Vienna Dee


Western civilization at last. Back from the apex of the pyramid, the checkpoints of Beirut, the mysteries of Istanbul, finally across the Iron Curtain into a "free" country again.

Vienna, Wien. Where east meets west. All over the walking streets street artists chalk the masters: Rafael, Michelangelo, you know. It keeps that old world class alive. I'd never seen that before. And certainly not in such great number. It seemed that the streets were an ever-changing gallery of the world's greatest paintings. Nice, really nice!

I'd been practising my solo flute show all the time I'd been in Africa and the Middle East, and although I thought it would be pretty decent on the street, I had yet to actually try it out.

I ran into this Australian guitar player, and after he'd finished his pitch, I tried out my brand-new-YooHoo-Look-at-ME-Mr-Seven's-magic-flute-show. At the end, I pretend to be balancing it, but secretly I have my middle finger inside - so when I turn it upside down as if I'm going to drop it, it just hangs there. Big deal, huh?

I made a few coins, which was heartening, and then the guitar player did another half hour or so. He asked me if I would bottle for him and I said sure.

Somewhere around his third song, this little brunette comes and sits down on some steps nearby. Naturally, after she'd been there a while I was obliged to ask her if she'd like to contribute to the feed-a-guitarist fund. And naturally, she complied.

She was clearly making eyes at the guitar player, and I was a bit envious because I thought she was really cute. But when I mentioned to the guy after his set that it looked like the girl fancied him and still hadn't left, he said "Hey, look man. I got a REAL old lady. You can have that one."

Well, she hadn't made eyes at ME! Or at least as far as I could tell. When the guitarist packed off in a hurry, I figured "What the hell", and walked over to her just as it looked she was about to leave too.

When I said "Hi!" she brightened right up. We went to a little cafe nearby and warmed our hands against the front of the cold war. The next thing you know, I was telling her that I had nowhere to stay in town, and she invited me back to this place some guy was letting her crash at, but it was OK 'cause he was out of town or something.

Once we got back to her place, I started feeling a bit shy. She was acting sort of reserved herself. But there was only one bed and it was a fairly small one.

When she invited me to sleep, I explained to her that I hadn't been with a woman in over three months, and I wasn't too sure if I remembered what I'm supposed to do.

She said that she hadn't had a man in over six months, because she'd been with a girl the hole time. One-upmanship!

Of course, I didn't believe her for one minute. But I can do anything that her lezzy girlfriend could, and well, when you're laying next to a cute girl, both of you starkers, nature does have a way of reasserting its primal values.

Oh, wow, it felt so good sliding slowly up inside her. After sooo long too. Seven was in Seventh Heaven. We did it every which way, I was making up for lost time. And the thing that amazed me, was my own control! I figured I'd be off and over in a half a second, but ooh she was so fine I just kept in at that special space where the pleasure meter is reading maximum, but not going into overload. And on and on ...

I made sure that she got herself a good orgasm before I blasted three months worth of pent up passion into her tight juicy deepness.

Lying there spent she said "That was wunderbar. I think I might go back to men." Fine by me. What's she doing licking titties anyway, when she could be sucking my cock. Lesbians, indeed!

The next morning I tried to make some more money on the street while she ran errands. When we met up she said she'd bottle for me, but it's pretty hard to get a crowd playing the flute, I'll tell you.

In the evening, she wanted to make a meal for us. Great! We bought some stuff at the store and took it back "home".

Wierdest thing, there was only one chair for the dining room table. But she said "No problem. We can both sit on the one chair together."

She had me sit down and then she sat on my lap. And we proceeded to eat our dinners with knife and fork. It was kind of hard to get around her with the silverware, and then it was getting kind of hard having her butt cradled there, and before you know it, it wasn't just KIND of hard any more - it got really hard.

I slid down her tights she was wearing to reveal her firm buns. No resistance whatsoever. I figured I'd see what she was thinking and slid my one hand down into her muffslit.

Oh, God! She was dripping wet! This is what she'd planned all along! I pulled my trousers down to the knees, and I was still holding a forkful of pasta in one hand as I entered Dee's dee-licious inner sanctum.

We was "home cooking". Uh-Huh. It soon became clear that engaging in sex decreases the appetite. So take Dr 7's advice: "If you wanna lose weight, just have sex three times a day at mealtime!" Ask any laboratory monkey, which he'd rather have: food or sex, and my answer will always be the same - "Food". Yeah, sure.

Although I can't really remember anything about what was on the menu that evening, that was certainly the most memorable meal of my life.

After we'd "licked the platter clean", she told me that she wanted me to try on some really sexy trousers. I didn't know if she was going to attempt something kinky, like making me dress up like a dyke or lord knows. But the trousers were pretty ordinary. Black and kind of slinky. I hated them instinctively. She stood back from me to get a getter view, and after an appraising look she decided she ought to take them off me.

She got down and started slowly pulling the trousers down. Her face was so close to my crotch I imagined I could feel the heat of her breath right through the fabric.

I wasn't wearing any underwear, and the first thing that appeared was the root of my snake in the grass. The lower she pulled my trousers, the more of it she could see. At first, she didn't realize that I'd just gotten a spontaneous hard-on. She had me there, not quite pulling the pants down far enough for my glans to pop out, but almost. She admired the veins standing out against the flexed muscle half-trapped inside those trousers.

Of course it would've broken the spell if I'd reached down there and pulled my ownself out of that bent position which would have then immediately twanged into a full penile salute. She touched a vein which looked as if it were about to burst any second. Then Dee on her knees said "See? I told you they were sexy trousers".

That's the way I like to be sucked best. Standing solid, with her down there, right in front, my fingers in her hair. What a wonderful surprise. She looked deeply into my eyes, with her lips squarely around as much of my peter as she could choke.

I tried to pull it out of her mouth at one point, so that we could make love again. But she wouldn't let go of me. She started sucking me furiously. OK, have it your way. I didn't waste any time dropping my second load. My warm juices decorated her lips and beyond. She got so hot then, I couldn't believe it! She was panting and heaving heavier than me! Talk about starved for love!

Sure beats an after-dinner mint, anyway.

Look at the time! Suddenly, we're getting dressed and rushing out the door. We're supposed to meet her "landlord" down at this bar to give him back the key.

This bar was amazing! Really 19th century refined elegance, beautifully kept up. Vienna must have really been some place special back in its heyday when it was the world capital of music and art!

At first I was kind of apprehensive about meeting this guy, seeing as how I reckoned he must fancy this girl at least a bit if he's going to let her sleep at his place, right?

Anyway, there didn't seem to be a trace of jealousy in him (lucky for me!) We played billiards and I managed a couple of good games.

We all got drunk and closed the bar. Then Dee caught up with some guy who was standing near a taxi and managed to talk him into taking us home and footing the whole bill! She'd never seen him before in her life. Pure art! What a hustler!

When we got back, all three of us ended up in bed together. I was fucked out for the day and I announced that I couldn't get into it. That blew it for them, because she said she wasn't really interested in him, and that it was me she wanted to be with.

In retrospect, I should have just got up as if I was going to the bathroom, and stayed away a long time to let them get into it and have their fun. It wasn't that I was jealous, believe me. I'd had my quota and there was just no more power to the main thrusters, Captain Kirk!

Anyway, I blew it for this guy, and the next day we were out.

I was traveling west, and the next town on the itinerary was the town of Linz. She said that she wanted to come with me. Great! I'd heard that there were some good bars to busk in Linz and we decided to take the train because it was so cheap.

The train wasn't due to leave for another hour and a half, so I figured I could use part of that time by taking a shower in the public washrooms at the station there. She decided to take a shower too. We paid our money and once we'd got past the attendant, we saw that there were no "mens" and "womens" sections. Each shower was a cubicle unto itself and the idea was that you were supposed to undress and dress inside your individual stall.

There was nobody in there but us two. None of the other showers were running. We turned on two showers, but both got into the same one. The other shower was on just in case somebody came snooping around.

The best way of making love in the shower, (and especially with a girl that's kind of petite) is to enter from behind, of course.

While the soapy suds and the strong hot stream of water massaged us, I slathered my hands up and down her body, over her breasts, around her thighs, still rhythmically and insistently plunging deeper ever deeper inside her.

She starts moaning and sighing in ecstasy, getting louder and louder. I'm thinking "Hey, shut the fuck up! You're gonna get us busted, Jesus!" The more I humped her the louder she groaned, with her whimperings echoing increasing in volume the sound bouncing against the cold green walls of the entire room.

I had to put a stop to that shit and fast! However, I wasn't going to pull out till I'd got my load. I shot it, got the hell out and put on my clothes. She looked a little disappointed, but no orgasm in the world is worth getting arrested for!

Once in Linz, we ended up at the "Bad Cafe". That's where all the artists hung out and we hooked up with Harold. Harold the Artist, that is.

I played flute for the people, then she asked them for money, and after the "show" Harold invited us over to his table. Once the bar had closed, we ended up at a big party over at Harold's studio. He had paintings all over the place, and between the paint fumes, smoke, and beer we were in another world entirely.

As the late-night party people shuffled off into the early morning haze, Dee and I found ourselves all alone on the one mattress amongst the funky junk littering the atelier. While we were making love I told her how much I liked her and how I was beginning to feel.

Love? Did I say the wrong thing?

The next morning was the last time I ever saw her. Harold and a bunch of people were going up to some mansion for a party and she went with them. I decide to stay in town to try to make some more money busking.

Linz was good to me. I was making reasonable money, and I'd hooked up with Hermann, a guitar player friend of Harold's, who'd convinced me to stick around for a while.

Pretty soon I got invited up to the mansion. The three of us, Harold, me and Hermann went up to visit the "master".

This guy must've been really rich. He had a place like the Addam's Family. Beautiful grounds and a huge old house with all kinds of rooms full of antiques strewn about. The "master" was an artist, too. And the walls were full of paintings that he'd done. There was a huge one that he'd done of himself sitting in a big plush throne-like armchair with his fingers dripping liquid color Dali-style.

He also had every musical instrument known to man. He'd collected them from all over the world, and could play every one.

The whole house kind of had a morbid, creepy kind of feel, but I know that was intentional. The "master" was your typical eccentric. The most frightening thing about him was that he looked so much like me I felt I was looking in a cracked mirror. Or was it the other way around?

After we'd blown up a few chillums, a hit of acid materialized. "This is for you". Man, it had been a long time since I'd done any psychedelics, but away we go!

In what seemed like minutes, my coherency level dropped to zero, and the world was wrapped in a swirl of ever changing colors. As I reveled in the sights, sounds and feel of the hallucinogenic waves passing through me, with rushes of strange and exotic pattern multi-facted tapestries of light, letting myself be carried away on the riptide of galaxies of crystalline transcendental flow consciousness merging with the oneness of the very universe itself, the "master"'s wife comes in.

This woman looks like a miniature Morticia with a head full of fire. She takes one look at me, and shoots me deep in the heart with her evil eye. If looks could kill! The vibe in the room turns into tensile ice, I'm too stunned to even say "Hello".

They all start talking in some German that I don't understand, in tones that make me feel very unwelcome. After a short eternity, she glares at me again, shudders with disgust and dramatically exits.

I begin to wallow in an internal reverie, in which I feel that everyone is snickering at me for my deficiencies and angry at me for not being able to be the life of the party.

At some point during the night, I wandered into the conservatory. Here there were more huge plants than one could have ever believed possible to fit into one glass room. A veritable jungle, and as I ventured into this mass of unkempt overgrowing greenery, a huge fucking parrot damn near bites off my nose! I didn't even see the frigging bird until it was already attacking me! I almost had a heart attack! Why don't people warn you about those kinds of thing?

As you know, it's impossible to sleep on acid, and so we all jabbered nonsense, abused various musical instruments, and in general engaged in totally disconnected activities until we all finally had to revert to fetal position for five or six hours while the remnants decayed.

The next morning the "master" was nowhere to be found. We drove back into town, completely twisted from the night before.

It wasn't until about a week later that I went out to the mansion again. The "master" was a bass player in his secret identity, and we were all going to have a jam session over at a friend of the guitar player's. We had to stop by the mansion to pick him up.

The house conformed pretty much to my LSD tinged recollections. This time I was straight though, and while the guys were loading the "master"'s bass and amp into the car, I found myself sitting in their "living" room face to face with his wife, the red-headed Morticia.

She says "I want to ask you a question". Here I didn't even know she could speak English. The way she said it, I had the feeling that something really important was on her mind.. This woman had scared me to death the first time I'd met her, and the anticipation of whatever heavy trip she was going to lay on me made me squirm in my chair.

Never in a million years could I have anticipated what came out of her mouth next.

"You know that girl?"

"What girl?"

"Wasn't she your girlfriend?

"What girl?"

"That one that came up here a couple of weeks ago with Harold?"

"Oh, THAT girl. What about her?"

"Well, wasn't she your girlfriend?"

"No, not really. I met her playing music in the street."

"And you don't know what she did when she came to our house?"

Of course, I didn't. I hadn't seen Dee since. The story unfolded. They'd had a major party, and wifey had gone to bed. In the middle of the night, she'd heard a sound and then went downstairs to see what it could be.

And there she caught her husband, the "master", and Dee fucking like bunnies. She went on to say that they have a child together and had been married for years, and that since she had thought that I was somehow tied up in this whole escapade, she had blamed ME for the girl's indiscretion.

Ah, so THAT explains it! Well, when all is said and done I'm still glad that Dee went back to men.
copyright 2005 Jeff Brent

If you've found your way to this page from a Search Engine link,
please click here to enter Jeff Brent's Web Site.
(This link will take you to the entire web site.)