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Marie, Hannes, short for Johannes, and I, Matti, short for Matthäus, German for Matthew, first met at a Lutheran youth conference in Augsburg. When we met again in Berlin, all studying theology, we were delighted to be together again, just close friends, theology students without the sexual under- or overtones that other students probably had. This was long ago, decades ago, but students back then also did more than their parents probably thought.
I did too, and probably Marie and Hannes also did, but as students to become Lutheran ministers we didn’t talk about such things, not like some male students of other subjects, who bragged about sex life. “Gentlemen don’t tell,” and “those who talk the most aren’t doing that much.”
Oh, Hannes and I hugged Marie when we met, and she hugged us, but that was all. I would have kissed her if she hadn’t turned her head for a cheek-to-cheek, like she also did with Hannes. After four semesters together, we started discussing the idea of a trip to the Near East, Central Asia, talking about wanting to experience other religions; Islam and Judaism, of course, and religions of smaller groups. We read what we could about them and planned further with the encouragement of our professor for comparative religions.
Our plans took more form, the long break after our sixth semester, but how would we travel? We had calculated to we could travel to Afghanistan and back. Back then, there were no political problems; we just had to have visas and the recommended inoculations. When we all suggested to our parents that we get a camping van, they all chipped in.
I know that Hannes and I didn’t tell our parents that Marie was going to be with us. She had to tell hers that she would be traveling both of us,of course, but as she explained, they just thought it was good that she would have two trustworthy friends to watch out for her. Hannes and I like that, feeling responsible for her. We didn’t talk further about their agreement.
I did wonder about it, but that was back when the “sixty-eight generation” had become an expression in Germany, referring to mixed student communes, “free love,” even kids growing up in them without being sure who their parents were. Had Marie’s parents assumed we theological students were “above” that, or had they tacitly accepted that we weren’t, politely ignoring the implications of their daughter traveling for months with two young men?
We order a camping model of the VW van. We had thought that little bit ahead: the model with a tilt-up top: space to sleep up there and space over the motor, when the seat bank was turned up, space for the three of us. I remember that I was so enthused that our plan was going to be realized, that I didn’t think about any details about how it would be with the three of us. Marie and Hannes felt the same way, apparently, just three long-time friends traveling together for what would be an adventurous trip to foreign places.
When we picked up the van, testing out the equipment, buying bottled gas for the stove, I am sure that the others must have also then wondered about the sleeping arrangement. I figured that Hannes and I could sleep head to foot below and let Marie sleep on the narrower mattress under the tilt-up top. Hannes looked at Marie and said: “You can sleep upstairs.”
I nodded, and she did. Of course, none of us thought or said anything about Hannes’ and my sharing the not much broader mattress. Oh, I did say: “Head to foot,” and they both nodded again.
That was settled. The great adventure could start. We packed the van full, agreeing on things we had forgotten to plan and adding them. Marie was only slightly apologetic, when she stowed away tampons for five months. By then, we did all knew that we had or had had intimate friends in Berlin. My girlfriend thought I was traveling with just Hannes. When I had mentioned that, he had nodded with smirk and said that his girlfriend thought the same. We didn’t, of course, ask Marie if she was still with the boyfriend we knew she had been with in the during the winter.
We set off, the three of us on the bench seat in the front of the van, sharing the driving. The first night, we took turns getting undressed and ready for bed in the van. Marie climbed up and told us we could go to bed. Hannes and I lay down. Okay, enough space head-to-foot. In the morning, the same thing, taking turns, although Hannes and I didn’t have a problem with seeing each other naked.
The same way the next evening, then south of Munich. In the morning, Hannes and I still waited for Marie to change and then each changed in the van. The next morning, he and I grabbed our clothes and changed outside, while Marie changed. We had stopped for the night at a roadside rest area, he and I changing behind the van, where no one could see us. Marie slid back the door of the van, smiling with a nod.
Had she forgotten to put on her bra, I wondered, then admonishing myself that I could have noticed if she had or hadn’t. I tried to forget about that during bahis firmaları the day’s drive. That evening, we parked off the road at a secluded area on the Dalmatian coast and had supper. When it was time for bed, and Hannes and I were outside waiting for her to change, I did glance – I couldn’t help but glance – through the window of the door and saw her taking off her shirt. No bra on her back in the dim light. I felt very wicked for having wanted to look. Had Hannes also looked?
In the morning, I heard the waves gently splashing on the coast. It was a while before we got up. When Hannes and I got up and left the van for Marie to change, closing the sliding door, she clambered down – I was looking again – seeing her in her shorty nightgown. She saw me looking. I blushed. She opened the door with a grin and said:
“Let’s go swimming.”
“No trunks,” Hannes immediately replied.
I didn’t have any either, shaking my head; we had just planned for a trip through Turkey and east. Marie scowled but then shrugged. Then she wrinkled her nose and said:
“Then skinny dipping. Why not? Nothing wrong with that, and … well, then we don’t have to be so fussy about changing.”
While I was trying to come to grips with what she was suggesting, she stepped out of the van in her shorty top and said:
“If we’re going to be together for so long, somewhere we can’t all just take turns, or you two, outside. Why not?”
Hannes and I were standing in our boxer shorts, what we wore at night, which she had seen. I glanced at him, and he at me. Marie said:
“Oh, come on, won’t be the first girl you’ve seen, or boy for me; no big deal.”
She was already reaching down to pull up her top. At least, she was wearing the matching, loosely fitting bottom. Had I imagined that she wasn’t?
“We’d better,” Hannes murmured and began to slide down his shorts. If he could, I had to, and Marie had her top up over her head, her breasts moving as she took it off her arms. “Our” Marie half naked, who had written a paper about chastity in the Bible. There was a lot about non-chastity in the Bible, also about chastity, but I could only remember Joseph’s escaping from Potiphar ‘s wife. Both Hannes and Marie almost had their shorts off.
Shit! Almost grinning at each other as they slowly revealed their pubic hair. That wasn’t just stripping to go skinny dipping. If they were going to; I quickly pulled my shorts down, sure that my cock wasn’t entirely relaxed, but Hannes’ also wasn’t, and Marie’s nipples weren’t. That was sort of a relief, not that my cock thought so. I was relieved when Marie rushed in the water and Hannes I could follow her. Nice cool water; good for our cocks, an excuse for her tight nipples.
We all splashed each other like kids,obviously trying to downplay our being naked. Marie didn’t seem to mind that that we could see her breasts, mind that Hannes I were looking at them. Well, I assumed that he must be too, since they were too nice to avoid noticing. Did her mentioning not being so fussy about changing suggest that we were going to be seeing each other all naked after this?
A few minutes later, we did, of course, she seeing us, but that was all right – the cold water on my cock – except that she said we would have to stop at the next stream to wash off the salt water. Hannes and I pulled on our shorts again, and she, the bottom to her shorty nightgown and a t-shirt. We drove on and stopped at the stream in the next valley down to the Adriatic. She whipped off her t-shirt, and then we were all naked again, just carrying our towels.
While we washed, that was all right, just a little less so, when we all walked back up to the van. I thought Marie would wrap her towel around her waist. It wasn’t big enough to also cover her breasts, but she didn’t, so Hannes and I also didn’t, all naked but without the excuse that we were washing. It was not just “less all right,” when Marie got in the van, leaning down and rummaging around to find something else to put on. She had apparently been suggesting that we would be seeing each other all naked. Did she know that we couldn’t just see her buttocks when she leaned down like that?
We all got dressed and made breakfast. While we were eating in the van, she said:
“That was nice. Hope you two didn’t mind.”
Hannes shrugged and looked at me with wry expression. I replied:
“I guess not, if you didn’t. Kind of surprised us.”
Hannes nodded, agreeing with me with wry smile. Marie remarked:
My friend and I once went skinny dipping with another couple, back when we were still in school. It was sort of dare, but we all enjoyed it, and nothing happened, so I thought: why not? And like I said, it seemed a little foolish trying to be so private, when we’re going to be living together for weeks.”
Hannes and I agreed. I thought he must also have a new impression of Marie, the theology student who had written about chastity in the Bible. When that occurred to me, I suddenly wondered if she had chosen kaçak iddaa the topic out of a deeper personal curiosity.
We set off again. In the evening, she and we were a little discreet when undressing, not really looking and not facing each other. Yes, it was easier, no big thing, in the morning the same way, even when she washed at the basin in the in the van with the door open. I knew she was also washing between her legs, but didn’t look.
Our more liberal attitude also made roadside “pit stops” easier. They had been easy for Hannes and me, since we just had go around the van or in the bushes, stopping where Marie could use a toilet. Now she said that she could also go in the bushes, and did, sometimes smirking at us over a low bush as she squatted down.
Before we got to Greece, we went skinny dipping again, now really no big thing, and we were more open about seeing each other naked, sometimes all talking to each other while she or one of us washed. Of course, when we parked at a camping site, we weren’t like that, using the showers and toilets.
Then one morning at breakfast in Greece, east of Athens, she suddenly asked:
“Do I have to sleep up there all the time?”
After a surprised moment of silence, Hannes said what I had been thinking:
“You want to sleep with one of us?!”
“I didn’t say THAT,” she replied with a grin, then explaining:
“I just thought, since I’m smaller, that it would be more comfortable than you two being crowded together.”
Hannes and I looked at each other with funny expressions. She was right about our being a little crowded together, bumping each other sometimes when we turned over, but if that happened with her? Any time I had been in bed with a girl, my cock had known it. In fact, it felt like it even knew that we were just talking about it.
“I don’t know,” I murmured.
“I don’t either,” Hannes agreed.
“Just a suggestion,” Marie murmured in an apologetic tone, and we talked about our sightseeing for the day.
We spent the day sightseeing, reading our guide books and making notes about the old Orthodox churches we visited, hoping they would be useful for our comparative religion course. After a dinner in a modest restaurant, sharing a flagon of wine, we drove on until we found a secluded spot to spend the night. I thought we all were a little more circumspect than usual as we got ready for bed, the last thing always being tilting up the seatback to make the bed Hannes and I used. Marie usually climbed up under the tilt-up roof when one of us did that, since space to stand was then smaller. She was already ready for bed in her shorty and loose bottom, standing outside the van. She looked at us with a shrug and asked:
“You still don’t know?”
We both knew immediately what she was talking about. Hannes looked at me. He must have also been wondering all day about her suggestion. She was still looking at us, waiting for a reply.
“If Hannes wants to, I’ll sleep upstairs,” I said and immediately began to climb up, not waiting to see his expression.
“But then you have to tomorrow,” I heard him reply, wondering how that sounded for Marie.
“Okay,” I agreed, suddenly recognizing that I could do something I hadn’t done since we were on the road, a very good and necessary “something,” especially since we had started being naked together, and most especially now, before I would be sharing the lower bed with Marie. I heard them getting on the lower bed. Hannes murmured:
“Should have washed my feet.”
“You should have,” Marie agreed with a chuckle, adding:
“Good reason to stay away from them.”
I envisioned then lying head-to-foot, wondering if Marie had actually seen his feet. We all said goodnight as usual, and I held my already stiffening cock. At least, I could do that without shaking the van or making any noise – if I could control myself.
It was difficult, and envisioning Marie naked, fantasizing about what could happen in bed with her – what might happen with her and Hannes there? – convinced me that what I was doing wasn’t going to be much help, when I was in bed with her. On the contrary, thinking about it was just going to make it worse. But it was too late to change my fantasies. And now, what was I going to do with it all, up and down my chest and stomach? The only thing I could, wipe it up and lick my fingers. So that’s how it tasted? Did Marie know that? Don’t think about her, and not like that! My girlfriend did, the one before last, also just licking her fingers. I could understand that she didn’t like it. So much for that. I found a little in my belly button and then hoped that there wouldn’t be any telltale dried spots on me in the morning. I fell asleep wondering if Hannes had more control of his cock than I did, thinking that he could take care of that the next night.
In the morning, I was at first surprised to find myself under tilt-up roof, then, of course, remembering why and that Marie and Hannes were in bed together, thinking then that I kaçak bahis should let them get up first, however they had been lying together. Marie had always let us get up first. Did she know about guys’ morning woodies? They hadn’t been a problem for Hannes and me, just silently chuckling about them as we got up and went outside before she could see them. Hannes’ problem, if he had one. Mine too; I did. Would Marie see it? She could, if she looked, since I could only climb down facing them.
I called down “Good morning” and waited for a few moments to let them move so that I wouldn’t compromise them, if they didn’t want me to see how they might be lying. I didn’t hear any rustling, and called down again: “Don’t look, Marie.” Hannes chuckled, understanding my plight. I tucked my cock in my boxer shorts and climbed down.
Of course, my body was visible before I could see them. She was looking, grinning and chuckling, when I was down where I could see them. Hannes chuckled again. She looked up at me and said:
“I know. My friend explained that it wasn’t because he was thinking about me.”
“Hope you weren’t disappointed,” I managed to joke.
She smirked and replied:
“I shouldn’t have been.”
“I’d better go too,” Hannes remarked and flipped his side of the sheet over Marie and began to crawl back.
We both escaped the van, chuckling as we waited for our woodies to let us piss. He glanced over at me with a shrug and said softly:
“It was all right; she was right, more space.”
“I hope so,” I replied: “That didn’t sound nice, your telling me that I have to tonight.”
“She didn’t think so either, whispering so that you couldn’t hear.”
We started peeing, just facing away from the van, then surprised when Marie suddenly spoke close behind us: “I have to, too.”
Had she been watching us, seen our streams? Of course, she also had to go, whether she had or not she had seen them. She disappeared somewhere. We had shaken our cocks and stuffed them back in our shorts, when she returned, holding her shorty bottom in her hand, grinning and then saying: “Well, that too, if we all have to go. Got to wash.”
It was too obvious where, and she didn’t make any pretense of hiding it. She stepped in the van and stripped off her shorty. Did she really give us glance, as she pumped water in the basin? A vehicle passed on the road, maybe ten meters from where we had parked, luckily so that the open door of the van was away from the road. At the sound of it, Marie froze, holding her hands over her breasts and pussy. Lovely! When the vehicle had driven on, she shrugged with an almost apologetic expression and said:
“All right, if you both see me.”
“And you, us,” Hannes replied, to my great surprise, and took off his shorts.
What had gotten into him – something that happened in the night?! Yeah, well, sure, she could see us, had plenty of times already, but he didn’t have to say that. He had said “us.” I also took off my shorts, glad that I had masturbated the night before. What had he done, had they done? His cock also didn’t look aroused. This all wasn’t necessary, also Marie’s letting us watch her wash pussy, and we both did. Thank goodness, she was tactful enough to not glance over at us. If she had, it could only have suggested that she wanted us to think about it – the only way guys could. But she was letting us watch her, and had told us before that it was all right for us to see her.
“Our” Marie, class expert on chastity, with her name, that of the Virgin Mary, even though we knew that she wasn’t a virgin. I suddenly remember that there could be spots from my orgasm on my chest and stomach. Yes, I thought I recognized a couple, and rubbed them. Were Hannes and I also supposed to wash for her to watch? Did she want to see us wash our cocks? They weren’t aroused – very surprisingly – but, like most Germans, we weren’t circumcised; our washing them could be a little suggestive, pulling our foreskins back. Did she want to see that? She didn’t need to, must have already, if a friend had told her about morning woodies.
Was I too embarrassed by all my speculation that my cock wasn’t finding it arousing? Better so; it couldn’t be because I had my first orgasm in ten days while fantasizing about Marie, who was now washing her breasts and armpits. Did she know how attractively that made her breasts move? How could Hannes have been in bed with her and kept his hands off her? Or hadn’t he?! But then they must have; a couple couldn’t entirely mask that they had been intimate. And if they had been, how she was washing herself didn’t need to be for both of us to enjoy, but Hannes also was. If they had, he should be a little upset by her demonstrating “her charms” to me. Even the best of friends would feel possessive of a girl he had just slept with.
That all went through my head in the short time she was washing herself. Then she smiled at us and said: “Bath’s free,” and found her towel.
Didn’t Hannes have to wash his cock, like I had to wash mine and the spots? He nodded at me to follow her. Didn’t he have to, or had he seen my spots? Marie stepped down from the van, unselfconsciously drying herself. She tactfully again didn’t watch me and Hannes wash.
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