Prost!

So, this is the world famous Oktoberfest… or the Wiesn, as they say here in Munich.

It’s… loud. And sticky. And everyone smells like beer.

I know this is a huge bucket-list item for a lot of people, going to the original Oktoberfest, but I’m here against my will, more or less.

Am I regretting saying ‘yes’ to a trip to the Wiesn with my overzealous American co-workers? Yes.

But somehow I couldn’t say ‘no’ to the invitation. It’s a cultural milestone and I’m trying desperately to keep reminding myself of that.

This technically is a work trip, but we really haven’t got much done other than drinking.

“Hey, watch it!”

Great. Now my dirndl is soaking wet. With beer.

Shit, and I borrowed this from my co-worker.

Getting showered with beer seems like a common occurrence here. Another reason why me and Oktoberfest really don’t seem to mix. Guess I better go find somewhere to dry off…

I grab my wine glass and motion to my group that I’ll be right back. They’re far more interested in the waitress passing out a new round of steins to the table.

God, this tent is packed. I shoulder through women with elaborately braided hair and men in lederhosen dancing on benches to reach the fresh air.

Okay, Oktoberfest isn’t really that bad. It’s actually really interesting how everyone celebrates German history and culture. Maybe I just need to learn more about it. Get used it.

Mm, I think those are the toilets over there.

It’s way too cramped in here.

“Komm hoch!”

“Hey!”

A hand is held out in front of me. I have no idea what he just said…

“Tanz mit!”

I have no idea why, but I take the offered hand and suddenly I’m being pulled up to the bench. I’m squeezed between you and a huge guy in traditional German clothes on a plank of wood that’s far too narrow.

I’m forced to sway side to side to the beat of the brass band’s music. You grin at me, offering your arm for me to hook mine into.

Okay, cute German guy…

“Uhh… hi!”

“Trinkst du gar kein Bier?”

“I don’t speak German!”

“Was?”

Oh, god, this is awkward. How do I say ‘I don’t understand…’

“Um… I don’t… I don’t know…”

“Do you not drink beer?”

“Oh, great. You do speak English.”

Your smile is boyish and a little crooked. There’s an air of mischievousness about you, a warmth in your eyes, like every moment is a gift to you.

I realize I’ve been staring at you a little too long.

You lean forward to hear me better, so close the scruff of your cheeks almost brushes against my cheek. There’s a scent lingering around you, not beer thankfully. Sandalwood, I think.

“Um, no, not really. I prefer wine.”

“Here? At Oktoberfest? You’re drinking wine?”

“Yeah, well, in my defense, I’m not from around here.”

“What?”

“I’m not from here!”

You stumble forward a little in the process. Your hand reaches out and quickly catches my shoulder to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry, I cannot hear you! Let’s go outside for a minute, okay?”

“Uh… yeah, sure.”

You hop down off the bench and hold out your hand to help me down. You don’t let go as you pull me through the crowd, until we’re finally in the fresh air.

“Whew, it was so hot in there.”

“So, you don’t like to drink beer, but you seem to like to bathe in it?”

I look down at myself and the beer stains still soaking my dirndl. Of course I would look like a wet dog in front of a cute German guy.

“Ah, yeah, well, today is my Oktoberfest baptism and you’re cordially invited.”

“Oh, thank you for the invitation. Here, I have some napkins, I think.”

“So, you are not from around here, you said. How do you like Oktoberfest?”

“I’m more into, I don’t know, wine bars than I am falling off benches at beer halls.”

“Are you just visiting, then?”

“Yeah, I’m here for work. We’re working on this collaboration with a TV station in Munich and… yeah, not a lot of work getting done.”

For a moment we just stand here grinning at each other. You’ve got that smile again, like you already know what I’m about to say. There’s something charming about you, like you can be a gentleman one moment and a prankster the next.

I can’t decide what I like best about you. Your devilish grin… or the little dimples on your cheeks. Or your messy, disheveled hair. Your big hands.

“Um… well, how about a ride on the ferris wheel? There’s a very nice view of the city. I can show you some attractions from up there.”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s do it.”

There’s a look on your face like you know you’re bullshitting me. You want much more than a Ferris wheel ride. And, to be honest, I do too.

“Zwei Mal, bitte.”

You take my hand, just like before, and help me into a cherry-red gondola. Your body is pressed close to mine as we get settled on the small bench. Your hair flops in the sudden gust of wind as the ride begins to move.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

The sounds of the festival get quieter as we rise higher and higher up. The booths, the beer tent, all of it shrinks down, like little toys to be played with. I peer over the edge as the massive sprawl of the city comes into view.

You’re leaning over onto to look out my side of the car, despite having your own edge to look over. For a few moments, we’re both just staring out at the city unfolding far below. When I look over at you, you’re looking at me.

“You are looking for the towers?”

Impressive, you knew exactly what I was looking for. I grin at you over my shoulder.

As I lean back against the bench, I shift a little closer to you. The outside of our thighs touch. And the press together.

We’re close to the top now, but not quite there yet.

“See them over there? That’s the Frauenkirche. And over there… Olympic tower.”

“Oh, we went to the Olympic park yesterday. I see it now…”

At the topmost point, the Ferris wheel stops and our gondola hangs in the crisp night air, swaying gently with the occasional gusts of wind. Goosebumps rise on my arms and down into the plunging neckline of my dirndl.

“Are you cold?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine, it’s okay.”

“You, um… well, if you want…”

You lift up your arm and motion for me to lean closer. I really did not have “cuddle with a handsome German stranger” on my Bingo card for this trip, but I’m not complaining.

God, that smile of yours is… really irresistible. And when you look over at me, your gorgeous dark eyes shining with the neon light of the ferris wheel… Damn. I think I’m smitten.

It feels good to be so close, physically, to someone. I haven’t had time for dating or sex or anything like that since starting this new job. And you are reminding me that maybe I should make some time for those kinds of things.

Enough thinking.

I lay my head against your shoulder and my body starts to tingle with excitement, desire. I have this sensation that anything can happen tonight.

“You smell good.”

“You smell good, too… a little like beer, but still good.”

The warmth of your mouth is a shock against my chilled skin.

You turn your body towards mine and I slip my hand somewhere behind your neck. Your fingers dance along my thigh, tracing small patterns across my knee, up to my waist.

“I saw you before… in the tent. You’re beautiful…”

I drag my hand slowly down the firm lines of your chest, exploring your body like you’re doing mine. I slip my fingertips just beneath the hem of your shirt, feeling the light curls of hair around your abdomen.

Suddenly the ferris wheel is moving again, but neither of us pulls away. I wish this ride would just keep spinning on and on so we don’t have to stop.

I want to soak up this moment completely… want to taste your lips… your tongue… long enough that I’ll be able to remember what it felt like when the moment inevitably ends.

Just as our car arrives at the bottom, I reluctantly pull away from you.

“Mm… I don’t want to stop…”

“Well… we don’t have to. Let’s just… stay.”

“Okay…”

My heart beats faster, harder in my chest. There’s no one in either of the gondolas in front of or behind us. No one who could really see what we’re doing in here…

Your eyes are focused completely on me, like you’re unaware of the endless flash of lights and sound all around us.

We grin like idiots, trying to act well-behaved as our gondola passes by the ground-level entrance.

As soon as it rises out of sight of the people below, we’re pouncing on each other once again.

I sling a leg over you and crawl onto your lap. The fabric of your leather pants is thick, but it can’t hide the bulge in your crotch.

“Mm, how long… how long is one lap around?”

“Uh… well… long enough…”

Long enough, huh?

I think we’re on the same page here. At least, I very much hope we are.

I rearrange myself on the bench and, before I can talk myself out of it, reach underneath my skirt. I keep my eyes on yours as I slowly pull my panties down to my ankles.

Your mouth is wet and glistening a little beneath your wide open eyes.

You work so fast at pulling down your pants that you almost get tangled in them. You hold your cock at the base and draw it out. Damn, looks like I already got you quite hard…

“Wait a moment…”

You rummage in your pants pocket, looking for something.

“C’mon, c’mon, we don’t have much time!”

“Aha, got it.”

I stand up on wobbly legs as the gondola swings a little, and pull up my skirt. Your hands are warm and feel strong around my waist as you hold me steady. Your fingers dig into me through the fabric of my dress.

I wrap a hand around your shaft and slowly let my hand drift down to your base. Holding your dick steady, I slowly lower myself down on it.

“Ohhh… is that… is that okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good…”

I shift up and down slightly, guiding you further and further in…

Oh, fuck, there you go. You’re fully in me now.

I bounce a little, just letting you spread me open… letting my walls squeeze around you…

Oh my god… Ohhh, this is crazy. What the hell am I doing?

I lean forward and grip onto the railing behind you for balance. Bouncing harder on your lap… faster.

“Oh!”

“All good?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay…”

I bend down and kiss you, hard.

You taste like beer, which normally I would hate, but right now it’s kind of hot. I want to taste more of you. Want to feel your hands all over me… your body rubbing up against mine…

I push my fingers through your already messy hair and pull gently. Your hands tighten around my waist and you press your face into my chest. Your hand pulls at my dirndl and bra until my breasts are totally exposed. My breasts bounce up and down into your face as I fuck you faster and faster.

“Oh, your tits are perfect…”

The gondola wobbles back and forth. Fuck, please don’t move yet. Please, just stay up here a little longer…

I push harder up against you, leaving no space between us, and grind my clit against your stomach. I want you to feel how wet this is making me. Your hands fumble beneath my skirt and curl around my ass.

I can feel each kiss, each thrust of your hips, throughout my entire body…

“You like that?”

“Y-yeah! Yeah, don’t stop…”

“Shhh, shhh, shh. I want to feel you cum…”

“Just… just a little more…”

“Ohhhh, yeah… yeah… I—I’m cumming…!”

I slip my fingers between your hips and mine and press down on my clit.

“Perfect timing…”

I let myself sink down onto your lap with you still inside me. Your arms wrap tight around me and I rest my head against your shoulder. Our warm cheeks stick together slightly.

We enjoy this moment for a few seconds longer before quickly getting dressed.

I climb off of you, grab my panties, tuck my breasts back into my bra. You pull off the condom and button your pants, and just before our gondola reaches the bottom, we’re sitting innocently next to another, like nothing has happened.

Hand in hand, we step out of the car. I still can’t believe what we just did…

You turn to face me, grinning as always, and I notice your eyes tick down to my waist. The bow on my apron has come loose.

“Oh.”

I bend over to quickly fix it, but you beat me to it.

“Here, let me.”

You take the ribbons in each hand and tie a new loop on my right side.

“What does a bow on the right side mean?”

“That we will hopefully see each other again soon.”

“How about next time we meet at an actual bar instead of… here?”

“Okay. So long as you wear the dirndl again.”

“We’ll see about that.”