I had an important, but hectic business trip scheduled in Köln in the middle of November. Normally, the corporate travel department flies me out on a Saturday and back the following Saturday. When I got the tickets, I was scheduled for my normal Saturday departure, but my return was a full ten (10) days later. I wasn’t all that happy about the schedule, but with air travel these days, you take what you can get. As I left the office, my supervisor gave me an envelope with a spa reservation. He said all my hard work deserved some recognition. I was appreciate, but ambivalent about the spa idea.
The trip didn’t start out well. I was late arriving at EWR and missed my connection to AMS. I got alternate routing through FRA, more difficult and much delayed. When I got to Köln. I discovered my bags were in AMS. Somehow, the bags made the connection.
On arrival, I was hungry, smelly and tired. The hungry part was easy enough to handle, a couple of Kölsch and a local dish. The smelly part was a little more trouble. Fortunately, the hotel had nice toiletries and plush robes. Sleep came easily after a shower.
I stayed at a hotel near the Hauptbahnhof and the meetings were within walking distance, across the Rhein, at the Messe. The meetings were difficult, but productive. All of the Germans spoke English, but the Italians and Spaniards spoke only their native languages and German. So, German was our common language. I had to listen carefully and speak haltingly. We had rich, lavish lunches and boozy dinners which went well into the night. I only made it to the fitness center a couple of times. I was getting sluggish and felt bloated. But, everything was successful, and I almost forgot to check out on Friday morning. We adjourned after lunch on Friday, and a car was waiting to take me out the Autobahn towards Aachen.
After about an 1½ hours we pulled into a dreary, gray estate. I handed a very efficient receptionist my documents. He told me my room number and said my baggage, which had caught up with me on Tuesday, would await me. Then he paged Karl, who wanted to waste no time starting me on my regimen. Karl handed me a robe and told me to undress, that we were going to do an assessment. He left for a few moments. He then asked me to remove my robe, tsk’d, tsk’d me for keeping my boxers on and had me remove them. The assessment was the normal sort of thing, blood pressure and heartbeat readings, weight, body fat measurements, a bit of unabashed probing and squeezing and some questions regarding medications, aches and pains.
Then Karl led me down the hallway to Hans who was wearing only a European style bathing suit. In any culture, Hans would be described as eye candy. Tall, blonde, carrying a nice package. Hans had me disrobe and do a quick rinse with a hand-held shower in the corner. He then said I was on the accelerated treatment, and we were going to do a colonic. He directed me to a table and asked me to lay down on my stomach. He proceeded to generously lube me, around and inside my ass. He then asked me to turn on my side, and he inserted a tube. Warm water filled me, and I was soon very uncomfortable. Hans coached and cajoled me to hold far longer than I wanted, rubbing my back and my ass. Finally, he let me set up, removed a portion of the table and the tube and told me to let go. At first, I couldn’t, then a torrent was unleashed into a large drain on the floor below. Hans then rinsed me and himself and the table and floor off. He pulled of his bathing suit and rinsed himself more thoroughly, dried me and dried himself.
Hans told me to lay on my back again, and he massaged my stomach, forcefully, to get out any trapped air. Needless to say, I farted like a pony. After a bit, I had developed a raging hard-on. Hard to avoid when a good looking guy is leaning over you, nuzzling his cock against your scalp and rubbing you down to your pubes. Hans said, “Let’s take care of that so we can complete our treatment.” He reached down and gave me a very clinical hand job, ending to everyone’s satisfaction. I was much more relaxed.
We then completed two more fill and empty cycles before I was running sufficiently clean.
Hans rinsed me off a last time, wrapped a towel around himself and one around me, and led me into a large room with a communal tub and small alcoves. In the alcoves, men were setting on wooden stools and being washed with towels, sponges and brushes. Jacob, a Nordic god-like figure, came over and introduced himself. He asked me to remove my towel. He removed his and doused me with a couple of buckets of warm water. He washed my upper torso, doused me, then turned to my midsection. He asked me to stand, and turned his attention to my crotch, soaping it up liberally. Spending some quality time on my dick and my sac. Then he asked me to lean over the stool. When I did, he spread my legs apart and spent time washing my ass, around it and in it. He then inserted a narrow warm, wet sponge, twisted it, pulled it out, and I was in even. Better still, however was when I set back down, he raised my left leg, placed my feet in his crotch and washed both thoroughly. The rubbing felt great, as did the bottom of my foot resting on his dick. After Jacob finished with my left leg, he asked, “You probably need to pee.” I did. He bought over an odd contraption. Picked up my dick and inserted it, and simply said, “Pee.” When I was finished, he removed the contraption, wiped me off, and began with the right leg. It all ended too soon.
Jacob then sent me to the communal tub. I spoke casually with a couple of other guys, sipped some sparkling water and relaxed. After everyone had soaked for a while, we each had an attendant to dry us and lead us to a room filled with massage tables. Knowing what usually happens when I get a massage, I wasn’t too comfortable. When my attendant, Kirk, clad in a black thong-like device came over, he did some quick touching and relaxed me. Across the room, everyone was on his stomach and soon moaning began. Loud, continuous moaning. Kirk turned my neck and shoulders into mush quickly. I was almost asleep. I think I did actually fall asleep as he worked on my back and arms. Then, Kirk began working on my legs, from my calves, upward, and he wasted no time in getting to my inner thighs, and he showed none of the typical masseur wariness in brushing against my sac and probing the area around my ass. In fact, he even asked me to rise up a bit, and he repositioned my dick for me in a more comfortable fashion. I was well awake by then. Before he asked me to turn over, Kirk treated me to some deep finger probing which sent me writhing on the table. Kirk then asked me to turn over. He had worked up quite a sweat. He toweled off, handed me a bottle of water and took one for himself. After a bit, Kirk put his water down. Grabbed my bottle and set it down and took off his thong. I was surprised to find him semi-erect, and I was awed by the sheer beauty of his genitals. A long, thin, cut cock, curving off to the right, a tight, heavy sac, hanging low and not a wisp of a hair. Kirk began working on my head and forehead, his dick tantalizingly close, then he leaned over me and raised himself a bit, both to offer his dick to me and to begin working on my chest and nipples. I accepted his offer. After having moved down to my crotch and worked for a while, he pulled out, erect but unspent and moved down to the end of the table. I expected some work on my legs. Instead, Kirk pulled me down to the table’s edge, separated and raised my legs and soon entered me, slowly, gently. I was pleasantly surprised, but a bit concerned about the others. When I looked around, everyone was sucking, being sucked, fucking or being fucked. It was only then that I began to hear the distinctive, wonderful sounds of male sex all around me.
Kirk bought himself to climax with simple in and out motions. He never pounded as I was accustomed to. By the time Kirk came inside me, I was erect and ready to come. Kirk simply rested
his head on me and let me do the work. I
came all over his face. Kirk then cleaned me up, helped me on with my robe and led me to a large room where a healthy, but lavish buffet dinner was laid out. All finger foods, with bottles of sparkling water. The other men and I nibbled, sipped and mingled. Sooner than I had imagined, it was time for bed.
The massages and the mingling had the effect of making us all interested in other guests, and I paired off with a Belgian who invited himself to my room. The room was very nice, with a plush bed and pillows and an assortment of toys laid out on the dresser. We looked and handled with amusement. The Belgian even persuaded me to let him lie over my lap and spank him with a paddle. But, we were both tired from a splendid evening, and we soon crawled into bed and held each other during the night.
Early to bed, early to rise, and the Belgian was ready for a vigorous spanking, and was eager to play with some plugs and my ass. A ball plug had its intended effect, and I came all over the bed, the Belgian and myself. The Belgian simply asked that I lay on the bed. He knelt over me, spreading his legs on each of my thighs and began stroking himself, very proficiently. In Junior High, we would have called him Master Bates. I saw him harden, tense and felt him squeezing my thighs as he attempted to achieve the impossible, pulling his legs together. He came on my chest. Vast quantities, thick and ropey, ivory colored. He then licked it all off of me. It was time to clean up and begin a new day.
What a day!