This is a story of pure fiction, involving graphic descriptions
of sex between an adult and underage boy and girl. Romany does
not condone child abuse but defends the freedom of thought and
right to expression. If this type of content offends you, close
this page NOW! If you choose to read on you must be 18 years or
older. If you are not LEAVE!!!

Any similarities to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.



Amsterdam

By 

Romany

(M/b, M/g)

I returned to Amsterdam twenty five years after my first visit. I
had last gone there while backpacking around Europe before going
to college. At the time I was on a short schedule and never
really allowed myself the opportunity to investigate some of the
more permissive attributes of this beautiful city. In the interim
years I had graduated as an electronics engineer, married, had
two kids, and divorced just over five years ago. Unlike my
ex-wife, I had not met anyone to whom I had an attachment to
contemplate a second marriage. My wife had married the man she
had the affair with, that led to our divorce. Our son Mike and
daughter Karen had lived with her and her new husband and the
relationship between all of us was healthy and mature with little
overhanging rancor on my part. Certainly Mike and Karen abetted
that; both showing a remarkable maturity in treating their mother
and I equally and fairly. I had had a number of relationships,
any one of which I could have pursued more fervently. But I was
more interested in a relationship without marriage. Unfortunately
two partners saw this as a sign of lack of commitment and the
relationships foundered.

Despite my marital hiccup, my career was successful and looked
likely to remain that way, so I had elected to take a sabbatical,
following the demise of my last relationship which had lasted for
over two years. So I flew to the UK with the plan to explore the
parts of Europe I had remembered as the most enjoyable on my
previous visit. At forty five years of age, I felt it time to
live for myself; for a few months at least. I had hired a car and
already toured the length of Britain. Following that I spent a
few days in Ireland and now I had arrived in Amsterdam following
a ferry trip across the English Channel. Unfortunately this June
day was overcast and rather cool and following a trip on the
canal boats and a pleasant late lunch just off the Dam Square in
central Amsterdam, I wandered about for a couple of hours and
then finally I set off back to my small low cost hotel as dusk
was setting. As I negotiated the narrow streets leading to the
hotel I happened to randomly glance at a young boy standing
inside the doorway of a small boutique. Most of the shops were
closed or closing and he was standing just inside the entrance
way. It was one of those moments when one glance invited a return
glance which in turn caused me to look inquiringly at the boy as
if somehow he knew me. In turn he took my second glance as some
sort of recognition and continued to match my gaze. I stopped,
somewhat perplexed at the apparent interest the boy had,
following my initial glance. I looked at him waiting to see if
there was something had wanted to say. He didn�t move but just
stared at me. I shrugged and decided it was a misunderstanding. I
couldn�t possibly know him or him know me. I started to move off
when he spoke. He spoke in Dutch so I had no idea what was said.

�I�m sorry I only speak English� I said in response to his words.

�Is there something I can do for you?� he asked in very good
English.

He had taken a couple of paces towards me and I was able to see
him more clearly. He was about twelve or thirteen years of age
with light brown hair that was probably overdue for a trim or at
least a good combing. He wore a dark anorak, navy blue sweatshirt
with �Ajax� arched across the chest, and dark blue jeans. On his
feet he wore a pair of black trainers. He was of medium height
and build for a kid his age.

�Ah, no� I answered, unsure of why he thought I wanted something.

�Perhaps you can be lost� he suggested. �I could show you how to
get to where you need be� he said.

The grammar wasn�t perfect but the words were very well spoken.
What struck me was the way he looked at me. It was almost a
knowing look as if he knew something about me.

�No. I am not lost� I answered. �My hotel is just a block or two
further along here.�

�Perhaps I can escort you sir� he said with an inquiring look.
�If I help you, you may like to buy me some food� he added.

So that was it. He was trying to mooch a meal.

�Haven�t you got a home to go to?� I asked.

He flinched visibly at my tone and he looked troubled at my
words.

�No sir� he answered flatly.

Oh shit. I realized I had struck a nerve. He was a street kid. I
stood and looked at him, feeling somewhat embarrassed I�d missed
his obvious predicament. He looked away and pushed his hands into
his anorak pockets. I thought he may be going to cry but he
looked back and, almost as if he had summoned some inner strength
he spoke again.

�Would you buy me some food� he said directly.

In my book this was begging. I had a strict view on beggars. I
believed it was the community�s responsibility to take care of
their own and not place the burden on ordinary folks who get
propositioned while going about their normal business. In short I
was hard-assed about beggar�s plight. I stood and stared at him.
Ordinarily I would have simply waved an overture like this off,
but there was something about his initial attention to me that
made me curious to find out more about him. But before I could
consider an answer he completely threw me with his next comment.

�We can feel good together afterwards� he added, staring me in
the eye.

I was left in no doubt he had made an oblique overture to reward
me with sex, if I bought him a meal. I�m not sure if my mouth
actually dropped open but I certainly felt I must have appeared
shocked to him as I stood somewhat dumfounded. I had always
enjoyed more than my fair share of heterosexual liaisons in my
time, with the caveat that the youngest girl I had ever had sex
with was no younger than me at the time. I was fourteen when I
lost my virginity and I had enjoyed sex with at least one girl of
similar age each of my remaining teen years until I hit twenty.
My late teens were particularly successful with multiple partners
during my freshman and sophomore college years. But never had I
contemplated man sex, or in this case, man-boy sex. Despite the
serious overture on his part, I was somewhat taken with the kid�s
situation and rather than bawl him out for his impertinence I
decided to soften my approach. I was also very curious as to what
this boy thought I might be interested in. To understand why he
felt a complete stranger; a man unknown to him, might
automatically harbor sexual desires sufficient to seek illegal
and improper contact. But then this was Amsterdam. This was one
of the most permissive cities in the world. Yet I could not see
how under aged sex of any combination, would be acceptable. I had
a son and daughter older than this boy and at no time could I
ever countenance any adult contemplating sex with either of them
while they were under the age of consent.

�Feel good?� I asked nervously. �What do you mean by feel good?�

He shuffled uncomfortably.

�You know� he answered. �I can make you feel well. You are on
your own� he suggested.

�Yes I am on my own, but I am not sure I understand what you are
saying �I could feel good by just buying you a meal. You could
feel good by eating a meal. Is that what you were saying?� I
offered.

He could have simply realized I was not what he thought I was and
agreed it was what he meant. But he was clearly taken off guard
by my reply.

�No sir. I can make men feel very good. Better than women can� he
replied with a somewhat confused look.

He must have thought I was dense or dumb, having missed his
pointed offer. I looked at him somewhat frustrated he did not
take my meaning and pull back from his offer. I sighed. No points
in belaboring the obvious disconnect. It would only make it worse
trying to nit pick the meaning he was attempting to get across to
me.

�Come on. I�ll buy you a meal� I said, resigned to the obvious
fact that his offer would need to be headed off later.

He grinned and quickly fell into step beside me. As we walked
towards a small bistro I knew was just around the corner from my
hotel, we made small talk. His name was Anton. I could not
understand his pronunciation of his last name so can�t record it.
He was from a country town and had become displaced when his
parents had separated. He drifted towards Amsterdam in search of
his older sister, and was still searching for her. I briefly told
him who I was and why I was here. We reached the bistro and went
in. The maitre de showed us to a small table and left us with the
menu. We eventually ordered what looked like sausage rounds in a
rich sauce with steamed vegetables. I followed his lead and I was
pleasantly surprised as it was delicious. I had found Dutch
cuisine to be less than inspiring. I asked him where he had
looked for his sister. He became a bit evasive and non-specific
and I sensed this part of his search troubled him. I was
beginning to suspect his sister may not exist. I decided not to
push that question and asked him where he had slept since
arriving in the city. Once again he became evasive. I was left
feeling there was a bad story he had to tell but he was unwilling
to share it. I was sure the boy had been forced to hustle for his
keep so far. That was clear from our first encounter. Perhaps the
need to go with men led to a number of unpleasant experiences
that he did not want to dwell on. There were plenty of men only
too happy to indulge in sex with young boys. This was true no
matter where you were.

We finished our meal and I ordered coffee. He ordered a small
desert. As he ate his desert, I started to formulate how to drop
him without appearing too brutal. After all, I had given him a
sense of optimism that at least for tonight he was going to be
warm and dry; even if he thought he was going to have to provide
a sexual service. That�s what he would be preparing himself for.
And if it was not something he necessarily accepted as status
quo, then to be dumped even with a full stomach, meant he would
still have to find someone else to provide him shelter. It was
now dark and the chances of meeting anyone near here, willing to
help him, were remote. The best I thought he could do would be to
head to the red light district and I was sure he knew that was a
tough road to go down. Unfortunately I could not think of a clean
way to ditch him. As I sipped my coffee he looked at me and asked
if I had any coins. I rummaged threw my pockets and deposited a
heap of coins on the table. I was curious as to what he wanted
them for. He read my thoughts.

�I wash my face and hands. For wet cloth� he explained motioning
towards the men�s room.

I grinned and nodded �go on.� He left the table and headed to the
men�s room. He returned in about ten minutes and by that time I
had paid the bill. Now I was left with the decision whether to
tell him he was on his own or perhaps put him up for the night
and maybe set him on some road to maybe find his sister tomorrow.
If she existed. By the time we got outside, it was definitely
much cooler and it swayed me to give him at least one night�s
sanctuary. So we set off the two blocks to the hotel. Fortunately
the hotel was small enough not to warrant full time desk staff
and we slipped into the elevator unnoticed. Likewise there were
no security cameras in the hotel so the sight of a middle aged
man and young boy coming into the hotel was not recorded for
future inquisition.

I let him into the room and he looked around. It was small with a
large double bed, free standing closet and small bureau with a
small TV on top opposite the bed. On the window side of the bed
there was a battered night stand with telephone on top. There was
also a small wooden table, an easy chair, and a small chaise
lounge under the window, which looked ornamental rather than
functional. At once corner just inside the door there was a small
bathroom with a sink and vanity unit, toilet, and shower box.
Once inside I motioned Anton to remove his anorak, and taking it
from him, hung it in the closet with my own light jacket. I
turned and looked at him. We stared at each other and I suspect
he was waiting for some overt move on my part.

�You can watch TV if you like� I said motioning to the TV remote
on the small table.

He stood and looked at me. There was an awkward silence with
neither of us moving. Finally I made to walk past him.

�I need a piss� I said casually and walked into the bathroom.

I eased the door not quite shut and fished my cock out. I started
a long pleasant stream into the bowl, watching the clear water
turn golden, as the urine colored it. I looked down at the jet of
piss and suddenly realized my cock was semi erect. A sort of
languid piss hard; a hard core but spongy outer as the blood had
not fully engorged the organ. My foreskin was half pulled back by
the half-inflation of the glans. It was a bit of a surprise as I
could not think why I was in this state. Then I thought of Anton
and his earlier proposition. I blushed at the thought that I had
become aroused at the suggestion of sex with a boy. I hadn�t
consciously thought of it other than how to avoid it. Was this a
subliminal longing to explore a subject I consciously knew to be
taboo? I enjoyed this state usually. It often led me to a nice
masturbation session and almost involuntarily I stroked the
foreskin a few times and to my dismay, I began to harden fully.
Damn. Should I jerk off to complete the erection or just let it
go down? I examined myself and groaned silently that my current
attention had got me almost fully hard. It was with some
difficulty that I held my cock down to ensure I did not piss over
the back of the bowl, and also because my cock was assuming
procreation mode. That is, the urethra was shutting off the piss
to prepare for a possible seminal ejaculation. I finished pissing
with a degree of discomfort. I shook my hardened cock and started
to undo my top button on my trousers. I needed more opening than
the flies could provide to get this back in my pants. Something
attracted my attention out of the corner of my eye and I turned
quickly to see Anton standing in the door way holding the door
open. He was gazing at my cock.

In any toilet situation the average man would quickly turn away
and ensure he was decent. Just like in a public toilet urinal and
ensuring privacy from neighboring users by remaining within the
porcelain barriers. But inexplicably I stood transfixed, holding
my erect cock, rooted to the spot. It wasn�t so much the surprise
of Anton�s appearance but the realization that this young boy was
actually eyeing my cock with some degree of interest. I saw the
way his eyes widened at the sight of it, and then his look
changed to one of intensity as he focused on it. A strange
silence hung over us and I could hear my heart pounding. Yet the
look on the boy�s face held me transfixed. Anton made the move.
Before I could react, he stepped forward and his hand wrapped
around my cock. It seemed to happen in slow motion. His step into
the room, the arm reaching and I could see each finger curl
around my organ. Yet it was only a split second on his part. My
moral instincts told me to turn away and compose myself. Chase
the boy out of the bathroom. Yet I stood captive in his small
hand around my cock, which looked big and red. This was the first
male to touch me there since I was a baby, when my father changed
my diapers. I did nothing and became mesmerized as the boy
started to slowly jack the foreskin up and down with a firm even
hand.




Anton had grabbed me with his thumb upper most like a dagger
grip, and as I succumbed to the seduction of his stroking I could
see the inevitable thin clear precum appear on the tip. He caused
me to gasp as he dragged his thumb pad across the top, making it
slick and increasing the smoothness of the foreskin sliding back
and forth. I was lost. Every instinct that had called me to push
him away was subdued by the sensation and the eroticism of the
moment. The wicked nature of this deed had captivated me; not
repulsed me as it should have. If I thought I could struggle for
control and stop this insanity, I was further defeated when he
gazed up at me briefly with his warm green eyes and slowly
lowered his head over my now bone hard cock, and drew me into his
mouth. I�d been sucked on numerous occasions. Almost every
instance of sexual intercourse I had experienced had started with
a blow job. Even days and nights that intercourse did not occur,
partners had often blown me for my personal satisfaction and
release. So being sucked off was not new experience. But the
realization that the brown-haired bobbing head, smooth stroking
of the hand, and the indecent swirl of tongue, belonged to a
pubescent boy was incredibly erotic. I felt an excitement I would
not have believed possible given rationale thought. But he was
exquisite. I was totally abandoning myself to his work, and
amidst the occasional gasp, short intake of breath, and slurping;
I stood and enjoyed the blow job.

Occasionally he would look up and each time he realized I was
enjoying the service. Like as always happens the sensation could
not last long enough and soon I felt the stirring in my groin
that signaled I would cum soon. My understanding of my body,
having subjected myself to years of adolescent masturbation and
adult sexual congress told me I was not going to hold back even
if I had wanted to. Recognizing the onslaught of my orgasm, I
grabbed Anton�s head in my hand and started to obscenely pump my
hips to match the welling throb of the ejaculation. The boy
tottered on his haunches and steadied himself against my pressure
with one hand to my hip, and I pulled him hard against me and
came in series of long spurts while gasping and groaning loudly.
I could hear his breath whistling in his nose as he gagged as I
pushed deeper to empty my balls inside his warm mouth. The whole
ejaculation only lasted fifteen seconds or so but the effect
consumed me and I felt my knees sag in relief. Anton sensed the
rush of semen had subsided and he pulled his mouth away from the
invading cock and I heard him spluttering and gasping for air.

Eventually he regained his breath and I regained my composure
enough to stand fully upright. My cock waved obscenely, sticking
out of my pants which I had opened fully to get it back inside
them before Anton�s intrusion. Anton rose to his feet and wiped
the back of his hand across his mouth. He maneuvered his jaw and
I realized he was still getting rid of the last residue of cum in
his mouth. He pushed his fingers in his mouth and produced one of
my pubic hairs. He moved his tongue around inside his mouth and
flexed his jaw. He must have been cramping up, having kept it
open long enough to bring me off. I remember my ex-wife, who was
not a big fan of fellatio, always complained about how her jaw
ached after oral sex. It was her way to try and persuade me to
abandon this foreplay. It didn�t work. Anton grinned at me.

�Good?� he asked with a wicked grin.

I was consumed by shame, elation, embarrassment, ecstasy, and
disgust of my actions, all in one brief rush of emotion.

�It was a very bad idea, but it was also great� I answered
truthfully.

He frowned at my meaning, not understanding. I put my deflating
cock away and fixed the front of my pants. I placed a hand gently
on his shoulder, and pausing to flush the John, I guided him out
into the room. I had him sit in the easy chair and I sat opposite
on the bed.

�Anton we need to discuss your situation� I said somewhat
somberly.

For the next forty-five minutes I questioned the boy on his
recent life. It pretty much came down to the fact that he fled
his mother�s abusive boyfriend, being as his father had split
some three or four years earlier. No, he didn�t have a sister,
and yes he had done what he did for me countless times since he
was about ten. He confessed that it was a family friend who
abused him first. A female friend who used to comfort his mother
just after his father left. She used to masturbate the boy some
times when asked to baby sit him. Somewhere in this period, she
allowed her lover access to the boy and he initiated the boy to
oral sex.  While all three were never together at the same time,
Anton relayed how on some nights he was being cared for, the two
passed him back and forth between rooms, finally leaving him
alone while they went into a bedroom together. Rather than be
scarred by this experience he stated he enjoyed the time with
both but confessed he became fascinated with the man�s penis. He
had seen the woman naked numerous times as she was always nude
when she had her session with him. But despite his delight at
being masturbated by her, he confessed his biggest thrill was
when her man friend came. Particularly outside of his mouth; so
he could see the power of the ejaculation. He longed to be able
to do that.  So he developed; admiring men and seeking out
comfort from them. This interlude was short and enjoyable and he
admits to openly looking for men who would admire him back and
offer that experience. It wasn�t hard and according to the boy, a
series of adult male experiences followed. I quizzed him as to
the nature of what took part and he told me that it was almost
always oral sex and mutual masturbation, until when he was almost
twelve, and then how a favorite teacher he had been orally
sexually involved with initiated him to anal sex. I asked basic
questions out of curiosity, rather than undertaking an
inquisition. �Yes it had hurt the first few times� and �he was
very patient�. �He used lubrication and did it from behind at
first� and �then he started to do it to me on my back like a
girl.�

�Did he make you feel like a girl?� I asked.

He shook his head.

�No. We were always boys. He used to take me in his mouth to. He
was the first to make me, you know, spunk� he answered matter of
factly.

Spunk. I think that was the English term for it. To spunk up. To
cum spunk.

�And did you enjoy what he did Anton?� I asked gently.

�Yes of course. Everything we did was very excellent� he answered
quickly. �I liked everything we did. I went back often. Mostly at
his house. Once at school and another time he came to my house.�

�Did he tell you it was wrong for him to do this� I asked
seriously.

�Of course I already knew. But I wouldn�t tell and he wouldn�t
tell so we were OK� he answered casually.

�And you know what I let you do was very wrong also� I continued.

He nodded somewhat sheepishly.

�But I liked you. You were kind. And I like to do that to, so it
seemed right to do it with you� he answered simply.

�And have you done that since coming to Amsterdam?� I asked.

He nodded once more.

�Many times. When I need food. Sometimes they give me money� he
confessed.

�And anal sex?� I asked tentatively.

He frowned trying to understand my question.


�Anal, what is?� he asked.

�Anal sex, anal intercourse, buggery, sodomy, men fucking men in
the butt� I said, elaborating my definition.

He finally expressed understanding.

�Focking. You mean focking?� he asked realizing what I meant.
�Not usually as often sucking as that can be done outside. But
sometimes I meet men with cars. We can do focking in cars. Once a
rich man with a BMW took me to a small cottage and we focked most
the day.�


�Do you prefer sucking only, or fucking to?� I asked. �I mean do
you do fucking because they make you do it?�

�No, I like it much all. I mean I like it all much. I like men�s
cocks hard. Getting them hard, and spunking. I like men close to
me like when they do it for me� he answered candidly.

I shook my head slowly in some sense of disbelief yet believing
his story.

�But you ran away from home.� I said. �Your mother must be
frantic with worry� I added.

He screwed his face up.

�She did not stop Theo from hurting me for nothing. Why would she
care I ran away?� he said with a degree of contempt.

�What did Theo do?� thinking he may well have buggered the boy or
forced him for sex.

�He kept hitting me and saying I cause all trouble with him and
mama. And she believe him because she want him to stay because he
has money regular,� he answered sullenly.

He didn�t need to paint a picture. I got the drift. So he was now
a street hustler in Amsterdam and he had just given me one of the
more memorable blow jobs I could recall, all for a sausage and
gravy dinner. I had run out of things to say for the time being.
I glanced at my watch. It was only 8:40pm. I looked around and
realized there was a small matter of sleeping arrangements to be
decided. I caught my thought and smiled to myself. �The boy had
sucked me dry fifteen minutes ago and I was worried where we
would both sleep.�

�Do you want to watch TV?� I asked.

He nodded and I threw him the remote. He switched on the TV and
surfed a few channels before deciding on some Dutch soap or drama
program. I kicked my shoes off and rolled back onto the bed
properly. I lay back with my forearm over my eyes and considered
my situation. I had just allowed a minor male child to suck me
off. Even in Holland where the age of consent was sixteen, he was
still a minor and I was a child molester. I could just read the
AP cable briefs. �American pedophile jailed in Amsterdam�. I felt
a surge of paranoia. I tried to calm myself down by reasoning the
situation with respect to Anton�s point of view. He liked sex
with men. He needed food so sex was a requirement to get that. He
would now have a nice dry room to sleep in. And there were
possibly men like me tomorrow so why would he squeal about me for
today. They authorities would return him to his mother and her
abusive lover. In fact if he shut up, I might be around another
day, and another day, which would be easier to get by.

He slid silently up onto the bed beside me. Not looking at me at
first with his eyes fixed on the TV. When he was assured I wasn�t
going to push him away he looked at me and smiled. To my surprise
he lay back and taking my arm nearest him, he put it behind his
neck and lay back so it looked like I was cuddling him. This kid
simply needed TLC. No wonder he was attracted to men who were
kind to him. Sex was his reward for their kindness. And of course
they would continue to be kind to get more sex. I had been in
this position with my own kids when they were no older than him.
Even after I split with their mother, both Mike and Karen looked
for reassurance from me in this same manner. I felt awkward at
first, but soon the weight of his head on my arm was
insignificant and I allowed him the luxury and comfort of curling
my arm across his shoulder in a protective manner. He turned
slightly and smiled. I couldn�t help it but I quickly dozed off,
despite the noise of the TV.

I came to I don�t know how long after, but I became aware it was
quiet and something was giving me a warm fuzzy somewhere in my
crotch. I opened my eyes and slowly became aware of where I was.
I looked down my body and my gut instinct was right. Anton was
crouched over me with my now erect cock waving out of my pants
and he was giving me another blow job. I initially struggled to
rise but the recollection of all the reasoning that went earlier,
flooded back and I returned to my belief I was �probably safe
from jail� and resigned myself that he would bring me off again.
I lay back and enjoyed his mouth and tongue working in unison
with his hand. He had reached inside my shorts and I felt his
hand fondle my balls. I missed the preamble to the initial
erection and his opening efforts and realized to my dismay I was
starting to cum. I reached out and placed my hands on his head
and jerked my hips four, five, six times as I came into his warm
mouth. This time he was able to restrain my force of ejaculation
because I was prostrate on my back and he was effectively
weighing me down just enough to stop me thrusting too deep. He
swirled the head of my cock each thrust, and as if to mock me,
when I finished when I finished cumming he turned to me and let
his tongue curl in his mouth between his lips so I could see the
large gob of cum on it. I chuckled and shook my head and he
grinned and deliberately run his tongue inside his mouth and
overemphasized his swallowing of the cum with a giggle of glee.
It was 10:25pm.  I suggested it was time for bed and warily
climbed off and stumbled to the bathroom on legs of jelly. I took
a long piss and looked at myself in the mirror. �Pervert� I said
to myself. �Dirty faggot pervert� I spat at my reflection. I
turned the light off so as not to embarrass myself looking at
this immoral person, and finishing my piss and flushing it away,
I went back into the room.

Anton was already under the blankets. I grinned and climbed in
beside the young Dutch boy. I had only just settled in when he
rolled against me and made to take my arm around him again. I
obliged and he snuggled against me. I leaned over to the night
stand and switched the light out. Getting into bed was not the
end of the affair. Well why would it be? Just because I was
wasted from a second strong orgasm? My eyes were barely used to
the dark and I was just assimilating the sounds of the night when
I felt Anton move closer towards me. He was naked whereas I had
my shorts on. Soon I felt the obvious firm push of a young erect
cock against my thigh. I recognized this hint. I used it on my
sexual partners most of my life. Sometimes it worked, other times
they ignored me and feigned sleep; or were already in a deep
sleep. And occasionally I had some positive response and good
sex. I thought about what the situation might call for. He had
blown me, rather expertly, twice without reward. Of course he did
have a nice meal and a soda and he was now in a warm bed. Did I
owe him anything? Probably not but then this little boy had led
me down a dark path I never dreamt I could go, and I was feeling
better about it than I should have been. Tentatively I moved my
free hand across my body and trailed it towards the hard little
sausage that he was now slowly humping me with. What followed was
a display of lust on my part that I never thought I would ever
submit to.

After wrapping my hand around his wiener, I treated the young boy
to my first ever blow job on a male, and by all accounts, he
appreciated every juicy suck and twirl I gave him. I drew on all
of the blow jobs I had received, and did my utmost to
reciprocate. The bit were my sense of fair play in treating him
as he had treated me, crossed over to a sense of lust that still
leaves me a little worried at what depths of subliminal carnal
recesses I can descend to.  Having him lying with his knees up I
crouched between his legs I plunged as far down on his cock as I
could get. He could literally deep throat me without to much
discomfort to me. But given the times I had gone down on my
female partners, the presence of his short hard cock was little
deviation and it was the manner I went after his anus which
causes me to blush. Automatically I was feeling for the vaginal
opening. The gash, the cunt lips, the pussy, the hole. All of
those names for the female love canal. And with one of my lovers,
before I was married, I had actually indulged in anal penetration
with my fingers as I ate her out. Two fingers in her cunt, two
squeezed into her anus and she went ape as I had tormented her
clitoris with my tongue and thumb pad of the hand jammed in her
orifices. I was so carried away now that I had my index finger up
to the second knuckle in Anton�s tight little butt when reality
bit that there was only one hole, and this small piece of tube in
my throat.

I returned to the present and realized he was both tight and very
dry yet I had pushed in so deep without thinking of how it might
have hurt. I was vaguely aware he was grunting and groaning and
it took a few seconds to decide it was a mixture of pleasure and
discomfort. He occasionally squirmed to get away from the finger
but pushed back to keep his cock embedded in my throat. While
trying to take in what I could do next he surprised me by sobbing
and gasping and I felt the warm salty rush of his pubescent
ejaculation. It was very liquid and almost salty and not in much
abundance. But his orgasm was a full blown series of humping into
my face, his sparse pubes brushing my lips. He  had his hands
clamped on my head and was pulling my face hard against his
groin. He finally stopped humping my face and I eventually
released his still hard cock from my mouth. His watery
ejaculation was gone but there was a slight taste and the faint
odor of a man�s sickly sweet cock smell. There was also the small
matter of the index finger of my right hand still trapped in his
dry hole. How to get it out without hurting him further, now he
no longer had the pleasure of his cock being sucked to offset the
pain of the invading digit. Of course Anton had the answer. I
tried to gently extricate my finger but he was tight and dry and
I could tell it was going to be painful. To back up my
realization he began to hiss and groan in discomfort as he felt
me trying to get the finger out.

�Wait� he gasped.

He spread his legs wider and gingerly lifted his buttocks off the
bed, suspending his body between his shoulders and his feet. He
reached his hands around each hip, and I watched him pull his
buttocks apart. I sensed he was relaxing his sphincter and I
withdrew my finger as gently as I could.

�Ow� he exclaimed as my finger finally pulled clear.

His butt hit the bed again and he sighed in relief.

�We needs grease� he gasped.

�It�s OK, I�ve removed it� I answered.

�But we needs grease for focking� he explained.

I stared at him puzzled at his response.

�What are you saying Anton?� I asked.

�We needs grease. In my coat pocket. For help focking� he
continued.

I knelt and just stared at the boy.

�Get grease from my coats pocket sir,� he said.

�Anton, are you sure. You want me to, to, fuck you� I asked
somewhat nervously.

�We wants it sir. We both be good for it. You to. Get the grease
and make me slippery. You to� he insisted.

The boy wanted to let me bugger him. For both of our sake, so it
seemed. It wasn�t lust rather it was more curiosity at learning
what this boy expected, that saw me get off the bed and go to the
closet where I had hung our coats. I rummaged in one the front
pockets and to my surprise he had three condoms. Nothing else in
there so I rummaged in the other front pocket and sure enough, I
found a half full bottle of clear liquid. I could not read the
writing on the label as it was in Dutch.  I tilted the bottle and
I could tell by how slowly the liquid moved that it was rather
thick, like shampoo or liquid soap is in a bottle. I padded back
to the bed and climbed back up holding the bottle.

�Good sir. Make me slippery for you� he said rolling quickly onto
his hands and knees.

I held back. This was another leap forward down the road of
perversion I hadn�t been before. I looked at his young butt and
the brown smudge that was his anus. Could I really go back in
there with my fingers? I had inserted my finger earlier because I
was in a state of sexual dominance. But he was inviting me to
enter him with my cock. I had often wondered what that would be
like and had even attempted to coerce one of my old girlfriends
to go down that road. But that was in the context of sexual
exploration from a legitimate relationship. This was rank child
abuse. He sensed my hesitancy and turned his head.

�Go on sir. Do it to me. Make me slick and do it for me� he said
encouraging me to begin.

I looked at him, somewhat lost on how to back out, yet timid
about going forward. As if to perhaps buy some time, I dropped
the condoms and flipped the lid on the bottle. I placed a finger
over the nipple opening and squeezed a little on my finger tip. I
rubbed my finger and thumb together and discovered the liquid was
very slippery and looking back at his butt I realized he was
still turned, watching me.

�It�s good, go on� he urged.

 I squeezed a decent amount onto my upturned index finger, being
careful not to let any drip onto the bed. I gingerly reached
forward and smeared the first finger load upwards against his
anus. It smeared around the pucker and I lightly pressed against
the opening. At first there was a light resistance but as the
goop was now running around my finger and the digit slipped in. I
moved it back a little and rotated it slightly. It was soon
leaving the lubricant inside his anus. I pushed further and
realized the lubricant was doing a good job. I removed my finger
and applied some more lubricant and I worked on him slowly and
deliberately; amazed at how slippery he became. One finger full
became two, and eventually I got my three centre fingers pushed
in quite deeply. His ass hole was saturated with the lube which
was now smeared around his pucker and inner buttocks. I was
amazed at how hot my fingers felt when inserted as deep as my
hand would allow. All this time he was sighing regularly and his
breathing was deep and controlled. I knew he was going through
some sort of a routine. Some sort of preparation for the next
step.

The next step! Could I do this? I realized I was semi hard inside
my shorts. Could I take my cock out and lubricate it and push it
into his young body? I knew it was morally wrong, legally wrong
and maybe downright health threatening. He had had it before. And
many times, if he was to be believed. Was he free from STD or
even HIV infection? I knew enough about AIDS to know he was at
risk because he would take the semen the men would ejaculate into
him. In this case he was the receiver. I was the donor. I knew I
was clean. But could any infection be passed back to me? I
remembered the condoms and looked down for them. I picked one up
and looked at it. If I take this out, I am going to go through
with it. I studied it for a few moments. I looked at my front
realizing my cock was hardening and tenting my shorts. I slipped
off the bed and removed my shorts. He turned as soon as he felt
my movement off the bed. I stood and looked at him He was
grinning and nodded for me to go on with it so I tore the packet
with my teeth and removed the rolled rubber. I was now fully
erect. I had used condoms numerous times but not in recent
memory. I placed the ring over the head of my cock and slowly
unrolled the latex. I noted it was decidedly pink. It rolled on
easily and soon I stood looking down at my shiny latex covered
cock with the goofy tip wobbling at the end.

I reached back to the bed and picked up the lubricant. I squirted
a liberal amount into the palm of my hand and then slowly rolled
my hand around the cock and began to lubricate the latex sheath.
It took no time at all to leave a thin gooey sheen of lube on the
condom. I was ready. He had watched me through the whole
operation and he caught the concerned expression on my face.

�Its OK sir� he said softly. �We good.�

I heaved a sigh in preparation and climbed up onto the bed,
kneeling behind him. I run my fingers up his butt crack and
reassured myself he was good a slippery. I slipped one, then two
fingers into his anus. He hissed a sigh �yesss� as consent that
he was ready. I shuffled forward on my knees and taking my cock
in one hand and resting the other on a butt cheek I rubbed the
head against the general area of his pucker. His hands
immediately appeared and I watched him pull his cheeks apart,
causing the anus to gape a little. I reoriented the cock head and
slowly eased forwards. It surprised me how readily the tip went
in, pushing the hole open. The lubrication had done its work and
I was amazed as I saw, first the bulb of the head slide in, and
then inch by inch my cock was swallowed up. It was absolutely
exquisite.  I had pushed far enough now that my cock started to
bend slightly as the pressure along the inserted length was now
resisting despite the lube. This often happened in vaginal
intercourse if I went too fast for penetration. So I drew back an
inch or so and pushed back. I slid deeper than before. I did this
three, four times, and too my surprise I realized I was buried up
to my balls in this young pubescent boy�s ass. Until now my
entire focus was on my cock being swallowed and the sensations it
was causing me. Now I was in and I was getting used to being deep
in his young ass I became aware that he was gasping and groaning.
I strained to see if it was discomfort or pleasure he was
articulating at the shaft renting him open. I couldn�t tell. He
returned his hands to the bed beside his shoulders as he
supported his upper body.

�Anton, are you OK?� I asked cautiously.

�Yes sir. It is so nice. Be pleased to fock me� he answered.

I wasn�t entirely convinced. It sounded like he was speaking
through clenched teeth.

�Are you sure?� I asked.

�Yes please. I am good� he reassured me.

I found the actual mechanics of fucking someone up the ass, is no
different to fucking a girl vaginally. The pushing in and out and
the occasional adjustment of the hips; with the hand pressure on
the buttocks and the overall humping thing. What made this so
glorious was the pressure. The tightness of his anal canal. The
heat of the body was far hotter than any woman I had had sex
with. I was incredibly aroused due to the overall forbidden
nature of this act. But I was also being stimulated in a familiar
way that the cock took over and drove the brain. I fucked
steadily and carefully at first, but as I became accustomed to
the pleasurable sensation of the tight hot boy, to my dismay I
realized I was too close to cumming to attempt to draw it out to
the maximum. I concentrated on getting as much of myself into him
and began pushing firmly with shorter backstrokes. A sort of
short rutting action as I felt the welling up of my cum in my
balls and urethra. I felt my cum starting to work from my groin
and before I could slow and control the ejaculation, to draw out
the sensation, I started cumming hard into the condom buried deep
in his ass. I held his hips and rutted each spurt and gasped and
groaned as I emptied myself. I was vaguely aware he was also
groaning and gasping but my ears were pounding at the effort I
had expended in cumming hard and his cries were just a background
noise. I was so consumed by my own orgasm I had no idea whether
or not he was enjoying the act or was perhaps complaining at his
ass being stretched and prodded so deeply.

I half collapsed forward over him and ran my hands under him,
feeling his chest and drawing the palms back against his belly. I
had briefly forgotten he was a male; consumed by the familiar act
of fucking myself to orgasm, until I felt his erect cock pointing
down. My hand strayed over it at first and I reacquainted myself
with his gender. He was hard. I worked the small taught boner and
he groaned in appreciation that I had not forgotten his pleasure.
My hands were still slick from the lube I had applied to his ass
and my cock, so my hands slipped over him easily. He started to
move his hips down to meet my pulling back on his thin shaft. The
sensation it was causing me was delicious as I felt his sphincter
contracting, and pushing at me as he worked his hips to the
stroke of my hands. He didn�t last long and soon he was gasping
and groaning. I felt his asshole tense as he came, and if I were
able to, I would have plowed him hard again. But even though I
was still very much erect, my own understanding of my body knew I
would not cum so soon after the effort I had just expended. He
slowly sunk to the bed, his knees skidding back so he was soon
lying flat on his stomach. This caused his buttocks to push back
and up and as I shifted my knees to straddle his legs, my cock
was expelled from his tight hole. I sat back on my haunches and
looked down at my cock enclosed in the condom and it was now
starting to sag away. Not yet flaccid but slowly deflating. I
eased over his legs and headed to the bathroom. I pulled the
condom off my now flaccid penis and held it up for inspection.
There were light brown stains of mucus or similar. The results of
his anus fluids mixed with the small particles of feces. The end
of the condom sagged with the contents of my ejaculation. I
admired how much I had left. I couldn�t help myself from bringing
the object to my nose and inhaling the smell of funk left by his
rectum. I caught myself, and almost in panic that this thing was
somehow dirty and unholy, I threw the condom into the toilet bowl
and quickly flushed it away.

When I padded back to the bed, I could tell the boy was asleep.
He was literally fucked. I bent over him and somehow coaxed his
sleepy body under the blankets. I climbed in and lay beside him,
not touching him. He was on his stomach with his head turned away
from me. I lay on my back for some time thinking about what had
happened. My emotions were still confused, between the sin of
what had taken place, with the tremendous pleasure I had
experienced. Eventually the previous hour�s exertions caught up
with me, and giving my cock and balls a congratulatory grasp and
grope, I allowed sleep to overcome me.

My day started somewhere before daybreak. I was roused to
consciousness by the familiar warm wet sensation of a mouth on my
cock. I had experienced this beautiful awakening many times in my
life and this occasion was no different. I lay on my back feeling
the hand stroking while the mouth and tongue caused me thrills
and delight. I lay letting my awareness slowly focus on the
surroundings and my fuddled brain piecing together where I was
and who was doing this delicious thing to me. Slowly the truth of
the situation hit me and with a self satisfied smile, I slowly
extended a hand and placed it on the back of the head that
belonged to the lips that were sucking my cock, and the hand that
was stroking it with such expertise. �Anton� I breathed to
myself.

The boy felt my hand stroke his hair and he paused to turn
slightly to look at me. Thinking better of it as it was still
dark, he returned to blowing my cock in earnest. This went on for
some time and soon I felt the sickening ache that forewarned me
he was getting me too close to suppress the inevitable.

�Gently little one� I gasped and pulled my hips to one side to
disengage his mouth.

He still held my cock and this time he did turn and I sensed he
was looking at me through the gloom of the early morning.

�You ver� close?� he whispered as a rhetorical question.

�Yes I am close, I whispered back. �But I want to cum inside you
again� I said almost breathlessly. �Not waste my hardness.�

�Is good.� He answered. �I like very much to.�

I twisted towards him and roughly guided him back around so his
head came back to the pillow. As he settled himself on his back I
gave him little time to prepare, I was so aroused. I eased
between his thin legs and taking each one behind the knee I
lifted first one, then the other up onto my shoulder as I knelt
close to his buttocks. My thighs brushing the firm globes of his
young bubble butt. In my haste to penetrate I had completely
forgotten the need for a condom and I was soon feeling between
his crack and slipping a finger into his ass. He was still very
slick and greasy from our fuck hours earlier. I was able to get
three fingers worked into him after a modest amount of sliding
and kneading his sphincter. Driven by my heightened libido, I
took my naked cock and slid it several times up and down his
crack, over his pucker. I slid the fingers out as I slowly fed my
cock passed them and we both gasped as the mushroom head slid
nicely through the sphincter. I leaned forward across his torso
and gave a series of fucking movements with my hips and I felt my
cock slowly penetrating him; deeper with each thrust. He was
gasping and whispering something in Dutch as I adjusted my
position to give myself the pleasure of fucking his tight ass
once more. The old intuition of fucking took over and soon I was
fucking him steadily. Just like I had fucked girls and women all
of my active sex life. Once again his actual gender slipped from
my consciousness and I simply fucked the warm tight hole
surrounding my cock.

This time I was far more loose and out of control than the
previous fuck. I leaned back again and held each leg wide and
rutted him deep. He was gasping and groaning and I was sure it
was in pleasure at what I was doing to his tight hole and
prostate within. I held him this way for some minutes, slowing to
control the onset of orgasm and then quickening and deepening
when the urge to cum rolled back from the verge. After plowing
the boy for a good ten minutes or more, I brought myself to the
brink once too manytimes and realizing I could not pull back, I
dropped his legs over my shoulders again and leant forward taking
him by the shoulders and fucked him as deep and as fast as I
could muster, as I came and came deep into his bowels. I slammed
deep and he groaned and gasped as I bottomed out in him and
occasionally he sobbed as I twisted my hips as I wrung the last
drops of cum from my body. The renting of the sphincter causing
him small cries of discomfort. I had experienced this before in
my late teens when I fucked one of my girlfriends who was tight
and somewhat frigid. I simply had plundered her as I had now
plundered Anton�s tight asshole. With one last effort I rutted
balls deep and collapsed on his small body. His legs slid off my
shoulders and upper arms as I descended full length on him;
covering him completely with my body. There was no consideration
of sexual equality here now. I was finished so that was it. I
simply drew my arms up around his shoulder and passed out into a
deep swoon.

I woke and found he was lying on his side with his back to me. I
was lying facing him but not actually touching. I slowly lifted
my arm and looked at my watch. It was 8:45am and I could tell it
was sunny outside by the shafts of light coming from between the
heavy drapes at the window. I lay looking at this boys shoulders
and the hair at the nape of his neck. I believed he was asleep
still. I lifted the blankets carefully and peered down at his
back and buttocks. His legs bent at the knee with his heels
visible beyond his butt. I had barebacked him the second time I
fucked into him. I wondered what his hole must be like. A greasy
mixture of semen with the lube; and his own internal juices.
There would be a stain somewhere on the bottom sheet being as I
had taken him in the missionary position. Like a girl. It
occurred to me that he had not made any overt attempt to show he
might have wanted to fuck me. Instead he seemed to take his role
as the �bottom� as his rightful place in our sex. He had
mentioned he had a sexual relationship with a teacher. I had
suspected when he told me that, that it was more than just a rite
of passage, and that this man had meant a lot to him. I wondered
if this was where his role in gay sex had been defined. Certainly
he enjoyed being sucked and it occurred to me he saw this as all
he could receive beyond being a �bottom�.

I looked at my cock lying against my leg. I was semi hard, mainly
due to the need to piss. I deftly flicked my cock several times
and became hard quickly. I stroked myself fully erect and eased
the blanket down further. I run my fingertips along the inside of
his lower thigh up to the junction of his legs beneath his butt.
I did this for several minutes, barely breathing and straining to
hear if he was still sleeping. Soon he moved his upper leg
forward and this had the effect of parting his legs even though
he lay on his side. The movement appeared involuntary as if he
were still asleep, but I wasn�t sure if he was just feigning
sleep to see what initiative I would take with him. I had better
access to his crack and trailed my fingers up until they touched
his perineum and then slid them between his butt cheeks and
brushed his anus. I did this several times and once again he
appeared to part his legs further allowing me to easily stroke
his anus. I didn�t dally and as soon as he gave me better access,
I slide a finger into him. He was greasy and I entered him
easily. I slowly worked my middle finger in and out and soon my
index finger, then my ring finger had speared into the first
knuckle. I realized that while he was certainly slick, I would
need more lube to enter him as I was now planning to do. I
reached back with my free hand and scrabbling around the
nightstand, I located the lube. I flipped the lid, and peering
down, I aimed the tip at my fingers and squeezed a generous
amount onto them. Then I let the fluid trickle towards the ends
and slowly pushed the goop into him. He moved his hips as the
cool of the liquid touched is anus and I heard a small gasp. I
knew he was awake now. I worked the lube deeper and my fingers
came up to the second knuckle. He was wet and hot and turned more
onto his stomach. I worked some lube into my free hand and
smeared my cock. I closed the bottle and flicked it behind me.
Briefly I considered the condoms but I was now primed to enter
him and I dropped the idea of interrupting the assault by putting
one on. I took my fingers out of his ass and pulled him back,
more onto his side. I hunched in behind him and guided my cock up
towards the greased hole. Guiding myself by feel alone, I felt
the soft wet of the pucker and inching forward and up, I slowly
entered him. Several in-out thrusts and I was deep in his tight
hot hole for a third time in less than twelve hours. We were in
the spoon position lovers take when in post coital afterglow
except I was about to start fucking him.

I slow fucked him, holding him back towards me and he slowly
slipped into my rhythm by moving his butt back against me as I
made my inwards push. I fucked slowly and enjoyed the building of
my passion. I had slipped an arm under him and by wrapping my
other arm over his side and I pulled him back against me and
settled into a slow languid rutting motion. He was now breathing
heavily and gasping quietly as I gave the occasional harder,
deeper push. He was tight and I became aware for the first time
of a slight slurping noise as my cock slid in and out of his ass.
I worked steadily and almost as an afterthought, I dropped my
upper hand to his groin. He was rock hard. I started to stroke
him slowly to rhythm of my fucking and it didn�t take long before
he gasped and sobbed and I knew he was cumming in my hand. I
pulled him harder against me and started to hit him harder with
my hips. Pushing into him as deep as I could. My own orgasm came
soon after his and I came in a slow controlled ejaculation into
his tight little ass. It was one of those quiet dawn-breaker
fucks I had enjoyed from time to time over my sexual life. I
noted yet again that I had compared the fuck just concluding with
fucking a woman. This boy was much like a girl or a woman to me.
I did not see him as a male. Despite the small pubescent boy
penis I has sucked and jacked to ejaculation his maleness seemed
almost an aberration to the act of copulation. He was too
immature to consider a man. Therefore he remained a girl in my
mind. I could make him to be androgynous at best.

I pushed the last few straining millimeters into him as I
squeezed the last drop of cum from my cock, and rolled away from
him onto my back. He lay on his side for at least ten minutes
while I lay on my back with my eyes closed. He moved first and
rolled onto his stomach and raised himself up onto his elbows and
looked at me. I sensed his stare and opened my eyes and looked at
him. He had this soft feminine look on his face. I was somewhat
surprised as it could almost be a loving look.

�Ist good� he said quietly. �You like Anton?� he asked, almost as
an afterthought.

�I like Anton� I grinned.

Thirty years of macho leanings had gone out the window with the
events of the last twelve hours. And I knew I wanted more of this
boy. I wanted to bury myself deep in his body and delight in the
clear enjoyment he felt from being taken this way. To take his
small wiener into my throat and wring the gasps and sobs from his
young lips as he flooded me with his warm ejaculations. I had a
desire to possess him completely again and again.

We arose about 9:30 and I suggested he take first shower while I
shaved. As stood behind the curtain I sensed he was half
expecting me to join him. But I was really drained. I had cum
four times since early last evening and I had to succumb to my
age. It was time to recharge my batteries. He stepped from the
shower and I replaced him under the hot stream. I washed my cock
carefully. Conscious I had barebacked him twice of three times
that I had I mounted him. I was still a little concerned about
STD or even HIV but reminded myself the greater risk was with the
receiver. Still I told myself that soap and hot water was the
answer. My cock was somewhat swollen from the recent over use and
the hot water streaming into my groin.

He dressed in the same clothes he had worn when I met him. I
realized he had no bag with him when I met him so of course he
would have no change of clothes.

�Where is your stuff?� I asked as I toweled my hair dry.

�I have no stuff� he answered sadly. �I lost my things in the
street. Some boys tricked me. They took my rucksack which had
clothes inside�

�You have no clothes to change to?� I asked incredulously.

�No money to buy clothes. Only what I have on� he answered.

�Well then we need to change that Anton. We can�t have you in the
same clothes day after day� I said brightly.

We went out at about 10:15am and I steered him back to the small
bistro we had eaten at, the night before. We ordered breakfast
and sat and munched croissants and cheese, and thin sliced salmon
and cottage cheese. He had orange juice and I had coffee. The
first order of the day after breakfast was to find a market he
mentioned, where we could buy him replacement clothes for those
he had had stolen. He steered me towards the location and soon I
found a street that was closed off for hawkers and stalls, spaced
down the middle. There was already a busy crowd browsing the
wares for sale. We went from stall to stall accumulating a number
of garments. Tee shirts, underpants, denim jeans, sweat shirt and
several pairs of sox. At one stall I bought a very nice Nike
backpack. It was so cheap it was obviously a fake yet still
smart, with a series of external pockets and zips. I bought him a
small wallet but kept this purchase from him. I would put some
money inside and leave it for him when I eventually moved on to
Paris. That was tomorrow. I had one day and one more night with
this young street kid. The entire inventory of clothing cost me
125 Euro which I felt was a snip. The clothing wasn�t fashionable
labels but basic wear for the boy to at least launder and rotate
his wardrobe and remain clean. He was obviously in a high risk
messy business. I had no doubt I would not be the last man to
feel his warm depths before this week ended. It was a sad fact of
his life. I had considered how I might persuade him to return to
his mother; as the lesser of two evils to working as a street
hustler. He was too pretty to survive unscathed. Sooner or later
some brute would deal to him in a way he might never cope with. I
doubted he was savvy enough to protect himself from a terrible
fate at the hands of some perverted pedophile or rough gay �top�.
I knew little of the gay under culture, except to know there were
dark prospects waiting; just as there were in the heterosexual
sex industry.

We wandered around for an hour or so and stopped to eat lunch. It
was while we were sitting here that I noticed we were being
watched by a young woman, standing outside of the street side
cafe�s roped off seating. At first I didn�t think she was looking
at us but after staring back in her direction, I decided she was
in fact looking directly at me. I mentioned her presence to Anton
and he turned and I noted his face lit up when he saw her. Before
he confirmed he knew her with me, he jumped to his feet and went
over to where she was standing and I watched them speak
animatedly. She was looking at me as he was obviously talking
about me and I felt some uneasiness at what he might be saying.
After obviously discussing me for about five minutes, I noted
Anton guiding her back towards where I was sitting. As they
approached; him lightly pushing her before him, I stood and
looked at the her. I realised she was not a young woman but an
early teenaged girl; maybe thirteen or fourteen. Clearly though
puberty judging by the nice set f breast she had jutting against
a tight light grey top with a pronounced vee neck which showed
plenty of cleavage. I could see the straps of her black bra under
the shoulders of the top and just make out the top of the bra
cups which showed a small amount of lace. She wore tight low
rider jeans with a wide black belt that had a series of two
eyelets in vertical pattern at intervals along its length around
her waist. The end of the belt was overlong and hung down. It
struck me there was nothing unique in this garb as it seemed all
young teen girls wore this fashion these days. The jeans were
tight enough to show the allure of her pubis and crotch. She wore
a pair of light leather clogs which appeared to have tooled
patterns in the tops. Her ankles were bare. She had short blond
hair that was made to look a little scruffy and a pert nose and
baby blue eyes. She was very attractive and had a slim waist in
proportion to her slightly large breast for her frame, and nice
hips which were also in proportion to her waistline. As she
approached, I could see her navel above the belt and below the
top. Jail bait if I ever saw it.

Anton introduced her as his friend Katja and asked if she could
join us. Katja spoke good English and smiled and giggled at my
words of greeting and welcome. She seemed very pleased to be
asked to join us and sat down and sat demurely while Anton was
about to explain how they knew each other but I interrupted and
asked if she had eaten. She said she hadn�t so without asking
whether or not she wanted to eat, I summoned a waitress and asked
for a menu. Katja immediately protested it was not necessary but
she was being polite and not at all convincing I did not need to
buy her lunch. Anton was very pleased I had offered hr food. We
let her peruse the menu in peace and she ordered a large beef
sandwich with and a Pepsi. Once the waitress left, she once again
sat demurely, her hands at her sides as Anton explained their
relationship.

Katja sat impassively as Anton told me that she was much like
himself. She had left home in the city of Antwerp and hitched to
Amsterdam. I was surprised she traded one major city for another
and she commented that there was more happening in Amsterdam. She
took up the story when Anton alluded to the fact that she had had
problems at home and had run away. Her situation was similar to
Anton�s in that she suffered at the hands of her divorced
mother�s boyfriend. Unlike Anton�s father Katja�s father was
still in Antwerp but for some unspecified reason he was of little
help. He too had a new relationship and Katja did not get on with
his father�s partner either. I obliquely inquired as to the
nature of the problem with her mother�s boyfriend using Anton�s
example of physical abuse. Without coming out and saying it
directly she implied the abuse she had suffered was sexual as
well as physical. I concluded she had been molested; even raped,
judging by the serious glances that passed between she and Anton.
I felt she was not comfortable sharing this and was trying to
warn Anton she did not appreciate his candor about her situation.
But given a meal was on its way and she was most likely hungry,
she remained controlled about the topic of conversation.

Her sandwich and Pepsi arrived and she duly tucked in and I was
right about her hunger. As she briskly ate her food, I asked her
where she lived and she was inconclusive as to where she stayed,
except to say there was more than one usual location she spent
the nights. It seems she was on the streets most days and I was
certain she was no better than Anton in that she basically hooked
and hustled to eat and survive. I did note her clothes were clean
and she had a little make up on as well. I concluded she was most
likely better placed for a place to stay than Anton; but what did
she have to do to stay there? I decided she was an occasional
teenage hooker; probably sometimes in one of the many legal
brothels in Amsterdam�s red light district. I surmised she
probably made sufficient money to cry off it, only to be driven
back when she was broke and had nowhere to stay. She never said
as much but I had a strong suspicion I was on the right track.

�So Katja, how old are you,� I asked.

�Eighteen,� she answered without batting an eyelid.

It was an obvious lie. You have to be eighteen to work in
brothels. She wasn�t even sixteen I thought.

�And what do you plan to do with yourself?� I continued.

�I am waiting for a permanent job in a hairdressing salon. I
sometimes work there sweeping up hair and washing customer�s
hair,� she said brightly.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe that�s where she got the money to buy
makeup and her clothes. Maybe a kind hairdresser gave her a bed
some times.

�Have you any plans to move back to Antwerp,� I said, waiting to
read her body language.

She stiffened and shook her head without answering. That topic
was clearly not one to pursue. Eventually she finished her lunch
and I noted she mopped up the crumbs with a finger and licked her
fingers clean. She had been hungry. It was now about two thirty
and I suggested to Anton we should go back to my hotel and sort
his clothes out. He gave me a smile and a knowing look. Katja
dropped her head and gazed at the table as I spoke to Anton. I
sensed she felt left out. As soon as he agreed with my
suggestion, she sat up and said she had best be going. I was sure
she wanted to come with us. I bet Anton told her how I was
providing meals and a hotel room. I was somehow sure he had not
told her specifically about our sex together but on the other
hand, I thought she probably knew he went with men. Why else
would he be sitting with a middle aged American tourist who had
just bought him clothing?

�Come with us Katja,� I said brightly. �You can give us your
opinion on Anton�s new clothes.�

I could tell she wanted to come, but just as she did when I
offered her lunch, she declined and made an unconvincing story
that she had to be somewhere. Anton urged her to join us and
after she declined twice, she made out she was reluctantly
agreeing to join us. We started walking back towards the main
square and from there go in the general direction of my hotel.
The central city was busy now, with a large number of people
moving to and fro and we threaded our way through the moving mass
of people going about their business. At one point I became
detached from Anton. I was following the cute behind of Katja who
was striding surprisingly purposefully ahead of me. After a few
minutes I realised Anton was not I close contact so I called to
Katja to slow down and that we needed to wait for Anton. She
stopped and turned to look at me. It was then I noticed her face
go serious as she looked obviously beyond me. I turned and I saw
what she was concerned at. Some distance behind us, two Amsterdam
policemen were standing over him; one holding him by the arm as
the other seemed to be talking animatedly to him.

�Come quickly,� Katja said in a hushed urgent tone. �We best not
stay here.�

�What, why?� stammered at her.

�It is too late for Anton. They have him. Best separate
ourselves,� she said and grabbed my arm and urged me to follow.

I followed her and soon we had turned several corners and she
slowed and waited for me to catch up.

�Anton has been taken again,� she explained quickly, looking
around as if the street was listening.

�Taken where?� I asked somewhat disturbed by this turn of events.

�He will be taken to the police station and interrogated. But he
will not talk. He will be returned to his mother,� she stated
matter of factly.

I felt a chill go over me. Interrogated! Would he tell of the
middle aged American pervert who used his young body for lustful
gratification? Katja read my mind.

�Don�t you worry. I said he would not talk. They will only ask
him about pimps and dealers. They know he goes with men for money
but men like you are not who the police really want. They want
the organizers and the users of us,� she said with a tone of
contempt when obviously referring to the pimps.

�Us?� I parroted.

She looked at me quickly and a look of embarrassment came over
her face that she had included her and Anton in the same category
of street hustler.

�I am not a prostitute,� she said emphatically.

I noted she did not look at me when she said this but it seemed
more of an affirmation to herself despite a look of loss and
uncertainty that had now clouded her face; and her body language
looked almost like someone in defeat.

�Let us get further away. They might be on a sweep,� she said
quickly, composing herself again. �We can go to your hotel.�

I nodded and together we set off for my hotel.

It was quite a walk and by the time we entered the backstreet
where the little hotel was, she was carrying herself with
confidence and control; just as she had displayed when Anton
first introduced. When we got to the hotel room, she looked
around, as if expecting to find someone secreted away or hiding
in the closet. Once she was satisfied she had the lay of the
room, she stood before me looking at me with an air of
expectation of what was to happen next. I regarded the situation;
here I was alone in my room with a thirteen or fourteen year old
street hustler. She was Jailbait personified, dressed in her
tight fitting top and jeans. Her breasts were obvious, yet the
flesh hidden from view. And the vee between her legs hinted of
the delights within her denims. I could have stood and wondered
about who would move first; or tried to ease into some sort of
romantic contact by natural social contact. But I knew and she
knew I knew that she was available. Prostitute or not, there was
a strong suggestion of availability in her stance and her
expression. I disregarded the habits of a lifetime and threw
caution aside. I stepped forward and cupped her crotch with my
hand. She braced herself against the pressure of my probing
fingers outside her jeans and I could feel the warmth of her
crotch to my touch. She studied my face and as she hadn�t
recoiled to my touch, I groped one of her small yet surprisingly
firm breasts.

She needed no invitation to participate and she quickly reached
for my flies and soon she was groping inside my shorts. I was
already hard and she had some difficulty fishing my erect cock
out. I felt a surge of pride as I saw her eyes widen at the site
of my hard on and knew she thought it was big. She deliberately
adjusted her hand like a dagger grip and slowly stroked the full
length, now protruding at an upward angle from my pants. As she
jacked me I undid the belt on her jeans and then undid the zipper
and eased the denim overI was glad she was a bad hooker. I once
read where hookers say they cannot allow themselves to become
involved with their clients on a personal sexual level. That it
was always strictly business. But Katja clearly was enjoying what
we were doing. I steered her carefully back towards the bed; not
taking my hand from her cunt. She clung to my cock as she moved
backwards until her butt hit the side of the bed. I lifted a foot
and placing it between her knees, I pushed the jeans and her
panties down to her ankles. She slipped her clogs and stepped
awkwardly out of the jeans and underpants. I pushed her back and
she obliged by resting her butt on the edge of the bed and lay
back, letting my cock go as she was unable to reach me easily any
more. I didn�t hesitate but lifting her legs up and out, I then
brought them to rest over my shoulders and sank to my knees. I
went down on her, and tasted the sweet nectar of juvenile pussy;
complete with the sweet sickly aroma that went with her natural
arousal brought on by my fingers fucking her.

She gasped and raised her hips as my tongue went rasping over her
sex and nudging her clitoris. I briefly wondered who had been
here before and was she clean; but her sexual response to my
sucking and fingers now wedged in her tight hole, drove the
thought from my mind. I was well under way with my own personal
agenda to get between this young Dutch girl�s legs as soon as I
had her primed and ready. She was increasinly responsive girl and
my hand was becoming wet from her juices and my saliva. I worked
her steadily and soon she had her hands on my head, pushing me
into her groin. I worked the clitoris with the hard tip of my
tongue and slid my fingers in and out of her slackening vagina;
loosening by her arousal. I missed the early signs of her orgasm
as she suddenly stiffened and tried to lock her legs behind my
head as she twisted, first one way and then the other as a strong
spasm shook her body. Just like she had had an electric shock.
She gasped and groaned loudly and her hands left my head and she
gripped the duvet on the bed and gasped again, seguing into
breathless panting as she clearly came quite hard. Her sex was
wet and slick and I wondered if this was the female ejaculation I
had read about. She was now quite sopping wet and I had nearly
all of three fingers in her to the second knuckles. Her orgasm
aroused me further ans I stood, her legs still draped over my
shoulders, and I took my cock and speared her in one hard shove.

She gasped at the force of the intrusion. Her looseness on my
fingers was misleading. She was actually very tight and this
initial quick forced penetration was obviously of discomfort to
her initially. I felt the resistance but my carnal will saw me
shove hard and I went to the hilt, feeling my cock bottom out
against her insides; probably her young cervix. She groaned in a
way that told me this was not passion but discomfort she was
feeling. I gripped her sides and eased back and she sighed at the
relief on her innards. I made a mental note not to go so deep
again. I failed. I couldn�t help myself. I fucked her like a
madman for a short blissful five minutes and came hard and loudly
as I mashed her back down on the bed; leaning in and over her
with her knees pushed back against her chest as I leveraged my
hips from the balls of my feet as I fucked her hard. Crying like
a wounded bull, as my cum spurted into her tight hole. She was
groaning and gasping and clinging to the bed as if her life
depended on it. I rutted her a few short hard jolts as I wrung
the last of my ejaculation from my cock and balls. I leaned
against her for a few short minutes and slowly eased my still
hard cock from her tight teenage cunt. She had her head turned to
one side on the bed and her eyes were shut with her mouth hanging
slack open. Her chest was rising and falling rhythmically. I
decided she had enjoyed the encounter if not necessarily being
fucked at the end. I felt that overall she thought this was a
good thing even if I got a bit rough.

 I lowered her feet to the floor and she slowly struggled, half
standing, half propped against the bed. I looked between her legs
and saw the pink inner of her labia and the obvious slime of
semen now gathering on one of the labia, ready to drop onto her
inner thigh. I could see my cock waving in front of her and then
glanced at her pubic area and realised she had no obvious pubic
bush. She was apparently shaven. I had never seen this on a woman
before. I run my fingertips over her pubis and I could feel the
slight rasp of invisible stubble I slipped my fingers into her
slit and could tell gravity was already leeching my cum from her.
I dredged it onto my fingers and stood looking at the slimy goo.
I looked at her face and a slight look of concern came over her.
I slowly offered her my fingertips. At first she made as if to
shy away but something stopped her and she half reluctantly, half
expectantly leaned forward and took my fingertips into her mouth.
She laved them clean of my cum and she worked her lips together
once she had finished cleaning them. I reached behind her head
and pressured her forward and down. She sunk to her knees and
took me in her mouth and proceeded to lick me clean of her juices
and my cum.

I fucked her again quite soon after this initial onslaught. I
stripped her and worked her boobs for some minutes. Crouching
over her; both of us naked now. I sucked and twirled the taught
young nipples and kneaded the firm breasts that were now smaller
mounds as they flattened out as she lay on her back. I worked my
fingers between her legs once more and brought her off a second
time, through masturbation and mouthing her breasts and nipples.
She came gasping and almost sobbing, as the delirium brought
about by the fingers and mouth caused her to loose coherency and
she gabbled and gasped in Dutch as she enjoyed the feelings
cursing through her young body. Her legs drawing up and then
twisting involuntarily this way and that as if she were trying to
get comfortable before sleep. I never let her settle and getting
down off the bed; I dragged her body to the edge of the bed and
forcibly rolled her onto her stomach and dragged her legs off the
bed so she was now bent over. Just as before, I stood between her
thighs; this time as she lay front down, and fucked her. She was
ready for the onslaught this time and she countered the hard
thrusts by pushing hard against the bed in an attempt to minimize
the depth I gained. Like she was trying to move away from me. It
may have helped ease her discomfort but I fucked her faster and
harder and for a second time, cried out in apparent anguish as I
came; emptying what was left I my balls, into her tunnel. I was
breathing hard and stood looking at the veins sticking out on my
cock as I slowly moved in and out in my own personal afterglow.
My shaft slick and red from the exertion and heat of friction
from her tight vaginal walls. I pulled the head nearly right out,
then slowly eased balls deep into her until she groaned lightly
in discomfort as I nudged her cervix. Her labia splayed slightly
outwards because of the fullness of my cock. I saw the brown
smudge of her anus and lightly dragged a finger tip across it.
She flinched at my touch. He previous night, I had opened this
feature of a small boy; like a tulip opening to the sun. I had
rent it open by pushing the fat mushroomed cock in through the
tight but lubricated portal to the lad�s inner soul. Now I had
the visual synergy of the sex organ of this young teen girl,
spread apart by my cock; and not an inch away the slightly opened
pucker that seemed to open and wink as I maneuvered my cock in
the tight orifice below. I made a mental note. I was going to
sodomize that hole before morning. One way or the other. If Anton
could take me with ease and fervor, Katja would come to
experience it the same.

I finally disengaged as my cock was flagging to keep hard. I had
cum twice in relatively short interval so I knew I need to
recharge myself. I helped her stand and suggested she shower. She
nodded without saying a word and with a look of total obedience,
padded off to the bathroom. I heard the hiss of piss as she
emptied her bladder. Was this a way of purging her urethra. My
wife used to always pee after sex; before any thought of sleep.
She told me it was incase any bacteria got into the tiny orifice
and caused an infection. I had no cause to disbelieve the
rationale behind this. Maybe al women knew this. Maybe she was
simply busting for a piss. I followed her and as she stood
reaching in beyond the shower curtain; feeling the water
temperature, I too pissed into the bowl. She started when she
heard the splash of urine into the toilet but did not turn to
acknowledge my presence. She stepped into the bath and pulled the
curtain across and I heard the uneven splash of the water as it
cascaded off her body as she washed herself under the streaming
water. I returned to the bedroom and gathered up our clothes,
lying them in two piles on the disheveled bedspread. I untangled
her skimpy black panties from the inverted legs of her jeans and
after glancing towards the bathroom door lest she come out and
discover me handling her underwear, I placed them against my
noise almost as an involuntary act of perversion. They smelled
musky but not offensive or strongly of her sex or any traces of
urine, as might be expected at the end of a warm spring day. I
examinded them and realised they were good quality. I picked up
the matching black bra and decided these were expensive. The top
and jeans she wore were Dolce and Gabbana. I wasn�t sure if they
were real or fakes, but the overla impression was that Katja wore
name brands of good quality; authentic or otherwise. Someone
either bought these for her or she did well enough between her
part time salon job and hooking.

I heard the shower slow and fall silent. Placing the panties back
under her clothes on the bed, I quickly fished in my jeans pocket
and removed my wallet. I looked around quickly and with no
obvious place to hide it, decided to take the wallet into the
bathroom with me lest she made a habit of robbing her clients. I
pulled my jeans on as if I had been waiting partly dressed for
her to finish her shower. This way I coud put the wallet back in
the pocket and shuck the jeans before getting into the shower.
There would be no show of distrust on my part, if she was in fact
true and honest to me. I could also ock the bathroom door while I
showered. She did not suspect a thing and after I had showered
and towleled off and dressed, I returned to the room. She was
sitting on the one easy chair in the room. Not lounging back
relaxing but sitting demurely at the front of the seat with her
hands clasped together on her knees. She looked very young in
this pose. Like a young girl told to sit up straight and behave,
by her mother or a teacher. It was nearly six o�clock. We had
been here most of the afternoon. Time had really flown by. I
thought of Anton. I wondered where he was now. How soon would it
be before he would be delivered back to his mother and gher
abusive boyfriend. Katja had implied the boy had been rounded up
before, yet had run away again. Could he do that again?

�Dinner?� I said looking at the young teen.

�Ja, yes,� she said brightly.

I was hungry. She probably was as well. She stood and I ushered
her to the door with a swing of my hands. We went to a different
bistro to the one Anton and I had visited the night before. We
both had soup and a hearty beef based casserole or stroganoff.
She drank Pepsi and I had a glass of house red wine. After the
main course we both had a light strudel and cream for desert and
I washed it off with the harsh black espresso so common in
Europe. We chatted casually but I never really found out any more
than she had already told me earlier that day. I resigned myself
to remaining curious about her origins and real situation in this
permissive city. She assured me she had not seen the last of
Anton; that he would run again and find his way back here. I paid
the bill and we left. As we neared my hotel, she became a little
skittish and allowed herself to fall half a pace behind me.
Looking around and appearing undecided about what to do next. I
stopped and looked at her.

�What�s the matter Katja?� I asked inquiringly.

�Nothing. I�perhaps I should now leave you,� she said hesitantly
and looked at me somewhat expectantly.

I sensed she wanted to stay but there was something holding her
back.

�No I would like you to stay with me,� I said firmly. The added;
�like Anton did,� and gazed at her steadily seeing if she took
the meaning.

I really meant I wanted to fuck her tight ass off. She gazed
around somewhat unsure and then stared at me steadily.

�I need to get money,� she said almost sheepishly.

I regarded this rather forlorn figure standing before me. I
realised what she meant and why she said it. She did not want to
leave but she needed to go out on the streets. She was not going
to spend the night with me when she should be working; at
whatever job she had in mind. I didn�t believe she wanted to rush
off to the hair salon at seven forty-five in the evening. She was
probably thinking of some street work. Maybe a hand job or blow
job up some alley; even a fuck or two in some friendly brothel
was in her mind. Or else she was simply too embarrassed to
negotiate a price with me given we had fucked earlier and no
suggestion of money had come up. Perhaps now she wanted to be
paid but didn�t not know how to differentiate the mutual passion
as it was, from the basic sex it should have been.

�I can give you money,� I said calmly, looking at her steadily.

�I�m not a prostitute,� she said quickly and looked away as if
her face would betray her and tell me it was a lie.

�I know that Katja,� I said soothingly and stroked her face
lightly with my fingertips. �But you have had no chance to be at
the salon this afternoon. See it as compensation missing work and
for taking care of me after Anton was taken,� I said smoothly.

The �taking care of me� of course was double entendre. She had
taken care of me by submitting to my lust. And not without some
enjoyment on her part. She looked at me believing the lie in the
content of the words. She was still questioning me with her eyes.
I knew what she wanted to know.

�Say two hundred Euro,� I said suggesting it was fair
compensation.

She would hardly earn fifty Euro sweeping hair clippings off a
salon floor. Maybe one hundred Euros and an aching jaw by morning
if she worked the night blowing Johns. She already had knowledge
on my sexual mores so she would hopefully reason I was �the devil
you know� rather than the pot luck of another night working the
streets of Amsterdam. My suggestion seemed to more than fit her
budget in mind and she grinned thankfully and nodded her
acceptance. I could afford two hundred Euros to fuck this firm
young hard body all night. I had the time in the train to Paris
the next day, to recuperate from any sexual excesses I could
enjoy with her.

I fucked her three times that night. The return to the hotel saw
us undress quickly and I lay on the bed as she kneeled over me
and gave me an exquisite blowjob; with me stopping her just short
of blowing my nuts into her mouth. I then rolled her onto her
back and fucked her hard. She was now prepared for my sexual
style and she made a good job of minimizing the deep rutting
without the discomfort of the first two occasions, and she seemed
to enjoy being fucked by a thick cock that clearly she held in
some awe. She sat forward on her elbows and watched wide-eyed as
I knelt between her legs and fed it slowly into her tight wet
warmth. She clung to me with her arms around my neck and her
knees pressing against me as I fucked her slowly at first, and
then quickening the pace as she lay back and I filled her deep
and full with my cock; as I came hard inside her young body for
the third time that day. I rested a short while then went down on
her and quickly brought her to orgasm with my tongue and fingers.
I had a creampie. I had never done this before. I could taste the
salty, slightly acrid taste of my cum a mingled with the
perspiration from her crotch and the wet secretions of her
arousal. She bucked and arched her hips against my fingers and
mouth pressed hard against her clitoris. I chuckled to myself as
she let out a little series of vaginal farts as I disengaged my
fingers wedged tightly in her vagina.

We rested. Lying side by side on our back, arms loosely tangled.
I briefly wondered what she did for birth control. She was
certainly child bearing age. And I wondered briefly about STD or
AIDS and her clear lack of concern for condoms and safe sex. I
felt a brief pang of anxiety run over me at this thought, but a
quick survey of the package she represented lying beside me and I
resigned myself to the fact that it was now what it was. I was
already doomed if I was to be doomed by this young Lolita. A part
of me already denied it was a possibility. That part of me beat
the anxiety from my consciousness and I drifted off into blissful
afterglow.

I�m not sure what time I came out of my slumber. But I was aware
it was dark outside despite the dim lighting from the single
bedside lamp still switched on. It was dusk when we returned from
the bistro and I hadn�t pulled the heavy blackout drapes as there
was still a semblance of daylight coming through the windows. Now
it was obviously night time outside. I Looked at Katja lying
beside me. She had turned and was lying with her back to me,
presumably asleep. Her upper leg was pushed forward and bent at
the knee. This allowed me to see most of her lower leg�s inner
thigh; and she appeared to have her hands in front of her chest.
We were both still lying on top of the duvet and it was a
testament to how warm the room was that neither of us had sought
to get under the blankets following the sex. I leaned back a
little and studied her back and her cute butt. Her sex was hidden
by her thighs resting together but the crease between her
buttocks was alluring in its own way. I reached forward and
lightly traversed my fingertips up her lower leg�s inner thigh
and eased under her to the cleft between her legs. I could just
touch the back of her young sex lips. I lightly worked the finger
around near the back of her slit and then trailed it lightly back
and felt the disturbed crinkle of her anus. I though back to
earlier that afternoon when I had stroked this brown smudge and
yearned to take her there. He thought of this caused me to start
to become aroused. It was time to try, I thought.

I carefully eased off the bed and silently padded across to the
old chest of drawers beside the TV cupboard. The bottle of
lubricant supplied by Anton was sitting at the back of the chest
top, having been placed there this morning. I looked at the
bottle and confirmed it was still a third full. I tiptoed back to
the bed and eased myself back up and lay behind her and flipped
the cap of the bottle. I squeezed a small amount onto my finger
tips. Just enough to allow me to transfer it to the pucker; and
possible a few millimeters inside the opening. I lay breathing
steadily as a result of the concentration I gave to easing the
lubed fingers back up over her brown crinkle. It went much better
than I anticipated. I succeeded in smearing enough of the lube
around the area; using my fingertips as a blind person reads
Braille. I satisfied myself she was now quite slick on the
surface of the anus. I repeated the effort only this time
confining my touch to easing the middle finger into the opening.
She was tight and I had to be very careful not to push
unnecessarily hard and wake her in alarm. I repeated this process
twice and I congratulated myself that I had been able to
penetrate her with my thickest finger, just passed the first
knuckle. I was definitely into the sphincter muscle area. But it
was now the manner in which she lay that restricted me going
deeper. The resistance was not being offered by her anus, rather
it was the cramped way I had my arm and to get a straight push. I
was stumped. I could not go any deeper. Time to be bolder.

I ran a hand up the inner part of the thigh on her lower leg.
Only this time I was not so delicate. I realised I could never
hope to penetrate her anally without her becoming aware and
possibly trying to repel this advance. So instead I decided I
would make a full on attempt to rouse her, hopefully sexually, by
working her inner thigh up into her sex. The plan was to get her
to flatten out onto her stomach and spread her legs to allow me
to finger her cunt. From there I would simply include the already
slicked anal area and my greasy finger would have better access
to penetrate her. From there it was a guess as to how far she
would let me go with her asshole. It didn�t take long after I
stroked her inner leg, for her to make a small grunting �waking
up� type noise and she lifted her head from the pillow as if to
turn around then lowered it back down again. I figured she did
not know where she was or who she was with initially, which is
why she roused her head but the sleepy recall of the day, the
room and me made her relax again. I worked up into her sex and
she obliged by doing exactly as I had hoped. She adjusted her
position to lie on her stomach with her legs splayed open. I had
no difficulty pushing my fingers into her vagina and I slowly
stroked her forward and back, occasionally inserting into her
warm sticky warmth. But as I moved back and forth along the slit,
I over shot and grazed the pucker of her anus. She never reacted
at al to the first casual swipes so I became more insistent as
the fingers grazed the crinkled orifice and by the time she
lifted her head off the pillow to turn it to look at me, I
already had my middle finger inside her asshole and my ring
finger and pinky I her vagina. My index finger was bent as far
under the palm of my hand so as not to restrict the depth of the
invading digits.

She saw the finger penetration as a part of the action of the
fingers in her cunt and made no effort to try and expel the digit
in her asshole. Instead she moved her hands up either side of her
head and gripped the pillow; her face now turned towards me and
her eyes half closed. I scrambled to retrieve the bottle of lube
and while it was somewhat awkward, I was able to dribble quite a
lot of the thick lube onto the junction of my finger and her
annual opening. From that point her anus was the prize and I
concentrated on working the lube into the inner walls of her
sphincter and anal cavity. She briefly opened her eyes and stared
at me as I worked a second finger in and at one point I noted she
clamped her lower lip between her teeth and hissed in breathing
as I clearly caused a jolt of discomfort as I tried inserting the
tip of my pinky with the two fingers already embedded I her ass.
Now I made no pretense and I raised myself to kneel beside her
buttock and for the next ten minutes or so, she lay passive as I
worked as much of the lube, and as many fingers as I could, into
her tight butt hole. I watched her hands clasp and unclasp the
pillow as a barometer of the discomfort I was causing. But not
once did she try to resist. Eventually I satisfied myself that
she was dripping lube and soft and open to my fingers. I was able
to smear sufficient lube onto my free hand and slick my stiff
cock and slowly I eased over her body, straddling her with one
hand on my cock and three fingers of the other hand inside her
asshole. She was now gripping the pillows tightly. I realised she
knew what was coming and was bracing herself. We were almost off
one side of the bed and I spent a little time coaxing her back
into the middle. She gasped several times as her movement caused
my fingers to rent her a little and it was clearly a discomfort.
I was ready. I let my cock go and pushed my hand under her groin
and lifted against her bodyweight. She took the meaning and with
a groan of complaint as the fingers once again stretched as she
moved her body, she raised herself up so her knees came forward
on the bed and she was in a half kneeling position. She had her
forehead resting between her hands on the pillow and she was
breathing quite hard now. She was opened and ready.

I had my legs outside hers so I slipped in between her thighs and
she spread her legs wider as I nudged her inner thighs with my
knees. I leaned forward, and drawing my fingers out, I touched
the tip of my cock to her slightly dilated opening and slowly
began to push forward. It took considerable patience and
concentration to get my greasy cock into her lubed asshole. She
was very tight. Much tighter than Anton, though to be fair to
her, Anton was practiced at receiving men into his funky recess
and he actively assisted the penetration. Katja simply crouched
and remained passive. I managed to get a suitable height for my
forward movement, such that the entry became a straight push and
this helped enormously. I slowly pushed in and out and
eventually, after what seemed like an age, I had most of my cock
in her ass. Her pucker was stretched and it glistened dully as a
result of the residue of lube I had wiped there. Now I started to
slowly move in and out and eventually I was able to penetrate her
such that my balls were against her sex lips. I was in.

I fucked her slow and as gentle as I could. Using her grunts and
groans when the cock caused her discomfort to adjust and slow and
sometimes rest briefly while she got used to it. I seemed to be I
her for hours and I was incredibly aroused and excited. This was
much more erotic than when I had first penetrated Anton. He was
totally involved. This was more about my dominance and control
and I felt a passion and lust I could not recall ever before. I
slow fucked her for about fifteen minutes and she eventually
relaxed and I was able to bottom out without her complaining too
much. I relied on a straight poke into her so as not to twist or
move sideways; which seemed to cause her most discomfort. I built
the speed slowly and at the end I was fucking her just as
vigorously as I did when taking her vaginally. At some point when
I was on the brink of cumming, I realised she was crying quite
loudly. It wasn�t sobbing in pain. I slowed to understand what
her problem was and it was then I discovered she had one hand
between her legs. She was masturbating herself while I sodomized
her! I felt a surge of lust and resumed fucking her ass
vigorously and as she trembled and cried out in her orgasm I let
myself reach the brink and came hard, pushing deep as I spurted
into her bowel. I rutted this way for maybe eight to ten short
thrusts and emptied my balls into her pliable young body for a
third time since meeting her.

She let her hips sink to the bed and I eased down with her. Her
strength was sapped by the orgasm she had and after lying lightly
on her back, supported by my hands either side of her shoulders,
I slowly backed out of her. She groaned as the cock twisted a
little in getting clear. I was still very hard but I knew I would
soon deflate as I too was feeling quite wasted now. I pulled
unsteadily back off her and stepped onto the floor. It was time
for proper sleep. I glanced at the clock radio dial and noted it
was gone two in the morning. We were both literally fucked. I
pulled the bedclothes back and she reluctantly roused herself to
allow the bedding to be pulled back under her, and she crawled
under the blankets. I climbed in behind her and wrapping my arms
around her, snuggled up to her small frame from behind. We both
passed out with fatigue.

I became aware of the shower running. It was daylight and it
appeared quite sunny outside. Katja was not in bed. I realised
she was showering. I looked at my watch and it was gone ten
fifteen. Christ we had slept like the dead. I had to clear the
hotel by noon. I lay on my back listening to the shower and
reflected on the last forty-eight hours. I had had sex with a
pubescent boy and a thirteen or fourteen year old girl. It was
the most fantastic carnal adventure of my life, albeit full of
danger; both legally, and medically. Had I caught something from
them? Would I be discovered, despite the short time I had left in
Amsterdam? What about my moral and ethical judgment. It was sex
with kids. It was child abuse. Did that make me a pedophile? I
recalled it was Anton who came onto me; not me to him. Could that
justify my response; as the adult I could have stopped it. And
with Katja it was a mutual expectation we would fuck. My
expectation was borne out by the lowering of my moral standards
because I had been invited into Anton�s warm tight ass. But
again, I was the adult. I could not blame him. For him it was
survival on these mean streets. Amsterdam with a high traffic of
tourists drawn to its permissive ways. Was this the Bangkok of
Europe? I had friends who served in Viet Nam who told lurid tales
of R&R in Bangkok and the youth of Thailand who opened their
thighs for the US soldiers. Here in Amsterdam anything went; so
screwing two under-aged street hustlers was really part of the
decadence tolerated or ignored by the permissive Dutch.

The shower stopped and I decided it was time to get up as well. I
needed to get moving. Checkout was noon. My train to Paris was at
one o�clock. I walked into the bathroom and took Katja by
surprise. She was drying herself and she stopped as if caught
misbehaving as I pushed the door open. She raised the towel up to
her chin and stood behind it and stared at me.

�Morning,� I said nervously.

Her body language wasn�t great. She looked pensive.

�Gut morning,� she mumbled.

I stood naked before her and she glanced at my cock and looked
nervously back at my face. I decided she was worried I might want
another session of sex and this was obviously not favored by her.

�I�ll shower now too,� I said and pushed passed her.

She circled back around me as I went to the shower and turned it
on. Being naked, it was simply a matter of hopping in, once I
left my watch on the washstand.  I showered quickly and I heard
her leave the bathroom soon after I had stepped under the water.
I was disappointed she was acting this way. Clearly she had some
regrets about our time together. Perhaps the cold light of day
made her question her actions and her submission. Or was it just
the sodomy she regretted. She was a hooker, despite her
protestations to the contrary. Had she never had it there before?
I finished showering and shaved quickly, using an electric razor.
I finished my morning ablutions with deodorant and face cream,
and dried my hair using the small blow dryer in the washstand
cupboard. I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed out to the
room. She was already dressed. I noted she had not washed her
hair and she was trying to tame a wayward tuft in front of the
mirror inside the closet door. She turned quickly as I entered
and stood watching me dress. Once she was sure I was finished
dressing and I had started to tidy up yesterdays underwear, sox
and shirt into a laundrey bag she approached me and stopped just
short of me.

�You said two hundred,� she said dully, looking at me pensively.

I narrowed my eyebrows at her statement then realised she was
referring to my offer of �compensation� for her time yesterday.
After all, she was �not a prostitute�.

�Ah, yes, yes. You�re right. Two hundred,� I confirmed.

I reached into my pocket and took out my wallet. It occurred to
me that yesterday I had been security conscious about my wallet
yet this morning I had left her alone while I showered. Not
thnking she could have simply lifted it and fled the bulding. I
guess she was honest at heart. I fumbled in the zipped bill
pocket and drew out four fifty Euros notes and handed them to
her. She remained at arms length and looked at the money in my
hand; not at me. She nodded her thanks and I saw her push the
money into a tight front pocket of her jeans. She finally looked
up at me. I sensed she was somewhat embarrassed. This looked for
the world like a John paying a prostitute and I think she felt
that.

�I�m not a prostitute,� she said quietly, as if sensing what I
was thinking.

�No Katja. Of course you�re not. That was for getting us away
from the police. And for disrupting your work yesterday,� I said
lightly, endorsing her lie.

She gave a weak grin and a nod of acknowledgement and stood as if
not knowing what to say next. I turned half to the door and then
back to her.

�Well you�d best get on. No reason to have me disrupt today as
well,� I offered quickly and moved out of the way so she could
make the door.

She nodded and politely smiled quickly and walked quickly to the
door. I felt she was barely containing the urge to simply bolt.
As she reached for the door handle I moved up within arms length
of her.

�Katja,� I called softly.

With a hand on the doorknob she froze and turned to look at me, a
look of concern on her face.

�If you see Anton again, please give him my best and tell him how
sory I was we had to part in such a bad way,� I said evenly.

She pondered my words and her face softened as she realized I was
genuine about Anton. She smiled and nodded.

�And you take very good care of yourself,� I added. �There are
many bad people in this world. You are too beautiful and bright
to let yourself be dragged down,� I said, and smiled at her.

She nodded and mumbled �thanks�. But she did not turn to rush out
as I knew she had wanted to do. She looked suddenly thoughtful
and then looked at me.

�You really prefer boys don�t you,� she said looking me in the
eye.

I fidgeted at this observation and turned away from her gaze as I
pondered my answer.

�I prefer beautiful people. Here in Amsterdam I came to learn
that gender does not matter as much as I used to think. I learned
about a part of my sexuality I had never explored before. With a
man or a woman. I guess it could happen with a woman as much as a
man. But, no, I actually prefer women,� I said looking at her.

She almost gave a sigh of relief, and nodded her understanding.

�You did not go with Anton because he had a�� she paused and then
looked at me nervously��a cock.� She completed the sentence.

I laughed lightly.

�No. He became like a girl when we had sex. He had finesse and
eagerness with me which was dictated by his physical attributes.
He was able to make up for his lack of womanly attributes that in
my eyes. I just followed nature and his guidance,� I said with a
slight chuckle.

She looked a lot happier at my words. I looked at her softly and
stepped forward and took her arm lightly.

�Sex with a man or a woman should always be about respect and
intimacy. What you and I did was just as important as what Anton
and I did. The difference is Anton knew only one way just as
perhaps you knew only of one way. But the woman has the luxury of
behaving much like a man, if you understand what I am saying.�

She grinned and nodded.

�Thank you,� she said graciously. �Now I must go. Please have a
safe journey to Paris. I will tell Anton you asked after him when
we meet again,� she added.

With that she grinned sadly at me and slipped out the door. So
that was it. She thought I had used her as a boy. In reality she
was as right as Anton was in believing I had used him as a girl.
Odd that the same tight little orifice we all have could bring
such a different perspective from the same use. I did not favor
boys. But I had no doubt I could fuck a boy, or man, if the
situation arose again. Equally I could sodomize a girl or a
woman. I had not particular interest in the male penis, apart
from my own. I touched and blew Anton almost out of obligation. I
much preferred tasting Katja to sucking Anton. I had never really
got off on homosexuality as an emotional state but Anton taught
me I could enjoy all male sex. I pondered this as the train sped
across France to Paris. I stared out the window at the French
countryside and considered all I had experienced in Amsterdam. My
holiday had just started. Over the next three weeks I would
visit, Spain, Switzerland, Italy and Greece, before returning
across Western Europe to the United Kingdom; and from there back
home to the US. This had been an amazing start. This had been a
watershed in my life.


The End

� 2007 Romany. Protected by copyright law. Please do not copy,
edit, amend or post this on any website without the author�s
permission.


https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/gypsey/romany/



  
Amsterdam