FIRST RANK

 There wasn't much going on in my local pub called First Rank, which was rare. Maybe too early, maybe too late, or there was an important soccer game on TV, the date of which I hadn't memorized. Anyway, I was doing just fine, the beer was fresh and cool, I was standing at my favorite place, the short part of the L-shaped counter, the whole bar in front of me, behind me the wall, next to me the dashing Kerstin on a bar stool . A few days ago she had passed her examination to become a senior teacher in German and history and now gave me a detailed and detailed report on the regulations for this nerve procedure.

While I let my hand wander around on her thigh, which was unfortunately covered by one of those long, wide summer skirts, I at least realized that she didn't want this test, but had to take it for some reason and that she was suffering terribly had. Every now and then I asked a question, nodded in agreement or shook my head indignantly, Kerstin denied the rest of the conversation. Which was fine with me, because I wasn't quite there. Much more occupied me with the question of how far I could go with my fiddling without causing any bitchy reactions from her. I didn't know Kerstin very well and so far we hadn't had anything together. But what hadn't happened yet could still happen, I've been keen on her since we first met.

After all, until now she had ignored my hand on her thigh in the familiar pattern. It could mean approval, but it could also mean that she was uncomfortable telling me to stop, that she just wanted to talk to me. Well, actually I wanted to talk to her too, just a little different. I made the male decision to take her non-reaction as consent, let my hand wander higher, and since she was enthroned on the bar stool with her legs slightly apart, I had no trouble getting to the delta between her legs. I increased the pressure of my fingers against her pubic and looked deep into her eyes. While she kept talking, she returned my gaze,

I made the victory sign with my index and middle finger to order two more beers from Marcel, the landlord. Then I started to use the newly gained leeway, pulled the skirt up to over Kerstin's knee, pushed my hand under it and worked through the panties where the pleasure center is in all normal women.

Marcel brings the supplies, "Here you go, lady, gentleman!" And trolls back to his taps. Kerstin lights a cigarette, makes a smoke ring, is amazed, "Oh!", Pokes him with the butt, grins at me, toasts to me and we almost empty our glasses. Then she continues with her report on the test harassment. Meanwhile I have overcome the chicanery Slip, which is tiny, and my middle finger in its pleasantly moist crevice. My third middle finger in mine Pants are now in full shape and would like to swap places.

"Two more?" Marcel looks at us questioningly from his tap and lifts two filled Pilsner glasses. "Of course," replies Kerstin, "two more can't hurt." For Marcel this is a clear order and for me too. He puts the pilsner glasses in front of us and I slide two more fingers into Kerstin's vagina. Also a kind of control center, a tap center.

"Wait a minute, I have a good idea, I think," says Kerstin, gets off the stool, fiddles around under her skirt for a moment, pulls her legs down a little and lets a piece of fabric that could be a slip disappear into her handbag. sits down on the bar stool in a good position and pulls her skirt up above her knees. "Women", I think, "Women really have it better. As a man, I would never have come out of my underpants so easily and at this speed in a pub. And anyway, underpants, skirt and pants, what do I do with my disgusting Jonny? "

However, this fundamental question does not prevent me from spontaneously playing around with my fingers on my right hand in Kerstin's now slipless pussy. And then I also have an idea and tell her that with shining eyes. "What kind?" She asks, "shall we go?"
“Nah,” I reply, “turn around a bit on your fucking stool.” She looks at me blankly. So I give her practical tutoring and lift her into the position that I ideally have in mind.
Now she sits on the bar stool with her back to the pub, supports herself with her elbows on the counter, ass and pussy on the edge of the stool. I lean against the wall and look at the whole thing. Kerstin still looks at me blankly, Marcel peers over to see if we want to order anything. I wave away, step between Kerstin's legs and open the zipper of my jeans. Kerstin gets it and stares at me in disbelief for a moment. I determinedly fumble my boner past my underpants and into the smoky pub air, but he doesn't mind at all. Kerstin looks at him extensively. says "feel it first" and lets her hand slide up and down my cock a few times. Clean! I wait for the things to come.

And they come. Kerstin is now fully up to date. She bends my cock down, I'm scared, she breaks it off and shoves it a bit into her pussy. "Has it been approved," she says, "the test turned out to be completely satisfied? Or do you suddenly have concerns?"

I look around the pub again. I don't really have any concerns, and none of the guys who loll around at the bar and at the few tables on the window front seem to be particularly interested in us.

So I allow myself this pleasure channel, push my Jonny, expertly guided by Kerstin, further into her. Wonderful! What a moment! Kerstin also seems very impressed. In any case, she pulls me closer to her by the belt. Such a bar stool is a great invention to fuck, has just the right height and Kerstin can support her feet on the steps. Have the designers also thought of this probably rather rare use? If so, then thanks in an unknown way, if not, also! In any case, for the first time I can understand why this musty pub is called First Rank. At the bottom, parquet, or imitation parquet, on top of the bar stool, first tier.

I'm pretty far into Kerstin and can hardly do anything, neither can Kerstin. Violent movements would be noticed. But first we both enjoy this glorious union, grin at each other and try to make the best of it. I only move my abdomen and push my hard-on in her ***** in very short, gentle thrusts back and forth, supporting myself on her thighs. Kerstin flutters her knees a little or pinches her ass cheeks to add something to the dynamic. Much more is not possible either.

Marcel looks over at us in amazement because our glasses are not empty yet. I give him a quick shake of the head to signal that we don't need his care at the moment. Not only Kerstin and I are cool, the whole situation is just great. There are eleven men and two women hanging around in the pub and maybe dreaming of turning on and hot wax , of juicy figs and steadfast ****** n , their heads may ponder how they will close in the near future can come to a decent orgasm, and Kerstin and I are currently fabricating a wonderful **** right in front of their noses.

In a public bar I push my Jonny back and forth in the juicy fig of a newly minted senior graduate student, and she can't have enough of him in her. Fine beads of sweat glitter on her forehead, I can feel small rivulets of the same material pearl down my back. Although we can hardly move, we are both close to the climax and fight, with faces as relaxed as possible, but doggedly to reach it as quickly as possible. To prevent an interruption due to outside interference. That would be fatal now. I notice how the juice rises in my tail and thrust harder in an uncontrolled manner into Kerstin, whether the other guests in the bar notice something, I don't care at all at this moment. I just want to orgasm now. Kerstin spreads her legs, as far as her position goes, she gets rigid, bites her lip, stares through me with narrowed eyes, I stare back in the same way. The stool tumbles, rumbles two or three times with its front legs on the floor. Fortunately, music is booming! If I get that right, A Hard Days Night from the Beatles. Then the time has come. Finally! I pour her my cocktail and she pours her cocktail. My Jonny twitches in Kerstin's fig, her knees pressing my thighs together like a vice, while we both look at the ceiling, apparently bored. For a moment the whole area freezes into a pub picture by Edward Hopper, only that Hopper left out Kerstin and me in his painting. staring through me with narrowed eyes, I stare back in the same way. The stool tumbles, rumbles two or three times with its front legs on the floor. Fortunately, music is booming! If I get that right, A Hard Days Night from the Beatles. Then the time has come. Finally! I pour her my cocktail and she pours her cocktail. My Jonny twitches in Kerstin's fig, her knees pressing my thighs together like a vice, while we both look at the ceiling, apparently bored. For a moment the whole area freezes to a pub picture by Edward Hopper, only that Hopper left out Kerstin and me in his painting. staring through me with narrowed eyes, I stare back in the same way. The stool tumbles, rumbles two or three times with its front legs on the floor. Fortunately, music is booming! If I get that right, A Hard Days Night from the Beatles. Then the time has come. Finally! I pour her my cocktail and she pours her cocktail. My Jonny twitches in Kerstin's fig, her knees pressing my thighs together like a vice, while we both look at the ceiling, apparently bored. For a moment the whole area freezes to a pub picture by Edward Hopper, only that Hopper left out Kerstin and me in his painting. If I get that right, A Hard Days Night from the Beatles. Then the time has come. Finally! I pour her my cocktail and she pours her cocktail. My Jonny twitches in Kerstin's fig, her knees pressing my thighs together like a vice, while we both look at the ceiling, apparently bored. For a moment the whole area freezes into a pub picture by Edward Hopper, only that Hopper left out Kerstin and me in his painting. If I get that right, A Hard Days Night from the Beatles. Then the time has come. Finally! I pour her my cocktail and she pours her cocktail. My Jonny twitches in Kerstin's fig, her knees pressing my thighs together like a vice, while we both look at the ceiling, apparently bored. For a moment the whole area freezes to a pub picture by Edward Hopper, only that Hopper left out Kerstin and me in his painting.

We just take a deep breath and relax, then the bar door opens and a young blonde walks in with a young black-haired woman, looks around for acquaintances with the typical looking bar, discovers Kerstin and rushes towards us. I suddenly pull my stand out of Kerstin's delight channel and


stow it in my pants in a flash. "Watch out," I hiss, "someone is coming." With presence of mind, Kerstin crosses her knees, drapes her skirt over them and reaches for the cigarette packet. The young blonde is already approaching and beaming "Hi, Mrs. Zielkowski" and shaking her hand. Kerstin, very lady, introduces him to me. "This is Torsten, one of my best in the history course." “Great,” I think, “the woman simply taught her students a good sense of time.

"And Ms. Zielkowski is one of our best teachers," Thorsten politely returns the compliment. "This is Julia," he introduces his companion. Julia, one of those dainty, well-proportioned dolls that you always imagine naked at once, shakes hands with Kerstin and me.

"I have to go to the toilet quickly," said Kerstin, hangs her handbag on her shoulder and disappears. The seat of her stool shines damp. Thorsten and Julia don't pay attention to ordering something to drink. I take out a Tempo handkerchief, blow my nose and casually wipe the seat dry, take a seat.

When Kerstin is back, we chat for a while about school and a theater course that Kerstin might want to set up, then suddenly Kerstin says: “It's too smoke for me here, my eyes are already watering. Come along to me, we can have a nice cup of coffee, or whatever you want. I also have a good French red wine there, and of course Pils. ”Thorsten and Julia enthusiastically agree, I less so, somehow I had imagined the evening would go without the two school bangers.

In New York you would call Kerstin's apartment a loft. It is a huge room, a former factory floor, from which the kitchen, bedroom and bathroom are separated by drawn walls. This is my first time here and I like it, it is factual and clear, but not pretentious or over-ambitious. "Siggi, are you so good and get us something to drink? You can find everything you need in the kitchen. I'll have another pilsner. It's that way into the kitchen". "Will be done," I say and follow her outstretched arm. "I'll also take a PIls", Thorsten adds. "And I'll make the coffee," chirps Julia and paddles after me.

The kitchen is functionally furnished and even tidy. Julia is working on the coffee machine, I take Pils bottles out of the refrigerator and open them. Then we look for and find the can with the coffee powder. This joint action with a subsequent sense of achievement stimulates us to talk about kitchen equipment and we chat. I drink my Pils and have fun taking off this crunchy young thing called Julia in my mind. Julia is sipping coffee in the meantime, but I can't tell whether she's worrying about anything on the side.

"Man, we have completely forgotten Ms. Zielkowski and Thorsten", Julia suddenly realizes, "They are sure to be waiting for their drinks", resolutely grabs the coffee pot and her cup, I take the Pill bottles that I ordered.

The two seem to have forgotten us too. There is nobody in the big room. We put our souvenirs on the central table of the Scandinavian-style sofa, look around and at a little perplexed, think nothing more and continue our lively conversation. Topic: Factory floor renovation. But after a while we feel a bit abandoned and I notice how Julia is getting more and more restless. "Where can they be?" She asks and gets up. I roll my eyes to the ceiling and shrug my shoulders, "I don't know."

Then Julia makes a decisive mistake in her youthful naivete. She goes to the next door, opens it, asks "Thorsten?" I stand behind Julia and watch the spectacle, shaking my head. Thorsten lies between Kerstin's legs, and Kerstin uses her hands to direct his bare first-class ass, which rises and falls regularly. The two are so absorbed in their mess that they don't even notice us, or when they do, they consistently ignore us, which I completely understand in this situation.

I put my arm around Julia, who is still standing petrified, turn her away from them and quietly close the door. Kerstin is an unscrupulous bitch, I think, just unwinds the friend of this harmless girl and kills me with the second **** at night. And wonder what to find worse Before I can decide, Julia breaks out into sobbing, tears pour out of her beautiful dark eyes and she is trembling all over. I feel challenged as a comforter, take her in my arms, hug her tightly to me and mumble words into her black hair that you utter in such situations and that you hope will have a calming effect. "It's okay," "It's not that bad," "It'll be okay" and other idiotic stuff. But it helps, on the one hand. Julia calms down, her trembling subsides, but because of our body heat and her tits on my chest , my hands on her back and her ass I get a hard on.

I don't know how long we stood like that, suddenly Julia lifts her tear-streaked face towards me and offers me her half-open mouth, letting her tongue slide over her lips. I shove my tongue between her teeth and in the next moment I feel like I am attacked. She kisses me with such greed and passion that I choke in surprise. But then I feel her hand between my legs and how she grabs my balls and my ****** through my pantsmassaged. This somehow regains my breath, squeezing one of her tits with one hand and grabbing between her legs with the other. She almost crouches to get them as far apart as possible. Since she is quite a bit shorter than me, this position is uncomfortable for me. So I maneuver her in the direction of a Scandinavian couch.

Julia suspects what I'm up to, throws her back on it like a fury and peels out of her pants and panties with ape-like speed. I've just opened the belt and zipper of my jeans, then she pulls my pants and underpants down to my knees, grabs my stand and shoves it into her mouth. I'm a bit taken by surprise at this pace, but I have nothing against this outburst of passion and I adapt. Grab her between her wide spread legs, slide my fingers into the crevice and further into her hole. It's so wet like she cried not only with her eyes but also with her pussy.

Julia can't go fast enough, she pulls me down on my stand, puts it in her flooded lock and pushes her lap against me demanding. It's fine I think you can get everything I have from me. I'll fuck all the tears out of you. Then at the point in your brain where Thorsten was once, a white spot, ram my Jonny again and again into this seething opening, fuck as if to die. Fired on by the unexpected energy and outbursts of temper of this young woman, she is as if unleashed. Sucks her tongue in my ears, sucks on my lips, bites my shoulder, ratchets my back with her fingernails, pulls on my pubic hair, keeps stammering "Tighter, tighter, tighter!"

And then suddenly she doesn't do anything anymore, just rears her abdomen towards me and comes with an unbelievable force. Discharges the anger and frustration and lust of the last half an hour in long, convulsive sighs. My ass literally flies up and down, my Jonny pounds into her, and then I come too, pump her full of such amounts of juice that the ****** actually come out of her ears ******* * should.

At the same moment I see that the naked Kerstin is standing at the table, and next to her Thorsten with wet eyes. Kerstin rubs Thorsten's stand, and he has a hand on her ass. Now Julia sees the two of them too, tears fall from her eyes again, she stutters: "Thorsten, ach Thorsten", and stretches her arms towards him. I have the unmistakable feeling of being polarized incorrectly, pull my still half-stiff Jonny out of Julia and clear the position. Julia just remains lying there with her arms and legs spread wide and in no time Thorsten has taken my place, put his cock in Julia and the two of them start ramming that even the rather new-looking sofa squeaks.
"Julia, Julia, Julia! "
"Thorsten, Thorsten, Thorsten!"

Somehow I'm bored of the new, young happiness, Kerstin is probably the same. I put my hand on her ass and gently massage her buttocks, Kerstin is palpable in a pleasant way. How the exchange maneuvers are alike! We have nothing more to do here, the two continue to leave the exercise to regenerate their young love happiness, turn away and walk towards the bedroom. Turn into the kitchen beforehand to requisition a bottle of red wine and a bottle of mineral water, then walk through the large room again, let us be inspired by "Thorsten, oh Thorsten" and "Julia, oh Julia", they both still watch take a moment to their jumble and drop us off in the bedroom.
When Kerstin and I sit next to each other on the edge of the bed

"What?", Asks Kerstin back.

"Well, that you absolutely had to incorporate these Primaner ****** ?"

"Did you really have to stick your cock in that primaner pussi?"

"No, not necessarily, but I had almost no other chance after you submitted."

“Siggi, this Thorsten is a great student, but he just gets on my mind infinitely. He adores me, Frau Zielkowski here, Frau Zielkowski there. And he actually, actually asked me if he could carry my bag for me. It's not bearable. He just annoys me with his idolatry. Then we stood there in the big room and he was just talking crap again, how great I would have renovated my factory floor and how great I was, and I just grabbed him between the legs and pissed him off. He froze, at first didn't know what to do and then behaved like all men, most of them at least when a woman grabs between their legs. He just got horny, was a bit ashamed at the beginning, but after I helped a little, he continued to behave like most men. He was just keen on me, or maybe even Julia, but she was just not there, and he was keen on me, on my pussi. And I found the situation favorable to show him that I am a perfectly normal woman. Done, that's it. "

"So you shagged him for educational reasons," I grinned.

"Nonsense with sauce! I shagged Thorsten because I wanted to fuck him, because I was horny with you after the number. And you were with Julia piss off in the kitchen, did I know what you're up to? And besides, these young boys are just wonderfully naive, and potent, if a little hasty. "

"And what about Julia?" I want to know.
"Oh, they're still young, it's only an advantage if they don't get into their illusions so much. When they see how life is really going."

Once a pedagogue, always a pedagogue, I think, take a deep sip from the mineral water bottle and ask: "And what do you think of anything relevant to my upbringing?"

"If you can think of something, I'll think of something too," says Kerstin, plopping back on the bed and lying there. "In the first tier you also thought of something."

I plop down next to her and say: "That was in the first tier, now we are in the box".

"I just want to hear how the two are doing ", Kerstin gets up and quietly opens the bedroom door.
"Julia, Julia, Julia!"
"Thorsten, Thorsten, Thorsten!"
And the couch is still squeaking to itself. Kerstin closes the door just as carefully as she opened it.

"Come cuddle," I say and offer Kerstin the open duvet on.
We lie under the covers and warm ourselves. Like a well-rehearsed pair of lovers, or how I imagine it to be. I put my leg between Kerstin's legs, tight to tight. And I would like to fall asleep now, with Kerstin in my arms. But I just can't, I have to massage these ass cheeks and I do it, and Kerstin massages my ass cheeks, and then I nibble on her tits and Kerstin has her hand on my cock and on my balls and rubs one of my nipples and at some point mine stands Jonny and Kerstin roll on top of me and plant it in their midst, lie on top of me and we both breathe deeply.

"It's good to have a good cock in you", says Kerstin, "without hurry, just like that."

“And having my cock in you is at least as good for you,” I agree with her with full conviction.

“If you can,” says Kerstin, “just take these exams out of me or wash them out. I don't care

either . ” Can't this woman even forget her exams and her noble pedagogical tasks? I ask myself. But then I just forget about the exams, which is not particularly difficult for me. My dick **** t just this ***** , and these ***** **** t me. Can you think of anything better? I am not at the moment! We **** s and **** s and **** s and **** s, slowly, with a lot of time, quickly and hastily and violently, without time. We hear the apartment door slam into the lock, it was probably Julia and Thorsten. It's good that they're finally gone. I take Kerstin, and Kerstin takes me. From the front, from behind, from above, from below, oral, vaginal, banal. At some point Kerstin says: "I can't anymore, it's really great, but I can't anymore."
"I can't either", I say and just lie there as I am, by chance on her, my sore Jonny still bumped in her. Kerstin no longer moves, I no longer move.

"What a night," says Kerstin at some point.

"What a night," I say, bed my head on Kerstin's sweaty shoulder and doze off. I'm lying well.

"Exams", Kerstin murmurs sometime during the night, "Exams are good," rolls away from me and curls up like a fetus. I take her in a little spoon, grab one of her tits, imagine where her anatomy my ****** is now, yawn, and whisper: "Good exams are good". And I'm sure that She's guaranteed not to see her. And shouldn't have seen her at all. Then I pluck a strand of hair out of her strawberry mouth and consider for a moment whether I should stay or go.