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I had attended the CeBIT conference before. It was an annual event for my company and over the last few years had become an annual event for me. This year I was less enthusiastic than normal about going to Germany, but I didn’t have a good reason to back out.
The high tech conference is held every year in Hanover, over five days. It generates a lot of business for my company but the downside is the accommodation. That there are so many visitors that the infrastructure of the town can’t handle the influx of people—there is never enough hotel rooms. To alleviate this issue the local people host exhibitor employees and try to leave the available rooms for conference visitors. To me, the thought of living in a stranger’s home for a week rather than a hotel room was horrible, but after a couple of years I’d come to appreciate their hospitality and the insight into their lifestyle. It was never going to be home away from home, but it was not the uncomfortable hardship I’d expected.
This year I was staying with the Sterne family, Helga and Gregor. They had a son, Frank, and a daughter Inga, who were both at college. Inga had given up her bedroom for me and we all passed the time of day pleasantly as I came and went to the conference and dinner. Basically, I did little more than sleep and shower in their home.
The family gushed with kindness, were always accommodating and frequently offering meals that were not required as part of their boarding deal. Once or twice I accepted their offer of dessert when I’d come home from dinner. Helga’s lemon cheesecake was as good as anything I’d tasted. The children were also around a lot and enjoyed the opportunity to converse in English, something the parents mostly struggled with.
The biggest downside of this year’s conference was that the two colleagues I was traveling with were both were taking their spouses on the trip. This didn’t make much difference during the day as we manned the show booth and talked to customers, but it was a challenge to find a comfortable routine for dinner. Understandably, they wanted to eat alone, and I didn’t. I made it through most of the week hooking up with some old friends and my colleagues but when Saturday night rolled around I had no plan.
I walked around the town center for a while, checking out several local restaurants that were overflowing. The last thing I needed was a table for one in the middle of that cacophony. I thought about touring the red light district, even if it would only be for amusement, but decided not to—one tour there was probably enough for my lifetime. In the end I drove back to the Sterne’s suburb, found a pizza place and ordered a large pepperoni to go.
I wasn’t expecting anyone to be at home, but as I fumbled with the key in the unfamiliar lock Inga bounced her way to the door and pulled it open. She was in her early twenties, had short black hair and looked like she’d been studying as she had on some narrow glasses that I wasn’t familiar with.
“Come in Mr. David.” she beamed. “You got pizza?”
“Yes,” I admitted a little sadly, “The town’s very busy for dinner and I had no plans.”
Inga nodded. Her English, like all of the German students I’d met, was excellent. The funny thing was that most of them spoke with a slight American accent, a product of their watching US TV shows. And I can tell you, from the posters in her bedroom walls, all the clichés about David Hasselhoff being big in Germany, are all true. “Sit down.” She indicated the family dining table, where she had several books spread out. “I’ll get you a beer. Makes the pizza taste better, no?”
This wasn’t what I had planned. I’d figured to eat the pizza in the bedroom and catch an early night. My inclination was to turn down her offer, but that seemed somewhat ungrateful and they may not approve of food in their bedrooms. I placed the pizza box on the table and Inga brought a bottle beer and a glass form the refrigerator.
I indicated that she should help me consume the pizza, but she declined and set about clearing away her books. I told her not to, but she said she’d studied enough and would prefer to talk with me, practice her English. My heart sank. This was definitely not what I had planned for the evening.
In the end, it didn’t turn out so badly. She drove the conversation along very well for a non-native speaker and it wasn’t a hardship being in her company. Inga was tall and slim with a full figure, happy features and clear, bright eyes that were beautifully expressive. I found myself examining her tight blue jeans closely and wondering what she wore beneath her lime green shirt. She’d taken off the glasses and I thought that when she laughed and screwed up her button nose she looked extremely cute. I tried to shake such thoughts from my mind, figuring they were pointless and would only lead to me masturbating myself to sleep that night.
“Tell me about living in America?” Inga asked. She had never crossed the Atlantic and wanted to. She explained that after college she planned a three-month sightseeing bursa escort trip through Canada and the US.
I ran through a bunch of things I thought she should plan to do on her trip and told her about my everyday life. I never thought the daily comings and goings of a Program Manager with a passion for dogs and volleyball was interesting, but she seemed enthralled and hung off my every word, down to needing to know how often I went to Starbucks.
Like most people, once I’m engaged in talking about myself, I got more comfortable and started to have fun with Inga. She broke out more beer, one for her this time also, and finally took a piece of pizza, brought it back to life in the microwave and chomped on it as we talked.
“So what’s with the pizza tonight? Why aren’t you out with your friends? Isn’t that what you all come for… the beer, the food, and the red light district.”
I laughed and explained what had happened, that I really was here to work, I could get beer in the US also and that red light districts weren’t of much interest to me.
She puzzled over this. The attitude to prostitution is a lot more relaxed in continental Europe and the fact that men visit brothels is an accepted fact of life. I told her that it just wasn’t something I was used to and had very little interest in. She probed me and I reluctantly admitted that I didn’t like the idea of paying for sexual services.
“It’s no big deal.” She shrugged off my reluctance. “Better that a man has somewhere to go and can pay to fulfill his needs than his home life… suffers, or worse, he rapes someone.”
Not exactly comfortable with where the conversation was going, I shrugged and nodded agreement.
Inga was less inhibited though and bolstered her argument, “The brothels are clean, licensed and pay taxes. Say a man is unhappy at home because he doesn’t get… a blowjob. Wouldn’t it be better that he paid forty dollars for one, than feel bad at home. It’s only a blowjob.”
I almost giggled, enjoying the refreshing attitude. I thought back to my college days and wished I’d heard that statement before—it’s only a blowjob. “Yes, yes,” I finally agreed, “you have a point. I’m just not used to such a… liberal attitude.”
Inga smiled gently and her face reverted to a more demure look. “America is supposed to be so… free, but I think we’re lucky in this aspect of our freedom.”
I agreed with her, much as I longed to be back in the US where I could get a good pizza.
“I hope your evening wasn’t too bad.” Inga started to clear away the box and empty bottles. “Did I ask too many questions?”
“No.” I assured her. In fact, the evening had flown by and it had been fun talking with her. “This was a much better evening than I expected.”
“And you’re not sad about missing out on going to the brothels?” There was a coy look in her eyes now. She knew she was playing with me.
“No regrets. Even after hearing your viewpoint.”
She shook her head and gave me a scornful look. “Maybe you just haven’t had a European girl.”
I weighed up my answer, knowing I was in a place where political correctness was going to be a difficult challenge. “I can’t imagine that would make all that much difference, but I’m happy sticking to my guns and live without knowing for sure.”
Inga stood and considered my statement. I’d hoped that it left her nowhere to go, but she came back with the least expected question I’ve ever been asked, “What about I give you a blowjob?”
There was nothing in her face to suggest she was being anything other than dead serious. I was about to ask if she meant what she said when she added, “That way you won’t have to live without knowing.”
“I… er…” I stammered my way though a hundred thoughts and was hit by a blast of sexual tension ran through the house like a nuclear shockwave. Inga stood there, taking it all in her stride. Not getting the words out, I probably nodded and she reacted immediately.
“I’ll get another two beers. Shall we go upstairs?”
“If you’re sure.” I said, knowing I sounded lame but not wanting to give up the opportunity not it was apparently real. Inga simply took my elbow and pointed me towards the stairs.
Stunned by the matter-of-fact tone that got us to this point, I walked into her room slightly dazed and watched as she hustled around the room, taking my travel bag from her bed and placing it on the floor. When she excused herself and hurried off to the washroom I watched her lithe frame leave with a bounce and looked at my image in the full-length mirror. There was nothing there to suggest that I was an American hunk, irresistible to Inga. The front of my pants had a tell-tale bulge though, so one part of me had no trouble believing this was really happening.
When she returned her face was all smiles, but nothing had changed about her mission and her hands were all business. For the first time I got the impression that this was nothing to do with proving a point, and all about having fun. Inga stepped straight up to me and bursa escort bayan started to unfasten my clothes.
“You could get undressed, but I think you’d prefer me to do it, no?” Her eyes looked playfully up at me as she stopped towards the front of my pants.
I said nothing. I loved being undressed so wasn’t about to disagree with her.
She had no trouble with my belt and zipper but before she pulled my pants away she fished in my underwear and took a hold on my cock. While not quite at my peak, I was hard enough for her to nod approvingly as she brought it out. She kept a hand on my shaft while she used the other to ease away my clothes.
When I’d stepped out of my pants she asked me to take off my shirt. I complied, unbuttoning it swiftly while she stroked me towards full strength. Once I was naked, Inga motioned me to sit on the bed. Physically I was rock hard in her hands, but emotionally, I was putty.
“Do you like blowjobs?” She looked up at me, her shining eyes a delight and her hands gently massaging me.
It was probably the most ridiculous question I’d ever been asked, but in her accent it sounded more innocent than it had any right to. “Of course. I love them. I love anything sexual with a woman.” And then, given Inga’s free attitude, I had a quick vision of handcuffs and added, “Anything normal, at least.”
“Good,” she looked down at my cock in her hands. “Maybe we can mutually benefit from the experience then?”
I nodded as she drew her hand all the way up my shaft. “Mutual benefit is always a good thing…” I looked at Inga’s happy face just in time to see her plunge her sweet young mouth over the end of my cock.
Her mouth was wet and her tongue busy. She clamped her lips around the rim of my cock and ran her tongue all around the head. It felt wonderful and I fell back onto the bed. Her hand gripped the base of my shaft and held me vertical as her magic mouth went to work and had my balls tingling in seconds.
“How do you like European girls so far?” Inga came off me and slipped up my body so that her face was directly in front of me. She left her hand behind to continue gently stroking me.
“They seem great… so far.” She kissed me, her tongue immediately exploring my mouth, just as it had done my cock. I lifted my hand and pushed against her breast, feeling her nipple through the material, unprotected by a bra. “But right now, you have too many clothes on.”
That situation didn’t last long. Inga kissed me again and then stood up. She pulled her shirt over her head to reveal her pert, lively breasts with bigger nipples than I’d imagined. She was about to pull open her jeans when I stopped her. “Let me.” I half-asked, half-commanded. Sitting up, I reached over to pull down her zipper, making a slow move all the way down between her thighs.
Inga sighed as I undid her jeans and whispered, “Good.” As soon as the zipper was undone I eased my fingers into the sides of the waistband and started to pull them down. She had to wriggle a bit until I got them half-way down her thighs, but the pair of red and white striped panties that were now inches from my face was a more than ample reward.
As soon as she stepped out of her jeans I ran a finger over the front of her panties, moving down and gently feeling her female contours through the sheer material. I felt her take a deep breath and open her legs a little so my fingers could slide further. As I worked along the furrow of her pussy lips I could feel her heat and I looked up to see what effect my movements were having on the rest her. Inga had her eyes closed in deep concentration as I felt her. She swallowed and I pushed harder into her slit. She bit her lower lip and I moved a finger around the edge of her panties and inside. I continued to watch her as I pushed my finger straight up and into her. Inga’s head moved back and I heard her give a little gasp as I felt her warmth.
I withdrew my finger and quickly pulled down her panties. Now she stood naked before me, glorious and flushed with excitement. I looked down at her pussy. It appeared recently shaven and inviting as the slit disappeared under her. I brought my finger back up and ran it along her pussy lips, noting that they were now feeling wet an excited. It was interesting to me that all the initiative she’d shown in getting me to the bedroom had disappeared and she was now at my mercy.
“You feel so sweet.” I looked up and told her.
She thanked me with a breathy voice and reached out to touch my cheek. With our eyes locked I pushed my finger inside her and watched as she swallowed and bit her lip again. “That feels so good.” she moaned.
I couldn’t resist adding a second finger and thrusting in and out a few times. Inga seemed helpless as I pushed into her and I noted that her eyes had closed. She was soaking wet now that my fingers had distributed her juices liberally. I reached up with my free hand, took hold of her breast and fed the nipple into my mouth. I sucked hard on it and rubbed the tip with my tongue. Inga escort bursa gave an involuntary shiver and moaned as I continued to push my fingers into her.
My aim was to keep her where she was and make her come, but Inga finally managed to snap out of her trance and show that she had other ideas. Stepping sideways, off my fingers, she slipped onto the bed and motioned me to slide up a ways and join her. “How’s your evening now?” she giggled, recovered from her fingering trance and reaching for my cock to starting to stroke it again.
“Definitely better than expected.” I admitted. I wrapped my arm around her and took a firm hold of her ass cheek with my hand. My index finger managed to feel all the way between her cheeks so that the tip rested against her pussy lips. “And I get to explore my first European pussy.”
Inga kissed me, her tongue exploring inside my mouth and her hand pulling urgently on my cock. I worked my thigh between hers and pushed up so that I could feel the heat of her pussy. “Can you put it in?” she asked, sounding quiet and much less secure than she had a few minutes earlier.
“Not yet.” I wasn’t being cruel, or teasing her unduly—I wanted to taste her.
I sat up a little and rolled her over so that I could reach down, pull her legs open and get my face between her legs. I took a look at her glorious open pussy lips and smelled her womanly sex before I lowered my tongue onto her fiery skin.
Her slick skin felt smooth on my tongue as I glided up, along the slit between her lips. She had a gorgeous, tight little hole and I pulled her open with both hands so that my tongue could probe her. I couldn’t get near as deep as my fingers, but Inga wriggled under me as I licked. European girls didn’t seem to be any different from American girls—they all felt great on my tongue and all appeared to love having their pussy licked.
I felt her grab my dangling hard on and start to stroke it. Her slow stroking was a distraction as it immediately started an orgasmic build-up in my balls so I knelt up from my labor of love on her pussy and looked down at Inga. I reached out and felt her breasts in turn and then motioned to get between her legs.
She had other ideas. “Like this.” She got onto her side, lifting one leg up and offering me her open pussy. I was sure she meant that I should lie on my side also, but I decided to kneel behind her and guide my cock into her pussy. She offered no resistance to this idea and even grabbed a pillow to raise her hips up a bit to help me penetrate her better.
I straddled her lower leg, shuffled close to her and pushed the head of my cock down to her pussy lips with my hand. When I’d got the tip a half-inch inside her I took my hand away, grasped her hip and her thigh and eased myself inside her with a wonderfully long push. She was tight but I slipped in easy, her pussy walls were superbly lubricated by then. When I’d gone as far as I could I stopped and reached over to take hold of her breast, pulling on her nipple as it found its way between my fingers.
Slowly I withdrew as far as I dared, then pushed again. My delight in feeling her around my cock was incredible. Inga had her eyes closed again and was panting now. She made a vain attempt to lean back and touch me, but I was out of reach for her. I looked down and caressed the curve of her ass cheeks as I make some long, slow strokes inside her. She lifted the knee of her top leg so I could get further inside her and I obliged by leaning over her body so I got as much of my hard on inside her as possible.
If it was possible for me to get turned on more right then, the sight of Inga’s face, eyes closed and covered with a look of delight and relief, did it. I continued to slowly ease in and out of her, keeping my cock pointing down into her pussy and now lightly fingering her clit with my hand. I looked down and watched as my length disappeared into her opening, pushing at her lips, slipping past them and into the depths of her gorgeous cave of ecstasy.
She lifted her leg and her pussy opened wider for me, showing her pink skin and inviting. I took the opportunity to fully withdraw my cock a few times and plunge it back in, deep. Every time I reentered she gasped and her leg dropped, but she always raised it again, as though asking for more.
I rubbed her hot little clit vigorously and was rewarded by Inga panting sharply and giving out several tiny squeals of pleasure. As much as we’d started down this journey to pleasure only me, I was now totally enthralled by the way this young sexual creature responded to my movements and found it heightening my arousal. She managed to look back at me. There was no smile on her face, just the wonton look of a woman high on our coupling and seemingly desperate to come.
I stopped forcing my cock downwards into her and slipped onto the bed behind her, into the original position she requested. As soon as I was in position her hand hungrily sought my cock and guided it back inside her soaked pussy. I wrapped an arm around her and planted my hand over her breast. Inga’s skin was hot to the touch everywhere and she was backing onto my cock urgently already. I started a few thrusts of my own and reached down across her belly with my free hand to find her clit.
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