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Jan van Eden

bio - biography

Stories of my life as a student


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, donít 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 didnít 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. Donít 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.


Recent work of Jan van Eden

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