Friday, July 23, 2010

Dutch it up


In the cab, she sat between them. She began kissing the one on her right, and the one on her left dared to put his had inside her blouse. She let him. Then she turned. And shared the saliva of the first Dutch with his best friend.

She messaged her man, I am going to this hotel, with two Dutch men. The taxi driver almost crashed, about five times, in the ten-minute drive. Too busy was he staring at the rear view mirror.

She met them at the bar, one of them struck her fancy and when the crowd pushed her his way, they had barely spoken, but she had her hand against his chest, and she could fill him with her legs. Their eyes met and then their lips. It was natural, it was anonymous. Her friend tried to seduce his friend. It didn’t work out. They kissed and kissed and kissed some more. And she was eager to get out of there. He said, what about my friend? She said, well, lets take him along. He didn’t believe, she went to his friend and touched his groin and told him that it was time for the three of them to go somewhere else. Her friend was long gone. Frustration wasn’t her thing.

So they hopped into a cab and headed to their hotel.

She went straight to the toilet and messaged her man the room number, you can never be too careful with anonymous threesomes.

When she came out they were both naked, and the marathon began. One and then the other and then the first and they were so similar in body structures she couldn’t even tell the difference. One condom after the next. One orgasm after the other. Moans.

One after the other and then both of them together. One inside her, the other one in her mouth, with his tongue, with his sex, with his hands, with his ass, with his everything.

They were exhausted. One fell asleep, and she kept at it with the second one. On and on.

And then, she said, ok, I’m done. She got up, dressed and left. She was ready for more, but two Dutch men can go just so far.