Since I was invited to a meeting in the Netherlands, I determined to spend the weekends before and after exploring Amsterdam, a city that was new to me. My friend would be there also, and he could arrive a few days early as well. Not much persuasion was required to arrange the rendezvous: we have known each other since 2008 when we were students at adjacent universities, have similar though rapidly diverging professional interests, and became conference fuck buddies during the past year. This was our third assignation.
We visited the Rijksmuseum, stopped by the Concertgebouw to procure tickets, wandered the maze of bridges in the center of the city, ate at a little restaurant, drank beers at dusk seated at the edge of the canal, and made out against buildings in shameless exhibitions of public intimacy. Due to budgetary constraints, the bed and breakfast we booked happened to be located in the red light district; we would migrate to the more upscale conference hotel that someone else was paying for on Sunday evening. On our first night, we caught a sex show at a club, where I was impressed by the woman in the Princess Leia, slave girl on Tatooine get up who masturbated with a toy light saber. Due to jet lag, we called it an early night, had a quickie, and slept.
I showered first in the morning. Dressed in panties, denim skirt, and bra, I was busy applying makeup and inveigling my hair to behave when he exited the bathroom.
"Come 'ere," he said, dropping the towel. He hadn't dried thoroughly: water beaded over his torso.
I kissed the droplets from his skin, nibbled at the masculine nipples, and ran hands over the muscles of his chest and abdomen. My nails raked his shoulders and back when he brought me into a hug. As we made out, I sucked on his lips and tongue — they tasted of toothpaste — and brought his hands to my breasts.
Sinking on the balls of my toes, I pressed my palm over the penis, which was thick and hung low even while flaccid. Lifting it, I kissed teasingly above the balls and licked a zig-zag up the underside to the wide glans. The phallus stiffened to attention as I brushed my cheek along the side. I pouted my lips over the head, filled my mouth with saliva, and swallowed. I went down over the front half of the shaft, rotating my face while both hands held the lower part of his erection, their grip twisting softly, pinky fingers pushing the testicles forward in the sac.
Removing the bra, I smashed my breasts together around the shaft and let him ride against my sternum. He stooped to kiss me.
When I returned to cocksucking, my companion leaned against the wall and, hands on his buttocks, showed his pelvis to me. Lips tight on the circumcision scar, tongue playing round and round, swirling, lifting, licking the aperture, snailing, slithering, I slurped noisily at the head, stroked the shaft with a half moon of fingers, and cradled and tugged and caressed the scrotum, all the while listening to his sighs of pleasure.
After he came, I spit the semen onto his cock, let it dribble down the length, collected it with my fingers, which I sniffed and licked clean while staring into his eyes. Drooling the come out again over my breasts, I repeated the gesture and rolled it in my mouth to savor his flavors.
Though I knew that the kitchen downstairs would be closing soon, it was my turn to achieve an orgasm, and I wasn't prepared to wait until evening to accomplish this task. We didn't need to discuss it: he pushed me supine on the bed. Hands on my thighs entered the cave of my skirt and discovered that the exercise of fellatio had rendered my pussy damp. He unbuttoned the skirt and unzipped the fly and hauled it down my legs while I wiggled my hips to assist. The thong, a vivid cornflower blue, followed.
He licked me. His lips pulled gently at the thick folds of the vulva. His tongue slipped past the labia, which his thumbs held open, and for long minutes explored the opening of my vagina. The pads of his fingers stroked the trimmed hair on my pubis as he patiently tended to my clitoris. Fingers that combed his hair also pushed down on the back of his head. Knees pointed at the ceiling, my thighs gripped the sides of his face. He grabbed a tit, kneaded the flesh roughly, and pressed the digits of his right hand into my cunt. I moaned as he spun the two fingers, which had sunk in the whole way, scissored them apart, then brought them together and stabbed in and out rapidly, like they were his cock. He held my arm against the pillow while he nursed forcefully, sucking hard on the breasts, biting, the hand below finger fucking faster, the wetness within audible over my keening sounds. Walls of the vagina contracting about his fingers, I came, a small orgasm, but intensely pleasurable and satisfying and ultimately sweet on the tongue.
He stood on the mattress. Hair in my eyes, hands pushing off from the backs of his thighs, I deepthroated the cock from under the arch of his legs, and when the stem was suitably rigid, unrolled a condom. His hands clutched my thighs and pulled me against his pelvis. I stepped my soles over his chest and kicked the balls of my feet from his shoulders. On his knees, he fucked me in a steady rhythm. The cock dragged out so that only the head was inside and muscled inward until the balls pressed down against the opening.
When he tumbled forward, my legs separated to make room and vined against his calves, and my arms wrapped his body. Fingers tightened on his ass to fit his body nearer to mine. The cock drove at me. Flesh and tissue and muscle and bone absorbed the kinetic energy of his thrusts. The mattress bowing beneath me, the bedsprings squealing, my head rocked sideways on the pillow, and I clawed the white sheets. My breasts flattened as he slammed into me. He panted heavily, to which I responded with gasps of my own. The patina of perspiration on our skin nullified the ablutions from before. I smelled our odors, the unmistakable musk of my pussy, the scents of arousal that seeped from my pores, the nameless pheromones that accompanied the adrenaline rush and made my nostrils flare, the gloss on his face, his hot breath.
He drove his hand along my flank, captured my underarm, and squeezed, the unexpected movement sending me askew. Under his power, I capitulated to the surge of sensation in my loins and compressed the muscles inside to heighten the friction that his erection encountered.
He grimaced.
Announcing his name, I kissed his shoulder as he spilled in multiple bursts. The spasms of his shaft triggered another orgasm in me. I shattered from within, and the experience rippled along my spine to the brainstem and extremities.
During our week together, my orgasms evolved, becoming more frequent and profound.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3s9t8i/amsterdam_mf