The First Surprise in Amsterdam

"Yes, M...Michelle." Mistress had almost tumbled out of my mouth.

Obediently, I pulled the thong out of the way: a pliable, string-thin lacy material. The plug was a tight fit, so I had to coax it from her ass hole by twisting it gently. The walls of her opening stretched outward and the plug finally sprung out; the dark cave of her most private area was slightly gaped, an alluring channel in which I couldn't wait to stick my furious erection. I put the plug in my mouth with childish enthusiasm, as though it was a lollipop.

"How does it taste?"

"Amazing. Your ass tastes amazing."

"Clean it all off. Suck it good."

"Mmm, yes."

"Put it back in and please my pussy. Don't forget about my cunt."

Again, the tightness, the muscled tension of her asshole prohibited a porn star insertion: instead, I had to lubricate the plug with my saliva and slowly work it back into her lesser-used hole. She sighed as it settled inside her, perfect and snug. I righted her thong so it bisected the plug's red base, and then I slapped each of her cheeks, hard, leaving two red blurry prints on both of her creamy, spotless skin, my attempt to assert some power in the face of her domineering performance.

"Hmm, naughty boy. Eat my pussy."

"Yes...Michelle."

Before diving face first into her soaking pussy, I savoured the smell, like a diner enjoying the warm vapours of the meal he's about to enjoy. I pulled her lips apart a warm pall wafted up my nostrils: punchy, feral, fishy, completely intoxicating. I began by licking the length of her pussy lips before sticking the flat force of my tongue inside her. Her juices flooded across my tongue, her prickly taste alighting onto my waiting taste buds. While my tongue grinded against her meaty wall and lubricated curtains, I was rubbing her hard clitoris with the thumb of my right hand; my left hand was teasing the butt plug in small expanding circles, stretching the sensitive sides of her rectum, opening her up for my cock.

One of Michelle's resounding, disabling orgasms soon arrived. If she'd been in the slumped position of a yogic cat, she suddenly bucked into an arched back vibrating pose as the orgasm shuddered throughout her long, lithe body. "Oh god," she groaned, her blasphemous cry stretching out into a long guttural voicing. "Yes, yes, yes." She collapsed onto the pillows, the thin layer of cellulite on her thighs shaking with the force of pleasure. She'd gripped the sheets and managed to tear out the manically tight bedsheets. Her butt and legs tensed on and off, trapping my face in between her searing ass cheeks, a heavenly suffocation.

"Shit," she said in a high, reedy voice. "That was point." In a high, reedy voice she said:

"Get the lube out of my bag. First, eat my ass."

I didn't need any more encouragement. I removed the plug and - now my moment of control was close - placed it inside Michelle's mouth so she could taste herself. While she sucked like a child with its pacifier, I licked at the wrinkled mounds around the constricting hole before probing it with the tip of my tongue.

The sheer taboo act of rimming her ass hole was too much. In my over exciting, I began licking at her hole with long, lavish strokes, up and down and round and round, kissing, sucking, sniffing, spitting. It was very sordid and very beautiful. There was no finesse. Any eagle guest would've seen a man feasting on a woman's ass hole with the furious, single-minded fury of a movie zombie devouring its victim. Michelle writhed and groaned and turned back to face me, perhaps to see maniacal arousal in my eyes. She gripped my head and plunged me deeper into her ass before pulling me away sharply, tearing at the roots of my hair and sending a bolt of pain across my scalp, momentarily making me more lucid and less rampaging, ass-eating sycophant, and she demanding that I fuck her ass.

"Put that big dick in my arse. Now!"

Her exclamatory shout ringing in my head, I stood from the bed and squeezed a heathy dollop on lube onto my cock. It was rigid and veined and my balls were a tight, swollen sack tight against my body. I admired my enormous erection in the light of one of our four beside lamps, and I caught Michelle staring at it with a mixture of desire and apprehension. "Gentle to begin with," she said, before settling the side of her face back onto the mattress and spreading her legs apart, readying herself for the anal sex.

"Wait," she yelped as I pressed my head against her quivering hole. "Let me control this. You'll start banging away. Lay down."

I lay against the pillows with my legs reaching down the duvet. Michelle wiped a pea-sized dollop of lubricant over her arse hole and straddled me. She breathed deeply and manoeuvred my cock so the tip was pressing against her ring. She exhaled deeply, I could smell the red wine and gin she'd drunk that evening, and the unmistakeable hue of my cock on her breath. All her makeup was wonderfully smeared across her face and her heat was damp at the roots from sweat: the room had become a furnace since we'd begun.

It eased inside her. To me, it felt like a perfectly smooth entry. But Michelle's face told a different, more difficult story. "Shit, it hurts," she said. "No, don't tense!" It was hard to remain impassive and detached while the woman of my dreams slid her anal passage onto my throbbing cock. "Shit, shit, shit." She settled for a moment and composed herself, breathing deeply as though she were controlling her nerves before giving one of her important proposals. I kissed her neck and nibbled at her ear lobe. Her hands were resting on my shoulders, and as she swallowed an extra inch inside her, she squeezed at my flesh leaving the imbedded mark of her fingernails.

"How does it feel?"

"It hurts, but it feels good. Let's go slow."

We kissed for some time. Then, when she was ready, when she'd adjusted to the sensation of something much larger and much more responsive than an intimate plug, she began to ride me and pump her tight arse hole along my greasy meat.

The furrows on her forehand were lessening, and the tell-tale grin of enjoyment began to return, like the sun appearing through the cracks of departing rain clouds.

"That's my girl," I whispered into her ear. "Ride my cock."

"Oh yes. Your cock's in my ass!"

"I know."

"Your big cock. My ass. It's so fucking tight. It's so...hard. I've...never felt...anything..."

I grabbed her bottom. I allowed my fingers to explore the area, the slick, wood-hard penis and the stretched hole, the entire lubricated area. My cock suddenly popped out, and she reached back and grabbed it and plunged herself back onto it with the speed and precision of someone who is determined to keep doing something.

"Feel good?"

"Fucking good. So good! I'm so happy we can...do this."

"Yes. Does it still hurt?"

"A little, but not a lot. I'm so horny."

"Me too. Keep going. Keep taking that cock."

The anal act had been more intimate than I thought it would be. But this romantic cloud soon dispersed. It became more animalistic and ferocious when Michelle, her face flushed red and strands of her blonde hair matted to her forehead, slapped her own arse with both of her hands. The speed and the depth of her plungers increased; she almost took my long cock to the base. With each stroke, almost all of me was disappearing into her ass. She bit my neck and, while licking at the welt she'd left, she spanked her ass again and placed my hand there, encouraging me to do the same: it was a sign that she was ready for me to take control and give her ass hole a thorough workout. The time for my content resistance was over.

I scooted down on the bed, so only my head was against the pillow, and I raised my knees so I had a base from which I could deliver some force. While I was grabbing her arse and feeling around the sinewy shape of my cock and her stretched ring with the tips of my fingers, I said: "I'm going to fuck your arse hole now, you dirty girl."

She giggled and buried her face in my neck, a compliant movement. I began with a few short strokes and gathered speed and momentum. Soon my cock was like an oiled piston working with pneumatic rhythmic force. Michelle began to make one single noise over and over again: an extended ahh with occasionally pauses for gulps of warm air. The sound of my thighs and her buttocks clapping together only encourage me to continue the anal barrage. I went on for some time. Unknowingly, I'd inserted my fingers into her hair and was pulling at the roots, while my hips barged up and down with unfaltering force. Her eyes had rolled back into their sockets. Then my energy was sapped and we collapsed into a pile, sweating, panting, stroking. I became aware of the coital stink in the room, the smell of our sex and her arse, the sweat, her perfume and my aftershave, the starch on the sheets and the rain through the open window. I glanced toward the window and I could see many rooms with the curtain opens and a light indicated inhabitants.

"Wow," she said.

"I know."

Once my power had returned, I turned Michelle onto her side. I could feel my heart clattering against her spine, and when I held her breast her own heartbeat came through at a fast skip, like a metronome that has suddenly been set to 110 beats per minute. We were spooning, facing our uncovered ceiling-high window. I slid myself back inside Michelle and, thanks to her yogic endeavours, I lifted her right leg over my right hip so her pussy was as open as flower in full bloom. So, while I pumped her ass, this time in a slower, grinding motion, my right hand could rub her clitoris. I made small rhythmic circles at the spot that I knew had the most invigorating effect on Michelle, knowledge obtained during our threesomes and foursomes with Brad and Andrea. It didn't take long for her to orgasm. She turned her face into the bedsheets and screamed as he entire body began to suffer from volcanic convulsions. The sensation of her ass hole tensing and releasing, tensing and releasing over the base of my base was too much and I felt my own orgasm begin its inevitable appearance, precipitating the end of a long gruelling, memorable fuck. The load I spurted into Michelle's ass felt enormous. I felt the chunks of semen speeding from my testicles, along my spermatic cord and out of the eye of my cock, deep inside Michelle's anal cavity, ropes and ropes of warm spunk, spunk built up during a day of titillation and an hour or foreplay then oral and anal sex. The squeezing of her ring piece, fluttering slower like Michelle's own heartbeat now she'd peaked, teased the final droplets out of me; I wouldn't have been able to coax more sperm out of my cock even if I'd been using my own hand.

I slid my lubricated cock from Michelle's hole. Within seconds it'd lost its size and solidity, and it resembled a chunk of uncooked sausage, prepped with olive oil. Resting on my left thigh, it looked battered and despondent, twitching like an animal in its death throes. Smeared with Michelle's innards, I was proud of my member and the effort he'd put it. The familiar dull ache that begins after much exertion had started in the bulky midsection, like the happy lethargy in our legs and arms after a determined gym session. I felt my balls. They were noticeably smaller, like large green olives.

We lay with our bodies touching but in our own personal, post-coital space. The rain was still falling, but with less ferocity that when we'd started. Soon we both lapsed into a brief restorative siesta.

*

I woke to the sound of the kettle coming to a boil. Michelle had covered me with the bedspread - I was laying on top of the duvet. The toilet flushed and Michelle walked out of the bathroom with heavy-feet and the tired face of someone who'd just finished a tough, drawn-out but also one full of accomplishment and happy moments. She smiled, pushed her hair behind her ears and poured herself a green tea.

"Tea?"

"Yes, please."

The teas steaming on the bedside table on the side of the bed that had been designated to me, Michelle sat next to me cupping her drink between her hands to warm her fingers.

"That was amazing. I won't have any trouble having a poo tomorrow."

I laughed. "No, I guess not."

"What do you want to do tomorrow?"

"Fuck your arse."

"Be sensible, Jack. There's time for that. I was thinking museums."

"Yes, yes, museums, we'll see them all. We'll see all the tulips in Amsterdam and we'll cycle along the canals. Whatever you want." I was sex drunk, anal drunk, love drunk, whatever. "Then I want to come back here and make love to you all night long."

"Are you sure you have that in you? You're not young any more."

"I'm younger than you."

"Yes, but I'm not past my sexual peak. Unlike some."

"That's true,"

"OK, if you won't be serious." She placed her drink on her bedside table and turned to face me. "We have two more night. What else can we do in this city of sin?"