GermanyThis episode is part of a series of Travel Tales, about Jason’s backpacking trip across Europe in 1995.

I couldn’t find my photos of Berlin :(  so the photo is a roughly contemporary free one, that I found online. –JAQ  (© Jerzy Durczak, used under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 license)


Because I’d left Copenhagen in the morning without planning, I arrived in Berlin in the evening, with no lodging booked. It was way too late in the day to get into a hostel, so I tried to find an affordable hotel, but came up empty. I even tried some places that were three or four times my budget, figuring I could find some place cheap the next day, but I was still hitting a Berlin wall.*

*The Berlin Wall itself had “come down” just a few years earlier. There were places here and there where pieces of it still stood, however.

In those days, I still lived a pretty sheltered life, but on this trip I was learning a lot, quickly. And it occurred to me that one way to find a place to stay was to get someone to invite me to his. (I briefly considered trying to do that with hers, but figured his would be easier.) So I flipped from the “lodgings” section of my guide book to “entertainment”, looking for a gay club.

It said that “Tom’s” was good for cruising, so I figured that would fit the bill. It was only two or three miles from the Hauptbanhof, so I locked up my pack and walked there, passing thru the Tiergarten, which is basically Berlin’s Central Park or Kensington Gardens. (It was too dark to appreciate the scenery, but I got back to it later in my visit, during daylight.) I stopped at a regular bar along the way, and had a couple drinks, figuring I could use a head-start, and it would probably be cheaper than at the gay club, because that’s the way it works.

As I approached the door of Tom’s there were a couple of middle-aged possibly-Greek guys walking away from it, talking angrily to each other and glaring at the guy at the door. He was a tough, Aryan-looking bouncer, and I was afraid I’d have trouble getting in, but apparently I met his standards, because he let me in without saying anything. And no cover charge, which I appreciated.

It was a pretty big place, with bars on multiple levels. Quite a few guys decked out in leather, but not so much that I’d stick out in my jeans and t-shirt. I bought a beer (yep: more expensive) and started to explore. It was only about 11pm, which I knew meant I was “early” by big-city-queer standards, but the place was still pretty busy. I hit the dance floor, where the DJ was playing loud techno.

“The early bird gets the worm” doesn’t always apply to gay bars, but I seemed to have a pretty nice selection to choose from. Not that I’ve ever had the luxury of just choosing who to fuck, but I did have the luxury of being a little selective. I flirted with several appealing prospects, but struck out. I was starting to get a little nervous – I had more than just my ego and libido at stake that night – when I noticed that someone was cruising me!

20EastMeatsWest_001He perfectly filled a pair of faded and worn Levi’s, and what looked like an army-issue olive-drab knit shirt with German flags on the shoulders. (Of course at the time, I still thought of them as West German flags.) We danced for several extended mixes, both of us working up a sweat, and during the segue from one to the next he tossed his shirt aside to retrieve later. Underneath was a delicious torso and arms, worthy of a gymnast. I started getting hard right there on the dance floor, as he and I took turns bumping into each other and otherwise making it clear that we wanted to fuck. He motioned for me to follow him, and led me to the bar in the next room, where it was quiet enough for us to hear each other. His name was Felix.

“You are English?” he guessed.

“Canadian,” I lied. Because on the spur of the moment I didn’t feel like being an American.

“I have never met a Canadian!” he answered, excited at the novelty of it. I congratulated myself at my decision. “Where in Canada do you live?” he asked. I hadn’t prepared an answer for that. I ruled out Quebec, because he might speak French, and my French was no better than my German. I went with Ontario.

“Is that near Toronto?”

Sigh. I needed him for a place to sleep, so I didn’t want to insult or embarrass him. “Ja.” I also very much wanted to fuck him. “You know foreign geography pretty well!” And I admit it: I’ve always taken a little comfort from the idea of Germans not knowing North American geography. Felix smiled, proudly.

I ordered us each a großes Bier – this stud-puppy was worth paying gay-club prices for – while he used his shirt to dry the sweat running down his tummy. I pointed at the flag on the its shoulder. “Are you in the army?”

“No, it is just… ah… a shirt?”

“Do you live here in Berlin?”

“I live in Berlin now. I am from Leipzig.”

“Wasn’t that in East Germany… the DDR?”

Ja. But I move to Berlin since the… Vereinigung?”

“Reunification?” I guessed. It’d been in the news, you know.

“Yes. Reunification!”

He tried to apologize that he hadn’t had much opportunity to practice English until moving to Berlin, which explained his lack of fluency.

Sie spreche Englisch besser…than…ich spreche Deutsch!” I interrupted, unintentionally demonstrating my point.

I asked about how things had changed for East Germans since 1989, not just for smalltalk, but because I was genuinely curious. The standard of living was very different in the DDR when Felix was growing up, and the eastern part of the country was still poorer, which is why people like him often moved to the west. I also worked in a question about whether he had his own apartment.

Ja! It is small, but it is very nice,” he bragged.

“I’d like to see it,” I smiled, putting my hand halfway up his thigh.

He drained about half of his liter of beer, then grinned mischievously. “I will show you my record collection!”

I chugged an equal amount of mine. “I’d love that!”

We drained our glasses in unison.

He put his shirt back on, and a short bus-ride later – we held hands inconspicuously at the back – we arrived at his apartment. It was in the opposite direction of the Hauptbanhof, but I figured a good fuck and a place to sleep was worth the longer trip back.

It was a studio with a small kitchen at one end. But he did in fact have a record collection, which included a bunch of German artists I’d never heard of, some unlicensed East-German pressings of big-name western artists like Michael Jackson and Genesis, and an assortment of the same popular stuff that had been selling at Virgin Megastores for the past five years. I put on Depeche Mode’s Songs of Faith and Devotion while he poured us each a beer.

We sat on his bed, and resumed talking as we put away a couple beers each. I answered his questions about life in… Ontario, and he explained more about the social and political changes he’d lived thru. The “leftist” East had been far more socially conservative, and it wasn’t just economic opportunity that brought Felix to Berlin: he’d also intentionally left his family in Leipzig so he could be more open about his sexuality in this “decadent” former outpost of the West.

He finished the beer he’d been drinking – I think he was more drunk than me, but I was pretty drunk, so maybe not – then pulled his shirt off, and kissed me passionately on the lips. I kissed back, my hands striking up and down his sides. We paused to catch our breath, and I slipped my shirt off. We kissed some more, Felix periodically reaching for my nipples to pinch them, then groping my ass, first thru the jeans, then sliding his hand inside them.

I massaged his hard cock thru his jeans, which I shortly had to unzip to avoid the poor boy injuring himself. A long, rigid pole sprang up from inside, foreskin already pulled back from its head. He unzipped my jeans, letting my cock make a tent of my underwear while he pulled them down in back to give his hands full access to my cheeks. From time to time he slid a finger to my hole. It was pretty clear where he wanted this to end up.

But I wasn’t quite ready to go there. I got up from the bed and eased him to lie back on it. I pulled his jeans and boxers off and began to stroke his belly with one hand, running my other hand up and down between his thighs. His stiff rod swayed drunkenly between them.

With one hand Felix reached for the back of my head, trying to steer it toward his cock, but I evaded him with a wicked smile and a wink. Gradually I worked each hand closer to his cock and balls, and he moaned as I scratched and juggled his sack, and ran my fingers thru his small patch of orange-brown pubes.

His moaning escalated as I licked my lips, extended my tongue, and slid his cock into my mouth (well, as far as it would comfortably go).

Lutsch…. suck it!” he grunted.

So I just sucked, holding it for half a minute. “Mein Gott!” he gasped as I released him.

I caught my breath then started sliding my lips up and down his pole, as he wriggled with enjoyment. I couldn’t deep-throat him – at least not from this angle – which disappointed me. But from the length of him, he was probably used to not getting that.

But I knew a place he could successfully play hide-the-frankfurter. (Wait… not Frankfurt… Is there a sausage named after Leipzig?)

I pulled a condom and travel-size tube of lube out of my jeans pocket and slid the pants and my underwear off. I squeezed a glob into the palm of my hand, and smoothed it all over his cock. He looked at me a little puzzled, apparently thinking I was going to have him fuck me bareback. “Für Sie,” I explained, as I unwrapped the rubber, then slowly rolled it down his cock. Well, most of the way down.

I then applied a glob to the outside. “For you!” he echoed, understanding. I poked a couple fingers of lube up my ass for good measure, then straddled him, his cock bumping against my butt.

20EastMeatsWest_002Felix reached up and grabbed my cock, which hadn’t been getting much attention (and I was a little drunk) so it was only half-hard. He gently slid my foreskin back and forth, and the staff began to slowly expand. I enjoyed this approach, but I knew a sure-fire way to quickly bring it to full-attention.

Fick mich!” I stage-whispered to him, and lifted myself up. With my right hand I pulled at my cheek, and with the left hand I grabbed his cock. Guiding Knob C into Slot A, I lowered myself onto him. I got a few inches of him inside me, then: Ouch! Shoulda used more lube!

I tried to pull off him, to try again. But he didn’t get my unspoken message, and instead grabbed my hips and thrust up further. “Ohhhhhhhhh! Fuck!” I wailed.

“OK? Ja?” he was concerned. But he was well inside me, and I figured it would be smoother from this point if we just kept going. And my cock now stuck out firm, hard as a 14-year-old in the gym showers.

“Oh, ja!” I assured him. But I slid his hands from my hips, and took control of the action. I slowly rode up and down on his dick, as the lube situation smoothed out. I worked on relaxing, trying to take him as deep as I could.

Felix thrashed his head about, moaning quietly, his eyes closed. His hands had made their way back to my hips, but so far he was still letting me drive. From time to time I clenched down on his cock, which drew a groan from him, louder each time. His breath started to get irregular, his grip on my hips grew tighter, and I felt him flexing his own hips with each stroke.

Fick mich!” I said, this time with a snarl.

He pulled down on my hips, thrusting his cock hard into me. He pulled himself back and lifted me up, then pushed deep into me again. His breaths came in gulps and he pounded into me. My own cock was sticking into the air, pre-cum oozing from it.

Fick mich hart!” I growled. I placed my hands on his chest, as if I was preparing to reach up and choke him. His chest heaved, and I pressed down. He fought to fully fill his lungs, as I resisted. Meanwhile, his hips bucked up.

With a howl that was half whimper and half groan, he opened his eyes. I briefly locked eyes with him. Then his cock gushed into me, and his eyes rolled back into his head. He repeatedly groaned something that might have been “Gott!” I counted five, six, seven times.

I was halfway to himmel myself, and grabbed my throbbing cock. Prodding myself on the cock in my ass, I started to jack myself the rest of the way to orgasm, but Felix pulled out. “Spritz auf mich!” he begged. “Cum on mein face!”

I coulda done that from where I was, I thought, but moved closer, and returned to jacking myself. Felix slid his hand between my legs, and pushed two or three fingers into my hole. As he massaged my prostate, I stroked myself.

20EastMeatsWest_003“Cum on mein face!” he urged me, and with a few more pokes from his fingers… I did. Load after load splattered across his face, into his hair, down his cheek, and into his mouth.

As I was winding down, he rubbed my prostate again. Oh fuck me! My balls tightened up, and I swear I shot three “bonus” loads.

He eased me up off him and got up from the bed. He slid off the condom, and squeezed the spunk from it into his hand. He added it to the jizz I’d spritzed on his face, and smeared some of the mixture on mine. We took turns licking our mingled spunk from each other’s face.

“You would like another beer?” he offered. We each had more than one. We didn’t have sex exactly, but we passed the rest of the time before going to sleep by playfully exploring each other’s body (resulting in the occasional erection), and supplementing our earlier fluid exchange with cultural exchange.

I have no idea how late we stayed up drinking, but eventually we ended up in Felix’s single twin-sized bed together, me facing the wall, and him behind spooning me.

 

Later in the night, I became half-awake, half-aware that Felix’s hard cock was pressed against my ass. No, not just pressed: rubbing. Not just rubbing: sliding. And with each stroke, the head bumped against my hole. Each time, I hoped it would do more than bump. I want him to fuck me.

The word “condom” crossed my mind. I remembered Felix’s reaction when he thought I was going to skip using one. So if he was trying to fuck me again, he must have one on, right? I want him to fuck me. Well, maybe not. But since he usually did, that meant he was safe, right? I want him to fuck me!

The next time his cock slid between my cheeks, I moved my hips, relaxed my sphincter, and his head was inside me. “Fick mich!” I whispered.

20EastMeatsWest_004He reacted immediately. There was little lube to speak of, but he plunged into me. I took it. I was sure now that he wasn’t wearing a condom, and my cock throbbed harder. I was asleep, so it wasn’t my fault. I want him to fuck my ass. As he fucked me, he mumbled something unintelligible, apparently asleep himself. I can’t wake him up! I started stroking my own stiff cock. I have to let him fuck me! I have to let him cum in my ass! Yes! He has to cum in my ass!

Awake or not, Felix fucked with efficiency. He held me with one hand on my hip. He didn’t pause or slow down, he just thrust again and again, increasing speed and force each time. He mumbled something again… it might have been “Ontario”. I stroked myself with equal determination. I want to cum as he cums in my ass!

He suddenly paused. This was it: he was going to cum! Instead my own cock exploded. Then Felix let loose.

He gasped and grunted with each load that squeezed into my ass. Oh god, he’s cumming! My cock continued to spasm. He thrust hard enough to hurt me. He’s cumming in my ass! My jizz oozed thru my fingers. His hand slipped from my hip. We’re cumming! His cock slipped out of my ass, and I felt a drop of hot jizz land on my thigh. I smeared it with my jizz-covered hand.

And it was over.

 

I woke just after dawn. Felix was still asleep. And semi-hard.

I slipped out of bed and surveyed the scene. The sheets were still wet with middle-of-the-night semen stains, and my inner thighs and hand were sticky with drying goo. Sure enough: the only condom to be found was the one I’d put on him during our waking round.

I swallowed my (his?) last half-empty beer, retrieved my clothes from the floor and quietly dressed. With one long look back at the beautiful naked man who’d given me a place to sleep and two good fucks, I went out the door.

I walked back to the Hauptbanhof, and retrieved my pack. Through the tourist info center at the station I booked a bed for the night, and planned a day of sightseeing in the capital of unified Germany.