European, 18, slim, taut, extremely drunk, Iain lay pretty much comatose as his butt was wiped clean with a fresh white handtowel. Then he turned onto his side and closed his eyes, opening them a few moments later to search under the sheets for his underpants. Struggling into them, covering bottom and genitals, he felt the illusion of security and fell into restless drunken sleep.

Earlier that evening. Utterly nauseated Iain pulled away, turning his head aside from the girl's mouth open so wide it entirely enveloped his so he could find no lips only a gigantic breathy cavern stinking of old cigarettes. Sure he liked girls, it was the natural way, yet not this disgusting experience. Hitch-hiking up valley of the Rhine rides had been a long time acoming, as much as 5 hr wait one place and depression had overcome him, some great unsatisfied need. Need for sexual connection with someone. A girl someone, of course. Before leaving home the same desire and depression hit him and he'd taken a bus into the city then wandered vaguely around an area the evening newspaper harped was haunt of prostitutes, but must have been in the wrong place, found none and came home four hours later foot-weary, deeply frustrated. Now finally reaching Frankfurt the depression became unbearable.

 His German was good and in the first bar he got talking to a group of three girls and two guys about two years older than he. One girl had recently lost her boyfriend. Big breasts, long legs, long blonde hair. He chatted to her and she responded to him with humorless teutonic dedication to the task in hand. Her kisses....nauseating. Squeezing her tits, his first real squeeze. Hand under her tight sweater found no bra - firm outstanding cones. Whether it was her unresponsive yet dedicated determination for sex put him off he couldn't say yet the immense weariness of need he couldn't satisfy swept over him like a black fog and when she was in the toilets and the others weren't paying attention he slipped swiftly from the bar and away, pushing through the thronged night street.

 Two more German beers in tall glasses on an empty stomach in an attempt to dispel the blackness and he became sufficiently drunk to lose his way. Went into another bar just to ask the way, and found himself being talked to by a pleasant negro of about 25. "I know the street you want, I'll take you there, have another beer first."

They'd chatted in German for half an hour before each realized the other spoke English. Of a sort. Justin was an American GI stationed in Frankfurt: "Yo, my name's Justin, man, what's yours?"

"Iain, I'm Scottish." Iain wondered what language Yo was. Spanish maybe.

 "What you doin' here alone?"

 "Hitch-hiking home up the Rhine. The rides are awful. No-one wants to stop and when they do they're only going short distances. I'm not making any progress."

 "I'm taking a weekend R&R in Amsterdam, I can drive you right up tomorrow morning."

 Iain felt immense relief. He could at least cut the journey short, escape the depression of loneliness.

"You can stay here the night" Justin told him when for reasons Iain couldn't then fathom they arrived at the GI's apartment near midnight. "Here, drink this." Handing a glass of whisky.

 "I don't like whisky."

 "It's Scotch, like you. Drink. It'll do you good."

 An element of order in the voice. Iain found himself complying. Justin's company had swept away the black depression and fearing its return Iain gladly, innocently said he'd stay.

 "Fine. Undress for bed."

 "Undress?" Iain felt a sudden twinge of nervousness.

 "Strip to your underpants. Ready to go to bed. I'm gonna to use the bathroom - unless you need it right away?"

 Again Iain felt compelled to comply, though wondering now if he really ought get back to the youth hostel.

 "You have a beautiful body" Justin said when he returned from the bathroom wearing only jockey shorts, his body looking bigger and alarmingly muscled without clothing. He sat in the armchair, poured another glass of whisky. "Here, drink this."

 Iain knocked it back, he forgot why. Justin ran his hand down the boy's belly, then put the other lightly on his backside. "Your ass is round and full like a girl's, do you know that."

Frightened Iain moved away.

"Get into bed" Justin said gently.

 Iain climbed into the wide bed, lay on his side close to the edge, closed his eyes. Justin got in the other side, lay a while. Iain could hear him breathing.

"Kid." Propping himself up on one elbow, gently pulling Iain around onto his back, the negro said "If you gonna stay here, I'm gonna fuck you."

Insides trembling Iain looked up, afraid to say anything. The whisky taking effect he was more dizzy by the moment. The black's muscles bulged, he was a trained marine and much bigger. "You can go back to the hostel. I'll call you a taxi and still take you to Amsterdam tomorrow, if'n you want. But if you stay, I'm gonna make love to you."

He'd said make love. A man make love to him? Iain felt strange. As if suddenly feminized, passive. But he was a man and a man went with women, that was how he'd been taught. Still he said nothing. Would Justin really allow him leave or start to hit him if he tried? And then there was the awful thought of more days waiting hours for rides, sinking under the agony of this black depression of sexual need and loneliness. Justin claimed he'd still drive him north to Amsterdam, but Iain knew he wouldn't bother to come pick him up.

 "Well, what's it gonna be?"

 Not speaking, Iain turned on his side offering his butt, fumbling with his underpants.

 "Not like that" Justin chuckled. "I don't do it like that - though...." Taking Iain by the shoulder he gently, firmly turned him onto his back on the bed, threw the bedclothes back then deftly slipped Iain's underpants off. The feel of them being slid down while he lay passive made Iain feel shockingly feminine.

"You have really lovely legs, kid" Justin said.

 Iain didn't want to feel like a girl. "Don't say that, please" he moaned as Justin pulled his own shorts off. Iain didn't look. Lay back, letting himself swoop into alcoholic stupor as the black positioned his body on his elbows above and pressed his groin against the boy's. Ian groaned again and felt his delicate foreskin pulled painfully back as the black's hard cock began rubbing up and down against him. Separating himself from his own body Iain just lay there.

Justin had dreamed of something like this. A beautiful leggy white boy. And he soared into ejaculation in no time at all, squirting beautiful release copiously over the smooth flat pale belly. Looked at it. Some load of cum he'd shot. Cleaned it up. The boy was really drunk, but even drunk he was gorgeously cute. Gorgeous. Justin was asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

Justin soon awoke with a raging hardon and lay looking at the boy's sleeping back. Pulling back the covers gently, looked him up and down. The full curve of the buttocks. He'd never had anal sex, was only in his own first year of homosexual contact, first and only lover a fat middleaged kraut transvestite with an ugly ass. This ass was so cute the thought began to interest him. He went to take a leak and when he returned the boy was lying on his back still asleep, cock hard beneath the Y-fronts probably with a sleep hardon. Justin's own erection returned enormous and throbbing, pressing hard against his belly. Shame though it would be to waken the kid, couldn't resist, had to have him again.

Iain awoke just as his underpants came off past his feet and didn't realize fully what was happening till the great bulging shoulders and pecs came over him. He was almost sober now. Looking down he saw the other cock big and hard and very dark purple dwarfing his white and pink cock. My God! I'm being taken by a black he thought in agony. I'm losing my manhood being fucked by a dumb negro GI. The stiff shaft rubbing up and down on his belly and over his cock chafed the foreskin, sensitive through never having been used. He wanted to push the man off but looked at the bulk of the muscles and knew he'd never manage, felt afraid.

"Take it easy, kid" the black said in a voice very gentle, deep and masculine. "Gahd, what a beautiful body. I'd love to see you in a very short skirt - white like your skin." His words brought that feeling again, made feel pretty, passive, accepting. Horrible, awful. He couldn't permit this! Then suddenly lips kissed the side of his neck, sending feelings through his body he'd not ever felt before. Hot and soft the lips ran down his neck electrifying him, down his chest and closed upon a nipple. This must stop. Iain raised his hands to the black's shoulders and tried push him away.

"No, no. Stop. I don't want it..."

His touch and light protests excited the black, innocence the sweetest sexual gift of all, and he felt his orgasm suddenly gather at the base of his penis, his hips taking on that automatic regular unconscious thrusting.

Something seemed to click inside Iain suddenly. He quickly bent and licked the black mans balls, feeling almost immediately the burning heat on his upper belly of the man's first spurt of ejaculation and then suddenly something awful and strange and wonderful gathered in his own groin and he realized, too late, he was coming. Cum shot from his penis, his body convulsed automatically and he gripped the black's sides as a long orgasm, his first real orgasm hit him and went on and on, his semen mixing with Justin's upon his own belly as he closed arms and legs around the big thrusting body wracked by an equally powerful orgasm.

While Justin slept Iain did not and lay confused. The only time he'd orgasmed before was with an older girl, 23, who'd refused let him touch her. She'd jerked him off and complained it was cradle-snatching. First orgasm in full naked sexual contact and it was with a male. Black male.

This was the most awful thing to happen in his life. Destroyed. He'd lost his manhood. Brooding for ages, he finally rose carefully from the bed and went to the kitchen. Quietly opening drawers found a long pointed carving knife and returned with it to the bedroom. Justin still slept. Plunge the knife in, reassert his manhood and flee into the night. Several minutes he stood over the bed. Knew he'd not do it and returned the knife to its drawer, returned to bed and slept. Only to be awoken again from deep comfortable sleep by Justin pulling his underpants off a third time. "No!" Iain said more vigorously this time.

"Yes" said Justin and continued with the male selfishness Iain had read women complain of so frequently. This time Iain did not become aroused, though his cock hardened under the friction, and Justin took longer to ejactulate. It was tiresome.

Damn, me Iain thought when he was awakened yet again to find Justin already on top of him rubbing cock upon cock. Iain's cock was already raw and he really wanted to sleep, but now Justin kept rubbing and rubbing and rubbing, striving to climax and unable. Iain looked down at the cock. Handsome, thick, long, ribbed with veins. Recalling the 23 yearold girl's hands on his cock he decided the man needed help to come off. At least then Iain could get some bloody sleep.

Scarcely able to believe what he was doing he reached down between the two torsos and took Justin's cock in his hand, bending his head towards it. Hot and smooth and hard yet silky in his palm. If t'was to be done t'were best done right. "How do you like me to do it?"

Justin stared at him in surprise. "You gonna....sure....okay, like this." Clasping his circumsized cock in his own hand around lower head and shaft he showed the boy then taking the boy's hand closed it around the cock beneath him and moved both hands up and down. The boy got the hang of it quickly, rubbing the shaft while his tongue played around the swollen head. "Hold it a bit tighter, yeah, that's it."

Sensitively he stroked, and licked,  and observed Justin's response and swiftly figured how to please him, take him high so his eyes closed, body tensed, close to climax, then keep him close to the top so his face scrunched up in ecstatic yearning to go over. It wasn't so bad, kinda fun. It went on for just moments before Justin suddenly brushed the hand away and thrust his swollen cock further into Iain's mouth, spurting exposively  thick and white.