A Norwegian Lesson Pt. 01: Karla’s story

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“Ok, let’s go.” My friend Anne shouldered her backpack, turned and set off down the path.

Her husband Jack turned to me, smiled, and with a wave of his hand said, “After you.”

And off we went, a happy threesome, for a day walking around some of the hills and valleys of south Wales. It was summer, sunny, and we all seemed excited and invigorated. If I’d known at the start of the day just how happy a threesome we were going to become later, I would have been even more excited. But I’m getting ahead of myself. The part of the story where we’re all lying naked together in the sun, spent and satisfied, having all climaxed several times? Well, that comes soon enough, but let’s start the story back at the beginning…

So with Anne in front and Jack behind me, we took the path out of the village and set off along the riverside. Anne had chosen a walk up from the village where we were staying, to see some of the nearby waterfalls, valleys and hills in the Brecon Beacons. It was all new to me, but reminded me a bit of parts of my Norwegian homeland. It was late summer, and mid-week, so we expected to see almost no-one until we returned to the village.

I’d been in Britain for just a few months. I’d grown unhappy at home, and when my boss mentioned the chance for a secondment to the London office, I’d jumped at it. So far, I was loving living in London, so much bigger and livelier than my home town. Then Anne, an old friend who I’d kept in touch with after a school exchange a decade ago, suggested I should see a bit more of the country outside London. So here I was, having arrived in a typically British pretty pub hotel the night before, with her and her husband Jack. I enjoyed all kinds of outdoor activities, so hiking, biking, swimming or anything physical attracted me; they seemed to like the same things.

It was a surprisingly hot day, so we were all dressed in shorts and t-shirts. I was quite envious of Anne’s tall, willowy and athletic figure in front of me. I’m blond and curvy and I tend to get more attention than makes me happy, but in small groups with fewer people to see, I like to take the opportunity to show off my figure a bit.

It was lovely countryside, and we chatted about various things as we walked upstream along the riverbank for an hour or so. It was easy walking and pleasant company, and my mind started to wander over the past a little. My relationship with my old boyfriend had ended around 12 months before, which in the end I wasn’t unhappy about. Over the preceding year or two I’d noticed (thanks to his insistence that we watch porn together) that I found women’s bodies as attractive as men’s, and after a period of confusion and soul-searching, I realised I was either gay or bi. I experimented for a while, but the lesbian scene in Norway was a bit limited and the bi community too small for me to ever get to grips with my identity and find partners. I ended up alone and unhappy, which is why the move to London had been so attractive. I hadn’t met anyone special yet, but the place made me feel so much freer.

We walked on. As the land rose, the river became fast-moving with occasional cascades, and we began to get views of the hills in the distance. The path then led into a narrow gorge and we came to a waterfall, not huge but still three times as tall as me, with a lot of water coming over.

“Looks like a path leads behind it.” Jack said, and walked towards the narrow gap between the water and rock wall behind. Sure enough, with a bit of a shower from the spray, he vanished behind the waterfall.

“Come on in.” he shouted. “Room for three!”

We followed, first Anne, then me. There was not much space behind, no real cave or anything. But enough that we could stand together, looking out through the falling water, hidden.

“Beautiful” said Anne, gazing through the falling cascade to the sunlit river. She was slightly damp from the drops, and pressed against me, with Jack pressed against her other side. I could feel Anne’s breasts against my shoulder, but of course her thoughts were on Jack. I felt her hand wrap itself around him. “Shame there’s not more room” she said wistfully, and I think she squeezed him a little bit. I knew exactly what she was thinking. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him move his hand across her and stroke her tummy, then slowly move up. It was clear what was on their minds.

“I bet they’d find room enough if I wasn’t here.” I thought. “They’d find a way.” I felt a bit envious of both of them really. But they were a couple, heterosexual and in love. I’d best give them some space.

“I will look at the waterfall from the outside now perhaps,” I said, trying not to smile, and left them. I wondered how long I’d have to wait. In fact, after some hurried whispering from Anne, she came out moments later looking a little flustered, and Jack a few moments after that. He just looked disappointed, poor man! I took a moment to admire him as he walked towards us — he was a little taller than Anne, broad gaziantep jigolo shouldered, great legs under his shorts, and a really enticing easy-going smile.

A moment or two later, all of us were looking back at the waterfall.

“Pretty amazing place,” said Anne. “What’s Norwegian for cave, Karla?”



“No, hule. ‘h-oo-l’.” I tried to emphasise the pronunciation.

“I think ‘hole’ sounds better though…” Then she looked at Jack and said quietly, “you were starting to think about a ‘hole’ too weren’t you, Jack?” I wasn’t supposed to be able to hear that, but I could. How funny! Anne seemed slightly restrained and prudish, yet she’d make a bad rude joke like that. I’d come across this type of humour a lot since arriving in London. Jack rolled his eyes and walked on, so I sighed too.

“Ah, the famous bad British sex jokes. I have come to understand them, and your toilet humour, just a little since coming to London. You are a nation of children sometimes…” Most Scandinavians speak almost perfect English, but the culture of our countries is definitely different.

We walked on for a while, and slowly emerged out of the valley toward the hills.

“Look, a kestrel.” Anne stopped and pointed at the hovering bird on the hillside ahead. “Do you have those in Norway Karla?”

“I don’t know that word,” I replied “but we have a bird called a ‘falk’ which looks quite similar.”

“You don’t have a bird called a ‘fuck’!” sniggered Anne.

“No a ‘falk’ silly! Fa-ll-k.” I tried again, emphasising the L.

“Ok, Ok. Sorry.” Anne walked on. Then she stopped again. I could feel her goofy sense of humour gearing up again…

“In England we have a bird called a shag.” She grinned.

I didn’t know that word. “And this is funny?”

“You know. Shag… rumpy pumpy… to fuck.” She sashayed closer to Jack, smirking. “My favourite bird actually.”

She moved beautifully, so slender and elegant. Her little smutty jokes made her seem more innocent, and sexier somehow. I shook my head.

“You are still so 17 at heart Anne. Perhaps you also have an animal called a screw? Or a bang bird? No? Ok, thank God, we are finished with the British sex jokes maybe for a few minutes?”

Anne grinned again and nodded. “For a few minutes then.” She smiled at Jack and inclined her head. “You lead for a bit Jack.”

He led.

We had come to a hill, so we walked without chatting much for a while, feeling warm, with Jack a few steps in front. Because of the hill, his bum was at about my eye-height, and I was really starting to appreciate the way he walked, the powerful movement of the muscles in his legs and the tightness of his stretch fabric shorts. I allowed myself a few moments imaging touching those legs, those hips, and peeling off those shorts. Ah yes, Anne was a lucky woman. But he belonged to her, so I’d better forget about it.

However, it seemed that Anne had been admiring her husband too. She caught up to me and whispered.

“I do like him in those shorts Karla.”

Without really thinking I replied.

“I was trying not to stare myself.”

We both started giggling. Jack turned and watched us.

“You two look like a couple of schoolgirls who have a naughty secret.”

He watched us as we approached. He had a gorgeous white, wide smile, and I realised that behind his sunnies he was staring at me, not Anne. I’m certain of it! As I’d warmed up walking up the hill, I had tied the front of my t-shirt in a knot, to revealing more midriff to cool off, but it did tend to emphasise my boobs and cleavage, both of which, I knew from experience, seemed to fascinate most men. I couldn’t help it; I allowed myself a little more wiggle in my hips as I moved towards him, enjoying his gaze on me.

Anne came up too and replied, “Maybe we are,” she said, “and maybe we have. But you’ll never know, big boy. Keep going!”

She was trying to sound flirty but I think she’d noticed Jack’s eyes on me, and wanted him to stop. I felt a bit guilty at that. But not too guilty; she was so attractive I couldn’t imagine Jack ever straying.

In fact, Jack let his eyes linger back on Anne again for a few moments, then led off again. I knew what he saw in her. Standing next to me, Anne seemed even more elegant than before, with her gently swaying frame and her smooth, long athletic legs. She had an infectious fun-loving smile, and her tight t-shirt was clung to her slim figure, so unlike mine, but utterly exquisite to my eyes. In just a few moments I’d switched from thinking about what I might like to do alone with Jack, to how good it would be to get closer and intimate with Anne! I really had to stop these thoughts — they were a very happy couple, and I was the outsider. Any further thoughts of mine about this beautiful pair were going to have to wait until got back to my hotel room alone, and could let my fantasies run wild.

As well as feeling aroused and frustrated jigolo gaziantep for myself, I realised there was more of the same sexual frustration going on between them as well. Anne and Jack were clearly thinking about each other, and I was fairly sure that without me present they would be down on the warm grass by now, making love.

Then we crested the hill and everything suddenly changed. Where it was all summer and sunshine behind us, in front was an ugly black cloud, coming from behind the hill right towards us. A real summer storm was cooking, and within a few moments, the first full fat drops of rain started to come down. None of us had rain jackets.

“Aahh, cold drops!” squealed Anne. “Run!” She pointed to one side of the path where there was a small barn shed, not far away. Open on three sides, half full of neatly stacked bales of hay, and most importantly, with a roof.

We ran.

One minute of heavy rain can get you pretty wet. We arrived dripping, but panting, flushed and still feeling warm from the uphill walk and the short sprint.

“Up here, come on.” Anne had climbed up a couple of bales and I watched her long legs disappearing over the top of the pile. I followed, with Jack behind. For some reason the farmer had made the stack one bale higher around the outside. So on the top and in the middle, it was like being inside a little hollow, about the size of a king bed. Sheltered from the wind and still warm from the heat of the morning. And, thankfully as it turned out, private.

The rain pelted down on the roof.

“I need to get out of this wet shirt,” said Anne. She peeled it off and managed to wring out a few drops. “That’s better, I’m warmer without it.” Her lovely, firm, pert breasts were held by a simple white bra. My heart beat faster — her breasts were so firm, smooth and perfect. How nice it would be kiss them. Jack was obviously thinking the same.

Anne cocked her head and looked knowingly at him. “Er… Jack?”. Thankfully she hadn’t seen me staring at her too.

He jolted back to the present, and raised his gaze to her face. “Yeah, right, good idea.” He peeled his shirt off too and turned to one side to wring it out as she had done. I switched my eyes to him — such clear skin and a broad back. But I was wet too, so I peeled off my t-shirt and turned back to them both. I hoped Anne wasn’t going to mind me being in my bra, in front of Jack, but hey, she’d started it! Still, Scandi culture is a bit more open than British in this regard I think, so I asked.

“Do you mind? I believe you English are a bit more restrained than us Scandinavians.”

“God no, do what you need to do.” said Anne.

“That’s good, because I need to get my shorts drier too.” And I took them off and wrung out a few drops, then put them on the hay to dry. Then I realised Jack and Anne were both staring at me. Had I gone too far? Thankfully it seemed not, because Anne followed suit.

“Actually, me too.” She said, and stood up, gave a bit of a wiggle and there she was. So tall, so slim, so athletic. Nice curves, very feminine without being over the top like me. Her little knickers and bra were simple but sexy as anything and her brown hair was lustrous and shining around her shoulders. My god, I was started to get aroused looking at this woman. She spoke.

“You should do the same Jack.”

He stood and began to undo his shorts. Then he stopped, and it was clear why. He’d just watched two women, his love and a blond stranger, strip to their underwear in front of him. It took a lot less than that to get most men turned on, and a very obvious large bulge was showing in his tight shorts. We’d both seen it. He froze.

There was a moment’s silence, apart from the rain which was really hammering down outside now. I looked at Anne, she looked at him with his ridiculously embarrassed expression, then back at me, and suddenly all the sexual tension spilled out. We both burst out laughing. Jack just stood there looking confused and self-conscious, which set us off again. Finally Anne could speak.

“Poor Jack” spluttered Anne at last. “Are we feeling a bit sexy?” Looking at his crotch she moved toward him and then quickly reached forward and gave him a playful poke. He yelped.

“Don’t you want me anymore?” she teased mockingly and fluttering her eyelids. “You normally like it.”

“Normally we don’t have your friends here.” he muttered back.

They paused and gazed into each other’s eyes, forgetting me for a moment. I could see the rising lust in both their eyes. They wanted each other, badly. Then they glanced at me and pulled back from each other, looking awkward.

I felt terrible. I might have started to fancy them both, but now I was just getting in the way. Sometimes on the summer beaches in Norway, when it never gets quite dark, I’d been in parties where several couples made love in front of each other. So I didn’t care if they wanted to make love with me nearby.

“Ok, gaziantep escort come on guys,” I exclaimed, feeling slightly annoyed “this is the third time you’ve wanted to do it this morning. So just do it! I don’t mind and I’m surely not going to stop you two having fun. We Norwegians are not prudish. I’m not going back out in the rain but I’ll look away. If you want to fuck, then fuck!” I turned around.

There was a stunned silence. Then I listened to their voices.

“I don’t mind,” Jack whispered. “I want you.”

Anne paused again. “I don’t mind either,” she whispered back, “I need you”.

My heart started to beat faster. They were going to do it! I was going to be able to listen! But then again, all I was going to be able to do was listen. I felt confused.

“But I don’t think it’s fair on Karla.” I heard Anne say. I held my breath, and waited. What was going to happen?

Anne was thoughtful, then she spoke. “I don’t really know what I want, but this doesn’t quite feel right.” She paused again, then seemed to make up her mind.

“Yes, I think Karla should share this moment somehow. Karla, if you want to watch us, you can. If you want to strip too, you can. If you want to touch yourself, you can. But thank you for being open minded, because yes, I’m going to make love to my husband.”

With that, not waiting to see what I did, I heard her step closer and they started to kiss.

What on earth was I going to do? Anne had just invited me to watch them, and goodness knows I wanted to. But only to watch, not to join them. Did I want to be some kind of voyeur?

“Are you really ok with this?” Anne asked Jack again. I seemed that Jack was ok with it, because the rustle of clothing was all that followed. I was still turned away from them. Then Anne said the words which decided me.

“Oh my baby, look at you” she sighed.

Jack was naked, I knew it. Immediately I stopped rationalising and instinct took over. I turned around.

And there they were. Both naked. Jack was fully naked and fully aroused, a beautiful young man with a wonderful erection pointing skywards. And Anne, with her white socks and pumps still on, which only made her legs seem longer, then her smooth bottom, slim waist and long hair. They were kissing and embracing, stroking each other’s backs and bottoms in a wonderful erotic caress. After a few moments, their minds moving on to other areas of each other’s bodies, they moved apart a fraction. He started to stroke the outsides of her breasts, then slowly moving his hands in slow circles, his fingertips spiralled in towards her nipples. Oh, her nipples. She had medium sized breasts, perfectly firm and perky, but as well as that her nipples were erect, hard and pointed slightly upwards. I found those upwards pointing nipples incredibly arousing. Unconsciously, I removed my bra and started to caress myself, just as Jack was doing to Anne. Finally his fingers reached her nipples, touching her ha

rd tips gently at first, then squeezing and pulling them slightly towards him. I did the same, the first waves of ecstasy were starting to run through my body.

Anne moaned softly. “Oh, yes, my love, I almost climax just from this”. He leant to kiss her breasts, taking each nipple in turn into his mouth for a few moments, running his tongue over them and then biting, so, so tenderly. She squirmed and was beginning to grind her hips. I was doing the same, my eyes half closed, imagining it was my nipples in his mouth as I massaged myself. Outside the rain was also getting more intense, and a flash of lightning lit the sky.

I shuffled down to get more comfortable, and they heard me. I think they’d forgotten I was there. They both looked at me, as I sat facing them, topless and running my hands over my breasts. But I didn’t stop, and I didn’t want them to either.

“You two are beautiful together” I murmured, and started to tug my nipples again, just as Jack had done to Anne moments before. They both stared at me, and I realised that just as I found them arousing, they found me arousing too. Jack was simply gawping at my breasts, whereas Anne’s feelings were more complex; enjoying my pleasure perhaps, or pleased that Jack’s love for her was so obvious. As for myself, my attention was drawn to Jack’s cock. Not huge, not small, but beautiful, hard, smooth, and with a great big head. It pulsed slightly. I knew it would feel fabulous and wished I could touch him.

As the first sounds of thunder started to roll, I spoke softly again. “Touch his cock for me Anne. I want to see you touch him. Tell me how it feels.”

Anne stared at me and for a moment I thought maybe I had scared her off the whole idea. But no. Unbelievably, she knelt down in front of him.

“Ok Karla, I will” she breathed. She reached forward and grasped his shaft with both hands, and squeezed. He gasped. “Oh, it’s so hard” she sighed. “So hard, and hot like a furnace. But squeeze here, like this… and this… it’s firm and so soft and so sensitive” She had started massaging the head as she said that, coaxing and rubbing the tip. A little drop of glistening dew had emerged, and Anne touched it then rubbed it slowly around the head, so smoothly and unhurriedly, driving him mad with pleasure. Two more lightning flashes came, and the thunder was becoming louder.

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