The Story of Rolf and Erik Pt. 03

(Although it features hardcore scenes, this novella is meant to be a plot-driven character study, exploring the dynamics in male intergenerational sex.)

*****

CHAPTER 7

Since their session at the sex club, Erik hadn't reached out to Kurt. For over a year now, it was mostly Erik who came back to him spontaneously. Kurt had enjoyed to see each of his new demands satisfied, however extravagant they could be. The boy seemed to be hooked on his sexual power. Although Kurt had quite a few trophies in his collection, Erik was the jewel he was most proud of. He was the perfect combination : at the same time beautiful, bright and sexually submissive. Since the lectures had resumed after New Year, Erik attended his classes just like any other student, concentrated on typing notes on his laptop. But he knew Kurt well enough to tell his impatience was growing. As he was leaving the room that Tuesday morning, Kurt had been waiting like a prey bird and intercepted him just in time.

- I'd like to have a word with you, Erik.

- Sure. What is it about?

- Has everything been alright for you lately?

- Thanks, better than ever actually.

Kurt's wicked green eyes blinked shortly, but he immediately put on an oily smile.

- Excellent! Are you in love maybe?

- I never fall in love. But since you really want to know, I met this guy.

It sounded obvious to Kurt that this meant bad news. But he reacted by feigning interest.

- Tell me, how old is he? Do I know him?

- Two years older than you, and I really doubt you ever met.

- Fascinating! I wonder how he compares to your favorite teacher...

- He's much plainer, but he has a body to die for, and he can do massage like a pro.

- It sounds very exciting indeed. Do you have a picture of him? Maybe we could do a threesome.

- Thank you, Kurt, but I'm not sure I want to play these games anymore.

A smirk of contempt passed on Kurt's face, and his mouth drew a thin line. Then he sighed and took a jaded tone.

- Well, anyone can be replaced. Even you Erik... I actually have two candidates waiting for audition.

- Are you going to hate me now?

- Come on, please Erik, you should know I'm a gentleman.

- You used to give me books to read. Once you showed me something called "Gay Kama Sutra". How can I get it?

- I'll be delighted to send you a dedicated copy. You deserved it after all... Well, enjoy yourself now, Erik.

- Thank you, Kurt. Enjoy yourself too.

For all his perversity, Kurt was indeed a gentleman who had taste and kept his word. The following week, Erik received a parcel. It was a beautiful edition, probably expensive, illustrated with photos of handsome models. It featured about a hundred positions and techniques, including over fifty for anal, twenty for oral and miscellaneous other treats. On the front page, Kurt had written : "To a brave soldier", and signed.

Erik was now spending his weekends at Rolf's home in Nacka, leaving on Friday evening and returning on Sunday. It took over an hour with the subway and the suburban train, and he would sleep over. He had taken Camilla's place in the comfortable and bouncy double bed, making sure Rolf caught up with the years of abstinence she had imposed upon him. It took some adaptation, as Rolf snored like a bear, but Erik soon came to find it soothing and lulling. Rolf was much more predictable than Kurt, and Erik adapted with dedication to his routines.

The first thing they did upon Erik's arrival was taking off all their clothes. All Rolf still had on was his wedding ring on one of his stout fingers, and Erik though it suited him well. He would kiss Rolf's bald forehead and run his face against his beard, inhale his pheromones a long while, and play with the shaft and balls before taking him into his mouth. He would kneel down, look up and suck as eagerly as a baby on a bottle, watching Rolf's massive body towering over him with his legs apart. Rolf had learned that Erik's nipples were like magic buttons he just needed to press so that the boy totally let go. The sensation was all the more fulfilling that Rolf's physical strength was genuine, his flesh and fur were hearty and generous, and his muscular hands worked magic. Worshipping Rolf's cock felt natural and healthy, as though Erik was a plant opening up to receive the energy of sun or rainfall.

Their days started and ended with blowjobs, in the morning as they woke up, and in the evening after dinner, when anal was best avoided. Rolf would most typically stand as Erik kneeled down, but would also lay on his back with Erik sucking him off, or kneel in front of his face and flood it. The living room's mellow armchairs often served Rolf to sit comfortably spreading his legs, while Erik was bobbing inside his crotch. Kurt had made Erik an expert at deepthroat, which Rolf had never experienced. They also took a liking for sixty-nine. Erik was in heaven with Rolf's massive feet around his face, and his big hairy ass and balls displayed in front of his eyes. Rolf would not suck Erik's dick at first, but rather play with it and tickle it with his beard. He loved the sight of Erik's dick shooting. It took several weeks before Rolf would be tamed into it fully, starting to lick Erik's dick, then finally taking it between his lips, and relishing on the salty taste of his cum to his own amazement.

But even though sex was the backbone of their bond, it just punctuated a routine that involved several other activities. An important one was sports. Every morning, they would train like athletes in the living room for half an hour, doing push-ups, pull-ups and stretches. Then on Saturdays, they went back to the bathhouse in downtown Stockholm where they had met for the first time. They went into the sauna before and after swimming. In the pool, they competed to who would be most rapid and enduring. On Sundays, they would go running in the snowy woods of Nacka, playfully throwing snowballs at each other. Erik realized that Rolf's fitness was toughly earned. Even though Rolf was way ahead of him initially, Erik was naturally more supple, and it was easier and faster for him to gain muscle. Rolf acted with him as a demanding but benevolent sports coach. The soldier on Erik's mind complied with ease to the discipline.

Rolf also managed to add a few new elements to Erik's musical tastes. At home, Erik used to listen mostly to indie pop or melodic metal. He secretly loved classical piano composers like Chopin, but would avoid listening as it triggered painful emotions. He had found Rolf's taste for country music tacky at first. But he took a liking to it to his own amazement, soon knowing some of the lyrics by heart. Rolf's favorite song was "the Ride" by David Allan Coe, which made Erik think that was quite an inspiring title. The major discovery for Erik was blues. It turned out to be the only music they would play when they had sex. The slow thumping rhythm, the sound of treble bleed and mighty bass, the wailing voices, all created had a dark, heavy and erotic atmosphere that was adapted to strip down and more.

It was in the early afternoon, after they came back from sports, that they would engage into anal intercourse. Rolf had fully overcome his initial reluctance, and became hooked on it. He thoroughly enjoyed the tightness of boyhole, and the frank uncomplicated male attitude to sex. Six years of abstinence had accumulated a lot of energy inside his balls, and all his work-out and massage was proved now a good investment. He was in full shape to please a younger partner who seemed to enjoy every inch of himself. Although Erik suggested a variety of positions from the book offered by Kurt, many were discarded at once. Outside of the always reliable missionary, only a handful would prove sustainable in the long run. Rolf didn't like doing doggy or jockey and their variants, as he found it essential to watch Erik's eyes while he was inside him. Most of the intricate positions were ignored as too strenuous to be pleasurable, just acrobatic tricks good to watch in porn.

They liked it both when Erik sat on top, riding Rolf's cock and ejaculated on his belly. They found a use for the kitchen's elevated stools, adjusting the height so that Erik laid against the chair back and Rolf could fuck him standing, in the posture known as afternoon delight. Their most memorable discovery was however called the pile-driver. As Erik laid down with his legs up, Rolf would penetrate him standing, or even better crouching over his lap. That would imply muscular effort for Rolf with his abs and thighs, but it was that one that would trigger the wildest climax for Erik, as Rolf's cock would hit directly against his prostate. But the one that appealed most to them was the lotus, as Rolf sat cross-legged and Erik wrapped his own legs around him. It was fantastic, as their chests and faces were as close as possible. They hardly had to move at all, and they just let orgasm mount slowly.

Outside of a cockring to maintain Rolf's erections, they would not use any artefacts, and Rolf's cock was sufficient to fully satisfy Erik's urges. One thing Erik never managed to obtain from Rolf however was bareback. He hadn't wanted to let Kurt do it as he didn't trust him enough for that. But he would have longed to feel the gush of Rolf's semen inside his guts, and knew it was perfectly safe with him. Rolf always replied that condoms made him last longer for one thing ; and for the other, that if Erik was a biologist like him and knew about what was involved, he would quickly forget about it. Erik would compensate by savoring the fluid in his mouth even more preciously. A surprise for Erik is that his peeing inhibition disappeared, and they could both pee naturally in front of each other especially after sex, which Erik thought had a feeling of a pleasant virile comradeship.

After all this physical exercise came the main meal, which had to be hearty. Kurt had prescribed Erik the "bottom diet", consisting of fruit, vegetables and cereals so that his digestion would be as fluid as possible. Of course, that was not for the purpose of his health, but so that he could readily get fucked often. From the moment he had entered Rolf's kitchen, the lining of spice jars on the shelves had indicated Erik that Rolf was a lover of good food. They would often stick to Scandinavian habits, like rye cracker bread with sliced cucumbers or sliced cheese, or various sorts of smoked or brined fish. But during trips to Italy he had made with Camilla and Johan, Rolf had also fallen in love with Italian food. On Sunday, he would cook pasta or rice in a rich tomato sauce with vegetables. It would be accompanied by fruity Italian wines. Erik would participate to the cooking, and sharing good food increased their lust for life and for each other.

Things would not have been complete without Rolf giving Erik proper massage. Of course, he could not perform them like at his practice, as there was no massage table in the house, and they had to use the sofa instead. He would oil Erik's body, then knead his shoulders, back, chest and legs, applying firm pressure on the target points. Just like sex, Erik found it blissful and painful at the same time, as he would regularly ache while Rolf's vigorous hands were handling him. Rolf would use several techniques outside the classical Swedish one, but Erik's absolute favorite was shiatsu. It could easily be done on the floor and without oil. Rolf explained to Erik that its aim was to make the vital energy flow freely in the body, and that it released a hormone called oxytocin, also known as the love hormone. Erik would feel his inner blockages eliminated by the treatment, and always slept like a log every time he stayed at Rolf's.

In the evening, they would sit at a table with fragrant candles burning, or simply lay in bed. They started have long conversations despite their twenty six year age gap. Some of them would remind of crazy debates between university students. They passionately discussed how the advances of biochemistry and information technology would change the world, sometimes indulging into very dystopian visions. But little by little, each of them started talking about his past life while the other would listen, often with startled eyes at each other's frank and aching confessions. Rolf wouldn't judge Erik's willing descent into masochism, nor Erik the disturbing feelings Rolf had experienced for his son. Each became the person in the their lives who knew all about the other. Their differences were complementary, not only by their age but also by their minds : Rolf's gruff earthiness needed Erik's delicate and observant soul, and vice versa.

There was however one topic they would never discuss. They were lovers, yet the dynamics in their relationship was in many ways parallel to that of a father and a son. They were both aware of it of course, and they knew people would mistake them for father and son when they were outside together. Erik could not ignore that Rolf incarnated the strong and caring fatherly figure he always lacked and longed for. But from Rolf's infuriated reaction when he had called him "daddy", he knew better than hinting to that. Rolf could not ignore that he found in Erik an adult revival of the carefree bond he had had with Johan, which had been abruptly broken. He could not ignore that, although fully legal, their affair would appear taboo to most people, however liberal the society they lived in thought it was.

Erik would have had a word to describe their relationship. Whereas Kurt had been his master, Rolf was his mentor. But although Rolf's age and physique would invariably give him the top role, there was no hierarchy between them. Rolf's energy was self-evident to Erik, it flowed naturally, it didn't need to seek control or domination. Sex was no longer a dark drama that pushed Erik on the verge of self destruction, but a sound and vigorous sport that elevated both his body and his soul. Erik knew that Rolf was a gentle giant, but that made him human, and a role model he could hope to emulate. His unconditional lust and care made Rolf feel beautiful at his own surprise, and rejuvenated him. Rolf remembered that when he met Camilla, she had said he was "a rough diamond she would polish". It had never happened, but that was exactly what Erik now managed to achieve. Not only polishing the rough diamond, but making it shine.

CHAPTER 8

Camilla was hardly giving any news. She would mainly contact Rolf for administrative purposes, or would otherwise give enthusiastic reports about her new life, career and home in New York City, not asking her husband any personal questions. Rolf was almost more informed about her life through the posts on her Facebook wall than by herself. She posted pictures of herself everywhere with the same smug smile, at her office, at exclusive cocktail parties, at her new home on Long Island. Rolf was surprised to see Carl on many of her pictures. He was her former CEO, and she had never told him that he had moved to America. In the end of February, Camilla sent Rolf an email to prepare for Johan's cross country ski race in Sandviken. She had asked him to reserve a hotel and a restaurant table for the occasion.

On the Friday before the first weekend of March, Rolf picked up Camilla arriving from New York at Arlanda airport. He had not seen her in three months. Her attitude was standoffish and formal as he picked up her luggage. Once she had taken place in the car, she turned on the radio, tuned it to her favorite smooth jazz program, and slept in. After all, the jet lag was pretty bad from America to Europe, and Rolf was used to see his wife sleeping most of the time she was in his company. His heart felt nostalgic as he drove northwards. It had been several years he hadn't attended any of Johan's sporting events. After passing the city of Uppsala where Johan was studying, the spruce and birch forests were covered in snow. Rolf had to wake up Camilla when they arrived at Sandviken, and they checked in at the hotel he had at reserved, in separate rooms so that his snoring would not disturb her.

The competition was held yearly, each time at a different place. The race was 25 km long around a frozen lake. Rolf didn't expect there would be so many partakers, actually hundreds of them, while thousands of others were attending. It was all very noisy, with voices coming from loudspeakers, and all the supporters cheering and blowing hornets. Rolf and Camilla could not spot Johan among the crowd of competitors in colorful ski outfits. It was only at the end of the day, once the competition was over, that Rolf and Camilla managed to reach Johan by cell phone. Johan's cheeks and nose were all rosy from the whole day spent skiing in the cold. He didn't look like a teenager anymore, but had grown into a young man. He hugged Rolf warmly as they met, and it had been a long time since he had such a spontaneous move towards his father. He hadn't won the contest, but he had not expected to either as it was a first try, and he was just proud he had taken part.

They had dinner at the hotel. Although Johan was exhausted, Camilla wouldn't stop questioning him about his training and about the competition. Rolf kept silent but felt serene. After two months mostly spent with Erik, he had forgotten he had a family, and felt unusually glad to be with his son. The morning after, they headed south to Uppsala to drop Johan. They visited his room in his student home, and it struck Rolf to see how similar it looked to Erik's. They strolled around the city together, entering the historic University buildings, walking along the river past the red brick castle and the cathedral, and through the alleys of the botanical garden. Then they parted, and when Camilla and Johan kissed goodbye, Rolf noticed they had exchanged a look of connivence that he found unusual.

Rolf drove Camilla back to Arlanda airport, from where she would catch her plane back to New York. When she had taken her place in the car, she turned the jazz program on again, but for once she wouldn't sleep in.

- I have to be honest with you, Rolf, I am not coming back to Sweden anytime soon. I guess you probably knew it already, but Carl and I have been seeing each other for the past six years. He has been moved to New York since last June, and that's when he decided to appoint me, so I could come and join him. We're living together now.

So that was it. Six years was the exact time they had stopped having sex at all. Still Rolf had deemed Camilla too cold and business minded to have an affair, and he never suspected there could be someone else. But now that he had seen Carl's pictures on her Facebook page, it all made sense. What Camilla had wanted for a long time was a glamorous yuppie, not a boring and unworldly biologist.

- Of course I don't want to hurt your feelings, but I don't feel I'm the one you need either. Life's too short to be wasted. Anyway, I want you to know that I have nothing to say against you. You're earnest as can be, but we just don't have the same ambitions. You can keep the house and the island cottage. My own earnings are good enough to take care of myself. As for me, I'd rather not divorce for the moment, that would complicate things. Same for Carl who has his wife and two kids back here.

Rolf listened and kept silent. She had everything planned, speaking on a matter of fact and self-righteous tone, even trying to sound magnanimous. Rolf had a mean joy when the thought Erik had already taken her place in her own bed where they fucked like rabbits. But had she known, she would have only dismissed it with contempt. They were arriving at the airport and they parked. Rolf took out her suitcases and bags, and put them on a trolley. The viper had kept the final bite for the last moment.