy, red dress on the other. As I open the first magazine, another note slips out onto the floor. As I bend to pick it up, I smell perfume. It reads:

?I am the cover girl for a new magazine. These have not yet arrived in Europe. You are the first to see them here, other than me. I hope you enjoy them as much as I hear you are enjoying my other photographs. Find me in London.?

The note is signed ?Your Keliana.?

I am in shock. I bring the note to my nose to take in the full fragrance of the perfume. Perhaps my mind is playing ticks on me, but I swear there is also a faint smell of sex. Or maybe that?s all over me.

Suddenly, I realize where I know the name from the outer wrapper. It?s the old gentleman from the adult bookstore, back home.

to be continued ...
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Old 04-20-2010
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the story, continued …

A note from Keliana! “Find me in London,” she wrote. The old gentleman from the bookstore back home is clearly on my side.

My mind is racing. I don’t know what to do next. Should I leave Paris immediately and head for London? Should I stay here in case some clues might arrive. As the thoughts course through my head, and the scent of Keliana’s perfume lingers, I find myself rushing downstairs to the hostel lobby, where there is a public telephone.

So far, my only communication with home has been through postcards, but now I get instructions from the desk clerk, purchase the necessary phone card, and make my call. The phone at home rings five times before my mother answers. “How’s this?!” she shouts.

I realize it is just before dawn at home. “Sorry, Mom,” I say. “I forgot how early it is back there.”

I hear her take a deep breath. Then she says, more calmly, “I thought you would only call in an emergency. Is everything okay? Are you in Paris now?”

“Yes,” I reply. “I was just surprised today to receive a package here in Paris, and I was wondering how it happened.”

“A package? From whom?” Before I can answer, I hear my sister’s voice in the background, demanding the phone.

“You got a package?” It’s my sister. I tell her it came from someone I know from town.

“He came by the house when Mom wasn’t home,” she explains. “I recognized him from the time I went to that adult bookstore to buy you your going-away present. He was working that day, but wasn’t the one who helped me. But he seemed to know all about your trip, and said he was going home to England and wondered if I knew when you would be there. I said I had your itinerary and gave him the information so he could contact you.”

“Did he say anything else?” I ask.

“No, little bro. Why?” she replies.

“I’m just trying to figure out what it all means,” I say.

“Don’t be so fucking mysterious,” says my sister. I hear my mother’s voice in the background, telling her to watch her language.

“Mom’s listening?” I ask.

“Don’t worry, bro,” she says. “She’s back in her room. I said that really loud, I guess.”

“Good. So, did he say anything else?”

“Nope.” There’s a long pause, and then my sister asks, “It’s about that cock-girl, isn’t it?”

“She’s a real girl,” I say, somewhat petulantly. “As much a girl as you.”

“Whatever you say, bro. Listen, did you like my little gift?”

I tell her yes and that I have a great story to tell her when I get home. I ask her if Mom wants to talk to me before I go, and she tells me my mother is already back asleep.

“I hope you find her,” says my sister. “You’re a little perv, but you’re my brother, so I want you to be happy.”

And she hangs up.

* *

I decide that I must get to London, right away. My flight isn’t until late tomorrow, but I head out of the hostel, with directions from the desk clerk to the nearest Air France office. I will change my ticket.

The agent at the office speaks the best English I’ve heard in Paris. Unfortunately, his facility with my language only helps explain as clearly as possible that my ticket cannot be changed without paying a very large fee, far in excess of what I have to spend. Disgruntled, I head out, quite exhausted from marathon fucking and sucking of the night before, and roam the streets of Paris. I find something to eat, and drink a couple of espressos to elevate my energy level. In mid-afternoon, I stop at a magazine kiosk outside one of the Metro stations, where they have newspapers in English.

As I flip through the International Herald Tribune, I notice two kids at the other end of the rack of magazines. They appear to be about 12 or 13 years old. They have a magazine in their hands, and are whispering in French and chuckling as they turn the pages. Suddenly, the surly man running the kiosk comes out from behind his small counter, and grabs the magazine from their hands. Holding it up, he shouts something in French that sounds angry and profane at the same time.

The boys run off. An older man, reading Le Monde, says to me in English, “Funny. He wonders why that magazine was delivered to him.” I guess he speaks English to me because of the newspaper I’m reading.

Just as I get ready to continue my walk around the city, I see the kiosk proprietor throw the magazine down on his counter, shaking his head. My eyes light up.

“Is that for sale?” I ask.

He looks at me and grunts. “Huh?”

I do remember one thing in French. “C’est combien?” I ask. “How much does it cost?”

He hands me the magazine and gestures for me to leave.

“C’est combien?” I ask again.

The older man says, “He’s telling you to take it and go.”

I do, and return to the hostel as quickly as possible. If I can’t go to London immediately, I can at least have some quiet time with my beloved Keliana late this afternoon, while the hostel is mostly abandoned by the other guests.

You see, the magazine kiosk somehow received an issue of “CUMM International” other than those sent to me by the man from the bookstore back home. I thought they were brand new, but here it is, now mine. This one features Keliana -- the beautiful, the sexy, the delicious Keliana -- with white panties and her beautiful girl cock bulging. Mine is now bulging, too. The cover text is about Keliana as a secretary, and I suddenly imagine myself as her boss, calling her in to my office for whatever my heart desires.

“How did I ever happen upon this magazine?” I wonder, as I find my way back to the bathroom where last night’s adventure began, close the door of the stall, open the magazine, and begin to pleasure myself to the pictures inside of Keliana.

It doesn’t take long before I cum, but this time I muffle my scream. I clean up and head back to my room, nearly colliding with Monique in the hallway.

“Come with me,” she says, grabbing my hand.

to be continued ...
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