GRETCHEN_SWEDISH_EXCH_STUDENT_mf_1st_bi?
By Fatherodelli (fatherodelli@yahoo.com)
**** Interspersed between her moans and screams were
the cries of "KOOD, KOOD!" and "MAHKOOS, MAHKOOS!" To
this day, I can hear her in my head, yet can't
duplicate her sexual sounds. To put it mildly, I'm
happily convinced she was *************************
But, I'm way ahead of myself! First, let me set up
this so you can enjoy it even more:
When I was in high school, I was certainly not cool,
nor one of the most popular guys. Frankly, I was not
particularly good-looking and not athletic. On the
other hand, I wasn't ugly either and I did have a few
dates while I was a kid. Probably like other of
my genre, I always wondered why I couldn't be the guy
that chicks noticed first and that they seemed to hang
all over. But, that was just not to be. So, here I
was beginning my senior year of high school with my
virginity frustratingly intact. I especially wished I
was cooler the day the new foreign exchange student
arrived.
But first, I think it's important you understand a
little about my high school. I grew up in southern
Wisconsin in the United States. Ours was an
agricultural community and nearly every student was
white, Anglo-Saxon and Protestant. Yes, we all pretty
much looked alike, acted alike, dressed alike. Few
people had moved into or out of our community since we
all started to school together in kindergarten. So,
except for noticing when a started to wear a bra,
there was little change to talk about from day-to-day.
You know the situation. Usually, there just wasn't
anything new. Let's face it, life in southern
Wisconsin in 1976 for a seventeen-year-old was, in a
word, BORING!
This introduction to my senior year of high school
wouldn't be complete without mentioning my best friend
Kirt. In so many ways, we were much alike. Maybe
that's why we became such good friends. We could
commiserate about our lack of action with the girls,
our lack of coolness and our hope we would become less
square in the future.
And, that's the way it was. Until the day the foreign
exchange student arrived! There had been a few
students from foreign lands before, like the from
Peru that kicked field goals for the football team a
few years ago. Then, there was the from Mexico
that was so plain and non-descript. But, every
from 14-18 years immediately fell in love with the
new from Sweden the day she was introduced to the
student body. Gretchen was her name and I distinctly
remember the first day she came to school with Melody,
a classmate of mine from her host family. My first
reaction was that my mouth became immediately dry! I
had never had that reaction to a before.
Evidently, upon seeing a lovely vision like Gretchen,
raging testosterone builds up in the saliva glands and
blocks saliva secretion and, at the same time, perhaps
a guy's nuts cry out for liquid to manufacture gallons
of semen. Therefore, all available moisture is sent
from throughout his body to the scrotum on an
emergency basis.
When Melody introduced her to the student body,
Gretchen stood up, smiled and waved. I had never
given much thought to what a Scandinavian looked
like before. Gretchen was so unmistakably
Scandinavian. Her hair fell easily to her shoulders
and looked to be the blondest hair I had ever seen. It
was so fine and smooth, almost like a child's hair.
She had a broad smile with the whitest teeth
imaginable. Her eyes were a crystal sky blue, and
literally lit up the homeroom. The most beautiful
skin I had ever seen dramatically enhanced all of her
beautiful, distinctive features. As a matter of fact,
I didn't know it was possible for anyone to have skin
and a complexion like Gretchen. She had a square jaw
and a wide smile. She was perfectly tanned on every
part of her body that I saw that day. Her face, her
hands, her shoulders, her legs and her feet were all
exactly the same warm color of tan. Of course, in my
habitually horny mind, I was wondering what the rest
of her body looked like.
Speaking of her body, it was something to behold! For
one thing, her style of clothes on her beautiful body
was something I had never seen before. Obviously, she
brought along her unique Swedish fashion and I loved
it from day one. For her debut in front of the
student body, she was wearing a white sundress with
tiny blue sailboats on it that came just above her
knees, with very narrow shoulder straps. She was the
most perfect vision of loveliness I had ever seen.
Little did I know that day how much Gretchen would
affect my life over the next nine months.
One of the coolest parts of her fashion statement was
that she often didn't wear a bra. Yes, she was a
Swede in every way and the more I researched the
topic, the more I learned that the bra-less look was
typical for a Swedish female. Depending on what
top she chose to wear on a given day, you could often
make out the outline of her nipples. And, the shape
of her and nipples was so beautiful. Even
without a bra, her seemed so firm and her
nipples actually had a "turned-up" effect when viewed
from the side. I had never seen anything like her.
She actually attained goddess status with me. I know
this sounds crazy, but she provided nearly 100% of my
sexual excitement on a daily basis. Best of all, she
always seemed more carefree about her sexuality than
girls from our community. For example, she didn't
seem to worry if her were a little more
visible than we were used to. She was just plain
sexy. The loved her and I think the
secretly hated her.
Over the next couple of months, literally every in
my high school vied for the attention of Gretchen. I
was no exception. As a matter of fact, I remember
well how dorky we all acted in our mostly vain
attempts to gain some ground with the hot from
Sweden. When I woke up every weekday morning, my
first thought was to hurry to homeroom so I could
arrive before Gretchen. Then, I could see her walk in
and began my fantasies for the day of what I would do
if I had time alone with Gretchen. My were
pleased with my new interest in getting up in the
morning and hurrying off to school. They mistook my
raging hormones for what appeared to them to be my new
mature outlook on the worth of a good high school
education.
Kirt and I knew it was only a matter of time before
some guy in our town would claim her as his prize. It
was difficult to tell whom she might get romantically
involved with because she was so nice to everyone.
About all we ever got from her was her sweet smile.
The lucky guy turned out to be Brent. Brent was a
senior like Kirt and me. He had the reputation of
always getting the he wanted and when he set his
sights on Gretchen, we groaned in disappointment
knowing she would soon be his girl.
They dated seriously through the next several months.
Kirt and I reasoned that, even though she was
seemingly connected at the hip to Brent, we could
still fantasize all we wanted. We logically concluded
that the stark reality was that fantasizing about
Gretchen was about as close as we would ever get to
her physically.
But, that "stark reality" changed at a Christmas party
that year. One of my classmates hosted an informal
Saturday night party. His were out-of-town
and he took the liberty of inviting a bunch of us over
for beer and anything else that might develop. It was
one of those occasions where more and more people kept
showing up at his doorstep as word circulated
throughout my boring hometown about his party.
Everyone was always looking for something cool to do
and there weren't many choices in small-town Wisconsin
on a Saturday night.
Kirt and I were overwhelmed to see SO many people in
one house! It was a pretty typical party scene
rocking with beer, dancing and music. But, it didn't
take long for my eyes to fixate on one person. There
was Gretchen, looking as beautiful and sexy as ever.
After a few hours passed, quite a few people started
to leave. I hadn't seen Gretchen around recently so I
asked one of her girlfriends about her. She told me
that Gretchen had consumed far too much beer and had
retired to an upstairs bedroom. At about the same
time, another classmate announced to the dozen or so
people that were still in attendance that the party
was moving to his house for "an hour or so" so
everyone could see his new TV. Someone remarked that
perhaps the three of four people that had passed out
should have some cold water thrown on them to wake
them up so they could go along with us. But, the
consensus seemed to be that they would be okay until
everyone returned and to allow them to stay passed
out.
A crazy thought flashed across my mind as everyone was
filing out. I figured Gretchen was alone in an
upstairs bedroom and I quickly made the decision that
maybe if I stayed behind, I could seize the chance to
be alone with her for a few minutes. I had no clear
idea what I was going to do with her in her apparent
inebriated state. But just the idea of being alone
with this goddess for a few minutes after so many wet
dreams about her overpowered my decision-making
process. So, I told everyone I would be along in a
few minutes, excused myself and headed up the stairs,
pretending to need the toilet.
I opened the door to the first room at the top of the
stairs. I expected to find her lying on a bed in a
bedroom. Instead, she was slumped down in a large
recliner in what appeared to be a sewing room.
I closed the door behind me and stood in front of her.
She was obviously passed out. I spoke her name
softly, then again considerably louder and she failed
to respond. Even in her drunken state, she was so
incredibly beautiful and sexy. That unique
hair was draped over part of her face. Even as drunk
as she was, I still thought she was a prize. What a
lucky moment for me! Finally, I was alone with this
stunning Swedish girl.
My mouth completely dried out this time, even more
than the first day I met her. She was wearing low-cut
jeans and a body and looking totally in vogue
with the fashion trend of the day. I picked up her
hand and continued to talk with her. She was like a
rag doll, totally unresponsive and had no idea I was
there. Thinking this would be the closest I would
ever get to paradise, I ran my fingers through her
silky soft hair and across the smoothest face my
inexperienced hands had ever touched. She still
didn't move. I dropped to my knees so I could get
even closer and smell this goddess. Even through the
beer smell, she smelled good. No, she smelled BETTER
than good, absolutely the best smell of "real teenage
girl" I had ever smelled!
I think it was about that time that I decided there
was no way I could hold back from exploring her body.
I didn't know how far I would go with her or what it
might take for me to stop. I only knew that I had to
touch her. This was just too good to be true!
From my kneeling position, I gently and carefully
placed my hands on her and flicked her nipples
with my thumbs. Of course, there was no bra to get in
the way of my advances. Her beautiful
involuntary hardened with the stimulation of my touch.
GOD! These were just as incredible to touch as I
had always imagined. Her breathing never changed, so
I thought that was a good sign that I could continue
my handiwork. Next, I placed my fingertips on her
pussy mound and began a rotating motion, eventually
fondling her lips with my fingers. SHIT! I was
touching the of Gretchen, the Swedish foreign
exchange student! The gods were smiling upon me.
Gaining confidence, I brazenly made a subconscious
decision that I had to see her naked, had to have her
sexually and wouldn't stop unless something drastic
happened. So, I unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans.
Then, with a firm, steady pull, I started to pull them
down past her hips, while lifting her with one arm
around her underarms. She was so limp that it made
her a little bit heavy, even though she was so lithe.
I couldn't believe it when her jeans finally slid down
lower than her knees. I quickly removed her shoes and
socks and pulled her jeans past her feet. Finally,
she was naked except for her top.
Her top was one of those body shirts that were so
popular in the 70's. The tail of the was long
and actually went down and through the crotch and
buttoned with two buttons at the front of the crotch.
Most wore with their body shirts. But
wouldn't you know it? Gretchen wore no panties! So,
when I unbuttoned her white body shirt, its elasticity
immediately made it snap up nearly to her navel,
exposing the most luscious imaginable!
At that point, I think I lost any semblance of reason
and any claim to a rational thought process. My mind
simply exploded as my cock simultaneously became rock
hard. Looking at that beautiful pussy, my jaw must
have dropped to my chest. Up to that point in my
life, except for pictures in "forbidden" magazines, I
had never really seen a pussy. But, this one was
different than all of the visions I had in my head.
Her lips were parted slightly, probably because her
left leg was draped over the arm of the chair. I
could smell her sex from about two feet away. The
most incredible thing [and what is burned on my mind
decades later] was the color of her pubic hair. It
was as as the hair on her head! I had expected
it to be considerably darker, like I had seen many
times in the magazine photos. WOW! What a true Swede
she was! Equally as incredible was the texture of the
hair. It wasn't curly, coarse or kinky. It was as
silky soft and smooth as the hair on her head and it
draped appealingly over those luscious lips.
After examining Gretchen's holy of holies for a minute
or so, I impulsively dove in! I had no idea what to
do, except for a few about eating that I
had read. But, who needs instructions at a point like
this? I forced my nose between her lips and my tongue
in her and began fucking her with my tongue, my
nose and my lips. I grabbed the back of her legs and
pushed her knees closer to her shoulders, exposing her
cunt that much more and allowing me to almost get my
face inside her. If it had been possible, I would
have slid my whole head inside her gorgeous cunt.
This was the most natural high I had ever experienced!
She remained totally limp as I continued to taste her
cunt and massage those beautiful tits.
I knew at that point that I had to fuck her. But, I
also knew had to work quickly in case somebody decided
to come back and check on me. So, I pulled down my
jeans and shorts, freeing my virgin cock. I had a
general idea what to do next, but I had never in my
fantasies imagined I would get my first fuck from a
lifeless Swedish doll! Trying to reach a level
directly across from her, I put both of her legs over
my shoulders, which spread her legs rather nicely.
Next came the fun part. I grabbed my cock and eased
it into those hot, lips. The rest is history!
MY GOD! The warmth, the tightness, the wetness, the
smell! Now, I totally lost any control. My ears were
ringing, my mouth was parched, my eyes were closed and
my face was covered with Swedish juice. I was
fucking like a in heat with reckless abandon,
completely oblivious to anything going on around me.
About the only thing I remember that changed the mood
was the soft murmur of Gretchen saying, "Mahkoos,
Mahkoos, Mahkoos" in her Swedish way of saying my
name, "Marcus." Even when she placed her soft hand on
the back of my neck and reached forward to kiss me, I
continued to fuck and fuck and fuck. Since she
apparently knew what was going on, any normal person
might have stopped at that point. But I was so lost in
this world of sex with Gretchen that nothing could
stop me now! She was now at least a somewhat willing
participant in her half passed-out, inebriated state.
The next thing I knew, she was smiling, reaching out
her hand and whispering, "Kood, Kood, Kood". I turned
to the side while continuing to fuck her. There was
my friend Kirt, who had come back to check on me.
"What the fuck are you doin', man?" was his shocked
reaction. I remember I didn't really answer him.
There was a tense moment with Gretchen and I fucking
hard and Kirt standing a few feet from me with this
appalled look on his face. But, the tense moment
melted away when Gretchen took his hand while not
missing a beat of meeting my thrusts. In essence, she
was inviting Kirt to be a participant, but I had no
idea what would transpire. I just wanted to cum!
Then, she started to slide out from under me. I was
on the verge of cuming and couldn't believe she was
going to call this off at a most inopportune time. I
think I was nearly in a state of shock as she slipped
away from me leaving my wet, pulsating cock continuing
to spasm. My momentary disappointment was short-
lived, however. To my surprise [and to my
satisfaction] she motioned for me to lie down on the
floor. I couldn't obey fast enough. After all, her
pussy was fully in control here. With my flagpole
sticking up and waving, she positioned herself over
me, squatted and quickly impaled her hot, well-
lubricated little box firmly with my cock. As we
started our rhythm again, she motioned for Kirt to get
behind her. Then, she lay down on top of me and
placed her warm lips on mine. "Put it inside, Kood"
she told him as she pointed to her ass. I only
vaguely heard what was going on because I was lost in
my own fucking. But, for just an instant, my eyes
locked in with Kirt's. He looked confused, yet
extremely horny. He undoubtedly was also counting his
sexual blessings even though I'm sure he didn't know
exactly what she wanted him to do.
He was smart enough to pull his cock out and get
behind her beautiful little ass. With a quick
movement, she reached behind her, grabbed his hard
cock and proceeded to direct it into her on top
of my cock. Of course, her was already pretty
full. For a minute, I actually started to get creeped
out. I know Kirt did, too, after we talked it over
later. But, again, she was in charge and we were just
the "cocks in waiting."
Eventually, Kirt's cock squeezed in beside me in that
hot, little Swedish cunt. She started to make the
most wonderful sexual sounds. Interspersed between
her moans and screams were the cries of "KOOD, KOOD!"
and "MAHKOOS, MAHKOOS!" To this day, I can hear her
in my head, yet can't duplicate her sexual sounds. To
put it mildly, I'm happily convinced she was really
getting off on two cocks inside her.
It didn't take me long to get over my slight hesitancy
about having another guy's cock sliding alongside
mine. It was now SO INCREDIBLY TIGHT in this little
box. Kirt and I were pretty clumsy at first, but we
caught on in a hurry. We soon found out, through
trial and error, that if we didn't maintain the same
rhythm going in at the same time and out at the same
time, one of us would fall out. It was actually an
incredible feeling jointly fucking this girl. In just
a very short while, I came, flooding the insides of
her with glob after glob of pent-up semen.
Just as my orgasm was subsiding, I could tell Kirt was
about to shoot his, too. His dick felt bigger around
as it slid in and out beside mine. All of the sudden,
Kirt stopped his motion, still fully extended into
Gretchen. In about ten seconds, the amount of
doubled in her sweet pussy.
As we uncoupled and lay together for a few minutes, I
looked down at her beautiful pussy. Her soft,
pubic hair had been through quite an ordeal. Now, it
was wet and matted to her skin. Kirt and I took turns
kissing her as she smiled and smiled. When we asked
her about her sex life with Brent, she replied that
she and Brent had never had sex. She told us she was
not supposed to be intimate with anyone as part of her
exchange program rules. I guess in her inebriated
state, the rules simply took on less significance for
one night. At her request on that very special night,
Kirt and I pledged to never tell what happened and, in
return, she pledged to spend many more nights with
Kirt and I.
The only thing that bothered Kirt and I was if this
little arrangement somehow made us gay. That was an
important in 1976, small-town Wisconsin. We finally
agreed that we weren't actually having sex with each
other. We were simply satisfying the most beautiful
girl in the world and it took a tandem effort to do
it. Also, every time we would see Brent, Kirt and I
shared a third beer grin, knowing Brent wasn't getting
any. We were her lovers and were more than happy to
be doing our international duty of keeping Gretchen
well satisfied until graduation day.
Please send me your comments and thoughts about this
story or about any of my writings. My email address
is fatherodelli@yahoo.com
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