Tim and Bjorn

Tim and Bjorn, Ch. 02

Bjorn continues Tim's training

In the previous chapter, Bjorn, although young, clearly an experienced sexual player introduced an undecided young Tim to the array of sexual possibilities. The jury is still out on what Bjorn wants from Tim—or what Tim will decide. Let's see. All characters engaged in sexual activity are over 18. No AI was used in the composition of this story. © 2024, all rights reserved, Brunosden.

The story continues in Tim's first person voice...

We had breakfast with Mom around 9 the next morning. Wisely, she didn't probe too deeply. But, I could tell she was bursting with curiosity and maybe a little satisfaction: I had found a friend and was enjoying myself and had actually gone to and apparently loved a party. She knew I had met some ladies, had danced—and maybe more. She announced she was off to meetings in Boulder for the day. "We may go beyond dinner. So I've left money for you guys to get a pizza or whatever. See you late tonight or in the morning." Casually she asked, "What's up for you today?"

Bjorn quickly answered, "We've got the ice from 10 to 12. I've invited Tim to come along." He hadn't lied about our plans—just didn't provide all the details.

"Enjoy. I'll see you later. I'll txt my approximate ETA later when I know." She was gone a few minutes later.

"Do you really have practice?"

"Of course. I would never lie. But Shelley and Christi are expecting us around 1. It'll give us time to shower after practice. Christi has already told Shelley that she's into you." Then he smirked, "Or maybe you'll get into her, big guy." He reached over and tweaked my semi.

He was definitely a pro on the ice. No one could touch him. He virtually scored at will, and he was vicious in a clinch, giving far more than getting. It is no wonder that UColo wants him. I watched for awhile. The rink had a nice locker/gym, and I used part of the morning to work out and loosen up, running the indoor track for about 5. I was pumped—not just my muscles. Just after noon, the team appeared for their post-ice talk, and then we all showered. Bjorn was definitely the best looking guy on the team. He was going to be a heartthrob even if he turned out to be only a mediocre player—which didn't seem likely.

His physique drew a good deal of attention in the showers. But, I had probably the longest semi snake—the limited exposure that I'd had with the track team was born out with the hockey players, most of whom were large and muscled guys. I noticed the glances. But, right now he was my roommate, apparently with benefits. And that was contributing to my celebrity and my really good mood.

I drove us over to Shelley's where we had salads and sandwiches. After lunch, Shelley announced the program: a Romcom movie she had selected, viewed in the home theatre downstairs. We groaned appropriately, and she disregarded us as we knew she would. Then she wanted a wrestling match between me and Bjorn—Greek style. We want you guys all hot and sweaty. Then, we'll just decide where all that takes us."

We went downstairs and Shelley walked up to the bar to make drinks, pouring Tito's liberally into the four glasses of OJ. The movie was pretty obvious, but not horrible. The alcohol probably helped—so did the company. Despite the size of the home theatre, the girls decided they were going to be in our laps for the viewing. "Sitting in the lap of a hunk is the only way to watch a Romcom." (Wow, I was now a hunk?) The chairs were large and they reclined electrically. So within minutes of the opening credits, we were two piles of bodies, making out and squirming in the seats. Shelley is pretty devious. She had turned the heat up—and we were all in tees and underwear before long. She had also plunged the room into semi-darkness—just after she refreshed all the drinks.

We were close enough and the movie dialogue was low enough that we easily heard the sounds from the nearby theatre seat. Bjorn and I had talked earlier. This afternoon, I was going to lose my virginity. Christi was obviously willing to help. Before long, she was in just a thin silk teddy, squirming around on my now naked chest, occasionally sucking on a nipple or palming my shaft to ensure I was randy and hard. My jeans were already on the floor beside the seat. She was keeping me very interested—in her.

I reached around and gripping her soft cheeks, pulled her hard into me. She flowed right in—just as we heard the movie dialogue, "Oh, Aaron, You feel so good. You really turn me on. But, I do want to wait until we're married," and a nearby contrary whisper, "Yes, there. Slip him in. Yeah, right there. God, you're big. I love the way you feel inside." I took her lips again. She opened and our tongues dueled as I continued the massage.

I whispered, "I want you, Christi. But, it's got to be now. I'm gonna pop."

"I want to feel that Long John inside. Do it. Even if we have to do it more than once to get me off." She moved aside, unsnapped the teddy and pulled it up over her breasts. I pushed my boxers down, extracting the foil wrapper and mini lube from the little handy pocket. Soon she had rolled the condom down and lubed it. It was a magnum, but didn't quite reach the base. I could feel her warm fingers below the bottom rim. Then, she climbed back on and kissed me.

"I'm gonna ride your lap, cowboy. That way maybe, I can enjoy this as much as you will," she whispered as she rose, dropped lower onto my dick, and I slipped in. This was the most exciting, warmest, best experience of my life. I was in a woman! She was controlling the action, using my cock to stroke her where she wanted as she rose and dropped. And she was moaning in apparent pleasure. So she was enjoying it too. I realized the condom was helping me to stave off an orgasm. Bare may be better, but wrapped is often wiser—particularly on a hot young teenaged cock. When I was fully in, she bent forward and dropped her tits into my face, pushing the nipples into my lips. I sucked them deeply inside. She rose; I bucked a few times and exploded. What a fantastic feeling. I think she came with me—or at least she did a pretty good impression. In one sense, my first time was over. I had filled the bulb. But, I was still massaging this beautiful woman outstretched above me, listening to similar sounds of satisfaction a few feet away, as our pulses quieted and our musk rose. I think maybe she came again from just my caressing fingers. She had carefully guided me to where she wanted pressure. I know she sucked a hickey into my neck as she came.

The drought was over. I was a man. She was soft and wonderful in my arms. I loved being inside. I loved having another on top. But, curiously, I was still distracted by Bjorn's sounds of repeated conquest just a few feet away. I could easily picture him naked, his cock wet and warm, probing the willing depths of a partner.

When the movie ended, Shelley again took charge. "Don't bother to dress. It's showtime guys. Christi and I want to see you guys oiled and wrestling." Then she led us into the adjoining exercise room where padded mats had been conveniently set. "First, we get to oil you." She and Christi grabbed bottles of oil and began to massage it over our bodies. Needless to say, we were both soon erect again. They stood back and lasciviously licked their lips. "You guys look good enough to heat and eat—maybe later."

"Call it."

Bjorn shouted, "Head—or is it heads?"

We all erupted in laughter at the mistake—he needed a bit more idiomatic English.

"Head, it is."

"You're on the bottom, Tim."

I assumed the prescribed Greco-Roman position, not at all embarrassed to be pointing my naked ass and virgin pink hole into viewing position for all. I couldn't believe I was doing this. My dick (which I was now convinced was of acceptable, maybe prodigious length) stretched out only an inch or two from my gut even in that position. Bjorn tried to drape over me, but I was pretty tall—and very slick--so he was a little out of position. He seemed to be having trouble getting into the right stance as his chest squirmed around on my back. Then, I felt his large hard hand on my abs. I sucked in. His hand dropped and pushed through my pubes, to grab my cock. "No fair, Bjorn. That's not the position."

"Oh, really. That's how we do it in Sweden."

Both of the girls erupted, choking on their third vodkas. "This is going to be good."

I couldn't have been more stoked. I was a man. Two beautiful naked girls were our audience. I had just made love to one of them. And a naked Bjorn was pressed into my back, gripping my shaft, cupping my balls and sliding his cock along my cleft. My own hard dick was as long and thick as it had ever been. Our musk mingled with the oily smells. And, I thought maybe I was his better or at least his equal in the sex equipment department. Maybe I was also a better oil wrestler.

Shelley hit the gong and both of us struggled—getting no purchase whatsoever since we were dripping in the vegetable oil. After a few minutes of futile grips, holds, almost take-downs, we began to fatigue—although both of us had raging hard-ons. The girls had been snapping photos, and occasionally reaching out and stroking. But it wasn't over. Suddenly, Shelley and Christi pounced. Soon we were a mass of legs, arms—and much more interesting body parts, squirming around on the oily mats. Shelley pulled my cock into her mouth, but Bjorn pulled her off and placed her in his lap. Christi sat on my face, pushing her pussy into my lips.

It wasn't a fair fight. Christi, Shelley and Bjorn managed to get me on my belly, and one girl sat on my shoulders as the other sat on my waist—back to back.

But, then I felt something else. Shelley was pulling my ass cheeks apart—and Bjorn, kneeling in my vee, was inserting his oily fingers into my hole. He stroked several times, added another, and pushed into my nut. I was definitely opening and enjoying every second. I jolted when he hit the prostate and rose onto my knees, drawing his fingers deeper. That felt wonderful, maybe the best feeling of my life. I wanted more, much more. Christi fell off and I started to get up. But, it was too late. She slid under my head and pulled my face firmly into her fragrant crotch. I was trapped. Bjorn had stretched himself out behind me and had nailed me to the mat with his hard dick between my thighs and his legs and arms holding me under him as he kissed Shelley. Shelley of course was still riding my waist. My tongue came out to pleasure Christi as I felt the head of his dick knocking on my back door. He paused. "You want this, Tim? You gotta say you want this, really want this, or I'm not coming in. I want you to beg me for it."

He was going to fuck me! It might hurt. And there were witnesses—if I copped out, they'd know. If I let him in, the girls would know I had taken dick in the ass. But, he needed me to ask for it. They would know I was bi, maybe gay. What the fuck! I had been dreaming of something like this for months—but probably not in a public arena. But, I was already in so deep. Screw it. No, screw me!

"Please. I want to experience it all. I want you inside. Put it in." He pushed. There was a little pain, but it was easily countered by the pleasure I was experiencing in my chute, and of course, I was half-delirious from the aromas and heat of Christi's crotch in my face—and the multiple screwdrivers. He pushed harder and slid in. God that felt so good.

"Your first foursome, Tim!"

I continued to lick Christi—and Bjorn continued to stroke in me, repeatedly pummeling my love knot and pushing me harder into her. Each time he stretched my chute, punched my prostate, and bottomed, he sent shivers of pleasure up my spine, and my tongue curled to press into her. I was in absolute paradise. I was in love with Christi and Bjorn! I had Bjorn inside me. His dick was in my ass filling me with a delicious pressure. He was big and his arched shape was perfect for my nut. I felt him bottom and then his balls banging on mine. My toes curled. My legs stiffened. My gut contracted. I was in another world, sandwiched between two heavens. I was approaching an orgasm from two sides—my tongue in her and his cock in me.

Lights flashed—and when I looked up, I realized Shelley had gotten up and was recording all on her i-phone. I think maybe I was starring in my own porn flick. Christi screamed in delight and tightened her thighs around me. And I totally lost it. Christi began to spasm around my tongue, just as I blasted again and again, apparently contracting my anal muscles as I did so, milking Bjorn. He plunged, scraped my prostate hard, and shot an enormous blast into my gut. I felt the heat and the pressure. Then he fell onto my back. By then, I was wallowing in my cum which had pooled on the mat congealing with the oil. He wiggled around, apparently trying to push his cum deep inside. I had a man's cock inside me for the first time. He had bred me and made me his. I knew instantly that it wanted it. Every day. Every night. Every minute!

Soon, he pulled out. And I suddenly felt empty. Incredibly empty. My senses screamed, "No, put it back in." All my pleasuring of Christi was mostly about her. Of course, I enjoyed it. But, when Bjorn was inside me, I felt complete. When he blasted, I felt I was his. And when he pulled out, I felt empty—totally and completely empty. Immediately, I wanted him inside again. I was hypnotized and drugged. Then, Bjorn broke the spell. Maybe it was incredible for me, but for him it was just everyday sex play.

"Now that's a proper Swedish mid-winter afternoon party. Nobody needs a Yule log for heat. We've got our own—two of them, in fact. What's the schedule for tomorrow?" He left me satisfied, empty, confused, happy—but hungry. And I'm not sure he even realized how deeply he had changed me.

********

We did have pizza for dinner, showered, dressed in sweat pj bottoms and tees, and sat in front of the widescreen--to watch hockey, of course. Almost immediately after sitting, Bjorn pulled me into him, positioned my upper body across his lap and my head on the side cushion. Periodically, he'd bend down and kiss my lips, teasing with little bites.

Meanwhile, his left hand was seducing me. He pinched my nibs and caressed my abs. Then, he reached in and coddled balls and stroked my dick to rigid hardness, leaking into his palm. All of this was done with a level of detachment on his part, the moves repeated over and over as he stared at the plays. Just as I was about to shoot, he'd move back to my pecs and abs—always keeping me at the edge. He was quite content to have me as his "worry" bear, his very aroused, sexy toy. Occasionally, when a particularly good play occurred, he'd squeeze my dick and move his fingers to his mouth with the pre-cum he had pushed out. Then he'd reach back down, find the hole and penetrate deeply with a couple of pre-cum lubed fingers. My legs were widely splayed—one resting on the back cushion of the sofa, the other dangling toward the floor. By then he had me open enough to take three—and they were all stroking my love nerve bundle. My ass was literally throbbing and pulling him deeper inside. I was moaning in pleasure, but he seemed unmoved, detached—although I could feel his rock hard cock on my back.

He didn't seem to want me to reciprocate. In fact, he could have me like this anytime and anywhere. Our afternoon had changed me. I wanted nothing more than to be with him in his lap with his hands on my dick or in my ass—and him in me too. If this foreplay was his first act, I was okay with it. In fact, more than okay. I was almost deliriously in heat. This would come to be my favorite position—in his lap and at his mercy. My lips, my nibs, my dick, my balls, my hole were all for him.

Mom did get home late. We heard the garage door, then the sounds of her dropping books and bags on the desk in her rooms. She would surely be coming into the family room within seconds. We pulled away from each other, sitting up, apparently glued to the screen. As she entered, we fortunately could conceal erect dicks in the bulky loose sweats that we had used as pj bottoms. She smiled, convinced that she had been right—I had a bro. Little did she know, I had much more than a bro. We made small talk for a few minutes and the final buzzer sounded. So we gave her our good nights and headed up. To my surprise, Bjorn went to his room, not mine. I was devastated. It was all new. I really didn't know what to expect or what to demand. How could he seduce me like that and then just head off to bed? I was so hard it took a half hour and a jack off before I could sleep.

*********

My arm reached out blindly from the shower for a towel. My eyes were closed and stinging with shower gel. Then someone handed one to me. Bjorn, of course. I guess closed bath doors are meaningless to him. I dried and came out into the room. He was nude, standing at the sink, shaving, and clearly eyeing my semi in the mirror. I was a sucker for him. Anything he wanted. I'm pretty sure he knew this—but I didn't really care. He had me for a pet, as I guess he had had many before me.

"You don't look any worse for the wear. You've just been initiated into the world of sex, Tim. Welcome to my world. This may sound corny. But, it's true. You'll thank me in a couple of weeks. Today is the first day of the rest of your life, boy."

I was really pleased with the prospect, and with a big toothy smile, I remarked, "And I presume you're the one who's going to make that happen."

"Yes, Tim, very definitely yes. I'm going to have help. But, I'm going to become your master, your teacher, your disciplinarian. When I'm done you'll be a mature sexual animal, my wing man, my pet, my fuck-buddy, my toy—whatever I might want that day. You'll have something to say about it--ultimately. But, I want your decision to be based on experience, not fiction."

"Do you understand the concept of a teaser?"

"Of course. Is that you?"

"Oh, I'm many things, sometimes a tease, more often someone who just enjoys life, taking every day as it comes, but with control over my body. And you're probably many things too—certainly a closet sex fiend, apparently a pretty good lover, and absolutely someone I can tease easily. Yesterday I provided your introduction. You blew your cover when you confessed all to me. You're a confused boy sexually. And what American teen virgin wouldn't be with all the crap they feed you? You can't decide your sexual orientation or become a good lover from books—or the internet. It's got to be a practical experience. And I'm going to be your tutor. Aren't you lucky?"

"What the fuck?" Again, I smiled and moved closer to him.

"The last 36 hours were my 'teasing bait'—in those short hours, I have given you a taste of the possibilities: I gave you a hand-job; I blew you—two starters for a maybe-gay boy. Then you had a chance with hetero foreplay with a hot older experienced girl. Incidentally, Shelley and I arranged that. Did you know that Christi is married? With all the folks at that party, you are definitely now considered a bona fide player. An older hot woman, Christi, hanging on you, molded to your hot bod, made sure of that. When you came back down from the loft, everyone knew what had happened. You were totally spent and empty. You were the envy of half the boys in our class—maybe more. Then you had your first fuck. I know you liked it. We could hear you clear over on the other side of the theatre when you came."

"Then there was the oiled naked wrestling (that was Shelley's idea and her idea to film it). Finally, you got to eat a pussy while I finger-fucked you and finally took your cherry. It was fast. It was furious. You were so ready that you pleaded with me to fuck you. Then, last night, I edged you, but didn't relieve your tension. I've hypnotized you, Tim. You're mine. I'm guessing you're a different boy and ready for much more. You've tasted the menu. Now you get to feast for a few weeks or maybe I'll do the feasting."