Have you ever been to Oktoberfest? Not some American rip-off event, I mean the real deal, with the busty Heidi's carrying great big steins of beer to the myriad throats of guests with an unquenchable thirst? No? Yeah, me neither

At least, I'm pretty sure the place I ended up wasn't a normal Oktoberfest. For one, there weren't any Heidi's. What they did have, on the other hand, was great big studly hunks, easily 6'7" each, that carried trays of pretzels and sausage as easily as if they had been dainty baskets of flowers. Huge steins of dark, malty beer lined the tables, and every conversation was practically drowned out by the ever-present honking of Bavarian horns and clapping and stomping of Lederhosen-clad dancers. It was a cacophony of sight and sound and smell and taste, and it was, for lack of a better word, fucking awesome!

Most curious of all, though, was the fact that pretty much everyone was wearing masks. Not huge, gaudy ones, just the kind of incognito bandit masks that you'd see in the cartoons; a strip of black fabric or cardboard, wrapped across the forehead with holes for the eyes. Some of the masks seemed store-bought, some of them home-made, but pretty much everyone was wearing them, and no one seemed at all nonplussed by that fact. No one but me, that is.

But, fuck it-- I was a stranger in a strange land, and barely spoke two words of German beyond Gutentag, Auf Wiedersehen and Wienerschitzel. I could ask for a beer - and I did, many times - and where the toilet was, but beyond that, I just enjoyed soaking up the mood of the festival without understanding the first thing of what people were saying around me. To my credit, I didn't need to understand them. After two mugs of beer, I'm fairly certain that I wouldn't have even understood English. You could have pretty much drowned a toddler in these steins, so for a girl like me, standing 5'5 and weighing a buck twenty, I felt positively embalmed by the time I sucked down the last dregs of my third glass.

It was around this time that my curiosity about the masks had grown into a bit of an obsession, but upon attempted communication with the otherwise loquacious people around me, I was met with a stonewalling incomprehension. Maybe my German simply failed me, or my drunkenly slurred half-German-half-English questions simply didn't translate-- whatever the cause, I was left wholly mystified, until I caught a glimpse of another girl, similarly un-masked, being lead gently by one of the massive servers into a tent a little ways off. I picked up the last of my pretzel, took a bite so as to not appear conspicuous, and then sneaked over to the tent to investigate further.

Navigating the immense tables took me a while, and with my legs simultaneously fighting for the right to decide the route, and trying to adopt a sort of quick-step dance in sync with the umpa-umpa of the Bavarian horn music, it took me the better part of five minutes to cross the space of the celebration and clumsily stumble up to the tent flap beyond which the girl and the Hans had escaped. My head was spinning, both from the beer and the incessant fucking tuba blaring in the background, but I still managed to stick my head far enough into the tent that I could see what was going on inside. Conveniently, the sides of the tent also muffled the sound of the music enough to be able to hear what was going on.

And what a sight it was.

The tent itself was fairly small, perhaps 12 by 12 feet, and inside was placed a special table, against which the girl was bent. The legs of the table seemed to have been sawed off to about 2/3rds length, which meant that the girl's ass was quite literally sticking up into the air. I only know this because the table was facing away from my position at the entrance, and I could very much see her ass, exposed as it was with her skirt hiked up.

More than that, however, was the massive man who had dragged the girl into the tent, and who was currently in the process of shoving what must have been ten inches of thick, German bratwurst cock into the girl's asshole. From my vantage point, I gaped in awe as he bucked his hips and sunk half of his size into her, before dragging it slowly back out. Most of his shaft was at this point soaked with lube, and as he pulled back I could see the girl's pussy positively quivering as her getting her ass stuffed made her cream herself. She was also moaning loudly, a fact that I had not been able to hear previously on account of the tuba, but which now underscored every hard-won inch of cock-meat pressing into her tight sphincter.

Watching the two of them for a bit, it was like watching the Incredible Hulk ass-fuck two and a half pints of all-American girl next door. The sheer girth of his cock made the girl's asshole stretch obscenely, and the way her legs spasmed and jerked led me to believe that this slow butt-fucking was all she needed to get off, over and over and over again. By the time the guy had managed to work the full extent of his trunk-like cock into her ass, my panties were more than a little soaked, and my buzz had mostly given way to a huge, horny hole in my stomach. I watched the mask-less girl cum for the third time in five minutes, and heard as her Hans grunted happily against her, monstrous cock buried balls deep between her cheeks.

Perhaps it wasn't the best idea to stand there and watch it with half my body still outside the tent. Not the sneakiest of approaches, at least. Which is probably why, after what felt like ten whole minutes of watching a huge German guy play Hide the Bratwurst with the tourist girl beneath him, a hand descended on my shoulder, and pulled me gently but firmly out of the tent. I turned, still very much feeling the effects of the metric fuckton of malt beer I had had, and looked up at the face of another massive server-- my own, personal Hans.

He smiled down at me, an avuncular giant with arms like he was smuggling cantaloupes in his biceps, and asked me something that was both very German, and very hard to hear over the triumphant return of the tuba. When I stared blankly up at him, he grinned and leaned in until his voice was audible over the honking horns.

"Keine Maske, Fräulein? Kommen Sie mit."

I tried to raise the point that I was foreign, and therefore exempt from whatever fucked-up traditions of their Bavarian festivals, but his hand was about the size of a dinner plate, and firmly wound around my shoulder. Resistance seemed futile. Blearily, and with a sense of impending, anal doom, I allowed myself to be steered towards another anonymous-looking tent, while the howls of the tuba drowned out the orgasmic cries of my fellow mask-less girl behind me.

Likes: Generous helpings of bratwurst, positive international relations, slow-burn anal loving

Dislikes: Cultural appropriation, tuba music, the Dutch

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