Black Forest Bikers Camp

Hansl looked at man who had been his first as they walked. Yes, he had certainly been aroused by Siegmund too.

* * * *

After the two studs who had engaged in bondage sex on the first floor of the dormitory below where Hansl was in the loft had finished and departed, he came down, just in shorts and sneakers, bringing his camera bag with him, deciding he'd take some shots down at the lake. After visiting the head, he headed through the woods in that direction.

He stopped up the slope from the lake's edge, inside the fringe of trees, seeing that he wouldn't be alone if he went down to the lake. One of the biker campers was there, tricked out as a Tom of Finland character and casting a fishing line into the water. He had a magnificent body, as all of the campers here seemed to have--and emerged straight out of a Tom of Finland drawing.

He was tall, bulked up in the chest, his torso tapering down to a narrow waist. The man was all hard muscle. He had a black-leather harness on his chest, black-leather bikini briefs buttoning closed on both sides, tight black-leather boots rising to just below his knees, black-leather wristbands, and a black captain's hat. His hair was in a crew cut, of indeterminate color, but his mustache and close-cropped beard indicated he was a reddish blond, as did the swirl of chest hair circling his bulging pecs and running in a trail down his torso and under the bikini waistband. He was standing straight and tall, concentrating on working his fishing rod, casting the line out in the water, letting it drag, reeling it back in, and casting again. He seemed more interested in establishing a good arc of the cast and sending the lure far out into the water than he was in catching any fish. It was almost as if he was there to catch a man rather than a fish--and maybe he was. The almost dancing movement of the man's beautiful body was a delight to follow with the yes.

Hansl watched for a while and, eventually, fished the Canon 2000D out of his camera bag and started clicking. The Tom wasn't alone long and the view got more interesting. Another figure--another, differently costumed Tom of Finland, Tom Two, Hansl thought of him, came down a path off to Hansl's right, causing the young man to shrink back behind a tree, and walked out onto the lake embankment to Tom One.

This one, Tom Two, was tricked out as a cop. He was bald, wore aviator sunglasses, and was wearing a blue cop-uniform shirt and navy-blue pants with black-leather high-top boots. He wasn't just any cop in appearance, though. Like the Tom of Finland drawings, the clothes looked like they had been spray painted on his body, revealing every deep curve of his extraordinarily muscular body and the line of his gigantic cock in the crotch of his pants.

The first Tom emerged from behind his tree and the two men talked for a few minutes, but then they embraced, the cop unbuttoned and released the fisherman's bikini briefs, and then, bent him over, released his own cock, mounted him, and fucked him. There was no preliminary preparation; they went right to it, moving slowly as if in an orchestrated film. It was like they knew someone was there, filming them.

Click went the shutter of Hansl's Canon 2000D. He crept closer to get better shots, coming right up to the edge of the tree line to get unobstructed camera coverage. Of course, though, the two Toms now saw him. The cop pulled out of the fisherman and, his cock still proudly projecting from his open fly, turned and walked back up the pathway he'd come down.

Tom One stood there, looking at Hansl, his own magnificent cock in hand. Hansl slipped the Canon back into the bag.

"You're a cute guy," he called out to Hansl. "Something different for this camp. Did you enjoy what you saw?"

"You didn't finish," Hansl said. The disappointment was clear in his voice.

The fisherman laughed. "We saw you. We became interested in something other than each other. We didn't know they offered young men at this camp."

"A friend of mine owns the camp," Hansl said. "You said 'we.'"

"Yes, I did," Tom One said. He looked beyond Hansl, causing the young man to look around. He saw that the cop, his erection still out of his pants and cupped in his hand, had come around behind him. The two men had Hansl between them now. Escape, even if he contemplated it, would have been difficult.

"How old are you?" Tom One asked.

"Twenty," Hansl answered.

"Sweet," Tom Two said from behind him. That caused Hansl to look around at him again, and when he looked back, Tom One was standing right there in front of him.

"Weißt du, wofür wir in dieses Camp kommen?--You know what we come to this camp to get? You ever been fucked by a real man?" Tom One asked. He reached out and took one of Hansl's nipples between two fingers and rolled what was now a puffed-up nub. Hansl grimaced but held steady. He took Hansl's hand and moved it down to his crotch, handing his thick erection. Hansl didn't take his hand away.

"Yes," he answered.

"Well, it's going to happen again," Tom One said, reaching down and unbuttoning and unzipping Hansl's shorts and pushing them down to the ground.

"Well, shit. Look at what we have here. A pussy boy. You ever fucked a pussy boy?" He addressed this to Tom Two.

"Not until a few minutes from now," Tom Two said.

"Take a look," Tom One said, turning Hansl and pulling him in close to his body, but palming the small of Hansl's back and jutting the young man's pelvis out toward Tom Two.

"Well, would you look at that," Tom Two said. "A man with a pussy."

Hansl might have said something, but Tom One already was encircling his waist with one arm, lifting up, and setting Hansl's ass channel on his erection. Hansl cried out in surprise and squirmed as his channel took the cock, but he settled down to moaning low and groaning, as, cock now buried, Tom One held him close into his muscular body and fucked him in the ass. Tom One pulled Hansl's thighs up and around his, jutting the young man's pelvis forward. Tom Two stepped forward and fingered Hansl's fully exposed cunt, working the folds and clit with his fingers and penetrating. Hansl moaned in response.

Stepping back, Tom Two dug into Hansl's bag and came up with a camera. He started filming the fuck. After a few minutes, though, he moved into Hansl's body again, bringing the camera with him and filming the movement of the root of Tom One's cock as it shortened and lengthened in Hansl's asshole with his thrusts. Then Tom Two, maintaining a hold on the camera, was also grasping Hansl's ankles and raising and spreading the young man's legs. He nuzzled in between the young man's thighs, and, after experimenting with playing in the folds of the T-girl's snatch folds with the mushroom cap of his cock, took the plunge. Hansl cried out and was writhing, but he took the two men, sandwiching him between them, as Tom One fucked him in the ass and Tom Two fucked him in the cunt.

When they were done with him, Tom Two stepped away, laughed, pulled the SD card out of the camera, and, keeping it, walked off into the trees. Turning Hansl to facing him, and holding the moaning young man up with an arm under the small of his back, Tom One satisfied his own curiosity about the T-girl's snatch, penetrating with his sustained erection and fucking Hansl in his cunt. Hansl lay, bent back, in the muscle stud's arms, and savored the fuck.

When he was done, Tom One let Hansl sink to the ground, picked his leather bikini briefs up from the ground, buttoned the loincloth back into place, and strutted up the path into the trees, behind Tom Two, who had walked off with the camera's SD card.

He hadn't run off with everything Hansl had shot with the camera, though, as Tom Two had pulled the Panasonic Lumix camera out of the bag rather than the Canon 2000D with which Hansl had filmed Gerhardt, the guys in the dormitory, and these two Toms. Hansl still had his memories and evidence of new sexual experiences over the last twenty-four hours.

* * * *

Hansl walked gingerly back to the camp, smiling and purring to himself. That double fuck had been something else. He'd had no idea how much he would enjoy that. He wondered if any of the other role-playing bikers in the camp might do that with him.

Apparently so. When he got back to the camp office to check in with Siegmund, the man met him at the door. He was in full Tom of Finland form, chest harness, captain's hat, leather armbands, black hip-high boots, and a raging erection. He was glowering at Hansl and flicking a hand whip against his leg.

"There you are. We wondered where you'd gotten to," he said.

We? Hansl wondered. And then Siegmund moved in from the door, and Hansl saw into the room, where Gerhardt, his mother's current boyfriend, also tricked out in Tom of Finland gear, shaft swinging free, was setting up the restraints on an X-frame.

"Gerhardt came to find you. I phoned him that you were here. You didn't go to the camp where you told your mother you were going. Gerhardt guessed you came here instead. He guessed correctly. We've discussed what sort of punishment you deserved and we've come up with something."

Hansl stepped back, but Siegmund pulled him into the room with a grip on his wrist, slammed the door behind them, and reached down and unbuttoned and unzipped Hansl's shorts, sending them down to the floor.

Hansl began to pant and hyperventilate as he was pulled toward the X-frame. Siegmund was already fingering his cunt, spreading his labia and penetrating him with a finger. Maybe they were rushing him a bit, but he was quite willing to go with them.