This episode is part of a series of Travel Tales, about Jason’s backpacking trip across Europe in 1995.
Don’t misunderstand from my previous Travel Tale: I did more in Iceland than just visit small town swimming pools. I also spent a few days in Reykjavík, which is the capital of Iceland, and by far the largest city: almost as large as my hometown. I was there in the middle of Summer, which meant that I could easily go out to the country’s only gay nightclub (“22″, named for its street number) and party until the sun came up… because that was about 3am.
But of course one of the main reasons for going to Iceland was the landscape. There are three big attractions in the area near Reykjavík:
One is Þingvellir (the first letter is pronounced like “th”), which is famous for two things: 1) It was the original site of Iceland’s Alþingi, the longest-running parliament in the world. 2) It’s the location where the continental plates of Europe and North America are slowly pulling apart, creating cracks and gaps in the rocks. This is the reason for Iceland’s geysers and volcanoes.
The second big attraction is Gullfoss, a huge waterfall where the river Hvítá turns a sharp corner and drops down in stages, seemingly disappearing into the earth… until you get close enough to see into the gorge where it flows on.
The third is Geysir, the erupting hot-spring that all other geysers are named after. Geysir itself is a bit of an old man, and doesn’t go off very often any more (and needs a little help in the form of soap to stir up the water a bit). But there are others in the area that erupt regularly, including Strokkur, a teenage geyser that shoots every 5–10 minutes.
I visited all three of these sites in a bus tour out of Reykjavík. I don’t really like bus tours, because you’re stuck keeping to their schedule, but it was less effort than renting a car. Even so, I was kinda worn out when I got back to the city. But not too worn out to go take a quick dip at one of the outdoor pools.
I took a hot shower, which felt great after a day of hiking around the sights. I was rinsing off and about to head for the pool, when a hot guy walked in from the lockers, preparing to take a shower himself. I immediately started washing again, pretending I’d just gotten there.
This man was quite a bit older than I, probably around 50, with a bit of grey in the temples and beard. But it was clear that this was not a man who was going to let his body get soft and weak as he aged. He had bulging deltoids on his shoulders, huge lats running down either side of his back, and each nipple was mounted on a firm slab of meat. This was a body that could only have been built through many years of regular exercise, a walking advertisement for the pools of Iceland.
What tourism ads wouldn’t show, however, was what hung between the man’s legs. From beneath his thatch of pubic hair emerged a thick tube of flesh, with several visible veins, and a huge knob at the end, covered by a heavy foreskin. And in a sac beneath this were two plum-sized globes, each seemingly trying to hang lower than the other.
The man smiled politely and greeted me quietly in Icelandic; I just smiled and nodded in reply, not wishing to draw attention to the fact that I was a foreigner. He approached the task very methodically, but not in any hurry… like it was an important and enjoyable ritual he performed. He started by washing his hair, then his face. As he began to wash his left arm, he very slowly stroked his soapy hand up and down the limb, flexing and gently massaging each sinew as he went. He then repeated the process on his right arm. He rubbed both shoulders the same way, followed by a rotating rub-down of his smooth pecs, and a slow up-and-down caress of his back and abdominal muscles. Reaching behind himself, he grabbed his ass cheeks with both hands, flexing and rubbing them in unison.
At this point, he put another squirt of soap in his right palm. With his left hand he grabbed his cock and pulled back the foreskin. He slowly rotated his right fist around the exposed head, then pulled back to soap up the shaft. After several strokes, he took a ball in each palm, and worked soap into the folds of his nut-sac. Leaving his half-erect cock dangling in mid-air, he proceeded to massage soap over each of his beefy legs, much as he had with his arms.
By this time, I had all but forgotten about pretending to wash myself. I just stood there with the water spraying on my back, sporting a hard-on which I was absently massaging. He was still paying me no attention, and proceeded to rinse off, a process which followed the same pattern as the lathering, but went more quickly. Still ignoring me, he tucked his meat into his swim suit and went outside.
I couldn’t stand it. Looking around, I saw no one else in the showers. Squirting a fresh supply of soap into my palm, I double-timed myself to a quick orgasm. I finished just in time, rinsing off just as a couple of men – not that hot, to be honest – walked in. I put on my swim suit and walked outside. The beefy guy was swimming laps, but I was in the mood to relax in the hotpot. I shared it with an elderly couple and a trio of teenage girls. Tired, I just closed my eyes and enjoyed the soothing waters.
I opened my eyes to discover that the girls were climbing out, leaving me alone in the tub. The swimming pool was empty too. I looked over at the clock, and saw that it was 10:55 pm! I hadn’t realized it was so late because it was still light out. And I remembered that the pool closed at 11:00.
I climbed out of the tub and walked to the showers, where I took off my swimsuit and started washing. I went quickly, but couldn’t help pausing to give my cock – which was semi-hard – a bit of a massage. My eyes were closed as I turned around to let the water flow down my back. When I opened them again, dick still in my hand, I saw the muscle daddy standing in the doorway with a towel over his shoulders, watching me.
“My God! You scared the shit out of me!”
He paused briefly, apparently registering that I spoke English. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Walking closer to make conversation easier, he added, “I was just trying to be friendly. My name is Leif, by the way… it’s my job to close the place up.”
“Oh… well… no problem. I just didn’t realize you were there, so you startled me. No problem at all.” In fact, I was rather pleased by the sight of him. “In fact, I’m sorry for holding you up like this.”
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind.” He paused a beat. “Not at all.”
Leif tossed the towel aside and stepped forward, joining me under the shower head. He briefly kissed me on the lips, then moved down to my neck, my collarbone, and my chest, licking and kissing as he went. He made his way to my groin, where my cock was sticking straight up. He licked at it, running the tip of his tongue along the ridge of the head. Then he kissed the tip, slowly working his lips around it. When he had the head fully engulfed, he reversed direction, gradually easing it out through his puckered lips.
As he started to engulf the head again, I lost my balance and slipped again on the wet floor. “Maybe we should find some place else?” he offered. “With everyone gone, we can go outside.”
He led the way out to the hotpot, and motioned for me to sit on the upper ledge. The water covered my thighs, but my cock stuck up into the air. Leif kneeled in the pool itself, and returned to kissing my head. After a while, he began to take in more, a little bit more each time he went down. Soon he was drilling his face all the way down to my balls, splashing it in the hot water with each bob. With the water stimulating my balls and the Icelandic cock-sucker worshipping my head, I was on the verge of cumming. “Oh… God… I’m gonna…”
Leif abruptly stopped. “Not yet.” He grinned mischievously.
He pulled me down into the hot water with him. I spread my arms and held onto the edge of the pool, as he spread my legs apart. He slid his cock head between my cheeks, stiffening with each pass. The minerals in the water gave it a slippery feeling, so when he was fully hard, he found my hole with it, and was able to just ease his way into me.
Even so, it was a lot to take in all at once, and I gasped “Oh my fuck!”
“Am I hurting you?” he asked, genuinely concerned.
“Yeah,” I grunted, my eyes closed tightly. “Keep going!”
He chuckled. And paused briefly. Then he pulled halfway back and shoved his cock back in, hard.
“Fuck!” was all I managed.
He did it again. And again.
I opened my eyes, and looked into his. Rather than the scowl or sneer of a role-playing top, he smiled warmly. Not that he wasn’t enjoying it, but he enjoyed it just as much that I was too. I air-kissed him, and he leaned in closer, nibbling at my chin and my lips. I licked his nose, and he rolled his eyes back, then stretched forward to kiss me. We wrestled tongues briefly, while he continued to fuck me.
I was a little congested, and couldn’t breathe well enough thru my nose, so I pulled away from the kiss to catch a breath. But before I could fill my lungs, his mouth covered mine again. I kissed back, enjoying the little power game we were playing, then pulled away again for air. He cut me off again.
As my head started buzzing, and my cock got harder, I began to understand what he was doing. I was on the verge of cumming. Still, I instinctively tried again to get a good breath of air. As our lips parted, he whispered, “Hold your breath!”
I gulped air, then quickly closed my mouth as he pulled me away from the edge of the hotpot. I lost my hold and slid under the hot water. With my hands now free, I grasped his arm with my right hand, and my throbbing cock with my left. Leif pushed hard into me, then held me still ribs as I furiously worked myself as quickly as I could toward orgasm.
After was seemed like several minutes, but was probably more like 10 seconds, Leif lifted me – with his cock and strong arms – so my head cleared the water. My mouth gaped wide, as I sucked in air with heaving breaths, and cock went into spasms. Each deep inhale and each deep exhale was matched by a mind-blowing gush: In. Pump. Out. Pump. In. Pump. Out, Pump. Some water splashed into my mouth, and I coughed. Pump. Cough, cough. Pump. In, cough. Pump. Out. Pump. Cough. In.
As my head spun, I reached back for the edge of the pool, and found it. I began to notice the sound of Leif’s breath, as he resumed sliding his cock into me. His smile was gone, faded into a soft open-mouthed silent moan, his eyes closed.
“Oh yes!” I encouraged him. I coughed. “Fuck me! Cum in me!” He missed a breath.
“Oh god!” I grunted, not for his sake… I couldn’t help it as he thrust even harder. “Oh god!”
He stopped, filled his lungs, and moaned loudly. I felt his cock gush into me, and he began to thrust again. His breath kept time too, but less frantically than mine had: In. Pump. Pump. Out. Pump. Pump. In. Pump. Pump. Out.
I watched as the smile returned to his face. I was grinning from ear to ear. His eyes blinked open and we stared into each other’s. It was about a minute before either of us spoke or moved.
“I guess you gotta close up now?” I ventured.
“Já,” he answered with a wry smile.
With a contented sigh, he climbed from the hotpot, and I followed. We walked arm in arm to the showers, where we lathered each other up, and helped each other rinse. Then repeated. I got a little hard again, but I knew that an encore wouldn’t live up to the main event. While we dressed, he asked about my trip, and I told him where I’d been so far, that I was leaving the following evening for Norway, and so on. He suggested a few sights worth checking out in Bergen, and after a brief make-out session, he wished me a safe journey, and I walked out into the midnight sunlight.
The waterfall Gulfoss… note the people standing next to it on the left, for scale.