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Life is full of surprises, but the one I received from my girlfriend Claire was one of the few that have come closest to literally flooring me. We were on a four-day break in Amsterdam, sin capital of Europe, but not for Claire. No, for Claire Amsterdam was art galleries, old buildings and canals. I was relaxed with that; I find Der Wallen depressing and my days of hanging out in cannabis cafes are long gone, along with most of my hair. Seriously, being a stoned forty-year-old leering at bored shop window prostitutes is a bad look, at least for me.
We were on our third day in the Dutch capital and had thus far avoided any hint of the steamy underside of the city. It was a beautiful, sunny spring day and we sat outside eating a light breakfast. After the waiter had cleared the plates Claire reached out her hand and suggested we go for a walk. It was fine by me as I was feeling a little culture fatigue. If I saw another Rembrandt or Van Dyke my brain was going to melt.
“I don’t think you want to go this way,” I said as Claire turned along a canal I knew led to Der Wallen. Her expression asked the question so I explained that it was the red light district and just what it consisted of. To my surprise Claire didn’t seem quite as horrified as I expected.
“You mean they’re sitting in the windows even at this time of day?” Claire asked, surprised at quite how twenty-four hour Amsterdam is as a sex city.
“Yep, but it’s going to be pretty quiet until late afternoon.”
“I’d like to have a look at it,” said Claire thoughtfully, “but it doesn’t mean I approve.”
“Fine. I don’t think much of it but if you really want to…”
We wandered hand-in-hand through the narrow streets, some tourists staring at the sad prostitutes in the few windows that were occupied at eleven in the morning. I couldn’t get over the feeling that the women were working out their shopping lists in their heads, or wondering if they needed to get a plumber in, or any number of things that took them away from the fact that they looked like exhibits in a freak show or a zoo. Claire, on the other hand, was fascinated.
“Do you think it arouses them to be on show like this?” she asked me, as she looked at one particular large woman in a black and red corset.
“I think it’s probably just an unfortunate but necessary part of the job for them.”
I started to pull Claire further along, wanting to get out and breathe some cleaner air. Don’t get me wrong; I’m no puritan, but I can never stop myself speculating about the hard choices that these women have probably had forced on them. I feel the same when I see streetwalkers. It’s one of the reasons why I can never bring myself to pay for sex.
I found myself wanting some high culture again but Claire hadn’t finished looking around, and a young mixed-race prostitute now enthralled her. The woman was obviously uninterested in anything except the conversation in her head, her white underwear and stockings almost blue in the UV light as she stared into the middle distance.
“I might get a little aroused being looked at. You know, desired,” said Claire, and it felt to me that she was thinking out loud.
“Well, it might be fine for a few minutes but what when a bunch of drunk morons start leering?”
“Hmm, you might be right,” said Claire.
We spent a few more minutes walking around, and I was starting to get the glooms from the resolutely un-sexy atmosphere. It turns out that the place was having the opposite effect on Claire.
She suddenly pulled me along another street and stopped outside a porn cinema.
“Come on, let’s have a look,” said Claire enthusiastically.
“Are you serious?”
“Where’s your sense of fun?”
To the best of my knowledge Claire had never seen pornography in her thirty-one years and I doubted that she knew what to expect. I tried to talk her out of it, certain that she was going to get outraged after a couple of minutes and not wanting to have a long discourse on the evils of men. Claire was not to be denied, though, telling me to buy two tickets while she went to the toilet.
Five minutes later we walked into a smallish auditorium. We were immediately struck by the sight and sound of the woman on screen. She was on all fours, with a man taking her from behind and another in her mouth. Claire was standing stock still in the aisle by the door, her lips parted as she stared fixedly at the images and I was waiting for the explosion of righteous anger followed by a swift about turn. But instead of writing off twenty euros Claire turned to me and nodded to a couple of seats in the corner of the penultimate row.
The cinema was basically empty. A couple of other male patrons were sitting pendik escort in corners of the auditorium and didn’t even notice our entry. We went along the row and Claire took the seat next to the wall with me on her left. She could hardly tear her eyes off the screen as we negotiated our way to the seats and as soon as we sat down she leant over to me.
“Is it always like this?” she whispered.
“Depends. There’s loads of different genres,” I replied, and I felt myself being quite affected by the overwhelming moans of the redhead being taken so vigorously. I crossed my legs to hide my increasing interest in the images as Claire looked back to see the woman changing position, climbing on to the cock of one of her paramours. Several minutes passed.
“I’m not wearing panties,” Claire whispered in my ear as she leant in to me again, and there was a new note of huskiness in her voice, “I took them off in the toilet.”
I was dumbfounded, thunderstruck, staggered, speechless. I think my mouth was hanging open as I turned to look at Claire. The lust was evident in her eyes and I saw that she had adjusted her knee length print skirt, pulling it up to the top of her thighs. She took my hand and put in on the inside of her leg and gave me a little pleading look. Well, what is a gentleman to do?
I moved my hand gently up her inner thigh and sure enough, after a moment, I brushed against her lips and Claire’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’. She rested her head against my shoulder and I moved my hand up, circling her mound as she let out a stream of air. She was gently moving her hips in time with my hand and I tried to concentrate, not think of my iron hard cock.
I let my fingers trail down and Claire let out the tiniest gasp as I softly touched her clit then continued and let my forefinger rest on her hole. She was soaking, which caused another pleasant jump inside my pants, but this was clearly about something inside her. I pushed my finger a little way into her and then pulled it out, using her juices as I ran my finger back up her slit. She was trembling a little now, which became more pronounced as ran my finger back down.
I started to use two fingers, moving up and down with her lips between them, loving her heavy breathing in my ear as she relaxed into me, angling her hips to allow me to touch her anywhere I wanted. Her need was primal and nothing like the poised, elegant socialist social worker I was used to. I’d enjoyed her being horny before on many occasions, but absolutely nothing as wanton as this.
Moving down I pushed my finger into her again, deeper this time as I began to rub my thumb around her clit and she let out a quiet gasp again, moving her hips more vigorously against my hand. She was so wet that I slipped a second finger into her, fucking her as her face contorted. I built up speed, and she pushed back against me, meeting my rhythm as her legs opened wider and wider.
She looked back at the screen and immediately her legs were as far apart as she could get them. I followed her gaze and saw that the redhead on screen had been joined by a third man and was being righteously fucked in all her holes. I’d never seen Claire as turned on as she was by this and I pushed a third finger into her, sure that this would satisfy her.
I could feel that she was building up to a big orgasm and I didn’t let up, even as she sunk her teeth into my shoulder to muffle her moans. I looked around the auditorium to make sure we hadn’t gathered an audience, and then let my third finger slip out of her pussy and press against her arsehole. This was too much for her and she stared to buck and shake, coming as she sat in a porn cinema for undoubtedly the first time in her life. She was silent, clearly trying to hide her pleasure from any observers. It was more difficult for me, as not only was she leaving indelible teeth marks on my shoulder, but also she was also ferociously digging her nails into my chest through my shirt, making me almost cross-eyed from pain.
As the waves swept through her she was finally able to let her head fall back, her mouth slack but no sound escaping from her. She pushed her pussy hard on to my fingers four more times and then was still as I gently pulled out of her. I looked at her face, clearly flushed even in the dark light of the cinema.
And then, as she came down, she did something that had me almost coming where I sat. She took my fingers and lifted them to her mouth, licking them and then sucking them into her, her tongue languidly enveloping them as she tasted herself. I let out a low growl and I was ready to fuck her there and then. Claire had other ideas though, and she straightened her skirt and held out her maltepe escort hand to me.
“That was… amazing,” she said in a low voice, “you deserve a reward.”
Fine by me! I took her hand and let her lead me out of the cinema (with me finding it difficult to walk) and into the midday sun. I was expecting that she would head in the direction of the hotel so I was surprised when she walked into the first cannabis café that we encountered. She smiled and told me to sit down at an empty table then walked over to the counter.
My head was spinning as I watched her talk to the barista. It wasn’t that Claire was particularly sheltered, and we enjoyed a very healthy sex life, but she was the kind of woman who only swore under extremely trying conditions, believed that sex was something two people did naked, and heartily disapproved of using sex to sell in the media. This was a whole new Claire, and I was intrigued, to say the least, to see where it was going to lead.
Claire came back to me with a coffee and a ‘special’ cigarette.
“I’m going for a walk now,” she said, “why don’t you come back to the hotel in three hours?”
And with a lascivious wink she was gone. I looked around the almost empty café; the only other people inside were a group of lads who were clearly recovering for the night before. I looked back down at the table and stared at the ‘special’ cigarette lying there. It was the last thing I needed. In fact, about the only thing I needed was to take Claire in every way my fevered imagination could devise.
I threw my coffee down in one gulp and picked up the cigarette and walked over to the lads.
“Here,” I said, putting the joint on the table, “a guaranteed hangover cure from the Hindu Kush. Enjoy,” and I walked out onto the street. I had three hours to kill but I felt like the cat on that hot tin roof. I started to walk around, not really seeing anything, replaying the events of the previous hour in my head. This was no good; I’d be a gibbering wreck by the time three in the afternoon came around. I took a deep breath and headed out of the red light district, determined to find a newspaper and some lunch.
As three o’clock approached I wandered back to the hotel, feeling my excitement rising again, my stomach full of eager butterflies as well as the burger and chips I’d eaten. I couldn’t remember being this horny since I was a teenager; it even beat the first time I’d tumbled into bed with Claire and decided that I was sticking with her for as long as she’d have me.
I took the stairs two at a time, not wanting to wait for the lift to our fourth floor room, my nervous energy impelling me. I forced myself to stop in the hallway outside our door. I was probably building something up in my head: Claire was probably going to be asleep, or eager to show me some impressionist print she’d bought, or something similar. But I took a deep breath and put the key card in the door, then turned the handle hopefully.
You could have knocked me down with a feather at what I saw when I walked in the room on the stroke of three. There was Claire, sitting on an armchair, dressed in a see-through top, leopard print micro-skirt and fishnet hold-ups. She looked at me calmly as I managed (with some difficulty) to close the door behind me. And then she uncrossed her legs and I could see that she hadn’t bothered putting her panties back on after the cinema. I drank her in, her breasts pushing at the thin fabric of her top, her slender legs looking like they were going to be wrapped around me in the near future.
She stood up and walked slowly across the room to me as choked, animalistic sounds came from the back of my throat. She stood close to me, the smell of her fusing my olfactory nerve to my cock as it strained at the fabric of my trousers.
“Someone said you deserved a treat,” she murmured, then reached into the inside pocket of my jacket, pulling out my wallet and slowly opening it, never taking her eyes from mine as I gurgled. She pulled out a ten-euro note and looked at it, then back at me, “and now you can say that you paid for sex.”
She put the money on the table by the wall then looked at me again.
“So,” she said in her most seductive voice, “you can do what you want with me.”
It was all I needed. I had my arms around her at something approaching the speed of light, my mouth on hers as my hand ran down her back and grabbed a handful of her arse.
“Ooh, you animal,” she breathed flirtatiously as she pulled away from me for a second.
I was damned if I was going to be teased at this point and I grabbed her again, turning her and pushing her down on the bed. I stood over her and the look of startled kartal escort lust in her eyes as she looked up at me as I pulled off my jacket and shirt is one that stays with me still.
My shoes and socks came off as quickly and then I joined her on the bad, her breathing heavy now as I kissed her deeply again, pushing my body against hers. She ran her hands over my back as put my leg between hers, forcing her legs apart and letting me catch a hint of the aroma of her pussy. I struggled out my trousers and pants, my hard cock making it difficult as she lay back, looking at my erection with hunger.
“And what are you going to do with that?”
“You fucking know what!”
“Then I’d better get him prepared, hadn’t I?” And she started to kiss my chest, pushing me down on my back as she worked down my torso and across my stomach. I groaned as she flicked her tongue around the head of my cock, holding it her hand as she started to kiss me around the base and then licking along the shaft before making me groan again, taking me in her mouth.
I always liked it when Claire sucked me but this time she was like a woman possessed. Half of my cock was already in her mouth and I was torn between watching her and flopping back on the bed, enjoying the sensation of her tongue on the underside of my shaft as her wet mouth covered me. It was fantastic, and I felt my cock grow a little more. Usually this would have me pushed towards the edge but now I felt that I could go for hours.
Claire inclined her head towards me a slightly, a clear sign that she wanted me to grab her hair. I took her hair in my hand and pushed her down on my cock a little, not so much that I was forcing her, but enough to give her the feeling that she was servicing me, that she was being a bit controlled. From her heavy breathing I could tell that she approved.
My hips were moving in time with her mouth now, pushing my cock into her as she sucked me, occasionally taking my cock out of her mouth so that she could lick my head before letting me thrust back in. Her hand was on my shaft as well, changing from gentle strokes to pumping me almost in the twinkling of an eye. Then she let my cock fall back onto my stomach as she looked at me.
“I was thinking,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes, “that maybe I should wear my new clothes when we go out to a bar tonight.”
And with a roar I scooped her up, turning her and dropping her down on all fours on the bed. She chuckled lustily as I pushed her skirt up around her waist, then moaned as I positioned myself behind her, pushing my cock into the entrance of her pussy. I was now the one possessed, pushing deeper into her before withdrawing and then thrusting myself into her, burying myself as she moaned again.
I started to fuck her hard and deep, rotating my hips as I tried to get as far into her as I could. She moaned with every thrust, pushing back onto me, her neat hair becoming more disheveled every second. I reached out and put my hand on her back, pushing her down until her face was buried in the soft pillow, and I took one of her cheeks in my other hand, pulling and slapping at her as she gasped.
I pulled my other hand back and took her other cheek, holding them apart as I rammed into her, sweat dripping off my brow and another trail down between the hairs on my chest. Claire was urging me on, telling me to fuck her like a whore and the headboard was banging against the wall. I felt a momentary guilt for anyone in the next room but it soon passed; screw ’em, they’d kept us awake the night before.
I pulled out of Claire and bent down to her pussy, running my tongue along her slit as she moaned even louder. I swirled my tongue around her clit and felt her legs tremble, then I was back on my knees behind her, pushing hard into her again as she begged me to fuck her harder, my cock slick with her juices as it slid between her lips.
It was clear that Claire was close to coming so I spread her arse cheeks again, then pushed my thumb against her tight hole. I sank a little way into her and her moans became mixed with whimpers. I started ploughing hard into her again and this was enough for her. She started to yell as her thighs shuddered, arching her back as she pushed into me again. And this was too much for me, my orgasm coming hard and fast as I jerked into her, making a lot more noise than I usually do.
I collapsed on top of her, gasping for breath and waiting for the dizzy spell to pass. I think she was a little dizzy as well, putting her hand up to my cheek and whispering endearments as she stroked me. Finally I rolled off her and pulled her on to me, her leg across my thigh as she rested her head on my chest.
“You know,” she said, after we’d lain in each other’s arms for twenty minutes, “I really don’t think I need to wear panties when we go out tonight, do I?
And as I felt myself growing hard again she let her hand brush across my stomach, down towards my cock…
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