Spoils of War

It's amazing how good stale bread, rancid cheese and bitter ersatz coffee can taste when you're desperate. After ten minutes I slumped back against the wall below the window, still bemused at the situation. I looked at Rainer. He smiled at me, almost shyly. I asked him, in disbelief, "Why are you doing this? Why are you still here?"

He cast his eyes down, and shrugged. "I feel that we've connected, Clayton." So he'd gone through my things as well, found my name. I noticed he'd removed the equipment from the bed we now both occupied. His eyes returned to my face. "I couldn't just leave you here like that, asleep and vulnerable. Besides, I'm scared too, I feel that I need some warmth. I offered you a deal -- remember?" I stared into the fire, my hands clasped between my legs. At that moment I felt terrified, more so than at any time in the two years-plus I'd been in the European theatre of war. I wasn't what he was, I was bigger than him, stronger. I could have broken him with one hand. But as he edged closer to me, and began to stroke my hair again, I shuddered with emotion. Electricity sparked from his fingers and raced through my body. I couldn't believe what I was about to do -- yet I was powerless to stop myself.

I felt his arm sake across my shoulders, pulling me towards him. His mouth was very close to my ear: I could feel his warm breath on my skin. He whispered, "Kiss me." I turned my head towards him, to say something, I don't know what. Before I could speak, his lips were on mine, his hand at the back of my head, pushing me onto him. He had no beard whatsoever, and his kiss felt as soft as that of any girl I'd ever known. I felt his tongue flicker against my lips, pass along them, press between them. I wanted to pull away, but...God forgive me, I parted my lips and allowed his tongue to enter my mouth.

Both his arms wrapped around me as his tongue raked my mouth, and stroked along the length of my own tongue. I could taste the acrid tobacco he'd been smoking. Shamefully, I closed my eyes and gave myself fully to the kiss, my arms slowly encircling him too. It was the first intimate contact I'd had with any other human being since I'd kissed Katie goodbye so long ago, and my cock was painfully erect in my pants. Even though he was lighter than me, Rainer used his weight to press me down onto the bed, until he was lying full length on top of me. I knew then, beyond any shadow of doubt, that I was going to betray my wife, my faith, and everything I believed in: I was going to fuck this beautiful young German boy.

One of Rainer's hands slipped down my body, to my fly. He increased the pressure of his kissing as, fumblingly, his fingers unbuttoned me, one by one. I groaned involuntarily as his hand wrapped around my throbbing cock. Without breaking the kiss, he muttered, "Mmm, it's big." Then he dipped down the bed. A moment later I groaned again as I felt his lips close over me. Only one girl had ever done that to me -- not my sweet Katie -- and she'd had none of the skill of this man. His tongue swirled around and around my dick, from the tip to the stem, while his lips massaged my length. He released it from his mouth for a moment, and licked and sucked my balls as he slowly pumped my cock with his hand. I heard him murmur, "What a beautiful, big uncut prick you have." Then his mouth descended on it again, his lips stroking up and down me, one hand squeezing my balls in time to his lips, the other continuing to pump the root of my dick. I curled my hands in his blond hair, pulling him onto me more firmly. I held off for as long as I could; but finally, my eyes squeezed tightly shut, tears rolling down my face, bucking and gasping, I erupted my jizz deep into his mouth.

I found myself sobbing with emotional release. Rainer continued to suck at my cock for a while, and his hand found its way between the buttons of my shirt, massaging my belly as my tremors subsided. Then he rose back up the bed and kissed me on the cheek, hugging me to him, whispering, "It's okay Clayton, you're fine, you really needed that." He stroked my hair and gently rocked me, like a mother comforting her child after a nightmare. Then he kissed me on the lips again, and I actually sucked his tongue into my mouth. I could taste a salty residue on it, which I knew was the taste of my release.

I momentarily felt a letdown in the aftermath of my orgasm. My cock was still semi-erect, but, having gone so far I had determined I was actually going to screw Rainer. In the state I was in, wracked with emotion and physically and mentally exhausted, I wasn't sure I'd be able to get hard enough again. My German lover wasn't finished with me though. Still kissing me, he reached down and unbuckled my pants. Then he disengaged from me and moved down the bed, pulling them and my shorts down to my ankles. Jesus, I lifted my ass to help him. When he lay on top of me again, I realized that he had removed his pants altogether. His cool, slim thighs rested on mine; and a long, thin cock brushed my own. I glanced down his body, and in the low light provided by the moon and the fire, I saw the two pale half-moons of his shapely buttocks.

As we continued to kiss, stroking each other's hair, hugging each other close, Rainer began to twitch his hips from side to side, rubbing our cocks together. I could feel that we were both rapidly stiffening. Surrendering myself totally to the situation, I reached my arms down and grabbed one of Rainer's ass cheeks in each hand, pushing him more firmly against me. He gasped into my mouth, and murmured, "Oh ja, liebchen". He reached his hand down, and stroked his fingertips up my dick, causing me to gasp. Then he gave me a small smile and whispered, "I think it's time Clayton."

He slipped off me and knelt on the floor, his arms across the bed, his ass sticking out. With a smile and a flick of his head, he indicated I should move behind him. My mind reeling, I did so, and gazed at his slim, taut buttocks, very pale with a red sheen from the firelight, smooth and hairless. It could just as easily have been the ass of a girl. I felt hampered by my pants, and quickly untied my boots and kicked them off, leaving us both naked from the waist down, other than socks. Then I shuffled between his open legs, my knees cold on the stone floor, my thighs warm from their contact with Rainer's. I gripped his hips, and he reached a hand round and took my shaft, guiding it between his cheeks. Then I twitched my hips forward and began to push into him.

He groaned with pleasure as I sank into him to the hilt, my balls pressed to his cheeks, my thighs hard against him. My fingers bit into the flesh of his hips as I began to fuck him with a slow, steady rhythm, grunting with each hard, deep thrust I made. His ass was quite tight, and very warm, cocooning my straining dick. As I screwed him he muttered, over and over, "Oh ja Clayton, gut, fuck me." One of his hands had slipped from the bed, and I saw he was stroking his own balls. Not even thinking about what I was doing, I reached around him and grabbed his cock in my hand, stroking it steadily and firmly. With my other hand I pulled him hard to me, both the speed and power of my thrusts increasing as I came closer to climax. My grunts began to sound more like sobs as I made my last few strokes then, with a roar of frustration uncorked, I slammed into him for a last time and filled his ass with my juice. Moments later I felt a warm, sticky fluid flood over the fingers of my hand which had been pumping his dick. He sighed and I slumped forward on top of him, my hand still around his warm cock. My other hand rested on his on the bed, our fingers intertwined. I closed my eyes, actually feeling pleasure in the sensation of the smooth, soft skin of his buttocks resting against me.

It was light when I woke. We were lying on the bed, covered by a thin gray military blanket which must have come from Rainer's pack. My lower half was still naked. Rainer was lying behind me, pressed to my back. One of his hands was inside my shirt, his fingers curled in my chest hair. His other hand was similarly entangled, but in my pubic bush. His cock rested between my ass cheeks. My ass felt stretched and damp, and I realized he must have fucked me during the night. I couldn't remember whether I'd been awake and co-operated. I reached a hand back and brushed his hip. He twitched, then leaned up on one elbow, smiled and whispered, "Good morning Clayton." I rolled onto my back on the narrow bed and, way beyond shame or embarrassment, allowed him to kiss me deeply, my arms pulling him tight to me. Then he said, "Okay, so now we get you back to your unit safely."

The next two hours was possibly the tensest time of my entire life. Rainer led the way through old, dead forest, each of us stepping carefully, pausing each time a twig snapped under our feet, our breath freezing in our lungs. Finally, we reached a drop down from the forest onto a road. I thought we would have to double back, then we heard the rumble of a tank around the bend fifty yards up the road. We fell to our bellies on the soft grass, watching nervously. The vehicle rounded the corner, a number of infantrymen walking edgily beside it. I allowed myself a huge sigh of relief -- they were US Army Rangers, and a slightly tattered Stars and Stripes hung limply from the turret of the vehicle. I turned to Rainer, and told him, "It's not too late for you to come with me. You'll be treated humanely in a PoW camp, and you'll be out of the war, away from dodging bullets."

He smiled and shook his head. "Thank you, but I think I'll take my chances with freedom for now. Goodbye, my Clayton. I will not forget you." Then he reached an arm around my shoulders, pulled me to him, and we kissed deeply, our tongues intertwining. We reluctantly pulled apart, and I glanced again at the approaching troops. When I turned back, Rainer was gone.

In 1947 I received a letter at home one day, with a German stamp. I tore it open, assuming it would be from one of my buddies posted to Berlin. When I saw the letter inside I froze, then my hand began to shake. I read it slowly.

"Dearest Clayton, well, I survived the Austrian's madness, and here I am making a name for myself. I truly hope that you also survived, and are now reading my words. There are lots of pretty GIs here in Berlin, so I am making plenty of new friends!

But Clayton, I am now serious. I said I would not forget you, and that was true. My happiest memory of the recent conflict -- if happiness out of such an event is possible -- is the night we spent together, in each other's arms. If you ever are in Berlin, please look me up. I would love to show you my city, and relive our brief time together.

Take care, liebchen, and have a happy life.

Auf wiedersehen,

Your Rainer. X"

I didn't reply, and never visited Germany, but I did see him once more. It was in the 1960s, on a local cable channel, late at night -- Katie had gone to bed hours earlier. It was a British talk show, presented by David Frost. The Brits had legalised homosexuality a month or so earlier, and 'infamous Berlin cabaret artiste Rainer Hausmann' was one of the guests. He came on dressed in a frilly pink outfit, his blond hair as long as a woman's, his face caked in make-up, long earrings dangling from his lobes. He was still slim, and I could see through the grease on his face that he still looked youthful -- that he was still beautiful.

I never had another intimate relationship with a man, and never felt any desire for one. Katie and I were happy every day of our married lives together. In the weeks after cancer took her I dreamt about her a lot, my beautiful young Katie. Recently, though, the dreams have changed. I still find myself kissing and caressing, my arousal evident as I prepare to make love. But as my lover's face withdraws from mine, it's not Katie I see anymore: it's a beautiful blond German boy, who whispers, "Kiss me. Fuck me."