1. The girl in the window, a tale of an Amsterdam night


    Date: 10/12/2014, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: twistedtraveltales, Rating: 1, Source: LushStories

    It’d been six months of happy masturbation. Since my return home I still hadn’t gotten any closer to pussy than the wank mags at work. So when the boys’ trip to Amsterdam came up, I decided to give the other side of life a go. I needed to laid, I was noticing myself that I was becoming more unattractive to the opposite sex by the day. It’s like when you’re with a partner and getting laid all the time, chicks can smell it and they want some of that too. But once you become single, they can smell that too; that stench of desperation. So that was it, I was gonna shag one of those women in the window in Amsterdam, I was gonna become one of those weirdos that do it. But then again I’m pretty certain I’m not the only man to fuck a hooker in Amsterdam. Apart from my illicit encounter in Bangkok it would be a new experience for me. I’d heard the working girls of Amsterdam could be quite bullying once they’d gotten the money off you before you started. The common one was they’d get you in there – fifty Euros for fifteen minutes – they’d take the cash off you, tuck it away somewhere. Then the smile that got you through the door would disappear and your angel would turn into a she-witch and turn back and scowl at you, ‘Well you’ve only got fifteen minutes left, hope you’re hard enough! You’re not too wasted are you?’ And from the stories, most men would quiver and die inside, and in general, walk out of there fifteen minutes later with their confidence around their ankles, fifty quid ...
    poorer; back to their hotels to jerk off. I was already feeling sorry enough for myself, and the idea of that happening made me believe it definitely would. So I thought, well hey, might as well cheat then and scored some Viagra off one of my friends, make the most of it you know. At the time I was earning about seven hundred pounds a week unblocking toilets and shit like that. It was nasty work but it paid well, what could I do? Six of us went back to the Dam, Cousin Paul and his mate Cam, Big Greg, normal Greg, my brother Scott and me. Whoever had booked the accommodation had not really tried hard enough, and the only hotel they said they could find was one fifteen minutes away from the airport. Basically a taxi ride back to the airport and then a half hour train ride to get to Centraal Station. But anyway the hotel was swish as fuck and we had loads of ketamine on us. We brought k instead of coke for one simple reason. Five guys on the lash in Amsterdam would on average consume at least one gram of coke a day each; more than likely two. And that would have turned our cheap trip into costing a near small fortune. Besides when you run out of coke all you want is more, and ‘cause ya’ in Amsterdam you might make the mistake of caving in to the ‘Coke, Coke, Charlie’ guys that harass you everywhere you go; give them fifty Euros for a gram of talcum powder or some shit. So we resisted temptation and saved ourselves the cost and risk of taking an ounce of cocaine to Amsterdam, and ...
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