Eurotrip Pt. 02

Within about 10 minutes from John connecting with the crew, they arrived at the sex shop, but this wasn't just any old sex shop like the ones back in the states. Becky, Camilla, and even Janice skipped through the largest selection of porn and toys that any of them had ever seen. They were like kids in a candy shop. Feeling consistencies, smacking each other with dildos, picking up whips and spanking a nearby mannequin wearing a skimpy ballerina outfit. They seemed to be having a great time, but Becky never took her focus off the task, which was to locate that butt plug so she could enjoy the feeling of being stuffed all day, when she wasn't already being stuffed by Craig and Bailey, that is.

Becky decided that her husband could definitely assist her in this endeavor, so she separated from the group and joined up with him, arm-in-arm. She knew that Camilla and Janice would probably have some insights, as well, but even though they knew the buttons to push to make Becky squirt like a geyser, John, despite his indiscretions, was a skilled lover and caused her to have such intense orgasms, her thighs would quake. So he would do. Besides, she wanted him to try to enjoy what he could enjoy. This should be one of those fun moments within an otherwise abysmal day for John.

John's hands were perpetually in his pockets. His body language was tight, tense, making every effort to not put eyes on his wife for fear that he would see something that would turn the world red. At times, he felt like he could actually kill. He kept this inner monologue to himself.

"Hey baby," John called out to Becky before she made it to him.

"What's up?"

"Look." He pointed at something with the name "The Artillery Shell". It was a butt plug, yellow, clear. The initial impression made on Becky was its thickness. At it's thickest point, it was as round as a baseball bat, before tapering off and locking itself in whatever hole it entered. Inside, a solid piece of metal containing a very powerful motor that gave life to a vibrating core. The outer body was covered in these small protrusions or bumps that looked inviting. When Becky turned on the item to feel the strength of the vibration, both she and John, who both had a hand on it, became startled and dropped it.

"FOUND IT!" she yelled to the others. "Well, no more reason to shop." She smiled and gleefully kissed her husband on the cheek. He leaned into the kiss and smiled, bashfully, proud of his ability to immediately spot the one toy, in a store inundated with options, that Becky would enjoy most. He thought to himself, "They may have her tonight, but those fuckers don't know her heart like me". For the first time, he began to hold his chin a bit higher.

After the purchase was made, she asked if there was a "fitting room". The proprietor chuckled when Craig translated into his native Dutch, and he pointed toward a curtain. Craig and Bailey knew better than to just assume, but when Becky said, "C'mere. I may need help," in her most sinister tone, the two gave a look toward John, who gestured as if to say, "Well you best follow her!" And so they did, almost tripping over each other on the way.

What the three saw when they closed the curtain and allowed their eyes to adjust to the darkness was a bevy of activity. Both men and women all in different sorts of combinations performing a litany of mild to wild sexual acts upon each other with no walls to act as barriers. An exhibitionist's/voyeur's wet dream!!!!

There was a plexiglass partition with space for the three to check out the features of Becky's new toy. That's where she headed and they followed. On the other side of this partition was a woman being fucked by a man wearing a mask. The mask was of a dog. The man's cock was enormous and it got Becky jealous enough to cause some drama. So her escorts would understand her instruction, she spoke and gestured very slowly.

"Okay, do you see them?" Her head moved slightly to indicate the couple on the other side of the partition. Both confirmed. "I don't want to stop them. But I do want to invite whoever that guy in the dog mask is to wherever we go tonight. Do you have an idea where we'll go tonight?" She glanced back. Now she was sitting on some sort of bench with her back against the wall and her head against the partition. Becky was in clear view of the guy skull fucking the woman, who was wide open and willing. He must have been over 10 inches, uncut, so thick that he must need to sew sandwich bags together to make condoms, and once he buried himself to the hilt, the head of his cock was probably somewhere near the upper part of her sternum, but she took it. She didn't even gag. Becky was rightly impressed. She continued explaining her plan to the guys.

"Now, I'm going to lean against this glass. Unwrap the dildo." They did as asked. "Now do whatever you want as long as when you're done, that big fat toy is locked inside my ass. Okay?" They understood and Becky leaned facing the glass with her ass, as yet, unexposed, facing outward, awaiting Craig and Bailey's next move. Becky just stared at the masked stranger as he stared back at her, completely wrapped in each other, but each engaged in their own separate sexual depravity. Even the masked man's partner attempted to see what was going on in her peripherals. Cock in mouth, her eyes would, from time to time, drift upward to try to make out what her partner was focusing in on, but his ravenous assault on her mouth gave her entirely too much distraction.

As she continued to spy through the glass, occasionally looking downward to glimpse the man's cock, Becky also began to feel the tip of her new inanimate companion starting to pry her ass open, but without lube, the process was going to take a very long time. Bailey came up with the perfect remedy. Craig removed the toy and Bailey buried his face between Becky's pillowy cheeks, using his tongue both in and around her tight rear entry. Becky moaned among the chorus of bellows, moans, screams, and slapping sounds that arrived, in stereo, from all around the back of this modern day Sodom and Gomorrah, comforted by the fact that just prior to their departure from the hostel, she spent time in the bathroom freshening up to avoid any nonnative scents invading her evening. She quickly scanned the room, observing men with women, men with other men with women, women with other women with men, and both women and men playing solo. With all this going on around her, along with Bailey's tongue and fingers working her ass into a wide gaping tunnel, she almost passed out from the unfamiliarity of it all. Suddenly, she missed John, but no way was she going to leave before she accomplished her mission and alternate mission.

First, she placed one hand on each cheek and opened to reveal a figure-hugging, pink, and clenched anus, never letting her gaze falter from the two on the other side of the partition, who were now engaging in a rough session of anal sex. As his cock entered his partner's ass, it seemed he was squeezing himself through the opening of a soda bottle as his foreskin would wrinkle from being forced inside a space far too small for such a large package. To Becky, the masked man was intoxicatingly huge. It was her added quest to get his attention to invite him to whatever the guys had in store for her. Soon, Craig had a hold of the toy and was really weighing it down further inside Becky, stretching her so wide, the pain made her squirt. Her juices shot out and splashed off a chair beneath her. Both men soaked their hands and began massaging the fluid back into her crotch. "So dirty," she thought, as fingers rubbed and manipulated her nether region. Her legs shook, knees buckled, but she remained on her feet and almost threw in the towel from the pain, but then heard Bailey say, "Close, baby. Very close!"

Another minute passed and she felt her battered o-ring accept and close in around the plug's widest point. A sigh of relief audibly and simultaneously resounded from all three of them. Becky turned so both her new acquaintances could observe. "Hey, guys. What are we doing tonight? I like the idea of a club. You?"

"Club is good. We do club. You did hear of place call The Light? Very big crowd. Many men. Girls, too. Young. Old. Keep you busy as long as you want."

"Okay, sounds promising." She walked around the partition to speak to the masked man and gave him her number and her plans to go to this new frontier. Then, she returned. If all works out in her favor, Becky will have, at least, 3 invitees at tonight's club gathering, but she suspected that this number would grow exponentially once a crowd saw the open invite.

They opened the black curtain to reveal the open space of the novelty shop. The lights shown brighter than when they passed through the curtain earlier so they needed time to adjust. Once they did, Camilla and Janice appeared, both looking at lingerie and groping each other as they enjoyed the features of a pair of red-laced leggings that Camilla was considering for her subservient querida.

Becky tapped both on the shoulders and they turned. She couldn't wait to show off her high pain threshold, so as soon as her new Brazilian friends turned, she turned, as well, and lifted her skirt to reveal her ass to them. They were both very turned on by the sight of Becky's heart-shaped ass being pried apart by this monster butt plug. Both fell upon her, touching skin wherever it was exposed and tapping and pulling on the base of the plug so the vibrations would be felt deep inside Becky's third input. Becky hadn't seen an atmosphere like this in any of the sex shops in the states. The three girls touching each other seemed to go unnoticed by other patrons, like it was an everyday thing.

"Where's John," she queried?

"He went to el báno. He has been in there for long time," she added. All present knew the delicate situation they were in. John was unpredictable, a possible ticking time bomb. He was the only unknown factor, the one who could truly ruin this night.

A short time passed before John appeared from the bathroom. Becky walked gingerly to her betrothed and put her arms around his waist, whispering, "Put your hands on my ass.....Feel."

John slowly allowed his hands to traverse past her waist and down to her little bottom where he was immediately able to feel the size of the plug and how it stretched her. But he knew what he was going to feel already since he saw it as it was being forced inside her.

When Becky, Craig, and Bailey had been behind the curtain for about 5 minutes, John excused himself to the bathroom. Only he hadn't gone to the bathroom immediately. He peaked behind the curtain. He couldn't bare the idea of Becky being hurt with him not there as her protector, so he went to be sure she was okay. What happened next, not even he expected. As he pulled back the black curtain and stepped beyond, much was happening that didn't interest John, in the least, until he saw Becky staring into the eyes of the masked man while the plug was forcibly persuading her anus to give it access. John, suddenly and without warning, couldn't stop himself from jerking off. After his pants were off, he pumped his cock three times to elicit a few well travelled ropes of his cock juice that landed in long strands before him on the wood-slated floor. Seeing his wife in this prone and helpless position, to his shock, turned him on!! As soon as he drained his balls of semen, he rushed through the curtain, asked where he could relieve himself, and followed the clerks finger that pointed to the location of the nearest bathroom.

For a long time, he just stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, even as other men passed him either on their way in or on their way out. How would it play out if he admitted this to Becky? Would she seek retribution in some other way, in a way more apropos of John's distastes. No! He would not let this be seen by her or any of her temporary companions. This is the challenge as far as John saw it. If he watches, how long can he endure the pressure of enjoying the view while not gratifying himself? How can he act unenthusiastic as his mind bends sideways from watching Becky's perky tits jump around her chest while she's attacked from all sides? He wasn't confident about either of these hurdles.

His gaze broke. He washed his hands, splashed water on his face, and prepared it so he would look dejected to the rest of the bunch. After all, he was being punished....

John pierced the threshold of the bathroom, hands in pockets. Becky didn't like seeing him like this, but when else would this opportunity present itself in this way ever again.

She went to him, turned, lifted her skirt, and gave her man an eyeful of dildo in ass. To John's credit, he managed to retain his look of utter sorrow as his insides roiled and danced around with the excitement he would feel witnessing as her entire body would be broken, plugged airtight, and left to lay in a puddle of cum that she, herself, wanted to be the centerpiece of. His cock jumped in his pants, but his poker face was what all who watched were given.

Now, the sun had gone down. It was dusk. Dusk in Amsterdam was beautiful. It was when streetlights came on. Some smaller villages actually had streetlights that were lit by people with long sticks and a fire at the end. These streetlights were actually candles shroud in opaque glass, like lanterns sitting atop long black poles providing an interesting twist of shadows that shook with every small gust of wind changing the fire's direction. As the evening grew darker, coffee shops contributed their interior lights to help shine the cobblestone streets. Even John couldn't help his gaze out at all his surroundings, which cast a look of contentment on the only forlorn face in the crowd.

Becky just got more and more excited at the myriad of possibilities that lie ahead. Her face was flush red with blood filling her cheeks and forehead. This was how she looked when she really wanted something. She walked, arm-in-arm, with Craig on her one side, Bailey on the other. This was the one thing that actually did bother John. The three of them together were so beautiful to look at, he couldn't have walked into a designer clothing store and seen a more photogenic trio on an ad poster. Even Camilla and Janice, who walked in close proximity, stopping independently to window shop now and again, had a glow to them. From time to time, he grew jealous, until he remembered the end game. Then his jealousy would be transformed into a watered down bitterness.

For the five of them, this whole day was nothing but build up. As a wise man once said, "....the deep breath before the plunge." The plunge seemed such a perfect word to describe Becky's slow descent into depravity. She wanted, but never acted on, this since as long as she could recall masturbating, even before John, but the plunge is found in the fact that she never acted upon her urges. Now, quite suddenly, all those urges of hers would be served up in one glorious act, and wherever her friends were taking her, that would be her stage. John couldn't have been more stoked for this to happen. The only one more enraptured was his wife.

John observed as both Craig and Bailey suddenly pointed and changed directions with Becky, heading down the same path as their fingers indicated. They approached to the sound of deep, deep techno. It was a clean baseline, along with a constant and tonal hum. The sound, along with the context of their visit to this earthbound Valhalla, seemed to change the gravity of the situation, because, all at once, Becky, Craig, Bailey, Camilla, and Janice fell into a complete silence. John was in the rear, just watching.

They entered the club with no one watching the entrance or carding anyone. Becky mentioned how freeing it felt not to be policed like they are back home. "Right honey?" Becky used this point to bring John into the group discussion.

John actually expounded, "Yeah. I hate to say it, but having been all over the world, it's clear that Americans are the most policed citizens of any country that I've been to, at least. You can burn tires in protest in Pakistan, drink when you're 13 years old in France, and fuck your neighbor outside in your front yard in São Paulo. You know that, señoritas."

Camilla and Janice looked on with interest. Camilla asked, "Even in Brazil?"

John had to laugh, "Are you serious? The difference is night and day!" Inside, John was starting to become impatient with this, otherwise interesting, conversation. This wasn't the time. With the attention on him, he urged the group forward just by raising his eyebrows and flicking his eyes down the long corridor, adorn with streams of blue-green lights, images of people dancing, and strobes every 5 feet.

They had been there over an hour, sometimes dancing, always drinking, and the girls flirting with every guy they saw, even Camilla, who, until this moment, never divulged that she was bisexual. Everyone was high on anticipation when Becky attempted to yell over the music, saying, "I have to use the little girl's room!!"

"Que?!!"

"El baño!!"

"Want company," Camilla offered.

"Absolutely!" Becky had a feeling Camilla would be quite useful with this new found knowledge about her sexual proclivities.

They broke from the group. It was around 11pm.

As they walked toward the bathrooms, the two of them cut off the path they were making toward the women's bathroom and diverged, bravely, if not intentionally, to the men's bathroom. The rest of the group, who knew what was going on and how this was going to turn out, saw the two change directions and their silhouetted bodies disappear through the wrong door. Craig and Bailey, as if they were just told that the meaning of life could be found behind a tile on the wall in the men's bathroom, we're the next to break from the group and race to the men's room. Janice and John, having nothing in common and not really having said a word to each other, awkwardly, both stared at the door that 4 of their companions had just gone through until John, like a gentleman, bought Janice a stiff drink, excused himself, and slowly drew open the same door his wife passed through seconds ago.

Upon entering, he couldn't initially see where any of the familiar faces were, aside from two sets of shoes, unfamiliar to him, in two different stalls. There was a smell of unwashed urinals and the urinal cakes at the bottom of each of these troughs didn't help mask the smell, but intensified it. A checkered white and orange tile pattern along the wall gave off an illusion that the walls were moving or somehow wiggling. He could see how a drunk could walk into this bathroom in search of a toilet to puke in and not make it before hurling up every drop of Sambuca he just finished after glancing for 3 seconds at this twisted wall of tiles.

After about 30 seconds, he heard a faint and high-pitch sigh. It was a satisfied sound coming from one of the two stalls containing a person, more than likely, masturbating. John began to worry after several moments of not being able to put eyes on his wife when he finally received confirmation of her whereabouts. One of the stalls that contained only one pair of shoes now contained two and the other pair was Becky, who must have been standing on the toilet for someone reason. The other pair of feet, as demure as Becky's, could only have been Camilla's.

John was bemused. What was Becky doing in a bathroom stall with Camilla? He went in for clarity, approaching with delicate footfalls. A crack where the door meets the frame revealed both girls were without tops, rubbing their chests together, kissing each other, and aggressively rubbing, petting, or just straight out grabbing at the other's body. John nearly shot in his pants right there at the stall door.