Thursday, February 26, 2009
A Spicy Gasthaus Interlude
Today our hot-el erotica wordsmith is the musical and poetic Craig Sorensen, who's going to give up a sneak peek of his new novel. That's a peep through the keyhole all writers are willing to risk a backache for... and it's just in time for the arrival of the cocktail weiners wrapped in pretzel dough. Watch out, that mustard's spicy! So without further ado, here's Craig....
First thanks to Donna for inviting me to muse on the sexiness of hotels, and for being the first to present a taste of my book, Augsburg Diary.
This story is set in a German US Army barracks in 1980. There is a healthy dose of fact in this book. For one, I was indeed stationed at Field Station Augsburg from August of 1980 to August of 1982.
Another irrefutable fact about life in the Army in Germany around 1980 is that stereo equipment and music collections were important status symbols, especially among the men. The gear was cheap at overseas Px (Post Exchange) stores, and some of the huge stereos were almost comical in their contrast to the small barracks rooms they occupied.
Another fact was the high failure rate of marriages. I don't know statistics, but I knew a lot of folks in the barracks who were carried the title: "Ex."
Through it all, a Gasthaus could be a great respite from Army life. I grew to love die Gasthäuser, both as a place to get a drink (or two, or three, or...), and as a place to spend a night (or two, or three, or...) Often they are like a cross between a Bed and Breakfast and a Hotel, such as the one in the excerpt I'm sharing, which is based on a place I stayed at in the town of Zweibrucken in early 1981.
Aimee and Ron are just such a divorced couple from Augsburg Diary. When handsome Ron is about to be rotated back to the states, he talks his ex-wife into joining him for dinner at a Gasthaus which rents rooms upstairs. It turns out he has a bit more on his mind than the köstliches Pfeffersteak!
I hope you'll enjoy this exclusive sneak-preview of my novel.
Be sure and tip your bellboy (or bellgirl, as the case may be.)
And now, a spicy sampling of Augsburg Diary.
The small Gasthaus room had no bathroom - just a sink on one side right next to an old dresser with a simple lamp atop it, a nightstand next to the small, double bed with a matching lamp and two small arch backed chairs.
The bathroom, with its bathtub and small wall mounted water heater, stood twenty paces down a narrow hall.
Aimee studied the old, vine motif wallpaper and sighed. Ron removed his jacket, exposing the back of his mint green shirt with glossy gold rank insignia on the collars. He loosened his crisp black tie and pulled the loop over his head then hung it on the small coat hanger to the side of the mirror. He removed his shirt deliberately and turned back to Aimee. She remained fixed. The sparse evening light from the eight-pane window cast over the bed. Her fingers curled to the hem of her dress. Ron approached and reached around her shoulders. Slowly, she raised her arms under his and gripped his thick shoulder muscles. His arms crushed her full breasts to his broad chest and she got that wonderful, breathless feeling. But she wanted to ask why they were doing this, with him so close to leaving.
“So, how did you find this place?” Sweat evaporated, cooling Aimee’s skin on the warm late night.
Ron’s fingers traced her stomach and inside her hips the way he always had after they made love. “Nice, isn’t it.” He pressed his thigh tight to her soaked pubic hair.
Aimee nodded. “Mmm.”
Ron’s right arm circled her neck. His left rested in the crease of her groin. “It’s great to be with you again, Aimee.” His middle finger dipped inside her. His thumb began to swirl around her clit. She’d had two orgasms already, and the long nap between them was deep and divine. The whole evening had been remarkable, even for Ron, who had always been a good lover.
She raised her hips into his hand. His bare ring finger dipped inside.
“You know, Aim?”
“I’ve got a new Teac reel to reel.”
“S’nice.” Her hips rose and fell in time as his index finger joined in, and he curled all three inside her. She fought for breath at the deep sensation. She reached between his legs. His cock was hardening again.
“So I can play the tapes we recorded on the ReVox.”
“Mmm.” He leaned over her chest and took her thick pink right nipple in his mouth. His cock was getting harder. The tingle of her nipple shot down through her waist like an electric shock. It was so powerful that it hurt a little. It felt heavenly.
“It sounds real good with my old stereo at low volumes.”
She thought of that tape. He’s going to ask me back to his apartment—the apartment we once shared. She quickly subjugated her mixed feelings. Her voice was disjointed: “Nnh. Oh.” The oh was half exclamation, half reply. His cock was as stiff as it had been the first time they’d made love in the Gasthaus room. But rather than sate it, he knelt between her legs and kissed her clit his fingers curled in and out. She gasped. Eating out was something Ron rarely did; he wasn’t particularly good at it, but the mere fact that he was doing it, while his hard on raged with an insistence that usually demanded immediate satisfaction led toward another orgasm. He rubbed the flat of his tongue over her clit inarticulately. Its roughness and the heat of his breath was enough. Aimee was stunned when her waist clenched through a gentle orgasm.
Ron’s face appeared like a hungry sunrise. He crawled up from between her outstretched legs and eased his cock inside her. “Maybe we could trade stereos,” he whispered. “I mean, I’m not in the barracks, don’t need to keep it down, you know?”
Aimee’s hands and feet tingled. She wanted to push him off her and demand he take her back to the barracks. She didn’t know cars, but she knew stereos, and the ReVox she had bought for their apartment was worth three times his old stereo, even with the new Teac, which didn’t hold a candle to the ReVox.
But it wasn’t even that.
He gripped behind her knees and pressed them to her chest and her breath escaped. His thick cock felt so good as it reached its apex inside her. He compressed her like a wrecked car in a crusher. She fought for breaths in quick swells at the small decreases of pressure while he pumped. Heavenly.
She had indeed bought the ReVox system for Ron. But after suffering the embarrassment of walking in on him screwing a willowy redhead doggy-style on their bed, not once but twice, it was one of the few things she had taken after the divorce.
Ron kissed her deeply. The taste of the beer he had just finished was slightly effervescent and blended with the taste of her well-lubed vagina on his lips. He lay his head next to hers, his nose next to her ear. “I love you, Aimee.” He slowed his stroke, his fingers curled to her clit and she felt the twinges of orgasm yet again. She’d never had so many orgasms in one sitting.
Fuck you, Ron. But she’d never say the word fuck. “I—uh—I’ll think—uh—about it.”
He kissed her deep again and she felt the fresh orgasm pulse down her waist.
I know, we all want more! I'm going to go order some more beer, in the meantime, get ready for a Friday motel frolic with Neve Black--it's quick, cheap and guaranteed to put a smile on your face!