With a mouth like a sailor and the body of a ballerina she created a unique prospect for his first night in Amsterdam.
“I am a daughter of a wealthy family back home.” she said as she sipped her smoky whiskey and nonchalantly stuck a wad of gum on the leg of the nightstand. On your knees you need to get creative, he mused as he took in his new “date” starting in on his belt.
Half-drunk after dinner he had stumbled past her window before stopping. Time to get some relief. It was natural to drink and seek out these places he told himself, just not after what happened earlier.
When he spotted the name in the window, and her body, he had no choice. What are the chances of finding your lovers doppelganger looking at you over a cup of tea and newspaper while dressed in her lingerie. It was fate. His prayers answered.
He had his chance with the real deal at the hotel earlier and blew it like a sailor too dead ass drunk and full of himself. She had stormed out of the room sobbing and left him wandering the city looking for a confessional. How poetic that it was in this kneeling whore’s window that he chose and not nearby Noorderkerk cathedral. Desire had an interesting way of seeping into his cracks and pushing him off course.
Looking down at her fumbling at his belt, she was a dead ringer, full firm breasts, tall, slender with curves on curves, dark hair in a short bob and pony tail. Ok so maybe she hadn’t used the barre in a few years, but the stripper pole looked well used at least.
“Can I call you by your name when we are you know…working together? “ he asked, embarrassed at his question, the muted sounds of the red light district creeping in over his quiet ask.
“Honey you can call me whatever you like when I am on my knees “ she replied in a thick, underwhelming Eastern European accent.
“I don’t need your fucking money” she continued as reached for his belt “I am doing this because I love cock, your cock. Now let me see what I have to work with”. She said.
The cramped room, the cot in the corner, the pole, and the window with the red pulsing light out front left him worried he had taken on too much. The grating voice just another nail in any desire he felt. The way she smacked her lips like a cow chewing cudd left him laughing at himself and trying to find a way out.
She looked so similar and on point. Her breasts, her waist, slightly larger than a ballerina but my god did her body turn him on. The small, upturned nose, the black lace bra with one shoulder strap holding all the goods and the sweat on her chest revealed she had been busy that night. Everything but that voice was on point. Softness and adoration were replaced with the brass tacks of capitalism.
Standing there with his jeans and underwear he let her inspect what she had to work with. “Well tiger, you sure you don’t want a purple light? “ she said as she laughed and pulled on his limp cock with her thumb and pinky playfully and looked up at him.
“No seriously you look like this…” he started to explain before giving up “Could you just be quiet and let me…” Without saying another word, she got to her business plan and took his limp cock into her mouth before started coiling her tongue around it, like it was a piece of chewing gum. Working away on it he wasn’t sure if she was trying to blow him or a bubble. Her hands reached for her buzzing phone. Pleasantly distracted he could not maintain an erection. The uniqueness of the situation presented a challenge for the mental game.
How could he tune out the world like she did, chewing gum and on social media while sucking on a cock. Maybe that is her business model. Social media presence is so important nowadays. She was blissfully happy it seemed chewing gum and sucking dick, sucking dick and chewing gum while sitting on a pile of daddy’s money back home.
Reaching down he pushed the palm of his hand against her head to push her away.
“Sorry love, this isn’t working for me. You look like her but you aren’t her” he said dejected, as he stepped away to pull up his pants. Before she could say anything, he grabbed a fifty euro note, left it on the end table right next to her whisky and gum.
“Anytime dear. That is the quickest money I have made all night. That dick is hopeless anyways” she laughed as she popped another piece of gum into her mouth A bachelor party nearby erupted in cheers as they saw him leave. If they only knew, he said to himself, as he shook his head and smiled meekly.
“Your loss honey. The purple lights are that way love, now let me earn some money. “ she said as she shut the door on him and assumed her window perch, whisky in hand.
Working his way back to his hotel he passed the bachelor party, a few of which gave him a bro slap on the shoulders before they started chatting with her. All he could think of was her, and not the substitute look alike version that performed fellatio like a business deal. He walked back to his hotel, dejected.
Heading straight to the bathroom he started stripping off his clothes and turned on the shower to let it warm up. He had to wash. The feeling of filth wouldn’t leave. How could he have imagined that going any differently he laughed at himself. Standing silently in front of the mirror, steam rolling out of the shower with soft fury, he took in the view of his naked body. This was his confessional.
“Forgive me Lord” he said aloud. Confession completed.
Looking at himself, his bare chest, shoulders he still had an athletes build despite his age. His hair, slightly receding conveyed some type of wisdom, despite attempted efforts at proving otherwise. On the floor under the towel, he saw the black lace panties pulled off in haste.
He leaned down and delicately closed his fingers around the prize before pulling it to his face. He sucked in the air fervently. Maybe she had left them on purpose he mused. Her scent and the shortness of his deep breaths left him dizzy. Closing his eyes, he started rebuilding a mental map of her body, step by step, each curve on curve. The scent from her panties still thick with moisture reminded him of how close he was to finding god.
Veins starting to pulse, and breath started to wake from its slumber, desire still intact. He felt for her fingers, delicately touching, and worked his fingers as hers over his body, slowly feeling each bump, ridge and dimple of his naked body, his nipples, the tip of his cock.
Wrapping his hand around himself he coaxed the flaccid cock to a state of beauty until it arched upwards and bounced joyfully for him like a prize toy on a string. As he stared in the mirror as he imagined his ass pumping into her slowly working himself with purpose. He loved that view of his ass undulating like a soft wave pushing home.
Stepping into the shower still clutching panties, he leaned against the shower wall, arched his lower back and pushed his ass out to feel the warm water mingling down his back. He slowly pumped her in his dreams. Her scent just the right kick to leave him breathless and knees weak when during mid stroke
“Dan I thought I left my ….” her soft warm voice echoed up from his dreams
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/tt11s7/the_catfish_diaries_mf_part_1