|
Jan van Eden
bio - biography Stories of my life as a
student
1966
First real money
from my student part time job spent on a visit to a prostitute in Amsterdam.
I was attracted
by the red-lights in Amsterdam without a chance to escape the charms of the
ladies, walking out of the Central Station you crossed the water and then a bit
to the left, don’t remember the number of visits, but always only looking. But
now I had some money of my own and no scruples on spending it on a girl of my
choice. I had been obsessed by sex from a very early age, but my contacts with
girlfriends, anything exceeding a superficial flirt, always ended in a tragedy,
with the girl tearing her heart out. Therefore, I carefully kept my distances
and although there were countless opportunities, I never had sex with a girl.
Generally, when I did not have much physical work or exercise I was so
overheated that I had spontaneous ejaculations in my dreams if I did not
masturbate. In Amsterdam I had already made my choice in earlier weeks, I had
looked at the girls in detail and I had interpreted their gestures and
invitations to make sure I would spend my dearly earned money in the best
possible way. Of course, I was exited in the extreme, with a bulge in my pants
as usual on seeing this scarcely clothed gesticulating women. This time I went
straight to the little street, the Nieuwebrugsteeg nearly at the corner of the
Oudezijds Voorburgwal, right in the entrance of the district, where my
favored woman was sitting. Other days I had seen her in black stockings sitting
on a high chair in front of her small shop window, but today she was standing in
front of the premises with an overcoat over her shoulders talking to two sailor
boys in authentic sailor suit with beret. I must say those days the prostitution
quarters where visited by Amsterdam locals and foreign sailors and they were not
the tourist attraction that they became later. It was nice weather and still
daylight and I was worried about them (the sailors) getting in first. After a
while, I decided they were not seriously interested and I went up to them
greeting the lady. They excused themselves in a kind of English and she led me
in taking my hand. She drew the thin reddish brown curtain and we were private.
She took her coat of and she was standing there in her short black dress on high
heels as in one of my dreams. Her short auburn red hair framed her finely
chiseled face, her eyes just slightly accentuated with black eyeliner. She had
a pleasant voice and we talked a bit standing face to face while she touched me
in a familiar way. I told her honestly that this was my first time to visit a
woman like her and that I was a student from Leiden University, but she refused
to believe that I was a student. Maybe students didn’t visit prostitutes those
days, because I must say when I mentioned things like that, my friends in Leiden
would make extremely negative comments. Anyway, for me she was ravishing and I
told her, we agreed on a price, which was the regular fare of Fl. 25,- and I
gave her the money, which she put away in a cub board. Sorry, but it is getting
a bit cold, I have to attend to the stove, she said while getting a square
petrol can from the adjoining corridor. She squatted down at a light green
coloured Aladdin kerosene heater to carefully fill it up, me watching every move
she made. The room filled with a faint petrol smell but it did not affect my
wild aspirations. The room was quite bare with the high chair to sit in the
window. Her behavior was so normal and relaxed, yet full of feminine charms; she
made me feel at ease and crazy at the same time. She summoned me to undress, so
I took out my shirt, shoes, trousers, and lastly my underpants lifting it over
my towering cock. Don’t remember if she made a comment (most women customarily
do). She had taken off her blouse and stood there in her black lace halter bra
and girdle belt that held up her black nylon stockings. Still on her high heels
pumps. Sitting on the bed, I embraced her, touching her nylons and pressing my
lips on her well-shaped legs. I have from early childhood a more then common
interest in female legs in nylon stockings and I am relating to unconscious
association with an incident whereby I clamped myself on the legs of my teacher
in nursery school, but that is another story. Then, to get on with the job, she
told me to lie down, I obeyed immediately and let my self down on the narrow
steel spiral bed. She sat down next to me and drew with professional skill a
condom over my cock. She took off her bra and girdle belt, while I pleaded with
her to leave it on, but she did not want to know of it. Must say she had lovely
small and firm breasts with her nipples just a bit erect (maybe because of the
cold), which flashed before my eyes when she climbed over me in the single bed,
lightly crushing my dick with her nylon legs. I remember her slightly sagging
soft belly when she came over me and then further down that lovely pussy with
sleek dark hair slightly trimmed, but not bald as the depilated cunts of today.
I would have been quite happy to have her on top of me, but she told me to get
on top, so I moved and looked her straight in the lovely eyes. She helped my
cock into her most intimate hollow that gave me a feeling of belonging. For a
few moments, we held our breath to enjoy the warmth of our perfect union and her
vagina caressed my penis with barely perceivable contractions. I could hardly
believe the complete bliss of this moment and I would love to make it last
forever, but she urged me on with a slight movement of her beckon. Now I felt
the bone structure of her hips against mine, her nylons against my legs, her
soft belly, her lovely titties. I supported myself a little on my elbows for her
comfort, as she was lying there looking me in the eyes anticipantly. Very
cautiously, I started moving up and down. She made me feel comfortable, murmured
a few caressing words and did not hurry me. My dick was bursting hard and hot,
making its own rythem, increasingly in and out, meanwhile engraving the sight of
this lovely body that was underneath me in my memory. I felt the ejaculation
nearly coming, halting my vigorous action and to let it overcome me with the
usual deeply felt pleasure. My entire body in a spasm before I let it go limp
and I burrowed my face in her neck, pressing my lips in a kiss. She let me relax
for a few moments and then I felt her hand getting down to my tool making sure
the condom would stay in place on retracting it. I made room and let me roll on
my back, she grasped some tissues to expertly remove the rubber and clean my
dick. When I came to my senses, I got out of the somewhat squeaky bed and went
to the small washbasin to clean up a bit before putting my clothes. She also
refreshed herself and got into her attire before I was ready. After putting on
my overcoat I embraced her for a last time, kissed her on the cheek and thanked
her extensively for the unforgettable moments I had enjoyed with her, praising
her professionalism and her lovely body. I was nearly 24 years and she must have
been at least 10 years older. I am sure she enjoyed a young man like me in her
professional way, but she could not have possibly realized the unforgettable
first experience she gave to me.
Picture
composed from memory to resemble the woman that gave me my first real-life
intercourse. Maybe a bit too well dressed and glamorous, but for plain beauty
certainly not far of the mark.
|
