So here he was, jinking and slinking along the street like Mr Snakehips, or strutting like a prize thoroughbred, horny as hell and out to lay waste to this town.
Turning down Lange Niezel, Oliver paused from time to time to look into the sex shop windows, spying the dildos and love dolls and lube cream and anal ticklers and ball-gags, feeling his sexual frenzy start to build and grow, so that by the time he turned right past Oude Kerk and reached the heart of the Red Light District, heading into the maze of narrow alleyways with their red-lit windows, to Oliver it felt like his cock was so gargantuan it seemed like he’d grown an extra leg.
Way to go, baby! He mouthed to the blondes and redheads and brunettes through the glass windows, wait until you see what I’ve got for you!!
Most of the girls ignored his antics, more interested in their mobile phones, which he found fucking annoying. Ok, but not to worry. Because one of you lucky girls is gonna get the ride of your life. Hubba hubba, cry for your momma! No mercy!!
Oliver spent about half an hour wandering about and trying to choose a girl, heading into the indoor windows next to La Vie en Proost strip club, and then across the canal to the interconnecting streets between this and the next canal, his eyes ogling every woman he saw, even other tourists that caught his eye, up and down Bloedstraat, Stoofsteeg, Zeedijk. Until finally just around the corner from Sex Shop Caligula he spotted the one. A cute and petite brunette, eastern-European by the looks of her features, with a perfect set of tits and a humping perfect body. Oh la la, you gorgeous fitty, he nodded to himself, pleased with his choice. And so he stood directly opposite her window, legs apart like the Colossus of Rhodes, just waiting for her to see him and drag him lustily inside.
After a minute, when she failed to glance up from her mobile and notice him, he hopped across and tapped on the glass.
It didn’t take long to negotiate a transaction, her with the door open and people walking by listening in. How much for a suck and a fuck hun? – Fifty euros, or for two positions one hundred euros – ok babe let’s party, and make it good ok?
Inside it was straight down to business. Money passed hands, off with their kit, a quick wash of his dick over by the bidet, on with the extra-large Johnny ha-ha! And Bob’s your uncle before he knew what’s what he was banging her doggy style like the end of the world was nigh and she was screaming for mercy like they always do!!
For twenty minutes straight he fucked her like she was nothing but a piece of meat, the dirty little girl, slutty teeny-bopping whore, my sexy little nympho, Oliver for some reason unable to get the image of his wife out of his mind despite his best effort not to think about her. And just when it looked like the poor girl was about to pass out from exhaustion he finally finished with one last thrust and a slap on her bum for good measure.
Five minutes later and he was back outside, with a huge satisfied grin on his face and still feeling the effects of a cocaine rush. In desperate need of a piss, he headed across the bridge towards the outdoor urinal near Oude Kerk.
As he hurried over the cobbles he glanced at his watch, noticing that it was coming up to two in the morning. Jesus, where did the time go? A good job he’d booked a later flight for tomorrow, he reckoned he could spend another couple of hours here before heading back over to his hotel. Perhaps grab a drink, pop a couple of pills of Bloom, and maybe have Round 2 as he was still feeling randy as hell. Or he could go and watch one of the live sex shows, and maybe get selected for a bit of audience participation, fuck yeah! They might even offer him a job.
Either way the night was still young, and wifey was still waiting back home, convinced that her hard-working husband was tucked up in bed, homesick and counting down the hours until he came dashing through the front door to fling his arms around her and the baby.
Silly bitch. If she’d have tried being a little more adventurous in the bedroom department then perhaps he wouldn’t need to get his jollies away from home like this. It wasn’t his fault that he was highly sexed and brimming with testosterone. He wanted – no, he needed – sex virtually every night, and if she wasn’t willing to provide what he required, then really he had no option but to see all of the escort girls back in
