The Backpackers 1 – Lessons

The author kindly advises that this story is not entirely fictitious. It contains descriptions of exhibitionist hardcore sex and is not suitable for persons under 18 years old.

The Backpackers 1 – Lessons

(A Thai woman teaches two Swedish teenagers the pleasures of exhibitionist sex in front of an audience.)

Fjällgatan, Stigberget. Early Sunday morning. I sit on my bike in my blue Lycra, out of breath, sweaty, as I lean on the fence alongside the elevated road. I look out over the panorama in front of me. A light milky haze is hanging over the water, slightly obscuring the city skyline. I see the shadow of a vessel on the still water in the distance. Light fluffy cotton clouds slowly drift overhead. Patches of sunlight gradually break through, creating small spotlights in the landscape. It’s the start of September. Just one month to go before summer ends. Winter, and shivering hibernation, with all its gloom and darkness, will then be upon us.

My name is Alea Asplund and next to me is my boyfriend, Peter Sundahl.

“Välkommen till min hemstad Stockholm.”
(Welcome to my hometown Stockholm).

You’ve caught us at our favorite spot. We’re here a few times a week. Just hanging around, taking in the view, a short break from our regular early morning cycle tour. My boyfriend Peter and I are fit, sporty and fun people; we cycle, we run, we swim, we go to the sauna. All easy pursuits in a compact city like this.

This is Fjällgatan, on the ridge of Stigberget. A famous lookout point. You can see the whole of Stockholm from this elevated street. My stretched out arm sweeps through the landscape. Over there, across the channel, is the Grand Hotel with the white steamboats in front of it. I point towards the Kastellholmen fortress and to the right past the Gröna Lund amusement Park…

Wonderful view, but back to me, and Peter. We’re students on a gap year from our gymnasieskola (high school). We’re both almost nineteen, slim, slightly tanned but not very tall, only average height. Most of the time we wear tight faded hipster jeans and short, fitted, print t-shirts that give just a sexy glimpse of our tight midriffs. We have similar short blond freestyle haircuts. I know, it’s a chaotic style; it looks like bed hair… but its very trendy, very ‘now’, and easy maintenance. Oh, and a sort of boy-girl thing. We both try to connect even more by adopting the same style…

Those morning bike rides are great fun. However, soon things will drastically change for us.

In a few days we will be at Stockholm Airport, boarding our plane bound for Sydney Australia. The beginning of a yearlong, once-in-a-lifetime world trip. While leaning on the fence here, enjoying the crisp morning air and startling vistas, I wanted to tell you about our sudden transformation. A month ago my boyfriend and I were average teenagers pondering a serious money problem.

Now we’re exhibitionist performers with very few inhibitions.

How did it start? We both come from well-off families. My dad, Michael Asplund, is a well-known investment banker and Peter’s father has an IT firm, Sundahl Technology, in Stockholm’s Kista district. A while ago we came up with the idea of taking a gap year for a long holiday. Our parents however were only willing to pay for our round-the-world tickets. They mentioned something about ‘teaching the value of money’. Anyway, we would have to find a way to earn our own living expenses. We thought about café-work or cleaning. We were pondering our options for weeks until…

A meeting with two Thai business people, notably Angie Wattana, changed everything.

Peter’s father, Torsten Sundahl, had a long running service contract with a Thai company. Something technical about servers and encryptions. The Thai CEO, Uan Wattana, and his wife Angie were visiting Stockholm for business. They would be here for two weeks. The CEO would meet Sundahl executives and travel to other Swedish cities while Mrs. Wattana would stay at their suite at the Grand Hotel in Stockholm. Mr. Sundahl asked us to entertain her, to keep her busy, show her the city, while he would take care of business with her husband.

It was on a Friday morning two weeks ago. Me, Peter, his father Torsten and mother Annelind Sundahl were at the airport to greet the arriving Thai couple. We checked the Airport’s notice boards to find out the jet’s arrival time from Dubai. We watched from the viewing deck as the A380 touched down. The baggage area in the arrival hall soon flooded with passengers looking for their luggage on the carousels.

Peter’s father held up a sign with Thai names and eventually two people separated themselves from the crowd. They were a peculiar couple. He was a big overweight man in a dark blue pinstriped suit. He had thick black hair and a puffy face with big lips. Heavy gold rings decorated his thick hairy fingers. Out-of-breath and profusely sweating, he loaded their suitcases onto a trolley. She was the opposite. Slim, sexy and elegant, with shoulder-length black curls, Angie Wattana’s face had a distinct masculine jaw line. Her flashy smile and vibrant, confident personality made an instant impression. In contrast to her husband’s poor English she spoke the language perfectly. She especially took her time to meet Peter and me. Our handshakes lingered much longer than usual, as our eyes met. The instant connection between us was glaringly obvious. I became aware that she studied our appearances. It must have been unusual for her to meet people like us… Europeans with lightly tanned skin and piercing blue eyes, wearing sexy, tight, faded, hipster jeans. And then our almost white, short hairstyle… I however spotted something else in the way she looked at us. She saw some kind of use, talent or potential in Peter and me.

Only weeks later, in hindsight, did I realize what that slightly brooding look in her eyes had been about. What she saw in us, what went through her mind in those first minutes after we met.

Torsten Sundahl and his wife Annelind would have been shocked and disgusted if they would have know what Angie wanted to do with their precious son Peter and his proper girlfriend Alea Asplund.

The next morning Peter and I met Angie Wattana at her hotel while her husband had left for meetings at Sundahl Technology headquarters. After a bout of sightseeing we caught our breath and enjoyed our ‘Fika’ (coffee and pastries) at one of the trendy cafés in Gamla Stan, Stockholm’s old city. It was a large old club-style café, dimly lit with intimate booths and dark leather benches. Only a few patrons occupied the large café space. Angie, who sat in the corner of our L-shaped booth, benignly smiled while stirring her latte. “You know,” she said, “I would like to thank you for showing me around Stockholm. It’s much easier to do this with locals then having to discover it all by oneself. And I would like to apologize for ‘studying’ you two yesterday at the airport. It’s not everyday that a Thai person meets Swedes like you two. The blond hair, those blue eyes, …it’s quite startling and different…” We both just smiled politely. “Are you both on holidays, or do you still study?” she asked. “Well,” I replied while choosing a small piece of cake from the pastry plate; “Peter and I have both taken a gap year. While we’re still young we have decided to travel the world. We have our round-the-world tickets but don’t know yet how we will meet our living expenses in the countries and cities that we will visit…”

“Hmm, that’s a problem. An interesting problem though…” I picked up Angie’s mysterious expression as she made the comment while taking a sip from her coffee. She put down her glass and slowly turned to us with a faint smile; “Is it true that eh, well, that Swedes are as… broadminded… as their reputation suggests?” I looked at Peter as we both shyly smirked; “Well, maybe, depends I guess,” I vaguely said in a very weak response. “Why do you ask?” “You see,” Angie clarified; “My husband and I are familiar with the top of Thai society. We go to… very… exclusive parties, gatherings that are… discreet… and quite different… to say the least. It’s how the elite amuses, entertains itself…”

“Could I maybe move over, place myself in between you two?”

“Sure,” I said, while Peter moved from behind the table to make way. Angie slotted herself neatly in between us. “You see; people that look like you two are a rarity in Asia and the Subcontinent. Most Asians only know of what people here look like from hearsay. I know Thais who would like to see people like you two up close… I mean… see everything… really… up close…” I noticed how Angie’s hands rested on both our legs and slowly moved up. “Eh, your hands, Angie…” I said softly and somewhat halfheartedly, as I watched them creep up down the inside of our thighs. She just smiled as we all looked down, following her long elegant fingers. “Hmmm, just relax Alea. You too Peter. Just watch what happens…”

Nervously I looked around, as I felt her hand sliding further up, closer to my private region. I felt my heart pounding. My breathing became more irregular. I tried to stop her hand, I desperately tried to squeeze my legs closer together but I couldn’t. Instead they got a life of their own and opened up wider to accommodate Angie’s indecent touching. I looked in Peter’s direction, shocked. I saw his flushed face, his half-closed eyes and spotted the bulge underneath his jeans. Angie was aroused and bit her lip as her hand slid sideways, up and down, squeezing the contours of his long hard shaft.

I looked down the room and suddenly spotted a lone older patron a bit further away, sitting on his own, enjoying his beer. He had caught up with what Angie was doing and watched us being groped from a distance. “Stop Angie, stop...” I whispered, slightly panicky, grabbing her wrist. “Someone over there is watching us…” She turned to me and smiled; “I know Alea, I know, I saw him… don’t worry, let him watch, let him enjoy the view. Open your legs a bit further for him…” I stared at her and him, shocked, confused, aroused. I tried to stop myself from sliding down the bench as my legs gradually spread themselves wider. I looked down and followed Angie’s fingers. Delicately they pried open my jeans’ button and slowly pulled down the zipper.

The man watched closely as her hand slid inside, finding its way underneath my panties. I gasped, I looked at him for a second. I sighed and closed my eyes. My body slightly jumped as I felt her fingers rasping my clit, then slowly running down the inside edges of my soft labia. I glanced into Angie’s mesmerizing eyes while I heard Peter’s incoherent breathing. She clearly loved what she was doing and continued groping him too. I could hardly think straight anymore. What kind of an irresistible woman was this? Why did she do this? What did she want from us? I knew I had to somehow stop her. Imagine we would get caught, humiliated with our pants open, thrown out… Finally Angie’s menacing fingers retreated. “Button up your jeans, Alea,” her voice whispered… no… breathed, close to my ear; “I think you two would be… very… talented, when it comes to performing, eh, how shall I describe it… exhibitionist sex…”

“Exhibitionist sex?”

My mouth fell open as I stared at her with wide-open eyes. What… what was she for heavens sake on about, where was this going?

“Hmmm, you know, Alea,” she continued; “Many people in Asia would pay a lot of money to watch you two. To see… everything… of you and your boyfriend.” Angie’s fingers slowly turned my confused, flushed face towards her; “I mean… everything, girl. Easy money for a …very …pleasurable …time. I could teach you both, …I could turn you two into what I call …performers…” There was silence as Peter and I tried to absorb this extremely indecent proposal.

“Please, do think it over and eh, call me …tomorrow afternoon.”

She took her purse and carefully squeezed past Peter from behind the table. We saw her slowly leaving the cafe, closing the door behind her, disappearing out of sight down the street. We were left behind in disarray… confused, disheveled,


That night we had the hottest sex ever. She had sparked something in us, something we didn’t experience before and were eager to explore. We talked about her idea for most of the night and nervously decided we had to see Angie again to find out where she would lead us. The next day around 3pm I called her mobile. “Angie, is this you? Yes, hello, it’s Alea Asplund here. What? Sure… the lobby of your hotel, in half-an-hour. Yes, we’ll be there. See you.” It was an overcast Wednesday afternoon in busy downtown Stockholm. Around 3.30pm the Grand Hotel doorman noticed two average height teenagers entering the stylish lobby. He checked out their tight t-shirts and chaotic blond hair. As they walked past his eyes wandered down to their sexy washed jeans. “Hmmm, the blessings of youth,” he mumbled. He saw the two meet up with an elegant dark-skinned woman. All three disappeared into the elevator. A liftboy pressed the 8th floor button from the outside and the sliding doors closed.

Angie slowly turned around; “I, …I guess, from you two being here, that my …shall we say …proposition …intrigued you?” I just nodded and lowered my eyes. What could we both say? That Peter and I were aroused by her indecent proposal? That we were somehow inexplicably drawn to the idea of exhibitionist sex? In the silence of the traveling elevator I struggled to find the words; “I… eh …we …we were thinking. …We both are nervous, unsure …but curious where this might take us…” Angie just smiled and turned around as the doors opened. We silently went down a wide corridor with plush dark burgundy carpet, white walls and high ceilings. The carpet extended into Angie’s suite. Floor-to-ceiling sheer curtains covered the high windows of the lounge room. Most of the modern furniture was made of light Scandinavian birch timber, upholstered with off-white fabrics. The king-size bed in the master bedroom was covered with luxurious grey-and-white bed linen and a dozen or so pillows in various sizes.

“Remember the airport?” Angie mused, while handing us two glasses of red wine; “I knew straight away that you two had the ‘qualities’ to be the perfect…eh…” She didn’t finish her sentence as her hand slowly ran down Peter’s chest. I locked eyes with him. I saw how he enjoyed her attention as I craved some of it myself. Angie showed her lack of inhibitions as she grabbed him through his jeans blatantly in his crotch. She then turned to me. I followed her hand, squeezing my flat breasts through my t-shirt. “Hmmm,” she sighed; “Lovely bodies. You two will be great for what I have in mind. Just perfect…”

“Why don’t you two take your clothes off and get into the bedroom…”

We both looked at her and blushed. Her demand hardly surprised us but we needed a moment to come to terms with it. Peter and I had already talked about it the night before and imagined what it would be like, those seedy peepshows. People who would masturbate, while perving on our most private parts. Men and couples who’d get off watching our frenzied fucking. It turned us on; the thought aroused us both and left us breathless. We imagined these filthy places where we, Alea Asplund and Peter Sundahl, would end up stark naked, performing lurid sex acts.

We both stared at Angie as we simultaneously peeled off our t-shirts. She felt our sexual tension as we slowly unbuckled our belts, pulled down our zippers and slid off our tight jeans. I looked at her as I unclipped my black bra and slipped off my tiny panties. I looked at Peter.

We were both stark naked before her.

I slowly turned around, showing her different angles of my naked body. Barefoot on the plush carpet, I moved towards the windows with its long sheer curtains. I glanced at her over my shoulder. It so excited me, displaying myself naked in front of this strange Asian woman. I kept on gazing at her as I squeezed my flat hard breasts and slightly opened my legs. I followed her eyes, traveling down my body, as she ogled my glistening vagina and my short white pubic hair. I looked at Peter’s aroused eyes, at his massive erection swaying heavily between his slim legs. He slowly turned, showing the woman his beautiful long hard cock at different angles. I slowly went barefoot and stark naked towards the bedroom. I felt her eyes on my back, ogling my small moving buttocks. I mounted the bed and glanced over my shoulder. I saw Angie fingers gently caress Peter’s long throbbing cock. He had his legs slightly apart and gently rocked his hips forward as he craved the soft touch of her long fingers on his aching flesh.

On all fours on the luxury bed linen amidst the many crisp pillows, I spread my knees wide and bend my back towards them. I glanced through the door at the Asian woman; she looked at me from the lounge room, her eyes fixated on my small buttocks and the open space between my legs. I pushed up my arse even more when I sensed her behind me. I raised my head and sighed. When she touched me, my body slightly jolted. I felt her fingers sliding down between my arse cheeks, circling my anal button. I shook and trembled. I showed her how willing and ready I was by spreading my knees even further. I felt her flat hand sliding in between my legs, cupping my pubes and sensitive genitals. I slowly rocked my hips, my crotch grinding on her hand, as I felt her fingers sliding up and down on the inside of my twitching vagina. By now my highly erratic breath and shaking flesh betrayed my desperation. I slowly turned around, gazed at her and, in front of her, opened my legs wide. Showing Angie my throbbing slit amidst my blond growth, I was impatient for the exhibitionist fucking to begin.

Weeks later I still vividly remembered that Wednesday afternoon in Angie’s suite. Stark naked, we anxiously waited for her directions. We imagined how the bed would slowly turn. How I could give the audience a close-up view between my legs, of my pubic hair and opening vagina. She was coaching and ogling me as I spread myself wide and mounted Peter’s cock, right in front of her. I leaned backwards on my stretched out arms. I bend my lean midriff. I panted and moaned of sheer delight. I so enjoyed feeling Peter’s cock sliding in between my throbbing labia. Angie looked mesmerized at the raw action between my legs. She saw how liquid dripped from the swollen red edges as Peter’s long hard meat jammed into me. “Angie, look at me, look how I’m going to cum right in front of you.” I wanted her to look at my stressed face when my orgasm hit. I grimaced as my body suddenly seized up and stiffened. “Oh my god, I panted; Oh god, Angie, I’m coming……fuck!”

I closed my eyes in ecstasy as I begged her to m***** me. I bend my back and pushed up my chest. I felt her flat hand groping me between my legs, indiscriminately squeezing and pinching my body, smearing my hot juices all over me.

I was exhausted and ready for a break, but the Asian woman wouldn’t let us. She told us to change position quickly and directed our body angles. We learned about always keeping our legs wide open and that an orgasm was no reason to stop. During the next few hours we fucked in the most spectacular positions. We took eventually a break in the lounge. We drank wine, naked and sore. We lubed up, and heard from Angie how to best use stimulants like Viagra, Ecstasy and other aphrodisiacs to keep up the frantic fuck pace required in peepshow rooms. She told us that our neatly trimmed, almost white, pubic hair was a major asset. People would love the look of it. We shouldn’t wear underwear to avoid marks and limit eating solids two days before a performance. We spent another few hours practicing positions and tried to entice Angie onto the bed, but to no avail. She told us ‘maybe later’; that ‘now was not the time’.

It was late that evening when Peter and I left the elevator and slowly sauntered through the Grand Hotel lobby towards the exit. Sore and exhausted, we moved very slowly after hours of intense mating. Angie had given Peter a Viagra tablet of her older husband. According to her he would need it for our next lesson on Friday. That night we both nursed our genitals with lube and ice packs, squeezed between our legs. We had agreed to a request from Angie to take her to a sauna or bathhouse on Friday afternoon. She wanted an older facility with many different steam rooms. We gave her the address of one we knew that was suitable for whatever she had in mind for us. She sent us an approving text message on Thursday. Apparently she had been there to check it out. We agreed to meet her at the bathhouse at 3pm.

That Friday we received a text from her, telling us to look for steam room 16. As we entered the sauna’s changing rooms we noticed how old and decrepit the facilities were. Broken yellow and brown tiles, old plumbing, painted over. We both slowly kicked off our trainers and took off our t-shirts and jeans. Neither of us was wearing underwear anymore. We read the arousal in each other’s eyes as we lubed each other up. Peter swallowed his Viagra tablet before we left the changing rooms. Wearing our white robes, we slowly went past the tired looking swimming pool with its grime and broken tiles and cheap plastic chairs. The low entry fees meant this bathhouse was a favorite of retired pensioners. We saw them hanging around the pool in groups, wearing robes or covering their modesty in white towels. Most men were grey-haired, bald and overweight. We paused for a moment as we looked at each other.

Suddenly we realized why Angie had chosen this location. She deliberately wanted us to perform in this run-down place covered in filth and grime. We were suppose to expose ourselves to those old rough men in front of us, lounging by the pool.

Barefoot, wearing robes, we went further down the tiled hallway with its cold harsh lights, looking for steam room 16. We eventually found our number, opened the door and stepped inside. The humid room was around 4.5 meters wide and 8 meters long. Along all the walls ladder-style, worn-out timber benches, around 80cm deep were on two stacked levels. We recognized Angie in her white robe a few meters from the door on one of the long walls. We glanced at her as we slowly went past. Two grey-haired older couples in white towels had found refuge here from the groups of old men around the swimming pool. They poured some water on hot rocks, creating additional rising steam.

We slowly went to the empty space at the back of the room. We looked behind us towards the door with its small glass window. I felt nervous with a pit in my stomach, but highly aroused. I didn’t have to ask Angie. I knew this was the moment. Our first real exhibitionist experience in front of total strangers. I looked at Peter. His Viagra induced erection underneath his robe turned me on even more. I trembled, my heart pounded, I felt feverish as I slowly went back down the middle towards the two older couples. They were sitting halfway down the long wall on each side. Our eyes met. They smiled benignly. I realized they were old enough to be my grandparents. That sudden thought turned me on even more.

“My …eh, my friend over there and I, we …eh …we would like to show you something,” I said to them with a blushing face and breathless voice. “Enjoy, enjoy…” I sighed and stared at them. I hesitated for a moment. My heart pounded, I felt breathless. A rush of adrenaline surged through me. I was aroused. I squeezed my legs, and felt my vagina, stirring impatiently, aching, ready for its audience.

I gazed into their eyes and gasped. I slowly opened up my robe and exposed myself to them, …stark naked.

“Oh my God, look at her,” I heard one of them whisper as my robe fell to the floor; “She’s totally nude and young enough to be our grand daughter…” I felt their eyes burning on my naked skin as I slightly opened my legs. I saw them ogle my genitals, mesmerized, as I slowly turned around, showing off my small buttocks. I put a foot on the lower bench right next to them and bend myself backwards. I stared at them as they followed my fingers, slowly traveling down my midriff in between my legs, sliding into my vagina. I opened my legs more. I kept eye contact with the two couples. Their shocked look turned me on even more, as I started to finger myself in front of them. I felt out of breath, I moaned softly as I tried to soothe my twitching labia. I gradually moved towards the back. I mounted the top bench and leaned backwards, opening myself up, exposing my hot teenage vagina to them. “Look at me,” I hoarsely whispered; “look at what I’ve got between my legs…” I stared at the four strangers. I felt their eyes staring at my opening red slit. I arched my slim body and slid my fingers up and down on the inside of my pink labia, right in front of them. The humid air of the quiet steam room was filled with my moans and erratic breathing.

As in a haze I glimpsed behind me. Peter, at the back, was also by now stark naked, sprawled over the top bench. I saw the two couples stare at him in shock. They saw this naked young man with his short white hair. With his legs wide open, he lifted his midriff and vertically masturbated his raging hard long cock. We all heard his desperate breathing, his incessant moaning.

I fingered my hungry slit in a wild frenzy, as I glanced at him, frantically rubbing his red meat. I realized the Viagra had started to kick in and drove him insane.

“You look beautiful, girl. Yeah, finger yourself, show us your teenage pussy…” I had thrown my head back as I heard the soft voice of one of the old men. I looked up, startled. I felt strange fingers touching my swollen vagina. “No, I protested softly, no, no, just look, please don’t… don’t touch…” The fingers went away. “I think you should go to the back now… and show us how you …eh …fuck,” I heard the old man’s whispered voice before he moved away. Naked, I slowly crawled over the bench towards Peter. I looked behind me at the old people ogling my elegantly moving cheeks. I reached out and gently stroked Peter’s long cock. “Oh, yeah… Alea, oh, I need your mouth baby…” My touch made his voice and body tremble. I glimpsed behind me before I slid my wet lips over his throbbing dickhead. I positioned myself to the side with one knee on the top bench and the other one on the lower level. From behind my crotch was wide open. Everyone had an excellent view of my gaping slit and anal button between my buttocks. They saw Peter’s hard cock sliding up and down between my sucking lips. He raised his midriff, frantically shoving his pole vertically in and out. I heard a murmur of approval from behind me.

“Hmm, yeah… suck his cock, you horny girl…” That whispered comment encouraged me. I was bending my back even more. I moved my knee further up the high bench. In between bushes of blond pubes, everyone stared at my gaping slit. They could almost see the froth, coating the edges. I was so ready to come, but I wanted to wait for the right moment.

I didn’t know that a face had popped up behind the door’s window.

An old man was watching two naked teenagers with short white hair from behind the door, performing at the back. He quickly disappeared and word slowly spread amongst the old men around the pool. Rumors about a young naked couple, exposing themselves. About a peepshow, about exhibitionist fucking in steam room 16. Slowly, the old men started to leave the pool. Wearing their towels, they wandered discreetly down the hallway, looking for the right room number.

Unaware of all this, I had positioned myself half on the top bench and, facing our audience, mounted Peter’s raging hard cock. Those in the room saw how his pulsating dickhead teasingly slid up and down over my slit as it finally slowly pushed in. My throbbing labia tightly clamped around the veins of his hard sensitive meat, sliding deeper into me. I leaned backwards on my stretched out arms and spread my legs impossibly wide. I looked around the humid, steam-filled room and moaned loudly as my lean body started to contort wildly on his glistening hard cock. I heard Peter’s desperate breathing. The Viagra-induced sex chemicals had utterly saturated his brain. He moaned as he frantically jammed his hot cock into me, rubbing his pulsating meat against my soft inner walls. The spectators watched my small breasts and towering hard nipples bounce up and down. I so loved exhibiting myself like this; “Oh God, yeah, beautiful. Look at me, watch me, watch me fuck,” I whispered as I for a moment closed my eyes in utter delight. In the ensuing carnal frenzy, streams of sweat ran down my lean midriff, dripping off my slim legs and pubic hair.

I breathlessly wanted to show those strangers more, much more. More of my blond pubes; more of the froth on my swollen labia; more of my pulsating red body hole, gripping Peter’s raging hard cock. My panting face was bright red. I felt his hot dickhead, wildly prodding deep inside of me. Suddenly I felt something rising from between my legs, up my midriff. “Oh fuck yeah, there it comes…” I sighed. My orgasm was about to hit. I stared at the two couples. I gazed at the old men’s raging erections under their towels. I saw one of them removing his modesty. I saw him stiffen up and gasp. His hips pushed forward as he violently shot his sperm. “Oh God,” I murmured; “This is so horny …such a hot dream… I’m going come right in front of these total strangers.” My incessant breathing got louder. It filled the silent room. They watched my naked throbbing body seized up. I shuddered. I slowly lifted myself off Peter’s cock and rolled my eyes, as liquid shot out of my twitching hole, running down his long shaft.

I hadn’t noticed that a growing group of old men, attracted by the rumors, had looked through the door’s window and then entered the room. They initially sat down and watched our hot fucking, then moved closer and dropped their towels. As I changed position I became aware of the amount of people around us and saw several old men masturbating only meters away.

From near the door, people saw, over the heads of others, this rumored naked young couple at the back on the highest bench, fucking wildly in front of all these old coarse men, amidst the rising steam. Angie heard some of them whispering; “Who are they, …are they exhibitionists? Hot teenagers probably… look at their short white hair… gosh, see how red she is between her legs?”

I was still weak from my first orgasm. I briefly glimpsed at all these strangers. I immediately turned around and went on all fours on the top bench. We were at eye-level, almost above the crowd. I spread my knees very wide, tilting and opening up my small hard bottom. I glanced over my shoulder. I saw all these naked, strange old men staring, perving. I saw the arousal in their eyes. I used my hand to pull apart my cheeks even further, exposing my gaping wet genitals and anal button to the scruffy men, who were massaging their aching cocks.

“Yeah, gosh, love your naked arse, baby…” I heard someone breathlessly grunt.

Peter also spread his legs and slowly positioned himself above me. An approving murmur went through the crowd as everyone watched how his cockhead gradually f***ed it's way vertically down, past my tight brown sphincter into my deep dark arsehole. I could feel the tightness of my red anal ring gripping his hard shaft. Oh my fucking god,” I gasped. I felt my inner colon muscles quiver around his throbbing head. He stopped for a moment to let me get used to his pulsating long meat. My anal canal slowly adjusted. A hush descended over the crowd as his hard shaft plunged deeper inside me. I trembled and threw my head back, moaning and gasping for air.

“Yeah, fuck that filthy young girl, fuck her hole till she screams…”

“Yeaaah...” I heard the perving old men grunt as they approved our peepshow. They egged Peter on to bury his long cock balls-deep into me. Slowly he started to pump his hard meat in and out of my arsehole, at times pressing his balls against my anus. Some of the wanking men at the front could almost smell the froth on my open vagina. Our faces were red. We were drenched in sweat, dripping down into our grinding crotches.

Peter’s pace got frenetic. Suddenly his buttocks started to clench together. The crowd saw how he trembled. They knew his orgasm was about to hit. Boiling sperm has started to travel down his throbbing shaft. He arced his back and whimpered with his eyes closed. He grabbed my short hair from behind and pulled my head backwards. I bend my back and pushed my arse up as he latched on tighter. His pulsating dickhead stirred deep inside my bowels. “Oh Alea,” he whimpered, “Oh fuck, I’m soo gonna cum…!” The crowd looked at Peter’s face. They stared at his clenched arse, how it shuddered. His sperm exploded into my dark quivering anal canal. “Oh God, fuck me, please fuck me,” I begged breathlessly as I felt the hot liquid blasting deep down into me, coating my insides. Peter’s cock slowly pulled out, still shooting little spurts of milky semen. The old men at the front saw it running down between my arse cheeks, dripping off my sore labia.

Something suddenly unsettled me.

A strange hand grabbed me between my legs, cupping my pubic hair and sensitive genitals. Two strange thick hairy fingers slid into my open, dark, pulsating anus. My sweat-covered body slightly trembled as I felt cold rings brushing my hot throbbing flesh. Unsettled, I glanced behind me. The crowd stared at me, silently, as one of the old men couldn’t help himself and m*****ed the throbbing space between my legs. I stared at all their prying eyes. They knew this was wrong but waited for my response. “Oh God… no,” I whispered, gently brushing his fingers away. “No, please; no touching… please, just look at us. Look at how we fuck in front of all of you.” The crowd stared at my eyes and saw how desperately horny I was. “Enjoy, enjoy…,” I breathed.

The Viagra made Peter’s cock stay rock hard. He went down on his back on the top bench again and opened his legs wide. He was moaning loudly. His cock was thicker then ever and the Viagra-induced throbbing almost made him go mad. I quickly positioned myself above him, and leaned backwards. I opened my legs wide and slightly moved my midriff. I panted with my mouth open as I gazed at all these strangers. A silence had come over the steam-filled room. All these old scruffy men, perving, incessantly staring, most of them naked, wanking furiously. Their eyes focused on Peter’s hard cock, resting between my legs… They followed his red dickhead, sliding teasingly slow up and down in between my red labia.

The crowd murmured. They enjoyed ogling my teenage flesh as I impaled myself agonizingly slow. I started to ride his sliding meat, first very slow, then faster and faster. It didn’t take long for me to come again. I felt it suddenly rushing up from deep down. The sex chemicals numbed my brain. “Oh, fucking hell, watch me come again. Oh fuck!” Everyone in steam room 16 saw my wild eyes, how I gasped as my straining naked body thrashed around. It quivered uncontrollably with Peter’s cock still halfway inside. I squeezed my eyes and panted as I tried to regain control over my throbbing genitals. Gradually I lifted my tired flesh off his wet hard meat, while my naked body still jerked and trembled.

Peter and I were sore and exhausted as we slowly left the bench and tried to make our way through the crowd towards the door. Some of Peter’s sperm ran out of my anus, down my legs. There was some muted applause as we, naked and barefoot, tried to find our way out. Some men couldn’t help themselves and groped my sweaty, still glowing flesh. I knew I was just a body to them as I felt hands groping my small hard breasts, running down my midriff in between my legs, touching my sore vagina. Some tried to grope me between my small buttocks.

I stared at one of them as he unashamedly grabbed and squeezed my flat chest and pinching my towering nipples. He was lecherous, scruffy, and old enough to be my grandfather. I slowed down and followed his groping hand. It rapidly ran down my hard midriff. He grinned as he grabbed between my legs. We looked at each other with intent. He saw my horny gasp as I felt how he touched up my genitals. His thick rough fingers hooked into my open slit. His thumb rubbed my jumping clit. For a second my body shook and trembled. But I knew this was wrong, that I had to get away. I quickly lifted myself off his hooked fingers as I managed to slip past him. We finally left steam room 16 and wandered down the darkened hallway barefoot, stark naked and disheveled. Some of the old men were following us at a distance. They saw me fingering myself while moving down the corridor next to Peter. They ogled our sweat-covered naked bodies from behind. They stared at our bare backs and moving buttocks. Peter’s hard cock was still swaying heavily between his legs, as we found the run-down communal shower room. We turned on the main water point; all the decrepit showerheads started running simultaneously. The room quickly filled with hot water vapor.

Angie stood in the door opening and watched us at the back, only visible as shadows in the cascading warm water. She moved away as two naked overweight men appeared. They slowly came towards us, drenched, masturbating. They stopped as I put up my hand. I knew what they wanted to see. My still swollen, hot vagina told me to hurry up. I looked at them as I leaned with my stretched out arm against one of the walls. Peter was behind me as he lifted up one of my legs. He planted his legs wide apart and slightly squatted. The men watched how his cock slid teasingly over my gaping, twitching slit. Peter then changed the angle and slowly pushed his long meat almost sideways up into my body. He pushed my vertical leg even higher. I was almost lifted off the floor and fully stretched. I held on to the wall as he rammed his pole blatantly up my gaping red slit between my stretched out legs. I bend backwards to accommodate the wild fucking. I breathed heavily and moaned as I felt his big dickhead prodding inside of me. I was so horny, as I stared at the old men in front of me. They frantically masturbated, their gaze fixated on Peter’s cock, jamming into me.

After a few minutes I couldn’t take it anymore. I recognized the familiar feeling as it enveloped me. I gazed through the dense steam at the two men, who were stroking their hard cocks in front of us. “Do you like how we fuck for you?” I whispered teasingly. “Watch how he rams it into my slit, do you see my hole twitching?” I stared at their stiff red cocks under their big bellies. They were only a meter away from us in the warm gushing water. They could almost smell our hot bodies.

“Watch me, watch how I come for you. Oh… fuck… there it is,” I moaned loudly.

Peter jammed it balls-deep into me while my body suddenly twisted and stiffened up. They heard my cries and looked at my desperate face. I heard and felt how Peter also orgasmed. He trembled and pulled out of me as large white strands hit my crotch and splashed on to my midriff. I saw them ogling my sperm-covered genitals as they finally came themselves. I studied their anguished faces as white liquid shot out of their hard cocks.

“Oh fuck,” I sighed; “So beautiful…”

It so turned me on, the sight of people coming. I could go on all night doing this.

The men slowly moved away.

From our far corner we saw them leave, as silhouettes, through the showering water and dense steam. Naked and dripping wet we also quickly left the shower room. Angie was waiting for us in the hallway with our clothes. Other men might come; the situation could get out of hand. We had to get away from here. We didn’t dry off but hurriedly put on our jeans and t-shirts. Barefoot, holding our trainers, we dashed down the corridor, out of the building. The cool night air hit us as we ran down the dark, deserted street. Angie was behind us. We took a break in a nearby dark alley.

Peter and I leaned breathlessly against a wall behind large garbage containers. We were both wet and disheveled. I gazed at Angie as she smiled and caressed my face. In the rush I’d forgotten to button up my jeans. She gently slipped her hand inside, searching for the space between my legs. I felt her fingers delicately caressing the edges of my still pulsating vagina. “Hmmm, Alea,” she sighed; “You need an ice pack baby. Your genitals are so sensitive and swollen…” I saw her look at Peter, leaning against the wall beside me. His heaving chest and erratic breathing betrayed his arousal. His jeans were also still open, his hard cock clearly visible. Angie kissed his cheek. She gently touched his hair and face as she saw the distressed, aroused look in his eyes. He followed her long fingers, moving towards his oversensitive cock and moaned. He suddenly slightly trembled, as she gently touched his throbbing meat.

The Viagra hadn’t worked off yet.

We noticed how Angie’s eyes lingered for a while as she studied us both from the opposite side of the narrow alley. Two teenagers with short messed up blond hair, leaning against the wall in the semi-darkness, looking wet and scruffy, with their jeans hanging half open. “Hmmm, quite a show, very interesting,” she audibly whispered. “I was right all along. Since the moment I met you two at the airport. You will be fine for peepshows; very horny fuckers indeed.” We didn’t pay attention. We were spent and had difficulty walking. Thankfully, the hotel was only a short distance away. With raised eyebrows, the doorman studied our messy appearance as we slowly went past, through the lobby, towards the elevators. In Angie’s suite we immediately discarded our clothes. Ten minutes later room service attendants dropped off the ice packs she’d ordered, while we were hiding naked in the bedroom.

We were on the large bed, trying not to touch ourselves between our legs, as Angie came in. A faint smile flashed across her face while she slowly wandered around the bed taking in the sight of our nude bodies, lying stretched out on the crisp white bed linen. She leaned over and gently placed the cooling packs on our oversensitive genitals. I was still on a high when I squeezed my limbs around the soothing cold ice.

“Did you see them all staring between our legs and wanking over us? There were so many of them,” I sighed; “God, what a buzz.”

Angie uncorked a bottle, handed us some glasses and poured us a red wine. She made herself comfortable with her glass on the large cream-colored sofa, opposite our king-size bed. “I… eh, I watched you two from the back of the steam room. You two were very... entertaining… tonight,” she said, observing us while sipping her wine. “You showed off yourselves better, you quickly changed positions and kept on going after you had your orgasm,” she said in a matter-of-fact, teacher kind of way.

For a few minutes there was silence in the room. We were all still coming to terms, and recovering from what had happened at the bathhouse.

“You two know that my husband and I leave next Friday, don’t you?” We heard Angie’s soft voice breaking the silence, as we were on our backs on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

We both nodded. We had tried not to think about it. The thought of her leaving made us anxious; she had been a great teacher. There was so little time and still so much to learn… “A dinner will be held on Thursday evening, here at the hotel,” she continued. “Both your parents will be there, me and my husband, and a few business people from around Stockholm…”

“I eh, I would like to organize a surprise for my husband that night…” We lifted our heads and looked at her when she paused. We were curious to know what she had planned for us. “Have eh, have you two ever thought about, how shall I say, …sharing yourself with others, …a couple, …groups of people? You know, something like …‘swinging’, but then for money?” We blushed and gazed at her, puzzled, while trying to digest what she meant. We had never done anything like that before. I glanced at Peter, undecided. We both didn’t know what it would be like, seeing the other have sex with total strangers…”

“But Angie; isn’t that like …‘prostituting’ …ourselves?” I offered.

“Maybe,” Angie hesitantly admitted; “It’s probably inevitable that someone will approach you when you’re performing. Just imagine; a couple watches your performance. They like what they see and offer you lots of money for a foursome. Or they are having an exclusive party at their place. They’re looking for a couple that would like to be, how shall I put it, …the ‘instigators’… You would start …’proceedings,’ …and later on be shared around between groups of people. They would constantly lube you up; feed you aphrodisiacs. You both would fuck with all the guests without stopping until the early hours of the morning.”

Angie fell quiet for a moment. Peter and I lay naked and intertwined in between the many white-grey pillows. In thoughts we stared at each other while we tried to come to grips with the mental picture of what she just described.

“These kind of parties,” Angie said while refilling her wine glass; “They will offer you a lot of money to …eh, as you described it, …’prostitute yourselves’ …all night for all the guests.” She paused again… “One such party could cover your expenses for months...”

“How eh, …how much, …Angie; …how much would they pay us for that?” Angie heard my hesitant voice coming from the back of the bed. She faintly smiled. There was a chance that Alea and Peter would consider accepting these kind of offers; “Oh, somewhere around 30000 Krona… that is, for …each …of you.” She heard me gasp; my shocked response, as I let it all sink in.

After a lengthy silence Angie felt that this could now be the right time to play her hand; “About that surprise for my husband… I was thinking …on Thursday evening …you two, …you could maybe join us… Would you two be prepared to, say, …’play’ …with my husband and I? She paused. Her eyes were fixated on the naked flesh, sprawled on top of the white bed linen, as she gauged their response. “I would pay you... and yes, you would be, …eh, as you described it, …’prostituting yourselves’ …for us. She saw how Alea and Peter’s heads lifted. They stared at her from the bed. “10000 Krona,” Angie said. “And I would film you too, to show it to people who could hire your …’services’, back in Thailand.”

Angie got up, carrying her glass, and slowly went towards the door. “Think it over,” she said, as she glanced over her shoulder. “Tell me on Thursday night, after the dinner.”

It was early morning as we left the hotel suite. We had breakfast in a hippie-like café in the Södermalm district and went for our usual bike ride. We stopped at Birger Jarlsgatan for some window shopping and wandered down its exclusive avenue in Stockholm’s late summer sunshine.

Throughout the week Peter and I talked about Angie’s proposition. Hesitation and doubts filled our minds. I thought about her husband Uan Wattana. I visualized him from my memory of our meeting at the airport. He was much older and overweight; I remembered his large, rubbery lips and the gold rings on his thick hairy fingers. The thought of him groping us somehow made me uncomfortable. We slowly realized; this was another one of Angie’s lessons. She had deliberately created this situation for a purpose. She knew something like this would happen during the year, during our time spent in peepshow rooms, where certain people would approach us with indecent proposals. She wanted us to think about whether we were willing to prostitute ourselves; to be seduced into groupsex by our burning urges and the money on offer. For what price were we prepared to sell our bodies, to, at times, unattractive strangers, for sex? Peter and I were both intrigued, aroused by the erotic scenarios on offer, but in doubt about the risks. We didn’t know the answers to all these questions. The week went past and Thursday came.

That afternoon my father, Michael Asplund, arrived home early from his investment job at the bank. The pre-dinner drinks at the Grand Hotel started around 7pm. Our f****y needed time to prepare for this black tie occasion. In my room I slipped my naked body into my new knee-length, black lacy cocktail dress and high heels. I went downstairs into the living room and glimpsed at my parents. My father Michael struggled with his bow tie and dark blue tuxedo. My mother, Karin Asplund, applied her makeup and straightened her emerald evening dress in front of the mirror in the hallway. They would have been shocked and disgusted had they known about my secret erotic odyssey. How those dirty old men in the bathhouse perved on my swollen vagina and fondled their naked daughter between her legs.

It was just before 7pm as my Dad handed his car keys to the valet and the three of us entered the Grand Hotel lobby. We proceeded to one of the hotel bars and met up with Peter and his parents, Torsten and Annelind Sundahl. I was quietly proud of having Peter as my boyfriend, the way he looked smart and elegant in his classic black tuxedo. Around twenty people attended the dinner. Most of them were business people with their wives from around Stockholm with whom Uan Wattana has business dealings. All were strangers to me, apart from Peter, our families and Angie. Around 7.30pm we were seated at several round tables in a small function room. For most of the evening Peter and I observed Angie and her husband from a distance. They were busy networking with their business contacts from across town. Angie was the centre of attention in her body hugging short black dress. Her heavy gold band necklace looked elegant underneath her long black curls.

Towards the end of the evening most guests had retreated to the Hotel’s cocktail lounge. Peter and I were sitting at the bar, enjoying our drinks, as Angie joined us. “Hmmm, so there you are. I’ve been looking for you both.” I locked eyes with her, then glanced silently at Peter. Angie felt how tense we were. She knew we hadn’t decided yet. “My husband and I… we …eh, require the paid services of you two tonight…” She tried to f***e the issue and stared at us both with intent. “This is one of your lessons, isn’t it,” I countered. She smiled in a cheeky way and leaned over to us; “…Everything …I have done so far, has been a deliberate lesson,” she whispered. “Tonight will teach you both something about what might happen in your year abroad.” She smiled as she emptied her cocktail glass and placed it on the bar. “Tell you parents you’re going to another party,” she continued; “Leave the hotel, and come back in an hour, at eleven, when your parents have left. You know where to go…” She slowly walked away but then returned. “Oh, almost forgot,” she said while reaching into her purse. “Here,” she whispered, while discreetly slipping us an envelop; “I think you both might need these tablets. We expect you two to …perform …throughout the night,” Angie mischievously smiled; “We want value for our money…” We both blushed and looked at each other, shocked, but at the same time, curious and aroused. Angie glanced at us over her shoulder, gauging our response, as she left the cocktail lounge.

That night at 11pm, the Grand Hotel doorman started his night shift. He watched a young couple stroll through the front entrance and enter the lobby. They were both dressed in elegant evening attire. He in a black tuxedo and she in a black lace cocktail dress with high heels. The experienced doorman sensed their anxiety. His eyes followed them down the lobby towards the elevators.

Alea’s hand pressed itself on her dress between her legs as soon as the sliding doors closed. She had been anticipating what was about to happen all afternoon. The twitching around her vagina drove her wild. She glanced sideways at Peter and noticed the contours of his erection in the fabric of his black pants. Angie answered their knock on the door. She quickly read the aroused state the two youngsters were in. The lounge area of the suite was dimly lit. Uan Wattana, Angie’s husband, looked up from his papers. “Eh, my Dear, may I introduce Alea Asplund and Peter Sundahl. You know the son of Torsten Sundahl, our business partner…” Because of her husband’s poor English skills Angie quickly repeated it in Thai. Uan didn’t rise from the large modern grey sofa. It had been a long day. Still in his black tuxedo, but with his bow tie undone, he was overweight, unfit and exhausted. He looked up at the two elegantly dressed teenagers and nodded benignly.

Angie leaned over to her husband and spoke softly to him in Thai. Alea noticed that his eyes slowly lit up. His gaze was all of a sudden firmly fixated on them. Angie mysteriously smiled as she turned to Alea and Peter; “I eh, I’ve just told him that you two are his surprise. That I hired you two for tonight for our entertainment…” Angie came closer to Alea; “Why don’t you, eh, show him what you’ve got to offer…” She turned to Peter who was further behind her. Her hand slid over his pants and softly squeezed his crotch; “Hmmmm, I think your already very hard, Peter,” she whispered. Peter just nodded and faintly smiled. He had taken his Viagra tablet twenty minutes ago and already felt the effects. “Watch Alea,” Angie whispered, “and slowly take your clothes off. Then get into the bedroom and wait for her on the bed…”

Alea meanwhile positioned herself in front of Angie’s husband. She scrutinized this overweight man with his dark skin, bushy hair and thick hairy fingers. Unattractive and old enough to be her dad, he was definitely not her type. But she couldn’t care less. The burning urge between her legs was simply too strong. By now she’d do it with anyone. She saw his gesture and moved closer to him. She squeezed her breasts through her dress, and sighed, while offering her aching body to him.

Peter gazed at Alea as he slowly took off his shoes, jacket and pants. His hard cock jumped out as he followed Uan’s hand, slowly moving up his girlfriend’s inside leg, sliding under her black dress. Alea opened her legs wider and slightly bend backwards. In the background, Peter and Angie were watching her as Angie’s long fingers explored his rock hard cock. Alea slowly pulled down the back zipper of her dress. She trembled as the old man slid his flat hand in between her legs, his fingers teasing her wet twitching vagina. She pulled the dress over her head while slowly moving her midriff. Her buttocks clenched together while grinding and fucking the man’s fondling hand and fingers. Peter quietly retreated to the bedroom as Alea slowly slid off Uan’s hand. She turned around and moved naked, on high heels, towards where Peter was. Angie’s husband ogled her curved naked back, the space in between her slim legs, her small hard buttocks, sliding elegantly as she moved.

At the bedroom door she slipped off her heels, glanced over her shoulder, and gestured to Angie’s husband to follow her. She went on hands and knees close to the front of the bed and raised her left leg, exposing her crotch in all its detail. She closed her eyes and moaned as she felt the man’s rough fat lips sucking her labia, a tongue sliding through her vagina, straight up in between her buttocks, circling her anal button. She opened her mouth as Peter slowly fed his rigid cock into her. She took a short break and glanced to her right. Angie slowly pulled down the zipper of her figure hugging black dress and carefully slipped it off while watching her, Peter and her husband on the bed. Alea’s sex chemicals rushed through her head. She realized this would be their first groupsex session. She braced herself and moaned loudly as she felt thick lips and fingers inside of her, incessantly licking and sucking the flesh between her legs. She moaned and slowly lowered her head, her lips sliding over Peter’s waiting throbbing dickhead. It was going to be a long hot night.

Just after midnight Annelind Sundahl parked her car in the driveway of the Grand Hotel. She told the doorman she would only be a few minutes and went inside into the lobby, towards the elevators. She had found out on the Net that their guests’ flight to Thailand had been re-scheduled. She wanted to be sure Angie and Uan Wattana were aware of it. She knew which suite the Wattana’s occupied on the eighth floor. She left the elevator and knocked on their door; there was no reply. She tried the handle and found the door unlocked. She hesitantly entered the darkened and deserted lounge room. She noticed the red light and rhythmic music, coming from one of the rooms at the back. As she came closer she saw a black garment lying on the plush carpeted floor. As she picked it up a shock went through her. She examined it carefully and recognized it as Alea Asplund’s cocktail dress. The find puzzled her; What was her dress doing here, in this hotel suite, on the floor? A bit further down she discovered more clothes on the carpet that looked like a black tuxedo. Confused she picked them up and checked the labels inside. She felt uneasy when she recognized the garments. The clothing in her hand belonged to her son Peter. She stared at the red light coming from around the slightly opened door of the room in front of her. She carefully peered through the door opening.

What she saw shocked her to her core.

She recognized Alea Asplund and her own son Peter, stark naked on the bed, involved in groupsex with Angie and Uan Wattana. She watched their intertwined, frantic bodies move under the red lights, on the rhythm of the beat. The air was filled with moans and erratic breathing, mixed with the beat of the music. Many dark brown hands squeezed and groped Alea’s twisting naked flesh in the pile. She and Angie kissed each other wildly, their mouths tightly interlocked, their lips desperately sucking each other. She looked at Angie’s slim naked brown body, her wide-open legs, her neatly cut black pubic hair and dark brown gaping vagina. Under the red light the different colored arms, legs and bodies moved over and into each other like worms. The adrenaline, sex chemicals and d**gs kept them all going.

Annelind Sundahl slowly turned away from the door. She stared at the semi-dark deserted lounge room while still hearing the noises coming from the bedroom. The sight of what happened in there made her feel numb, shocked and confused. She quietly left the hotel suite and carefully closed the door. In the elevator, on the way down, she still couldn’t believe what she had just witnessed. Her son Peter, his girlfriend Alea Asplund, those Thai people, Angie Wattana, …stark naked… She realized however that she couldn’t mention this to anyone. Certainly not to the Asplunds, not even to her husband Torsten. The Wattanas were mayor clients of her husband’s firm. Her f****y’s financial security depended on her discretion. She passed and nodded to the hotel doorman and got into her car. Silently she sat frozen at the wheel for a moment. The image of all that naked light- and dark skinned flesh; the smells and the sounds of wild mating… She still saw it in front of her. It was all engraved in her brain. What she witnessed in that hotel suite would be with her forever. It would be her secret.

Bangkok, six weeks later.

It was a Thursday morning at a local Bangkok post office. Tony Pookusuwan opened his mailbox and pulled out a pile of letters. Bills, promotions, …and a small pink envelope from someone called Angie Wattana. He stuck it back into the bundle and made his way to his sex theater business at Pat Pang Soi 1. In his small, messy, chaotic office he opened the pink envelope. It contained a short letter and a memory stick. He stuck the device into his large flat screen PC-TV and opened the file. While the file loaded, he returned behind his desk and read the letter.

It mentioned a young Scandinavian couple, arriving in about a few months looking for work in local peepshows. Apparently they were also available for sophisticated clients and exclusive parties. Tony’s eyes wandered to the images appearing on his flatscreen. It showed, what appeared to be, footage from a luxury bedroom. The shaky amateur camera work showed a naked young teenage girl with short blond hair. She was on a large bed, on her hands and knees, filmed from the front with her head down. Someone roughly took her from behind. A dark female hand appeared in the corner of the screen, reaching out for the girl. The hand grabbed her short blond hair and slowly pulled her head up. It was obvious the girl was in another world. Her eyes showed she was hot as fuck.

“Who are you?” a female voice softly asked. “I …eh, I’m Alea,” the girl sighed while shaking from the impact of someone banging into her from behind. “Where do you come from?” the voice continued. “…Eh …Stockholm, oh god yeah, right there, fuck me…” Tony heard her moan as her head slowly dropped but the hand roughly grabbed her hair again and pulled her up; “Tell me Alea, what are you good at, girl?” She stared into the camera with half-closed wild, horny eyes. “Fucking… I’m good at fucking. Oh god, I so love it…” The shaky camera panned past her, following the contour of her back and bottom. It focused on the long cock banging into her. It then traveled upwards. A very young male face appeared on the screen. The guy looked every bit the teenager from Scandinavia and also had short white hair. “What’s your name?” the female voice asked again. “Peter,’s Peter…” the teenager whispered while being short of breath. He turned his panting face slightly and glanced into the camera.

The dark-skinned female hand appeared, running through the guy’s messed up blond hair, gently caressing his stressed face; “What are you doing, Peter, what are you good at?” “Oh, fucking,” he whispered; “Yeah, I just love fucking…” The camera followed the female hand running down his chest and hard midriff. He moaned while he pulled out his long cock. The footage showed the hand grabbing it and starting to wank it. He squealed, whimpered. Tony saw his body shake and tremble. The guy now moaned loudly. The female hand held his cock in a tight grip as his hips kept rocking forward. He let out a small scream. White sperm suddenly shot out and landed far down on the girls’ back. The scene suddenly ended. Other footage appeared. Here the girl was naked and upright on her spread-out knees on the bed. The camera showed off her body. It panned down over her flat chest, her stomach, and eventually in between her legs, giving a close up view of her blond pubic hair and red gaping vagina.

Tony got up from behind his desk and quickly froze the screen. “Hmmm,” he murmured; “Well, have look at that… Blond pubes, that’s definitely a first for me…” He let the footage roll and watched how she teasingly impaled herself on a long black cock and rode it while leaning backwards. The camera gave a close-up of the girl’s swollen pink labia, tightly gripping the glistening black pole. As she slowly lifted herself off, the female hand again entered the screen, pushing two dark fingers up her frothy slit. The girl moaned and rode the prodding fingers until they slipped out. The hand grabbed the hard black meat, wanked it and guided it slowly back into the girls’ vagina. The camera followed the dark female fingers, roaming over her body, squeezing her moving midriff and small tits. Her distressed face appeared large on Tony’s flat screen TV.

The hand grabbed her by her neck hair. “What are you doing, Alea?” the female voice whispered. The blond girl gazed in the camera. Her face was red and sweaty. She was breathless and close to coming. “Oh god, I so need to come. Watch me, watch me orgasm for you…” Tony looked at her exhausted face as she stiffened up, bending her shaking body with her mouth wide open. The camera panned downwards, catching the long black cock as it slowly pulled out of her. Semen shot up and splashed in between her legs, coating her blond pubes.

Tony loved the sight of all that. He had seen enough. He turned off the TV and pulled out the memory stick. He knew that these two blond Scandinavians would be a draw card in his peepshow rooms. Like so many, he used the email address provided to register his interest.

On Friday afternoon a limousine collected Angie and Uan Wattana from the Grand Hotel lobby and transferred them to Stockholm Airport. The airline had sent them a text in the morning about a last minute change of flight schedule. The Asplund- and Sundahl families were at the Airport to say goodbye to their guests. Angie, Alea Asplund and Peter Sundahl hugged. “Remember your lessons, and keep yourselves safe,” she whispered to both of them. “Here’s my address. I’ll take care of you both in a few months time in Bangkok.”

Annelind Sundahl watched it all with mixed feelings. She looked at Alea Asplund, Peter Sundahl, Angie Wattana and her overweight husband. She had seen them the night before, stark naked, indulging in wild groupsex. She still vividly recalled the images of all the naked debauchery. “Are you OK my dear?” She looked in the concerned eyes of her husband, Torsten Sundahl. “Yes, …yes, just a headache from the stress of the last couple of days,” she lied.

A week later Alea Asplund and Peter Sundahl boarded their aircraft, bound for Sydney Australia. They had collected the 10000 Krona Angie Wattana left for them in an envelope at the Grand Hotel’s service desk.

Their first payment for sexual services rendered.
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Posted by aristidis500
10 months ago    Views: 2,153
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10 months ago
Mmmmm fantastic xx