Affair of a Foreign Nature

Chapter 5

South Tyrol Discoveries

By and © Hans Schrieber

After saying grace, we all began digging in. The table was set nice with fancy china and glass goblets and everything. We even had linen napkins. Mrs. Baumgartner had gone to a lot of work to make our welcoming dinner very special.

She made wienerschnitzel and sauerkraut. The wienerschnitzel is a breaded veal cutlet with delicious gravy poured over it. "It originated in Austria and South Tyrol," explained Frau Baumgartner to us. My favorite thing was the spaetzele. It's kind of like chewy noodles with creamy white gravy over them. She also made these amazing dumplings and a long red sausage she called a wuerstchen. I didn't think I would like sauerkraut, but it was really good the way she cooked it. It had chunks of bacon in it.

"I thought wienerschnitzel was a hot dog," John said as he devoured the last piece of his breaded veal.

"No, zat's just ze stupid fast food chain in America. It's not a hot dog at all," said Karl.

"Mutti, ich moechte mehr weisse sosse auf mein Wuerstchen," requested Maria.

I looked at Karl and he translated, "she wants more creamy white sauce on her sausage." John and I both immediately ducked our heads and stifled a laugh. Seeing our reaction, Karl realized what he had translated and how it sounded and joined us in an uncomfortable snicker. His parents just looked confused by it all and shrugged it off.

"Thank you so much," I complemented, "everything is really delicious. I'm so full."

Frau Baumgartner beamed appreciation for the complement. "You must have room for dessert."

"Oh, I don't think I can," I said patting my full stomach, "I'm stuffed."

Karl's mom looked at Karl who explained, "That means 'er ist Satt.'"

"Ach, schade. It's a birthday cake for you, David," Frau Baumgartner said, looking disappointed, "I made a special German cake for you. It's called a Schwarzwalder Kirschkuche."

"A what?" I laughed.

"It means Black Forest Cherry Cake," explained Karl.

"Mmm, sounds delicious, but maybe we can take it back to our villa and eat it later," I suggested. Karl agreed that would be a good idea and convinced his mom to put the cake into a carrier for us.

John's father leaned across the corner of the table and kissed his wife and said, "Meine wunderbare Frau, zat dinner was Balls!"

Karl spewed his last bite of spaetzele out onto his plate and the table and Heinrich clapped both hands over his mouth to control his laughter. John and I stared at each other wide-eyed. Herr and Frau Baumgartner looked confused.

Karl regained his composure and began explaining in German. I picked up on a few words like hoden and eier and slang and then his parents' expressions changed at the same time as they got it. Frau Baumgartner clucked her tongue and shook her head giving me the look but with a little grin. Herr Baumgartner shook his finger at me and said, "Du bist ein Spitzbuben."

Karl laughed and translated, "He said, 'you're a naughty boy. But don't worry, they're not mad. Actually, they're a little amused by you."

John leaned over and whispered in Karl's ear. Karl nodded and said, "Ach, ja. Vati, can we have a snowboard instructor for John in ze morning? He is a beginner rider."

"Hmm, I am not sure we can easily arrange zat. Ze Prrrime Minister and his grrrandchildren are coming tomorrow and zey have arranged for lessons in ze morning." John's countenance fell. "But," Herr Baumgartner continued, "he has only one grrrandson und ze rrrest are grrranddaughters, und if he doesn't mind, perrrhaps John can join in wiz ze boy's lesson."

"It's okay if it doesn't work out. I don't want to be any problem," John said.

"No prrroblem," Herr Baumgartner assured him, "Just meet me at nine o'clock at ze lodge und I will see what I can do." John brightened back up.

"Vati," piped up Heinrich, "you said I should try and be a friend for ze Prime Minister's grandson, so could I stay at ze villa with Karl und zen I could go snowboarding wiz zem und help teach John?"

I was sure Karl was about to object at having his little brother butting in on his guests, but before Karl could complain, Herr Baumgartner clapped his hands and said, "Wonderful, wonderful idea. Ja, you may do zat." Karl shrank back in his chair, apparently not allowed to argue against his father's decision.

We moved into the living room and Frau Baumgartner poured coffee for Herr Baumgartner and herself. She also poured a cup for Karl and me. She hesitated, then poured glasses of juice for Heinrich, Maria and John. John politely accepted his apple juice, but I could tell he didn't like being relegated to child status and was jealous of me getting coffee. I watched closely as Karl put two teaspoons of sugar and a splash of cream into his cup. I followed suit and stirred it slowly turning it a creamy brown color. I sipped slowly at the hot brown liquid. I'd never tasted coffee before. I liked the bitter sweet flavor and warmth of it on my tongue.

We chatted about America and South Tyrol and their contrasting differences. The juice drinkers contributed little to the conversation and Maria asked permission to eat the candy I had given her. She was delighted by it. When I asked about why South Tyrol was part of Italy, even though everyone spoke and acted like Germans, John paid closer attention.

Herr Baumgartner was delighted to explain how the Romans conquered the region in 15 B.C. In the 5^thcentury, it was taken over and ruled by the Goths. They were overthrown in the middle of the 6^thcentury by the Langobards who annexed it into the Kingdom of Italy. This lasted until the Napoleonic wars. With the fall of Napoleon in 1805, the region was turned over to the Bavarian counts and the German influence took over. From that time on, there was a mixture of Germans and Italians but mostly Germans.

Prior to World War I and afterward, the Italian army occupied South Tyrol and President Woodrow Wilson allocated South Tyrol to Italy in the peace agreement, which he later regretted after he learned the majority of the people were German speaking. Because of the mountainous region and the alliance between Mussolini and Hitler, South Tyrol was kept mostly out of the fighting of World War II. When the US 88^thInfantry marched into Tyrol, they discovered massive amounts of precious artifacts and treasures that had been stockpiled there for safe keeping and to hide them from the allies. Among the things found were railcars loaded with gold bars, tons of silk, the Italian crown jewels, and many works of art looted from galleries around Europe.

Following World War II, the allies elected to leave it a part of Italy, however there was much dissension between the Italians and Germans of the region. This fact, together with the arrival of new Italian-speaking immigrants, lead to strong dissatisfaction among South Tyroleans, which ended in terrorist acts perpetrated by the Befreiungsausschuss Südtirolor BAS - translated as South Tyrolean Liberation Committee. This BAS group of terrorists caused so much trouble bombing Italian government buildings and murdering Italians that the world community got involved. The leader was Sepp Kerschbaumer who led a Night of Fire attack in 1961. He was arrested and tortured by Police. He died of a heart attack in prison in 1965. This escalated the violence by the BAS. Finally, an agreement was reached making South Tyrol an autonomous Italian state with broad powers to rule itself. Although the BAS terrorists were not satisfied with the region remaining part of Italy, they were driven underground. Since that time, peace and prosperity have existed in the region and it has become the wealthiest province in all of Italy.

John was fascinated with the history and hung on every word of it. "What were the BAS like? My father has been fighting against post-war terrorist groups in Germany," he said.

Herr Baumgartner, who was extremely pleased to have such an attentive audience for his beloved stories of local history began recounting some of the brutal practices of the BAS. While he himself would prefer being reunited with the northern Tyrol region under Austrian rule, he was opposed to upsetting the peace and prosperity of the region as it was. He was very excited that the Italian Prime Minister, Antonio Bertolini had chosen his resort to vacation at with his grandchildren. The Prime Minister Bertolini is a billionaire. He explained that the BAS had died out and was no longer any threat. He moved to the bookshelf and pulled a large historical text off the top shelf. He placed it on the coffee table and rifled through the pages. "Ach, ja. Here it is. Zis is a picture of Sepp Kerschbaumer and here is a group of BAS that were killed by the police in ze Feuernacht or 'Night of Fire' bombings."

John and I leaned in close and simultaneously gasped. Two of the dead BAS terrorists lay in a heap with arms outspread. On their wrists was the tattooed symbol of the cross shaped knife entwined by the snake. We spent another hour recounting our experiences on the plane and in the airport with the men having similar tattoos on their wrists. Herr Baumgartner played down the significance of it, but worry was clearly evident underneath his dismissive attitude.

At last, Heinrich asked permission for John and himself to go to his room and play video games. Permission was granted. Karl and I stayed in the living room and conversed about lighter topics, at Frau Baumgartner's insistence. After another hour, we excused ourselves and found John annihilating Heinrich in Call of Duty. John was incredibly adept at picking off an enemy then moving immediately to a new strategic location. After each kill, John's character would sprint off to a new location. He was unbeatable by any of us. Karl finally suggested, after his third trouncing, that we head back to the villa for the night since it was nearly midnight. Heinrich packed a small overnight bag while Karl scowled about it. We gave a last thank you to Frau Baumgartner for the wonderful meal and trudged across the snow toward the villa. It was quiet and still and the moon shone brightly on the blanket of snow. We walked in silence, each absorbed in our own thoughts.

I was startled from my thoughts about the BAS terrorists and the men in the airport by a stunning smack on the back of my head. When I turned around, John was laughing and molding a second snowball. "Game on!" I declared and Karl and I ran behind a tree and began making our own snowballs. We spent a half hour firing snowballs at each other until Karl and I mounted a charge. We overtook them and tackled them. I took John down and we rolled and wrestled in the snow. Karl was delighted to have an excuse to attack his little brother and Heinrich was on the verge of tears when I stopped Karl from stuffing a third handful of snow down the front of his little brother's pants. Karl stopped and let him up and we all double timed it to the villa since we were now freezing cold.

We stomped the snow off as best we could out on the porch. Inside we stripped down to our boxers and Karl went over to start a blazing fire. Heinrich went to the bathroom and emptied the unmelted remains of snow from his crotch. He dried himself with a towel and put on a dry pair of underwear from his overnight bag. We all huddled around the fireplace rubbing our bare frozen legs. I grabbed my crotch and declared, "My balls are so freaking cold they've shrunk up smaller than John's." Everyone giggled.

"Hey," objected John, "mine aren't that small."

"What do you zink mine are like?" said Heinrich, "mine got snow packed."

"You barely have any to begin wiz," chided Karl.

"Zey are not zat small," replied Heinrich.

"Let's check," chuckled John as he reached out lightning quick and jerked Heinrich's boxers to his knees.

"Ach! Was Gibts?" shouted Heinrich grabbing at his boxers and pulling them back up. We all got a good look at his small hairless, uncircumcised dick and balls, which truly were scrunched up so tightly it appeared as if he barely had any. I was shocked at the forwardness of John's actions. It seemed like Heinrich and John had formed a little alliance with each other and became instant buds. When Heinrich had himself covered again, he grabbed John's boxers and retaliated, exposing John's two inch, limp dick and shriveled up balls. I got the feeling that John was prepared for the counter attack but instead of thwarting it, seemed to allow it. Karl and I were laughing and holding onto the waistbands of our own boxers to prevent any spread of the attacks toward us.

"I think we got a couple of little girls here. I didn't see any balls on either one of them," I teased.

"No, zey aren't girls, zey are eunuchs - dicks but not balls." We laughed at our jokes, but Heinrich looked puzzled and John looked annoyed.

"What's a eunuch?" asked Heinrich.

"In ancient kingdoms like the pharaohs of Egypt and in Greece and Rome and even in Asia, the emperors took boys into the palace to be servants. They would cut out their balls so they wouldn't mature and could be trusted to guard the harems," explained John. "It's called castration when they cut out their balls." I was impressed he knew what one was. I was only partly sure of it myself.

"Ach, nein. I am not a eunuch!" declared Heinrich, wincing and grabbing his crotch.

"You just act like it sometimes."

Heinrich started pouting and I really wasn't in the mood for a fight between brothers, so I suggested we all go sit in the hot tub.

"Good idea," agreed Karl, "I will go start it up." He went out the sliding glass doors while John and I headed into the bedroom. Heinrich went into the bathroom and got undressed in there where he dropped his overnight bag. John and I pulled out our board shorts and put them on, then put our fluffy robes on over them. I wandered out by the kitchen and was looking over the bottles of wine. John started checking out the games selection by the big screen TV.

"We cannot trink zose," Karl said. "Zey are too expensive."

"How much?" I asked.

"Zat bottle on top is so, umm, zree hundred dollars."

"Wow, for one bottle? Who does that?" I asked, amazed.

"Rich people who come here to vacation," Karl said, laughing. He opened the small refrigerator and asked, "Would you like a beer?"

"Yeah right," I said.

Karl actually pulled two bottles of beer from the fridge and asked, "I had zem brought over by ze bartender, who is a friend of mine. He zot it was funny you trink zem cold. Is it okay from ze bottle, or would you like a glass?"

"You're serious? We can really drink those?" I asked shocked.

"Yah, naturlich, why not?" Karl asked.

"Cuz, we're kids."

"Ach ja, in America teenagers don't trink at home. Zey just party away. Here it is different. We don't trink to get drunken so much. We trink to relax."

"Well, I never drank at all before," I said.

"Ach so, do you want to try one or no?" Karl asked, still holding the beer.

"Yeah, I wanna try it. Damn, this is so balls." We headed out to the hot tub and Karl set the beers along with two orange sodas on the side of the hot tub. He shed his robe and climbed stark naked into the hot tub. John and I caught each other's attention and wrapped ourselves back up. Heinrich dropped his robe over the back of a patio chair, picked up one of the sodas and casually stepped naked into the hot tub with his brother. "I forgot something," I said turning back to the villa.

"Me too," parroted John, clutching his robe. Back in the bedroom, John asked, "What did we forget?"

"We forgot to get naked," I giggled, "When in Rome..."

"Do as the Romans do." John completed my sentence. We peeled off our board shorts and stuffed them back in a drawer. I grabbed my iPod and said I would claim I wanted some tunes.

We returned with my iPod and Karl talked me through hooking it up and turning on the patio speakers. I went back out and found John already in the spa sipping on his orange soda. I dropped my robe and felt embarrassingly exposed in front of everyone but tried to play it off. I normally like being naked, but I'm usually alone or in a locker room where you're supposed to be naked. Here I felt all eyes on my naked body. I took the opened beer and stepped into the hot water. It felt amazingly good as the hot water engulfed my naked torso.

I raised the beer and sniffed at it. It smelled very strong and strange. Neither of my parents drank at all and I had never been allowed to attend parties where there might be drinking, so I'd never really smelled it up close before. I was excited and trembling slightly in anticipation of the new experience. "My mom would shit a brick if she could see me now," I thought. I lifted the bottle and smelled it again. I hoped it tasted better than it smelled. Karl was watching me intently. The others became aware of Karl's staring and turned their attention to me holding the bottle frozen at my lips working up the courage to drink it. I felt self-conscious again.

Slowly, I tipped the bottle up and the bitter brew slid over my tongue. I pulled the bottle away and spit the nasty liquid into the hot tub. "Gaw, how can you drink this crap?" I spouted.

Everyone laughed. I felt foolish and thought about snatching John's orange Fanta and giving him the beer. "Ja, ze first trink is a surprise, no?" Karl said still chuckling. "But you get used to it."

"Why would I want to?" I asked, still rubbing my tongue across my teeth to scrape off the nasty aftertaste.

"Trink it all und you will see why," said Karl. I forced myself to drink the bottle. I found if I took two or three big gulps, I only had to deal with one aftertaste. I shuddered after each swig. By the end of the bottle, I was feeling a bit light headed and very relaxed. I started talking incessantly about every mundane thing in the world. Karl smiled and nodded as I went on and on.

Eventually, John and Heinrich got bored and said they were going in to play some more video games. "But not 'Call of Duty'" Heinrich clarified. John chuckled and agreed to let Heinrich pick. "I can set it up to play on the bedroom TV and we can sit on the beds," suggested Heinrich. I watched with amused curiosity as they stepped out naked. John started to put on his robe but Heinrich stopped him and pulled him to the outdoor shower. He turned it on and pulled John immediately into it with him. I watched as the two young boys rubbed themselves to get the chlorine smell off.

Soon after they had gone in, my lightheaded feeling was worse and I needed to get out. The cold air on my wet naked skin gave me instant chills, so I quickly raced to the shower. As soon as I finished rinsing off, I wrapped my robe around me and struggled to open the sliding door. Finally, Karl opened it for me. He came in and reignited the fire, and we sat on the leather couch facing the crackling flame.

I asked him if he had a girlfriend and he said, "Ja, would you like to see a photograph?"

"Sure."

Karl got his wallet from his pants in the bathroom. He pulled out three photos of his girlfriend and handed them to me. She was a knockout blonde with giant tits. "Wow, she's hot!"

He looked at me with the "I don't understand," look.

"You know, hot. Pretty. Good looking."

"Ach ja, she is hot," he agreed with a big smile.

"Have you done her yet?" I asked.

Again, I got the look. "Umm, you know, fucked her, had sex." I made a fist with my left hand and poked my right middle finger in and out of it, to simulate a dick fucking a cunt.

"Ach, NO, NO, NO," he said, blushing. "No ficken. Not yet."

"You want to?"

"Sure. Naturlich."

"Balls."

Karl replaced the photos and tossed the wallet on the mantle and came back to the sofa. His robe fell open exposing his semi-stiffie, waggling side to side as he walked. The pointy skin at the end had shortened up, but it was still visible. I couldn't see any part of his actual dickhead. It was completely impossible not to stare. I've wondered and imagined what it would look like boned ever since I saw him naked in my bathroom back home.

I laughed and pointed at it and said, "Looks like you're thinking about 'ficking' her right now."

Karl looked down at his semi and smiled. "Ja, naturlich." He pulled the robe back together and sat back on the couch.

"Hey, Karl?" I began, "Have you ever fucked any girls yet?"

"Ja," he said smiling wryly.

"How many?"

"Only one girl, but I did it with her many times."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen."

"Balls dude. How was it?"

Karl smiled a mischievous smile and his eyes sparkled as he said, "It was BALLS!"

We both laughed.

"Do you have girlfriend?" Karl asked me.

"No. I wish though."

"Have you fooked?"

"No, but I think about it a lot."

"Have you done ozer zings?" Karl pressed.

"Damn dude, you're as curious as I am. No, I've never really done anything except kissing with a girl."

"Ahh," he said and after a brief pause, asked, "David, machst du gerne das Onanie?"

Now it was my turn to give the "I am completely lost" look.

"Ach, sorry. I mean, do you like to make umm, masturbation?"

Whoa. That question completely caught me off guard. The word's like one you never hear. Adults don't use it because it's taboo, and kids don't use it because it's too technical sounding. Besides, kids have much better slang expressions for it like, choking the chicken, spanking the monkey, beating the meat, jackin', smackin', and whackin'. Mostly, though, I wondered where he was going with the conversation.

"Umm, yeah," I began, a little unsure how to answer such a direct and awkward question. "I like doing it. Don't you?"

"Ja, I am much glad doing it," Karl said in an excited tone. "I very much need to do it now."

Then he continued, "How did u learn about to do it?"

"Umm, my brother taught me."

Your, brozer taught you?" Karl asked in a curious tone. Karl was obviously pondering something as he asked for more explanation.

"Yeah, I caught him doing it on the toilet in our bathroom when I was like ten. He grabbed a towel off the rack and put it over himself when I walked in, but I totally saw it. At first, I thought he was going to get really mad at me but instead, he asked if I knew what he was doing."

"Did you?"

"Nah, I had no idea. He said it was called jacking and it was a fun thing boys like us could do with our dicks. He said if I could keep it a secret from mom and dad, he'd show me how it worked."

"Did he show you zen?"

"Yeah, we went into his room and he told me to get naked like he was, and we laid down together on his bed. He let me rub his big dick until he squirted all over himself. I was freaking amazed by it all. Then, he rubbed mine for me but I didn't squirt yet; I just got the good feelings, you know? After that, I did it a lot. When I was in 7^thgrade, I started growing some hairs and squirting."

"You touched each ozers? Zat's balls," Karl said. "I wonder if I should teach Heinrich about it?"

"Hell yeah, you should," I confirmed, "he's just the right age." Then I asked, "How'd you learn about it?"

"Just in ze Dusche, I mean shower. I was rubbing it und I got zis very good feeling."

"Yeah, it's way good, huh?"

"Ja. It's balls!"

"Damn, dude, you got me all boned up talking about this shit," I said.

"I need to go in ze bazroom for a minute," Karl said, moving forward on the couch to stand up.

"Before you go, I need to get something from in there really quick, okay?" I informed him.

"Ja, okay, but hurry up," Karl said smiling.

I rushed into the bathroom and looked it over. I wondered where he would probably jerk off at in there. I settled on the most likely place to be sitting on the toilet. I positioned my spy cam on the counter with a toothbrush handle under one side of it to get the angle right. I pressed the start button, grabbed a small bottle of lotion off the countertop and exited. "All yours," I said with a wink, "don't hurt yourself."

He broke into a huge smile and strode into the bathroom with both hands in the pockets of the soft, white robe.

I sat back on the couch and imagined what he might be doing in the bathroom. I pictured him on the toilet. I imagined his nice dick all boned up just as I had done a bunch of times during jack off fantasies back home. It was way easier to imagine it now, after getting a peek at his semi-stiffie. The heat from the fire was enough to keep me warm after I pulled my robe open in front to jack myself off. In the glow of the flames, I could see my throbbing four inches sprouting from my groin and pointing upward near my stomach. My four-incher wasn't that impressive compared to his, but I got lots of pleasure from it and that's what counted as far as I was concerned.

I walked over to the bathroom door and tried to peek through the keyhole. I couldn't see anything. I thought about walking in and saying I needed something again, but couldn't think of anything that was believable I could need. I had my dick between my thumb and fingers and was stroking slowly. I listened with my ear to the door and I heard Karl blowing air out between his lips in rhythmic bursts. I heard the slapping of flesh against flesh timed to his breathing pattern. I felt the heat of the sexual fire in my own balls and dick as the flames of pleasure licked at my groin from my clenched butt hole all the way to the tip of my purple dickhead. I desperately hoped I'd placed the camera in the right spot.

Then I heard it, "Ach, Mensch!" He groaned out loudly then fell silent.

That sent me over my own ledge, and I shot three blasts of cum onto the bathroom door jamb. I jacked myself slowly a few more times as I dribbled out my remaining white gravy. My eyes were closed and I felt the hot orgasmic flames die down into glowing embers. After a brief recovery, I rushed to the kitchen area and grabbed some paper towels to wipe the doorway up with. I tossed the towels in the trash and hurried back to the couch, sinking into my spot just in time as he emerged from the bathroom.

"You get creamy, white sauce on your big, red wuerstchen in there?" I joked.

"Hah, ja, very funny."

Karl grinned and said, "Zat was balls!"

"Zat wasn't just balls, zat was 'Balls on Fire!'" I said, mimicking his accent. We shared a long mellow laugh together just laying back on the couch and enjoying the relaxation that follows a flaming orgasm. Remembering the video, I excused myself for a minute, went in and turned it off and then took a quick piss. I returned and lounged back on the couch, staring into the flames.

"We should go to bed now," suggested Karl after about 15 minutes of comfortable silence. Karl turned the gas fireplace off and we headed to bed. "Do you really zink I should teach ze masturbation to Heinrich?" he asked.

I walked into the bedroom first. "I think you're too late," I commented over my shoulder.

"Too late for what?" asked Karl. I motioned toward the bed where the game controllers were at the foot of the bed and two naked boys lay entwined fast asleep. Heinrich's dick and balls were pressed into John's left hip. John had his boxers clutched in his right hand. I leaned down and sniffed at them.

"You're too late to teach your little brother anything he doesn't already know," I said smiling.

"Ach, mein Gott!" said Karl staring at the cute, naked pile of boy flesh. "I am too late."

"Let's just put the covers over them and we can share this other bed tonight," I suggested and gently pulled the comforter over the two sleeping boys. They barely stirred at all. Karl and I slipped naked into the opposite bed and pulled our downy comforter up to our necks.

"Good night, Karl."

"Gute Nacht, David.