My Ex-Files Ch. 02: Amsterdam Sleaze

Names have been changed to protect the guilty. The innocent can count on God.

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My first serious long-term relationship was when I was a student. I'll call him Mike. He introduced me to smoking weed and quite a few other vices along the way. He was also responsible for one of the sluttiest, sleaziest things I have ever done. Well, partly responsible - most if it was down to me. Let me explain.

One Easter break we caught a cheap flight to Amsterdam for a long weekend, spent the nights in a tiny tent in a backpackers' campsite and the days mostly getting wrecked in coffee shops.

On our second evening we'd wandered into the red light district. At the time I thought it was purely accidental, although with hindsight I guess Mike might have known exactly what he was doing. Either way, I didn't mind. Like millions of rude British tourists before us, we wandered the narrow streets between the canals, gaping in astonishment at the girls sitting in the window, never quite naked but never far off it. We were high as kites, giggling like k**s. I was teasing Mike, insisting that he tell me which of the girls he would most like to fuck. He turned the tables on me by saying "if we pay one of those girls, it will be for a threesome, so you better decide." I laughed it off but every window we passed after that made me think ever more indecent thoughts about those girls.

That was never going to happen, or all our bravado neither of us would have had the courage to see it through, but we were getting hornier and hornier the more we joked about it. Mike asked me if I'd ever been inside a sex shop, and the honest answer was no. Back then I wasn't even quite sure what is sold in shops like that. As we were passing a large shop down a side-alley, Mike took my hand and said: "Come on, let's have a look."

Inside, I stopped still and stared around like a babe in a sweetshop. In the cases along the walls were fetish clothes and toys, latex dresses and masks, whips, manacles and harnesses. There were schoolgirl uniforms and maid costumes, mannequins wearing peephole bras and skimpy g-strings. There were vibrators, dildoes and buttplugs of all shapes and sizes and some contraptions which - even today - I'm baffled about what they were.

But mostly I was awestruck by the porn. There were racks and racks and racks of magazines and DVDs. You should understand this was the late 90s, the days before broadband, I'd only ever seen the internet at college. I'd once seen a grainy old VHS porn film in German and a few Playboy style magazines that my girlfriends had stolen from their older brothers to giggle about at sleepovers. I was vaguely aware that hardcore porn existed, but I had barely seen any of it.

Now I was staring at covers - just the covers - of these mags and DVDs showing guys and girls fucking in every possible combination, every possible way. There were girls swallowing dicks that were bigger than I ever thought dicks could get. There were girls being fucked in the cunt and the ass and the mouth, all at once. There was loads of gay porn which I had never seen in my life before and I knew instantly I loved it, these beautiful boys sucking on smooth hard cocks, men posing with erections, gazing into the camera with a look in their eyes that said they were begging to be fucked. My heartbeat was racing, it was all so overwhelming. Mike picked out a magazine and flicked through it while I panted beside him.

At some point I began to realise I was the only woman in the shop. I hadn't paid much attention to the customers when I came in, there were too many distractions, but there were around half a dozen men in the shop and most of them seemed to be at least glancing at me surreptitiously, while one or two were unashamedly staring at me, checking out my body. I wasn't wearing anything sexy, just a pair of tight jeans and a vest-style t-shirt, but I began to feel like I was being undressed in their minds. I confess the thought just made me more turned-on.

As we wandered up and down the aisles, browsing through magazines, reading the backs of DVD cases, occasionally giggling at an exceptionally huge cock, pausing to admire a particularly perfect pair of tits or make ewwww faces at the wee and p*o speciality titles. Then at the back of the store, disappearing around the corner, was a section of the shop with sign saying 'VIDEO BOOTHS.' Beneath it there were about half a dozen stalls, looking a bit like a row of cubicles in the ladies.

I can't remember if we even discussed it. I think it was a telepathic decision, or perhaps he just decided for us and I didn't even pause to question it, but the next thing I knew Mike had fed a handful of Euros into a slot, opened a door into a booth and led me inside.

As we closed and latched the door behind us a TV monitor halfway up the wall sprang into life. There were no niceties, titles or introductions, it just leapt immediately into an explicit orgy scene. I looked around, the booth was about the size of a disabled toilet and I noticed the white plasterboard walls were pretty thin, with a few holes here and there.

The floor was tiled and sloping with a drain in the corner, like a shower. I remember finding that odd and then immediately finding more interesting things to focus on. Like the three naked girls on the screen, their legs, arms and mouths all over a single guy, writhing in a knot on a mattress.

Mike looked at the screen for a minute or two away from the screen and kissed me hard, passionately, almost violently, sucking on my tongue, biting my bottom lip, he was hurting me but I was so past caring, I wanted him to eat me whole with that kiss. He pressed a hand over my boob, squeezing hard, pressing against it, I was more aroused than I had ever been in my life, I was lost in the moment as he broke away from the kiss, still squeezing my breast. We both turned back to the screen, breathing heavily. On screen a pretty blonde girl had a huge cock in her hand and she was licking it all over, rubbing it between her tits then swallowing it deep into her mouth. I'd never seen anything like it before. I'd only ever given blowjobs by sort of kissing the tip while I stroked the shaft with my hands. I didn't know how to do what I was seeing. But I knew I wanted to.

I placed my hand on the huge bulge at the front of Mike's jeans. Almost immediately he pulled open his belt & button and pushed my hand inside, onto his cock. I squeezed it and whispered in his ear while he watched the performance on screen. "Do you want me do that to you when we get back to the tent?" I asked.

"No," he replied firmly. It wasn't the answer I expected and I looked at him, puzzled, before he added "I want you to do that to me now."

"Here?"

"Yes, here, please Sindy babe, I want you to suck me off, so bad, please."

There was no going back from here. I was about to drop to my knees when he caught me and raised my arms toward the ceiling, then in one tug he lifted my t-shirt up and off, threw it to the floor. I reached behind him, unfastened my bra, and pressed the palm of his hand hard onto my nipple. I pulled his jeans and pants down his thighs and then couldn't resist opening my own jeans, and pulling them down over my ass, just enough to let me get my fingers into my panties and touch myself. It felt like my pussy had melted into hot water, I was so wet, so swollen, my fingers almost got sucked in when I touched myself. Then I dropped to my knees.

Mike's cock looked simply delicious. Hard as a rock and pointing straight up at my chin as I rested it between my big soft tits and squeezed them together, just like I'd seen on the screen. I stroked his shaft between my tits and looked up. Mike caught my eye then turned his face back to the screen. I turned my attention back to is cock. Licking around the tip I sucked slowly, steadily, my cheeks pursing as I sucked him into my mouth, over my tongue. Just at the point where I would have normally used my hand to stroke him, I kept that hand between my own legs and I sucked him harder. I felt the head of his cock push against the back of my throat and I almost gagged but calmed myself, breathing heavily through my nose and then I found that if I gulped gently, as if taking a drink, I could take him even deeper, swallowing him into my throat. His cock felt huge in my mouth, rubbing against my throat, until I was nearly ready to choke and then I pulled away, gasping for breath and opened my eyes. And that was when I screamed.

It wasn't a horror movie scream, it was a yelp of surprise, like a startled puppy, but it was enough to alarm Mike who looked at me with sudden concern. I jumped up suddenly and pressed myself to his body in a semi-naked hug and spluttered in an overexcited stage whisper... "THERE'S SOMEONE THERE! WATCHING!"

When I had opened my eyes after deep throating for the very first time, I had seen one wide eyeball staring back at me through a hole in the wall. The hole was a good few inches across so I could see quite clearly the eye on the other side of the spyhole, watching me. It was just about waist height so our voyeur had been getting a perfect eyeline view from only about 18 inches distance. For the second time in a few minutes, Mike surprised me again. He laughed. Then he spun me around to stare toward the screen, my naked ass pressed back against his hard cock and he ran his hands smoothly across my naked tits.

"I know" he said.

"You knew?"

"He came into the booth about two minutes after we came into ours. And you know what else?"

"What?"

"There's someone else there." He pointed to the other wall. Sure enough, about halfway up, the light was blocked out from one of the spyholes and when I focused, I saw movement behind it. That was when I realised I wasn't here to watch a porn show. I was here as the star of a porn show.

So many thoughts ran through my head at once. I was panicking, embarrassed, blushing with shame. And at the same time I was ridiculously turned on. A bit of me wanted to get my clothes back on and run out of the shop at a gallop. At the same time, I felt Mike's fingers rolling my nipples and my cunt was turning inside out and my head was spinning and I realised that some very important part of me wanted to play the dirtiest slut in the whole of Amsterdam. Mike ran his hand down my belly and rested a finger on my clit. "Please babe," he whispered "You can't leave me like this."

I think I just needed him to tell me what to do. I turned back around and fell to my knees on the tiles once more. As I wrapped my lips around Mike's cock he took my head in his hands and began sliding in and out of my mouth, gently at first. I took hold of his hips, trying to stop him from pushing too hard but he was too strong for me to hold him back much, or too desperate to fuck my face. I glanced around at the screen on the wall and the guy was cumming like a firework display, spurting white slippery goo all over the pretty girl's face. Mike gripped my face hard and I felt his body go rigid, his buttocks clenching, he let out a low slow moan and then I felt the first wet spurt of cum hit the back of my throat. I had no choice but to swallow or drown. I gulped him down while he thrust... short... Hard... strokes... one... by... one... Until I had swallowed every drop. I let go of his hips and pressed one hand back to my clitoris, fingering myself to an orgasm.

That's when the final surprise of my evening occurred. Next to me, where here had been the wide-eyed observer, there was now another dick in the room. It was longer and thinner than Mike's and I remember stifling the giggles. Even in the insanely horny state I was in, it was pretty funny. I looked at Mike and shrugged silently as if to gesture

"What do I do?"

Mike smiled. "I think he wants you to suck it" he said. I gasped and threw my hand in front of my mouth, shaking my head, wide eyed in my conflicting emotions. I was genuinely confounded, it was all too much. I realised the screen had gone blank again. Our coins must have run out. I tentatively reached across and touched the lonely prick with one fingertip. It jerked like a puppet on a string. I placed all five fingers around it and very gently stroked upwards and it started bobbing like a jack in the box. I was making OH MY GOD! faces at Mike and he was nodding enthusiastically, encouraging me. With my hand wet from my own cunt, I gripped the shaft at the bottom, squeezed firmly, then slid my hand up and down, just once or twice. That was all it took. A sudden spurt of cum squirted over my hand and up my arm. I squealed and shook it off me onto the floor while the disembodied cock kept spurting, splash after splash. Then

it just stood there for a few seconds, dribbling and slowly deflating before slipping out of view. A squeak and a click told us that whoever he had been, he was already elsewhere.

This had all been obscenely slutty fun but the total strangers jizz on my hand was over a limit for me, a bit like suddenly sobering up from a wild sex trip. I gestured to Mike to pass me my shoulderbag & I retrieved a packet of wet wipes (never leave home without them, gals) and did my best to wipe clean my hand and arm and got myself dressed again.

When we stepped out of the booth, trying our hardest to look as if nothing had happened, I was convinced every man in the shop would be staring at me, pointing, laughing. It was almost disappointing when no one appeared to be paying us the slightest bit of attention. Was that a smirk on the face of the guy over there? Who knows. We did buy a dirty magazine and a vibrator and took them back to our tent, where we put both to very good use.

When we went our separate ways, I kept the toy. I'm not sure what happened to the mag but I bet Mike still has it somewhere. Seemed only fair. It brought me many years of pleasure, and every time I used it I'd cast a dirty thought or two back to the shop where I had bought it. Maybe somewhere in the world Mike still has the occasional wank to that Dutch porn mag and thinks of me while he does. I do certainly hope so.

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