6 comments/ 38582 views/ 10 favorites Visiting The Girls Of Amsterdam By: puppop I Uncle Bart I can remember Uncle Bart there at wharf side. Two stevedores were fighting, just pounding each other with their fists. They were standing off and round housing one another and you could hear the blows landing. My uncle walked in between them and grabbed each with one meaty paw, separating them. He talked to them each in turn, head swiveling from one to the other. I stepped closer when the gunsels moved off so I could hear him talking in a low voice. He was saying, "See hear now, dis is a bad zample for the crews, K? Whatevah you doin', dis ain't the time. Dey need this stuff in 'Nam so you holding up the war effort. "The two bloody battered men looked sheepish and embarrassed. He rounded them over to a corner amidst the hawsers and pulled his roll out. Thumbing through his spread, he pulled some bills, tucking them into front pockets. "Come by the club, tell Artie give you a bottle on my say so, share it, then getcher some gash over at Maudes." The two men went off, the gantry started back up with a puff of diesel and the four of us walked through the mist back to Uncle's big green Chrysler. Uncle Bart had a social club and he also repped the longshoreman in north Jersey. He made things run smooth if you will, working with barmen, madams, made some book. I kind of grew up at the club and remember when the new Family came in, all bluster, bunch of goons in ill fitting suits. Bart didn't fight them. He knew change was inevitable. The Old Joes were polite, but their kids were the shits as Uncle would say. But he got along, knew how to make people do right and how to grease the skids. He was also my surrogate father. My dad was second seat in a T-38 trainer in the USAF when the jet lost power at low altitude and burrowed in to a hill outside Austin in '59. We moved, Mom and I, from Texas after the funeral to her family's town back in Jersey and her brother took over my raising. It was he that took me to school first day. I saw him paying the doctor cash when my appendix had to come out. He never missed my high school baseball games, shouting encouragement from the bleachers when I came up to bat. He had a 'talk' with the university scout to come see me play and thus I was going to get a scholarship, my grades being so-so. I wasn't allowed near any 'gash' growing up. Bart said something about germs and peckers falling off, making his wishes known. And mostly the girls my age steered clear. I think not so much because of me but because of my illustrious surrogate father. But in June the year I graduated he came into the stockroom where I was laying in the morning's liquor order to take me back to his office, where petitioners came every day but Sunday. Huge arm around me, he sat me down, then backed up and looked at me, holding me by the shoulders. "Bunkie" he said, "You've been a good boy for me. I tellya do something f'me, it's done. You daddy'd been proud see you grow up, take direction, g'wan to college. September comes you'll start in, learnin' all sorts of smart things, see, so you can come out, be a man wit letters and be a boss almost right off. Ain't no future bein' a flunkie or gofer, you know dat."Then he paused. He picked up a framed photo of Aunt Mildred, long gone, his wife. "But they's more to life than schoolin'. There's real life an I'm gonna tell you secret." He turned away to go crank the window open, the portrait like a miniature in his meaty fist. Sounds of a sunny morning flooded in. Birds flitted around in the oak tree across the street, happily chirping, air brakes hissing as a bus went by and the hum of tires starting and stopping at the red light. The sun beamed in across his desk and I could see a well chewed cheroot in the ashtray. Uncle finished his deliberations as I sat silently, expectantly."It's like this. Women run the show. You doan know it and most men won't admit it. You wanna talk to a lawyer, what happens?" I shrugged, watching his face. "First, ya talk to his secretary. You know the man ain't answering his own phone. It's a woman! An you gotta be respectful or that lawyer will never know you called. Go to the library to find sumpin out, who do you see? One of the best friends you'll evah have is a librarian. Seen any man librarians?" I shook my head no and started to wonder what Uncle was leading up to. "OK, dos 're just zamples of a woman's power, but in the house, what they say goes too. Otherwise you shift for yourself, burn your own eggs and sleep on the couch." He paused for drama. "Bunkie, women are good as us. Lotta times they're smarter, already know what we gonna think fore we get round the corner. They got different minds an' its best not to make enemies of them, got that?" "Sure Uncle Bart, that makes sense. I mean, I've never seen you disrespect a lady or act superior to one. But you get along with everybody. Why are you talking about just women?" Bart reached into the top drawer of his desk and pulled out a fat envelope."Cause in order to respect women; ya gotta know how to treat them. And part o that treatin' is how to love them as men love their wives, like I loved my Millie." He opened the envelope. "Long years ago I got an education stationed in Europe. I want you to get the same." As Mildred's portrait gazed on, Uncle Bart opened the envelope. He pulled out an airline ticket with KLM embossed on it along with some other papers."These papers, take 'em to the courthouse and sign them in front of the magistrate. Take this picture with you, go upstairs an'get your passport. See Doc Almontado, get immunized. You're gonna stay with Millie's nephew Pieter in Amsterdam. He's a bridge and locks inspector and he's gonna take you to some places, meet some ginch that'll show you the ropes. They get looked at alla time, so no germs, see? You get home, go off to school, you'll know how to conduct yourself, be bright with the ladies. Comes a day, you'll get married and won't be confused on the wedding night." He pulled out a row of fresh large bills from the envelope. "This is for your education and meals over there. Airplane leaves JFK next Thursday at, "squinting at the print, "seven in the evening." I sat there, dumb as a mouse, disbelieving. Finally, I got up, went around his desk, and hugged him, still at a loss for words. Uncle grinned, and in a serious tone, laid it out."Remember, ya gotta come back in the fall, do good at school. You the last of the line, see? You fall outa school, you go to the Board with that 1H and its off to war wit you. You doan wanna end up on the end up on the sharp end of some punji stick or shot to pieces by some monkey with an AK. No, come back, go to school, learn law like you want, mebbe do politics, whatevah you wan'. Just do me proud, do my sister proud, doan let life catch ya by surprise." II Highways in the Sky Time was an eternity slowly passed those next ten days. I had to retake my picture for the passport, but Uncle made a phone call and I got the document in the day before I was to leave. Gil, Uncle's motorman, drove me to the airport after I said my goodbyes and took me to the gate with a leather bag in his hand. People were milling around and I could see the 707 sitting out on the tarmac. After I turned in my boarding pass, he turned to me and thrust the bag in my hands."Here's from me an' the guys, Bunkie. Open it, see what ya think." I did and found a beautiful new Nikon SLR camera with all sorts of attachments and extra Kodak film canisters. I looked up in wonder. Gil was grinning crookedly; cigarette clamped in his yellow teeth. "Take some pictures of the town and some of the fillies for us. Careful where ya step 'cause it's just you, OK?" I nodded. I mean, I grew up with firepower always near at hand, but folks overseas had to settle disagreements or turf wars with bit shit things like knives and fists. But I'd been well taught in those departments plus I was already pretty sizable for my age and still growing. The gate called just then. I can remember shaking Gil's hand and watching him leave, noticing for the first time he had a bald spot on the back of his head and that now he was shorter than I was. First class was very comfortable in those days. I recognized a well known author across the way and a couple of society ladies I'd seen featured in the Times. My shirt was tight at the collar, but you dressed to travel back then, no Indiana Jones garb like they do now. I got a glimpse of polar ice before the onrushing darkness overtook the craggy frozen tundra of Greenland. I pulled down the shade after dinner, vaguely aware of the stewardess draping a plaid blanket over me. The Captain's voice awoke me. We were wheels down, final approach for Schiphol. I raised the shade and saw lots of water, no land and yet we were coming down fast. The stewardess adjusted my seatback and helped me with my belt. Suddenly we were on the ground. I cleared customs, listening to all the various announcements spoken in English, Dutch and French. In the mezzanine was a slight bespeckled fellow holding up a card with 'Bunkie' written on it. This evidently was Pieter. We shook hands as I towered over him. His English was flawless in greeting me and helping me with my suitcases, we wended our way in the light foggy dawn to his Mercedes. I remember it had a column shift and had some official seals on the doors that I couldn't read. We entered town as the fog was lifting. I knew right then I wasn't in America, not even close. The colors seemed so bright. People lived on houseboats in the canals and no one ever bothered them or stole their things. There were flowers anywhere you looked. The brownstones weren't really that at all. They were way to narrow. Pieter told me homes used to be taxed on how wide they were. The citizens seemingly all rode bicycles. I asked if it was some kind of law. Pieter laughed as we pulled up to his narrow residence. He told me there'd be a lot to get used to, all in good time. He took me in, showed me my room. The house smelled of fresh coffee. It was so good it didn't even need sugar. We visited for a few minutes before he had to leave and that his house keeper would be back shortly. I kept looking at his suit. The lapels were shorter, the jacket cut differently and I doubt I could have bought his glasses stateside. I wondered how much culture shock I might be in for since everything was the same in one way but so different in another. After he left, I thought about the girls I was there to meet. I folded my clothes over a straight chair and took a jetlag nap on the high featherbed in my room. III at Pieter's House Gauzy dusk light was entering the room when I awoke. The door was cracked and an older woman's face was peering in at me. Her face crinkled into a smile as she pushed open the door to bring in my freshly laundered traveling clothes. "I am Greta. I worked for your aunt and raised Pieter. I was in this house when the Germans marched in and still I am here." She paused. "And how is your mother?" We talked as I got up. My nudity didn't faze her as she drew my bath and laid out my shaving stuff. And I was entirely comfortable visiting with her as I bathed. She scrubbed my back with a brush as she told me about my extended Dutch family and of her daughter, a nurse in Rotterdam. Pieter was in the second floor kitchen when I came down. He was peering under the lid at what smelled like stew on the stove. "Ah, there you are. You have met Greta and all is well, yes?" I averred and joined him at the bubbling pot. Greta came in and laughed, said we looked like two hungry little boys. I went and got their gifts out of my case, Levis for Pieter, who beamed happily, and a family locket for Greta, along with letters from my mother and Uncle Bart. Soon, Greta gathered her things and left. I watched from the window as she pedaled off. My nephew and I watched TV as we ate the sumptuous stew. I was amazed at the casual near nudity in some of the commercials, although I didn't understand what was being said. Pieter remarked that the USA must be a very prudish country and opined that religion had much to do with it. He pointed out that nearly everything enjoyable therefore had guilt attached to it, which made everyone miserable. "Here," he said, "even a lonely old man can have a few moments of comfort with a young woman without remorse or having to expiate his sins to some old virgin man with a pointy hat." He drew on his cigarette. "America makes war so much because it is sexually frustrated. Hopefully we've learned our lesson." I nodded, filing this information away. As Uncle said, I was here to learn. One thing I had just learned is that I would also be learning a philosophy and a lifestyle utterly alien to American mores, but as I was beginning to see- a lot like how my uncle conducted his life and businesses. IV My First little Visit Pieter and I sat at a stoplight on the avenue. The diesel idled quietly and I remarked on how Spartan the appointments were compared to the Mercedes to be had Stateside. He laughed. "We consider these cars good for taxis and government vehicles. They're reliable and easy to repair. But they ride like trucks, whether they have electric windows and leather seats or one like this. To me, luxury is either a Lincoln or a Cadillac. I've ridden in both and believe me, they have more comfort." We puttered on, passing bicyclists with their little reflectors and lights on their baskets and I thought about the Amish and their bikes in Sarasota, where Uncle had taken me one year. I didn't want to think further than the front tires of our car, not just then. The roads we turned onto seemed to get narrower which each successive turn and eventually I got a glimpse of a street divided by a canal and what appeared to be some ladies sitting in front of windows. We nosed into an alleyway, Pieter throwing a placard on the dash. "We are here to inspect the waterways and locks" he announced, "and to have a ride home when we leave." We grinned at each other and climbed out. We went to a side door of the adjacent building. It was a good solid looking door set into a steel frame. Pieter pushed the buzzer and turned around, smiled and waved at nothing. I looked askance at such a strange maneuver. He winked and pointed to a mirror on the opposing wall. The lock buzzed and we entered the vestibule. In just moments, a small girl came down a flight of stairs. She wore a makeup robe and ballet slippers. Her wavy blonde hair reached to her midriff and she and Pieter evidently knew each other enough to hug as they chattered in Dutch with one another. Turning to me, Pieter made the introductions."Bunkie, this is Veronika. She works here and has been looking forward to meeting you." I looked down at this wisp of a girl. "Well, hi. Do you speak English?" She smiled and I noticed a gap in the front."Yes, yes I do, but I'll teach you some Dutch if you like. I hear you're a student, this is so?" I looked at my nephew, "Yes, and I'm learning that there's a lot to learn yet." Pieter grinned behind his hand and gestured us up the stairs. I noticed Veronika's robe was faded where she sat on it and one slipper kept trying to come off her heel. As we climbed, I saw that the florescent lighting was mounted to the side wall rather than the ceiling, making weird advancing shadows of us. At the third floor we entered a landing with three doors. Veronika produced a key, unlocked the front most door, and ushered us in. My nephew pushed some colorful notes into my hand, his treat tonight he whispered. We'd meet downstairs later. He let himself out, waving to Veronika. Everything seemed to suddenly be happening a little too quickly. I thought I might choose my first lover myself. And whom would I meet up here and what would she look like? Veronica bustled around, drawing the drapery and setting a small pot on an ancient hot plate. The room wasn't large. There was a cot in the corner, one of those with a mattress set on steel springs and a pair of small upholstered armless chairs arranged at the window. There appeared to be a commode and wash basin behind a beaded curtain opposite the bed. I heard voices and drawing aside the drapes slightly I looked down at several boisterous souls with arms linked singing their way up the narrow street. "Sometimes they get drunk and fall in the canal. Of course we don't let in those types. It is too much trouble." She indicated a cup on a chipped saucer. "You will have tea with me?" "Sure, sounds good." I wandered over by the door. There was a paper tacked to the wall with Veronika's picture and some sort of writing with a seal affixed to the bottom. Turning, I saw a small valise under the cot and the fact that my hostess was no longer wearing her robe. In fact, she wasn't wearing anything as she offered up my cup. The robe had done well at concealing her features. She was gazelle thin with high firm breasts, tiny waist, boyish hips and a prominent pubis with just a wisp of hair. Her legs were perfectly formed, just in miniature. Her shoulders and neck had a hint of tan, below the skin was alabaster. I sucked in my breath, blushing hard. I'd seen some of the doxies in undress back home, but they seemed liked draft horses compared to this Lilliputian delight. She giggled. "Do I surprise you? Maybe you will stay with me for a time. Come and sit." She indicated the chairs. "Do you have something for me?" So this tiny waif was to be my instructor, at least tonight. I handed over the bills and she put them in her valise just as quick. Returning, she perched on my legs. A light fragrance of flowers washed over me and she nuzzled my neck, playfully nipping me. "It's OK to touch" she breathed. Taking the hint, I allowed my hands to trail up and down her flanks and thighs, feeling what I'd only dreamed of up to now, when in urgent moments of self release I'd only fantasized about. This was the living flesh, soft and pliant, real and sitting on my lap. Her tiny hand squeezed me through my jeans while her other rubbed the side of my face. The little room seemed very quiet but my heartbeat seemed loud enough for the world to hear. I could hear passersby on the pavement talking and laughing and the distant gong of church bells. The light on the little table between the chairs was just strong enough to cast shadows between her breasts as I began to touch and knead them. Veronika arose, standing me with her and began gently unzipping me. In short order, my nakedness matched hers and she stepped forward and hugged me. My phallus, freed at last, stood proud just under the swell of her mounds, her head turned against my lower chest. "Come over here for a minute" she whispered. At the sink, she warmed the water, using her wrist to gauge the temperature. For the first time she grasped my shaft in hand and began soaping my genitals, frowning in concentration. Her tiny hands, so soft and gentle rubbed me and squeezed, then tickled the underside. It was sensory overload for a virgin. I felt it coming, the warning tingling in my belly and in my balls. I didn't believe it. Whether I wanted to or not, those talented cleansing hands took me up and over. There was only time to gasp before I sprayed into the sink. I was dimly aware that Veronika was rapidly fisting my length, nodding and muttering encouragement. As my storm subsided, she pushed up from under my sac and up the shaft, pushing all that remained out of me. Then more warm water, holding me as she dried my tumescence. V Not over, not just Yet! "Wow," I gasped, "how did you..?" Finger to my lips, shussing me."It's magic. It happens to a lot of horny boys. It happens more to boys that play in the shower, but its better when I do it, yes?" "Are we done? I mean, was that it?" A gentle laugh."No, now we can start. You couldn't have paid attention before. There was too much you inside of here" patting my balls. "Drink some tea, recover yourself. Soon, you'll have interest again." Visiting The Girls Of Amsterdam Ch. 02 Dear readers, in the first installment, Bunkie got to fly to Amsterdam for an education not to be had at an American university. There he met Veronika, a girl his own age that gave him an eye opening night of adventure. It's a pretty good read, according to the feedback, so catch up on that one if you haven't already done so. During that first tryst, Bunkie briefly met another girl named Galena. We'll pick up the story evolving from that chance encounter. As always, all my stories have a germ of truth to them, either in the setting or events that happened. It tends to keep a story from becoming far fetched or unbelievable. I always relish your comments and constructive criticisms and of course thank you for reading my work. --puppop I Acclimation Pieter and I puttered down the darkened boulevards. Mostly all the bicyclists were safely home, the good burghers turning down their beds and making plans for the weekend. I asked Pieter if he had waited outside all the time I was upstairs. He hadn't, instead meeting some friends for dinner and running an errand or two. The car couldn't be used on the weekend, since it belonged to the government. Bicycles would be the order of the day for Saturday and Sunday. As I absorbed this, he finally asked if I had enjoyed myself. "It was a lot more than I expected Pieter. " I relaxed into the seat and looked out the window at the low clouds and mist."But I didn't quite know what to expect. Thank you for picking out such a good hostess. There's no way things would have worked as well without your help. I had a great time. I mean, I'm worn out, Lord!" Pieter just grinned and tapped his thumb on the steering wheel. I asked, "How did you know of Veronika, or is it a secret?" "I met her by my office not too long ago. She had come to the Ministry for her work visa and I chatted her up. She's a sweet girl. I was pretty sure you two would go well together." He geared down for a red light. "She and her roommate are from Estonia. They escaped from a pretty tough regime." "I met Galena. She stopped by for a minute." "I haven't met her. Are you going to see her?" "That's the plan. Tomorrow night I'll be with her, as long as I can get there." "We'll make it work." Pieter put the car in gear and we moved on. "You'll need to get by the currency exchange and we'll have to get you a bike. Taxis aren't cheap, plus there's more to learn here than just girls." We laughed. Arriving at Pieter's at last, I said my good nights and thanks and wearily shuffled off to bed. As I drifted off, I heard a police car in the distance. It might have been some other sort of emergency vehicle but the sing song siren sounded so utterly foreign. I wasn't in Jersey anymore. Saturday spelled new promises for a young man with unique opportunities. II Meeting up with Galena The wind had picked up during the night and blew away the fog. I watched signal flags on a tugboat fluttering in the breeze. I had parked my rented bike near an old stone quay where it was reputed that Henry Hudson had sailed for the New World. Lunch was an excellent sandwich and brew from a restaurant that had been there for four hundred years and the tables were worn down on the edges from half a millennia's worth of arms and elbows. I had gone and exchanged dollars for guilders and was starting to learn what things cost. It was strange to be in a foreign country, even one as benevolent as Holland, but it was the start of a lifelong love for the Netherlands and all things Dutch. It was a clean, unassuming, and as I found out, a very tolerant country. I had ridden through a stop sign, only to have a whistle blown at me by a foot cop who explained to me that bicyclists weren't exempt from any traffic laws. He was really nice about it. He even smiled and waved as I pedaled off. It was cool in the breeze and I was glad I had on a heavy cable knit over my jeans and boots. I had my Red Sox ball cap pulled low over my hair and I felt clear eyed and fit as a fiddle. With a map in my back pocket, I played tourist, bumping over the cobblestones by the Royal palace and watched the ebb and flow of tourists at some of the museums. Everything seemed old, but well cared for. I was fascinated by the colorful houseboats, the flowers and all the tiny little shops that sold everything from rare books to trinkets and electronics. The narrow shopping district was crowded with people from everywhere imaginable. They clustered around street musicians and portrait painters at the corners just like in New York. But as the day drew on, the ranks of visitors thinned as I made my way back to my evening 'school'. At the door of my previous evening's tryst, I was uncertain which bell to ring. There was a line of them mounted in brass with a number associated with each. As I stood there, the door opened and a British sailor emerged. We nodded and I caught the door before it could close. At the well of the third floor, I knocked on the middle door, which I recalled would be Galena's room. After a moment, I heard her, asking a question in Dutch. I simply said my name and hoped she wasn't entertaining. My fears were ill founded. The door flew open and there she was. It was my first meeting with her face to face standing up. Laughing and murmuring,"Ah Bunkie, Bunkie, come," she pulled me inside. We walked down a little hall which opened into her room to the right. She turned to me and gave me a hug and a peck on the cheek. Close up, her features seemed Slavic with higher than usual cheekbones and a slight tilt to her eyes, which were deep brown with flecks of gold. Her hair cascaded down to mid back and smelled of lavender. Her wide smile created dimples in her cheeks, all aglow in good health. She was wearing a tight burgundy turtleneck over equally tight bell bottom jeans and lace up boots completed the ensemble. Her breasts were unfettered, naturally sloping apart and her waist flared pleasingly out to a round thick butt. In other words, she was my idea of a full,on the tall size girl. She gestured to an old brocade covered chair by the window, which was open. I heard people on the street below us, including a woman asking directions to the shopping district in Italian. Half thinking, I muttered the answer in Italian, having just wandered through the district earlier. Galena had turned to unpacking her valise on the bed when she heard me. "Aha, you speak Italian?" I nodded, "Some, but I'm not fluent." She replied in broken Italian herself, "I learned some in school and some from an old boyfriend. This is marvelous that we can speak together, no?" "It solves a big problem." I was relieved. I'd been wondering how in the world we'd communicate and then quite by accident, this discovery. I wanted to lean out the window and thank the lady below for her perfect timing. But then again, everything happens for a reason. As Galena floated a sheet over the naked mattress, I told her as best I could how Italian men would visit my uncle's social club when I was little and how they'd pay me a dime for every sentence I would learn in Italian. "Of course, I've forgotten a lot of what I learned" I concluded. She came over and took my hand. "Perhaps we'll get to practice that and maybe some other things too? I heard from a little mouse that you are a good learner and work very hard to please the instructor." She chuckled. "Now this instructor has had no dinner. Have you dined?" I shook my head. "Shall we do so? I've seen many places for food." She grinned and grabbed a short jean jacket that didn't have the first chance of buttoning over her deep chest. On the street she easily matched my stride as we walked around dawdlers and gawkers, some of which turned to gawk at Galena. Her hair rose and fell with each step and she took my hand when we crossed the avenue. She pulled me into a little diner I hadn't noticed and we grabbed a window booth. We were flushed from the brisk walk and our attempts to understand each other, which made for some hilarious discussions. The waiter didn't speak English, so I let Galena order for me, which she did in rapid Dutch. "What am I having tonight?" I asked as the waiter left. "Bacon and ice cream" came the mirthful reply. "I'd heard that was the usual dinner fare for Estonians these days" I said, leaning back in my seat. "Wait until we have strawberries over escargot for dessert" she replied, not missing a beat. Taking my hand, a mischievous glint appeared in those up swept eyes. "Maybe later we'll have a wonderful Estonian and American layer cake- if you eat all your dinner."We laughed as shadows overtook the buildings and the streetlights started coming to life. The dinner proved to be good solid sustenance and we left with full bellies and smiling faces. Galena helped me to understand the bill and how much to tip. During the course of our repast I learned that she wanted to save up and buy a motor trawler, much to my surprise. Her father had fished until the Soviet authorities had confiscated his boat. Galena loved the sea and it was her goal to captain her own rig. I had visions of her at the helm during a treacherous storm in the North Sea. It seemed suitably romantic to me as well as reminding me of my uncle's words concerning the equality of women. I was in the company of an adventurous soul, especially for 1971. We repaired to her den of inequity. As we marched along, I watched her magnificent hips swinging in time with her arms, breasts rising and falling with her long strides. Such a beauty and she was mine- at least tonight. III Feathering the Nest A breeze carried the sound of a ship's lonesome horn through the open window of Galena's rented walk up. She'd placed some candles on a table, which she lit while I drew the curtains closed. A thin light still came from under the door and I heard what might have been Moroccan music emanating from somewhere in the building. "Do you thirst" she asked over her shoulder as she brought a glass from the sink in the corner. "Only for you" I replied. A chuckle, then, "This can be accomplished, my new friend and student." A hint to cover expenses, dutifully met and guilders disappeared into a jean pocket. "Now, I have a little treat" She pulled out another water glass, a paperclip and a foil wrapped object the size of a pencil eraser. "This is from Lebanon, another country I hope to visit someday. But for now..." Unwrapping the foil, she produced a small medium dark sticky ball which she impaled on the bent paperclip. "Matches, please" she intoned and striking one, held it to the tarry substance. When it began to burn, she blew the fire out and covered it with the overturned glass. The glass filled with smoke. "Now, do as I do my student." She tipped one edge of the glass up and sucked in the smoke, then reset it. "Wait until it fills anew, then you do as I did. Take it in slow, so you do not choke." I complied as best I could with her directions as a sickly sweet aroma wafted up from the scarred table. Galena exhaled, "We do this once more, yes, and it will be finished." "Is this hashish?" I asked, staring curiously at the glass. "Yes. You will like it in only a few moments. It makes love play more, ah, intense one might say." She grappled for more words. "It expands my nerves and when I am with a man I wish to enjoy, the rewards are, can I say, more plentiful." She tipped the glass again, deftly sucking in the imprisoned smoke. I followed, finishing what was left. "If you will close the window I will put on my, uh, instructors' gown." A wink and a grin, her merriment barely contained. I got up,closed the window and gazed out. The street tonight was busier than last, with a lot more men perusing the girls in the lower windows. Now I could hear the Moroccan music more clearly. In fact it seemed to come from the other side of the wall. I started thinking about Arabian nights, and then Barbara Eden in the 'I Dream of Jeanie' show and belly dancers, silk tents and scimitars, Ali Baba and old Disney cartoons in Technicolor. I realized the window stool was painted a pleasing shade of aqua. That's when I discovered my mind was shifting to a different plane. The music I was hearing seemed more insistent, throbbing bongos and balalaikas. Turning towards the room, it seemed dimmer, lit by the two fluttering candles. In front of the bedstead stood Galena. She wore a long translucent gown held together in the front by a simple sash. She stood in sequined slippers and her flowing hair was pinned up in loose gathers only to cascade like auburn waterfalls over her shoulders. In the fading light her eyes seemed almost spectral and mystic, her pupils reflecting the tiny flames of the candles. Wordlessly, she held out her hand. Telepathically understood, we would be communicating without anymore language barriers. IV Intimate Galena She swayed gently to the hidden music as she removed my clothing. I stood before her bare chested as her long fingers traced my muscles and tendons. Warm caressing palms against my nipples, squeezing my biceps, she seemed lost in her own time of discovery. Her pointed tongue licked the corner of her mouth and her luminous eyes looked deep into mine as she undid my jeans, gently pulling the zipper down, anticipating further discovery. I stood mute, hands at my side watchful as my houri took a deep breath and released my tumescence. "Ahhh" she breathed, nodding. Her other hand drew my head down to her lips, feathering my cheek with her fingertips as her tongue sought and gained entrance to mine. Of their own accord, my hands went to her waist, the ruffled silk warm with the promise of womanhood beneath. She breathed deep, pushing down on my waistband and I complying, became naked at last. The music intensified and we swayed in time tightly and as one, my maleness between us, encased in her stomach's hollow. Wandering hands pulled my loins tightly to her, kneading my buttocks. I found her swaying hips soft, firmness just below, flexing, releasing, pushing into me yet still we kissed more urgently. Pulling away, I released her sash, parting the gown, her flushed skin hot on my own. A true moment suspended in time, the cleft note wherein the spark reigns supreme, before the flame ignites, that split second before lightning rends a darkened sky and a moonlit torrent enters Stygian depths. Eternity became reality, of souls united, the mortal casings became no longer impediments but extensions of two minds collective, intertwining and blatantly expressing human desires with the illicit promise of Eros' lust impending. I traveled in the kiss. I lost myself into the glories of her embrace. There was no future, just an unstoppable now. Dimly I was aware of my escalating need, but also of the treasure held in my arms, her questing mouth in mine, the pounding in my temples. Behold, my framed mental remembrance of Galena, a portrait even to be carried from one lifetime to the next, a gift of the Goddesses. I decided I liked hash a lot. We breathed to each other, the kiss broken. "I am lost in you Galena." Answering smiled whisper, "You are stoned. Sit before you fall." The low cot was against the back of my calves. I sat as Galena towered over me. She leaned forward, her gown falling forward framing my shoulders. Within were her magnificent breasts, the unbound fruit of her womanhood only inches from my eyes, the nipples flushed and dark and past the pouting belly, the long sable fur encompassing her sex. As my hands came up to caress, she took each in turn, binding them behind me with her gown's sash. I looked up at her questioningly. Her silent reply- a challenging smile below dancing eyes.Her hands to my shoulders, she shifted a breast to my lips. I licked the slight saltiness from her as the aureole ridged and hardened and her nipple distended. I took more in my mouth, then closing onto her nipple, watching her face above. Her hand went behind my head, pulling me tighter as I began to suck her engorged nubbin until it stood proud and firm in my mouth. Galena sighed and nodded, her fingers combing through my hair. She pushed my head into her heavy orb, then released. She made as if to bite. "Like a grape" she whispered. I nibbled and sucked, nibbled and sucked, then licked her expanse before resuming anew. Her hand fled my neck, still holding my shoulder with the other and quested for my maleness, rigid against my belly. With fingertips, she drew little circles on the tip then barely squeezing. I felt my sac contract and slickness issued unbidden, only to be rubbed, glistening the end. Shifting, her other breast replaced the first for my ministrations, the nipple already hard and needful. Galena's long fingers continued their tarantella, exciting my swollen need, making it difficult to concentrate on my 'lesson'. Her fingers slid to the back of my cocks head to the sensitive spot, slicking it with my own contributions and then sliding down the shaft, closing gently as she reached the base, pausing, pulling up, and allowing the skin to slide past her moistened palm on the journey's return to the tip. This she did slowly, languidly, almost carelessly. Then bunching her fingers around the head, she squeezed anew with a gentle tug, urging out still more clear droplets. It made me delirious. My hips began to jerk as her torture continued. It was never enough to build to release. No matter how I shoved or moaned, her caress continued. If my attention to her breasts wandered, so too would her hand, only to return when I resumed. I was beginning to ache when she reached to my scrotum, squeezed, and leaving several fingers there, jacked my base firmly and rapidly. My surprise was absolute, as if a bright light had come on. My knees flexed, my belly tingled as my orgasm suddenly became imminent. Galena's hands left me and standing, she shrugged off her gown, tossing it on the pillow. I moaned, wishing to grasp myself and finish what she'd begun. I needed perhaps one more stoke for release! She shifted and placing one foot up on the cot, brought me face to face with the lush soft fur of her pudenda, the exotic aroma of feminine arousal wafting into my nostrils. She tipped my head back, rubbing her silkiness across my face back and forth. Her other hand cupped her swollen breast, tightly pinching her nipple, head thrown back, lost in her own world. Shifting her hips forward forced my lips to her crevice, the labia slack and open, where the pronounced inner lips hung glistening, her clit elongated. I took my first tentative lick, the salty tanginess my first taste of woman, her smell an inviting elixir to explore, kiss and worship. Gently I sucked in an inner lip, kissing, licking the folds and hearing her sigh above in a moment's contentment. I ran my tongue down the folds as she tilted her pelvis more, giving me unfettered access to her secrets until I arrived at her entrance. Without hesitation, I plunged my tongue into Galena's needful hole and felt contractions tightening around my searching licks in and out. My face grew wet with her need, yet I ignored her firm clit rising past its hood resting against my nose. Sucking in her lips together, I suckled back to the top of her furrow even as Galena tried to push my head back down. I wiped my face in her hairs and looked up at her face. Her eyes were narrowed, nostrils flared as she breathed. I could take no more bondage and loosed the sash from my hands. Grabbing her magnificent ass, I swung her down onto the bed, head to the pillow, knees akimbo, her glorious pussy open and exposed. Her clit, unattended stood out from her freshly sucked lips, her hole ringed in fresh droplets of need, a whitish cream oozing downwards. Leaning over sideways I brought my mouth just short of her rubbery stub and planted the lightest of kisses on its very end. Galena's hips jerked one, then again. She moaned something I couldn't understand, pushing my head hard against her, grinding. Visiting The Girls Of Amsterdam Ch. 02 I gently kissed just the tip again, then a tiny lick. Her thighs quivered, lifting her from the bed. I licked again, more firmly. She snapped her hips off the bed, urging me on. Drawing her whole clit into my mouth, I compressed my lips at its base and tongued it bottom to top. Galena's legs snapped closed around my head and she pushed insistently on the back of my head. I pried her back open, feeling her trembling as I did so. Raising and looking down at her I beheld my beauty gasping for breath, face flushed, her hands squeezing her swollen orbs, fingers pulling her nipples and her ass hunching upwards. I started to speak but she shushed me as she arose, pushing me down on the bed. Rapidly, she straddled me, grasping my hardness and rubbing it up and down her cleft. I grabbed her tits as they swung in time with the wanton jerks of her hips, savoring the heft, feeling her nipples poking out between my fingers. Suddenly her jerking ceased and I watched her lower herself onto my cock. I felt just my head slip readily into her entrance, then she drew away, only to repeat again, this time just an inch deeper. I could feel the heat, then a squeezing sensation as she tightened around me. Again she withdrew, leaving only the tip inside her. Galena reached between us and began steadily pulling on her proud clit, jilling it until she stiffened. Abandoning that move, she rapidly jacked my shaft. I could feel fluids cascading down my shaft which she collected and returned to her earlier self abuse, this time strumming her folds up and down, desperately rubbing in long rough circles, forcing her clit to slap against my shaft over and over. It made a wet squishy sound as she did this along with a rhythmic slapping sound. The sheer eroticism was overwhelming. I gazed up at her face. Galena was intent on her hand, solely focused on the pure pleasure emanating from her steaming soaking cleft, one spasm begetting the next. As her regimen continued, her pussy swallowed more and more of my cock, flexing her jism onto my thighs even as she slowly filled herself with me. Her control was total. I couldn't move either way in my position and was helpless save to watch and ache for release. At last, all of me was encumbered and I could feel from inside her ministrations from without. She paused, breathing deeply, chest heaving. She stretched her arms above her head, and then reached for the water glass, taking a draught then offering to me. Again she said something I couldn't understand. "What?" She caught her breath. "I like to wait. It makes it much stronger." She regarded me. "I sometimes will do this all night without letting the end come. When finally I cannot stop, it goes on and on until I'm screaming. I did this as a girl and still do. It keeps me sane. But I must have privacy, which is, ah, rare." She knitted an eyebrow. "Have you ever tried doing such a thing?" I nodded. "I don't think I could last hours like what you describe. I think I would explode." "Does it hurt if you wait too long?" "Yes. My balls begin to hurt and it is painful for them to be moved while I do the act." "That I understand. Do they hurt now?" "No. I find that concentrating on you makes me less mindful of my own need. It is a good discovery!" She squeezed me, I twitched back and we smiled into each other's eyes. Galena licked her lips. "Perhaps you might like to continue, my student. We might give mouth loving to each at the same time. Would you like that?" "I wouldn't last long. I'm way too aroused." "Me too. But it would be fun to try." She thought for a second. "Let us warn each other if the end comes near and decide from there what to do. I'm not ready to end. You are being a very good learner." She laughed. "At the end I will scream as quietly as I can." She dismounted, my cock slapping wetly on my belly. She pulled her jeans over and removed another foil covered ball, her nakedness shimmering in the candle light. "Oops!" She exclaimed and handing me the ball, wiped at our fluids running down her thigh and pressing her hand to her matted pussy. She stood above me for a moment, running her fingers up and down her cleft. Breaking her reverie, she went digging for a cloth and I unwrapped the hash. V Our Sexual Confessions We smoked again, listening to the music next door and then sat cross legged on the cot facing each other. We talked and fondled, her jacking me slowly while I fingered her hole or gently pulled her still swollen clit. "This is so nice" she said dreamily. "If I jerked you faster, could you keep from climax?" I shook my head. "It would be too much." "Ha. If you rubbed the spot inside me, I would blow in your hand. I remember the day I found it. It was by surprise. I was playing and watching TV and my brother was upstairs. My legs were drawn up on the couch and my pajama bottoms were around my ankles. I put two fingers in me as I played with my other hand. I found a swollen spot and rubbed it while I pulled on my clitoris and without warning I arrived. My wetness sprayed out and I came before I could stop. I had been teasing myself for a long time so the feeling was more than I could contain. I made noise. I couldn't help it! My brother stood in the doorway and watched the ending." "What did he do?" "He went back upstairs and never spoke of it. It was the best thing to do." She gave a long slow tug, making me jump. "What of you? Did you ever get caught?" "In a certain way, yes, I did. Regina, our housekeeper found me out. When I had a wet dream she noticed it in the sheets. She was very forthright about it and taught me about masturbation. "Oooh. Tell me about it!" It was hard to gather my thoughts. Galena was gently scratching my balls with one hand and firmly jacking me with her other. Her breasts jiggled with the motion and it was exciting me, especially as the hash kicked in again. I put a finger inside her and found her spot while I flicked her clit. Her eyes rolled back and she stiffened. "Well Regina asked me what had happened and I told her about waking up from a dream about a girl at school. For some reason in the dream we were in the gymnasium on a mat and we were wrestling. We both wore T-shirts and shorts and I had my hands up inside her shorts as we rolled around. It seemed so real and I guess it made me release. Regina understood and said those things were normal for a young man, but did I know how to make it happen when I wanted to. I told her that I'd made it hard of course and played with it but nothing really happened. She had me lay on my bed with my pants down. She talked to me softly while I got it hard and told me how to caress myself while I thought about erotic things. That worked well and I came as she whispered to me. She never touched me, just encouraged me and watched. She liked to watch, even after I got used to doing it. She'd leave a cloth under my pillow as a hint." "Oooh! Stop for a moment please. It is too much." Galena's hips were shaking, trying desperately to contain herself."That is so sexy. I would have been all over you. Watching you touch yourself and climax- she must have a lot of discipline." I nodded."This spring I came into the guest room when she was putting on her uniform. She was just wearing her slip and had her back to me. Regina is middle aged and thick in the middle. I slipped my arms around her from behind and held her breasts. She didn't fight me off. She held onto the closet rod and let me run my hands up and down her. I felt her nipples get hard and she started rubbing her butt against me. Then she stopped me and sent me from the room. Part of her was willing but another part of her knew it wouldn't be right. Then two weeks later, my uncle decided to send me here. She might have said something to him." "Ah, well thanks to Regina then." Galena unfolded from the bed. "Let us do this. Lay down and I will lay over you." She straddled my head with her long legs, easing down until all I could see was her swollen needful pussy. I felt my cock engulfed, her long hair on my thighs. Her aroma filled my nostrils and I took her clit into my mouth, licking the tip gently while I sucked. In the near silence I could hear the wet sounds we made pleasuring each other. Galena dug her hands under my butt, taking all of me down her throat, teeth barely scraping me on the back of my shaft. My hands were free to wander. I held her heavy free swaying breasts, pulling her nipples, then gliding back to that round meaty ass, squeezing it and marveling at the firmness of her globes. I licked her furrow with the flat of my tongue, making her clitoris spring back and forth as her entrance foamed with desire. She increased her speed, sucking me with abandon, seemingly forgoing her earlier cautions. It was so hard not to give in to that expert mouth. The challenge was becoming unsustainable. My sac was tightly drawn up and my nerve endings were on fire. My tingly warnings were in full song and I felt my fluids rising to my cocks head. I resolved to think of nothing other than suckling her puss, drawing her ass down hard against my head, my nose in her hole, gasping for breath. Galena began shaking and moaning. She replaced her mouth with her hand, rapidly jacking me while rapidly licking just my head. Suddenly, she leaped off me, only to collapse alongside me on the narrow cot. Her whole body was trembling from need. So was mine. Face flushed, she kissed me deeply, our tongues intertwining, sucking, breath puffing from our nostrils. We moved to face each other and she pulled my shaft down, putting it tightly in her cleft."Don't move" she moaned. "This is the tease. One hunch and I'll spend, I know it. It's right there and I want it so bad, oh so bad. You are a good boy, so big and hard and I want to put it in and be lovers, but for more than one move up and down. I can't do that right now, no, no, too close!" Her hand ran up and down my back, tracing the muscles, then kneading my buttocks, resuming our kiss. When I could trust myself to speak, I broke the kiss."I am at the peak too. The way you sucked me made lose control. Two more seconds and I would have filled your mouth." "I know and I would have filled yours too, maybe drowned you, I'm so wet." She laughed shakily. "Poor Veronika, I did drown her one night." "You two are lovers?" "Not by meaning so, just by my necessity I think. We live with her grandmother and have to share a bed, which is not a private thing at all." Galena paused, pushing me onto my back. She bellied onto me and sank back, guiding me into her sopping maw, giving me a squeeze once I was fully inside. "We had returned home from an evening of drinking and a little hash and went to bed. I couldn't sleep for thinking of sex, but Veronika slept almost at once. I decided that maybe a little something wouldn't be noticed and started touching myself. I hadn't had any lovers in a while and my body reacted, surprising me. I jerked a few times. I couldn't help it. Veronika woke up and asked me what was wrong. I told her I needed to get off and I was sorry I woke her. She laughed and asked if I needed help. I lay there surprised and then in the darkness she started sucking my breasts and kissing my nipples. After a moment her hand went down there and she started rubbing my clit while I fingered myself. I just about died right then, it was so good! She liked it too. I felt her and she was wet. She said she got aroused from me being aroused. She went down on me, her little butt waving in the air. I rubbed her tiny thing until she came and that made me come so hard that I drenched the poor girl. I couldn't have teased that night. I was too needful. Veronika told me that is what friends are for." She undulated her ass slowly, her soft wet fur rubbing across my belly. I pushed more deeply inside, feeling her clench as I did so. "Go slow. I want to feel all of you going in and out of me." Saying this Galena swayed from side to side. Together, our pelvises met, only to part and begin anew. As our erotic dance continued, she got her knees under her and rose to a sitting position atop me. We held hands as she shuffled her hips and gazed down at me, a smile on her lips. As the minutes ticked by, she subtly increased our speed, all the while watching me. The color rose in her face and her tits swung in circles as her belly worked rhythmically. Releasing her hands, I grabbed her breasts and started pounding up into her. She matched my urgency, recognizing that at long last the teasing was over. Together our copulation became as one. We lost ourselves in eachother's eyes, the wet slap of our genitals confirming man's oldest rites, a ritual beyond time itself. Mirrored were our desires, joining to climb the hill, gasping as the end drew into sight, a reckoning with heaven. I felt her beginnings and she knew I did. The first pinging from her thrashing furrow betrayed her although she kept her face calm. Her pussy clamped down harder, then harder still and involuntarily she gasped, hair flying about her shoulders. Her nipples spiked, proud and swollen and she began to thrash her ass with wild abandon around my thrusting pole. My sanity was betrayed as my first spurt began its travels. She felt it and cried out, deserting her self control. The storm was upon me now, unstoppable, wave after wave. Each gush was relief, my contractions matching hers, hearing her cries as if from far, far away and my own moans a joining chorus. Her ass swung a furious dance without let up, wringing me, torturing herself as my cock strangled in her powerful spasms, one overtaking the next. She reached down, molding her lips around me, roughly pushing her clit against my shaft only to come again and again. I watched her travails as if from a great distance, my orgasm exhausted, falling back on the bed until finally Galena's climax expired. Knees drawn up to her chest, I felt the thud of her heart as she lay atop me, the sobbing struggle as she regained her breath. We could ask no more from one another that night. It was a major concert in a rented room. We propped up together, sharing the pillow and listened to the music and the night life passing by outside the window. We napped briefly and eventually arose and dressed. Downstairs, the streetlights were haloed in the mist as we unlocked our bikes from the rack on the bridge. It was with a kiss and long hug that we set off on our journeys home to a rest well earned. VI Postscripts and a Camera This memoir completed, I sat back from my desk, stretched, looking around my cluttered office. My gaze fell upon a corner shelf holding an old black and tan Nikon case. Unused in years, since the advent of digital photography, this dusty relic was a link to my most special time as a young adult. It was Veronika, a natural shutterbug, who helped me learn to use it, explaining f-stops and close-ups, which lenses to select and so on. And safely sequestered in a hidden place are the pictures and slides developed in the uncensored Holland of my summer's adventure. The slides I could show a parent or friend, my tourist takes of Amsterdam, the Zuider Zee, windmills- all the usual things one expects to see. The pictures were a slightly different matter. My coffee pot yielded my second cup as I got down the shoebox. Removing the cover instantly eradicated forty years, the vibrant colors leaping out, those of summer in a foreign land and girls just entering womanhood in all their glory and flattering photos of a youth wearing a Red Sox hat. There was the essence captured of Galena, docile as a mare being mounted from behind as she held to a tree just off a graveled towpath, her shorts and panties bunched at her shoes. Veronika caught the lustful look of concentration on my face, Galena looking back over her shoulder at me. The three of us had biked into the country one Sunday, a simple picnic in our baskets. The shot I took of both girls topless, standing at the gate of a flower farm, Veronika standing on a stump to be the same height as Galena, both grinning into the sun. Then another time, caught in the rain, Galena's peasant blouse rendered see through in the downpour, her round orbs in full evidence on a train platform, a waiting male passenger gawking at the splendid view. A series from our night at a floating motel, Galena wearing me out, then with my wrists tied to the bedstead, Veronika taking her turn, caught at the moment of climax, face turned up like an angel's, an instant's heaven. One after another, the pictorial chronicle shuffled through my hands, averring and refreshing a long ago simpler time of innocence, insouciance and youthful impudence. I don't look through that box very often. I regret not knowing then that I'd met a soul mate, even if she was an illegal refugee from behind the Iron Curtain. I regret not knowing then that Galena was my benchmark lover, against whom all subsequent lovers would be found wanting one way or another. I did know I couldn't have taken her to America, her being stateless, knowing that even my uncle didn't have enough pull to square that deal. Pieter, his fiancé and Galena took me to the airport on that warm mid July day. It was emotional. I said my goodbyes in Dutch and Pieter and his betrothed left the gate, leaving Galena and me to silently hug and make no promises. It was the longest, saddest fifty steps to the brand new KLM 747 and fly off in a roar back to a smoky, dirty USA, the land of want and war, needless morals and laws with religious figures wearing pointy hats and a criminal for a President. We wrote to each other for years in scratch Italian, Galena and me. I went on to school and made my uncle proud and stayed out of the war. Galena finally got on working a cruise ship, eventually marrying one of the ship's officers. We lost touch then, but I doubt she ever got her trawler. Veronika became a virologist and eventually moved to Switzerland and the last I heard was working for a pharmaceutical firm. It is said that souls reunite on the other side, regardless of time differentials because we never send our entire soul to this earth. Also, it is said we select a time to return to learn more life lessons with a group of fellow conspirators. It gives me succor and peace during these deeply troubled times to know there's a chance, just a chance to find a heaven as I found in Amsterdam, 1971. Visiting The Girls Of Amsterdam I sat again and sipped the lukewarm tea. It was rejuvenating and reassuring to my nerves, still jangly as they were from my unexpected orgasm. This time, my mini harlot sat on my legs facing me, hands on my shoulders. She rubbed my biceps. "God, you are so big. I mean not just down there, but all of you. Not all Americans are this big," squeezing my biceps, "you will make a girlfriend proud. This I am sure of." "You say such nice things to me. I wish all my teachers had been like you." Veronika smiled. "Pieter showed your picture to me last week. It is good we are the same age together, you and I. You might have wanted someone older, but Pieter thought you would be comfortable talking with me, maybe not scared?" "Well I guess you're right, I'm not scared. When I first saw you, I thought maybe you were the house girl. I mean, you look so young. You're tiny and have all this pretty hair. Do you roll it?" She thought for a moment. "Roll it?' Then comprehension, "Oh, like use curlers and irons. No, that's just how it is. When I wash it and it's straight I can sit on it. I'm happy you think my hair pretty. I'm happy to be blonde. In USA the blonde has more fun I am told." "Do you want to see America?" She pursed her lips. "Maybe someday, not now. They shoot kids there, in the Ohio state I know and many cities have been burned down. It is too violent a place. You must be very careful to live there all the time." She took my teacup and set it down. "Let's not talk of that. I will play teacher for this time." Then she took my hand, guiding it to her nest, pressing my fingers against her pubes. She peered into my eyes as her hands cupped her firm twins, thumbing her nipples to proudness. "You know girls do it in the showers too. I do, still, from time to time. Everyone has needs..." A pause. "Rub me like this...Just gently; feel me open as you touch right...there. Yes, there it is. Do you see? It is a flower and in the middle is the bee's prize. Wet your finger and just barely touch, there...like that. Uh, you are good student. Make the up and down motion over the nub. You can feel it? Ah, I can feel that too!" We continued a few minutes. Her soft breathy voice encouraging, directing and at one point she gasped."Do you feel the difference from how we started? See how my lips are full now and red and the nub stands from the hood. Go down more with the finger and see uh, what is happening." I trailed my finger. I no longer needed to keep wetting it and at her center it was wet and sticky. I looked up at her closed eyes, her brow furrowed in concentration. One of her hands trailed down my chest, kneading my triceps and rubbing my flat belly, only to return and squeeze my arms. Her other hand absently began twirling my pubic hair and grazing my maleness, once again aroused. "Now is the time to put it in, your finger, yes inside...do it slow. There, yes, now some out, then in. Go deeper. Put your thumb on the nub and make the back and forth motion, oooh, more gentle. The more you touch, the more sensitive, oh yes, yes, like that. Just back, then forth with the finger. I felt a cocoon around my finger. It seemed like it grabbed me to pull it in, and then pushed to expel me. Her nubbin felt like a tiny onion, greasy and rubbery and she now audibly gasped while she directed the play. I pushed my last knuckle deep into her and her hips jerked, her legs jumping on mine. With a tiny yelp, her eyes popped open. She spit in her palm and slid it on to my cock, then tugging, and then releasing. Her hips started a cadence of their own, seemingly unbidden. Her breathing was more pronounced and her eyes narrowed to slits. "Yes, a good student "she gasped. Her other hand felt the cords of my neck, rubbing and squeezing my muscles. I had the fleeting thought that this is how girls like to feel up guys. I could tell it excited her, to say nothing of her other hand, thumbing my slit, making me leak my own need out. A part of me considered the differences going on here. I'm sure the working girls back home didn't have these reactions to their johns. It was just a job to be done upstairs in a few minutes, or backed up against a wall in an alley. This girl, in teaching me, was showing me what she herself liked and how it was done. It endeared her to me to make such efforts, such giving. "I forget myself, this is for you and I am sorry." I protested. I wanted to keep on. The smell of her. The flowers combined with a clean grassy odor, yet the musk of feminine sex was beginning to overpower my thoughts. She giggled and pulled my finger out of her with an audible pop. Guiding my hand to my mouth, she commanded, "Taste. Do you like?" I sucked on my finger and nodded. It was creamy, a whitish fluid at the base of my finger, stronger smelling than just the air in the room. "Ah, this is good then. Special men love their women with mouths and tongues. Most girls cannot resist such things. I am such a girl, myself!" She announced. "Will you show me what pleases you?" I hadn't thought of kissing her down there, but it excited me and felt my balls tighten. She reached to the table and got her cup. Sipping pensively, she shook her head. "No, that's a different lesson. I think now the sensitive things should meet." She replaced her cup and slid up my lap. She grasped my cock and pulled it horizontal with my thighs. Slowly, as I watched, she put my tip against her swollen bud, the bee's prize. "Feel this" she breathed. She began rubbing me back and forth, then in tiny circles, then up and down. "Oh. Oh, this is so good. Can you feel it too?" I nodded, entranced as I watched. She began to slide her hand up and down my shaft as she rubbed her slit more firmly and in bigger circles. "This is how a girl pets. Now you do it." She let me go and leaned back, her hands on my knees. Her nipples were flushed and pointed, the aureoles crinkled. Taking myself in hand, I began the same motions, then started sliding my swollen head up and down her wet cleft from the top to bottom. It slid better then and I tapped her nub, and then resumed the circles. Her lips had swollen into a circle and seemed to try and grasp me on their own. I looked up at her face. Her eyes were closed and she was biting her lower lip. Gently she undulated her soft little hips in time with my circles. "This is good, what you are doing Bunkie, oh yes that is so good. Do you like it? Could you cum just from what we do now?" "I think so. Especially from watching you. Its making me very horny." "Well we are both horny then. I want to cum and I am close, yes very close to the time. I think you need to feel me, see how hard are my nipples? Touch them, squeeze the ends like so." I felt the rubbery firm tips, and leaning forward took one in my mouth, sucking. I felt her shiver and she put her hand on my neck. "Yes baby, suck just like that, like that....."Her voice trailed off and I felt her other hand on my cock once again, sliding, sliding it ever so slow down her foamed furrow to her center, hot stickiness issuing forth. "For a moment we will meet now I think" she whispered. Scooting closer, she tipped her hips up and began to guide me inside."This is only for a short time" she warned. I have no protection from pregnancy. But you must feel a girl from the inside and I must feel you." She eased me in further, again slowly, watching my face. Suddenly she pushed forward and I was fully encased in that tiny pussy. Her mouth went slack as she impaled herself, so deeply. I felt something against my cocks head, her cervix perhaps. She hugged me and I held her small round ass with one hand, the other in her blonde tresses. Had she moved again, I would have spurted. Had she moved again, she would have cum. We sat immobile, listening to the blood pounding in our ears, both exactly at the cusp, her trembling and rigid, me throbbing, gasping, wanting to give in so bad. My sac tightened painfully with fresh need and the tickle in my belly was warning insistently. I took a deep breath. "I don't dare move. I swear, I can't or I'll go." "Me too. I want to grab you with my pussy muscles and just cum and cum. This is your lesson. It is called self control. As soon as it is safe, I will climb off. But now, ooh, you are not a virgin boy. You are a man. Are you happy?" "I am. I'm glad it's with you."I heard a door close in the building somewhere and heard footsteps climbing. "Are you more yourself yet?"Veronika flexed around my shaft, moving up slightly. "I think so." "Good, I will move just a little." She rocked her hips gently, watching my face intently. Milking me, pulling on me from within, easing up, easing back, tight at the base. Stopping." I am so wet!" she exclaimed." It is a torture, a sweet tor..." A key in the door, and it swung open. A young female face peering in. A question not in English. Veronika laughed, answering. The girl came in, wearing a body shirt, short skirt and leather boots. Walking over to us she began talking rapidly to my lover, staring at me. I was still buried to the hilt while being introduced. "Bunkie, this is Galena, my roommate companion. She is from Estonia and speaks Dutch but no English. She is waiting to get her permit to do what I do." Galena put her hand out, touching my chest, peering into my eyes. She giggled and asked Veronika something. She replied and both girls laughed. With each peal of laughter, Veroniks'a tight sheath contracted around me, inflaming me anew. I groaned. Veronika gazed at me, spoke to Galena. She answered, turned and peeled off her body shirt. Turning back, she slung the shirt on the other chair. Her heavy round orbs were framed by chestnut colored hair that matched her eyes. She took my hand and cupped her breast with it, grinning down at me. She began trailing her fingernails across my chest, tweaking my nipples and giggling. My end was beginning. Veronika knew it instantly and jumped up unsteadily. She gave a command to Galena, who reached down, grabbing my shaft and squeezed hard. She looked up at me as if to apologize and said something to me gently, then repeated the phrase again. Veronika opened a drawer in the table, removing a foil packet. She tried to get it to tear open, but it wouldn't tear. Galena let go of me, opened the packet and removed the condom. I could see fluid oozing copiously from me and hoped I hadn't spurted inside Veronika. I didn't want to betray her trust. But the combination of events, the lesson, the teasing and another girl touching me all at once was unbearable. They talked to each other as Galena rolled the sheath down my swollen length, Veronika directing. She leaned down and kissed my lips. "Thank you for doing your lesson so well." Galena had snugged her shirt back on. She came over to where I still sat, kissed my forehead and rubbed my face across her heavy tits. With a wave, she clattered out the door. Veronika sighed, watching the door close. "I hope she did not bother you. She thought we were done and had come to see if I was hungry." "It didn't bother me. But two of you at once...uh, well that was a lot." She sat back down in my lap. With a flick of her wrist, I was back within her familiar confines. She gave me five of six quick hard hunches back and forwards. "Ah well, just us now, let us see... where were we?" That soft giggle. I grabbed her flexing little ass and stood up, holding her. She looked up at me in surprise. She held onto my shoulders as I moved inside her, free of constraint. She locked her ankles behind my back and pushed back, smiling, a look of concentration returning as I plowed to her center, stopped and withdrew. "Go ahead" she muttered."I am yours. Take me. If you go slowly, we might fall together I think.' I entered her again. She tightened on me and shook her ass side to side in my hands as I pulled back. We went back and forth instinctual rhythm, an agile dance. Her blonde hair tickled my wrists, nails digging into my shoulders, tighter and tighter, feeling her center vibrate with each thrust, back and forth, her shimmy. Her breath caught in her throat. "Can you go faster now? I need it harder." She began ramming herself, matching my thrusts with force. My first spurt was unbidden, there before my comprehension. She knew it instantly, feeling my spasms. With a cry, she let go her control, clinging to me, her tiny butt pushing down and flexing, finishing us both as I groaned in relief, my urgent need finally receding. I put her down on the cot, still inside her, elbows holding me off her. Lazily she smiled. "Now you are a lover. There should be a form to sign, do you think?" Envisioning such a document, I started laughing and telling it how it should look, with an official seal in Dutch. She laughed too and got out from under me, removing my condom. She stood at the sink cleaning, then returned with a hot cloth. Gently wiping me she asked if I would return tomorrow. "If you do, Galena would like to be instructor. She'll take you to the middle room. I must be at another place, but that is the business." A soft chuckle. "She wanted me to tell you that you are handsome and she is not a scary person , just a girl. Her permit starts tomorrow and she wishes to start with one such as you." I thought about the larger girl, those heavy boobs rubbing in my face. "Tell her I'll be here. It'll be fun, even without an interpreter I guess." "Oh yes, sex is a universal spoken language. Everyone speaks it. But we will meet again. Here is the number to call for the telephone." I pulled on my clothes and kissed her as I left. Pieter was leaning against his official car down at street level. "So, I assume all the locks are in good shape up there?" I nodded happily and off we drove.