How We Met

I should say that Saskia has a lovely body. I met her when I was rowing: she was in her second year and captain of the Women's first crew at the university where we studied in Amsterdam. The truth was that she seduced me. I was a foreign student from the UK, and she was this very gorgeous, very confident girl from Limburg who talked with beautifully soft and rounded 'g' sounds that you only hear way south of Amsterdam.

It was her that taught me my first Dutch phrase. I'd only been in Amsterdam a few days, and was still going through the orientation programme. I signed up for crew and was at the first party organised by the rowing club.

The idea of the party was to get newbies integrated into the club. So an existing member would 'adopt' you for the evening and make sure that you had a good time. Saskia latched onto me pretty much as soon as I arrived at the venue, pouring me drinks and talking to me about rowing.

She fooled me into believing that 'neuken in de keuken' was some form of polite greeting and had me go round saying it to as many people as I could. It seemed to make me very popular -- people laughed and smiled in response to my attempt to speak their language, responding by repeating the same phrase back again. As the drinks flowed and the music started, everything was good in my world. I only found out later that they were all in on the joke.

Just as the party was starting to rock, Saskia invited me back to her apartment. Initially, I turned her down. As a first year, I needed to get to know my crew. Whilst I had been able to have a brief chat with the Men's captain, I had barely spoken to anyone other than saying 'Neuken in the Keuken' to people. When I explained this to her, Saskia took me by the hand, walked me over to the Men's captain and spoke to him briefly in Dutch. A wry smile broke across his face. Then he simply lifted his hand and waved a goodbye before returning to his friends.

Leaving the party, we cycled across the canal belt before parking our bikes. Saskia lived in a beautiful old place that formed the top floor of a house overlooking the historic 'Keizersgracht'. I remember what happened next very well. I was leaning on a worksurface in her kitchen whilst Saskia made us tea when she asked me if I knew what I had been saying all night.

"Neuken in de keuken," I replied smiling.

"But do you really know what it means?" she asked, smiling back.

I replied, "Of course, it's a form of greeting, a hello of sorts. People replied by saying the same thing back to me. Seemed to be quite the ice-breaker in fact, I got to know quite a few of your friends."

Saskia smiled impishly, telling me that she'd teach me what it really meant, but first she needed to go pee. As I waited for her return, I sat on the kitchen worksurface, sipping my drink.

When Saskia returned a few moments later, I almost fell over. She had stripped down and presented herself wearing the most beautiful lacy bra and matching blue G-string panties I had ever seen. They weren't slutty -- they were classy; she clearly had exquisite taste. I did a double take as she walked in; she was tall, her body was ripped with muscle, and she was incredibly body confident.

As I was stumbling for words, she grabbed the bottom of my shirt and pulled it over my head. It got stuck, so she just yanked it apart; buttons flew everywhere and she pulled it off my back.

She then reached around, to the back of her bra and popped the catch, letting it fall onto the kitchen floor. Next, she ripped my jeans and boxers down before taking my swelling cock in her mouth. When I was hard, she sat on the worksurface, legs open. Pulling the gusset of her panties to one side, she grabbed my throbbing dick and urged me into her pussy.

I was initially slow to react -- I hadn't ever experienced someone so confident before, andnot had I experienced being seduced by a woman. When I got with the programme I slipped inside her and fucked her hard. The sudden and unexpected change of energy, the eroticism of being taken by a dominant older woman, and the warm wet feel of her shaved pussy creating a lust in me I hadn't experienced before.

"This," she said, grabbing my hips. "This is neuken in de keuken."

When she was done with the language lesson, she walked us to the full-length gable-end window that overlooked the canal. Once there she bent double so that I could fuck her from behind, reaching round to pull my cock into her hole. I was raging with hormones, and whilst she rested her hands on the window I grabbed her by the hips and slammed into her.

It was a warm summer's night and many of the people walking below heard our fucking. Her moaning and the sounds of her orgasms drifted out through the top-floor windows of her canal house apartment. Many people stopped, looking up to watch Saskia enjoying 'neuken in de keuken' with me.

She then pushed me to the floor, mounting my cock so that she could fuck me. I remember well her expression as she eased herself onto my cock, the way her breathing changed, and how a little charge of energy ran over her body. She pulled my hands onto her nipples, urging me to squeeze them as she rocked her hips, frotting her clit against my pubic bone. I really wanted to make this moment last so was backing off fucking her so that I could hold out. But Saskia saw what I was doing and was having none of it. She took over the rhythm of our fucking, breathing hard and calling out in Dutch. I felt like she was using me as fuck toy, almost as if she was masturbating herself against my body. It felt deliciously dirty to be used in this way; the only other girl I had slept with was, like me, a virgin when we first had sex, so our lovemaking was very tentative and slightly stifled.

My previous girlfriend was also paranoid about getting pregnant so insisted I used a condom. Saskia on the other hand was perfectly happy for me to fuck her bareback, and the extra sensation of fucking condom free for the first time was tipping me over the edge.

I felt it appropriate to tell Saskia that I was likely to come, allowing her the opportunity to direct my jet in a way that she felt appropriate. So as she fucked me I called out between thrusts, "I'm... coming..."

This upped the frantic pace of her fucking; I felt her pussy pulse as an intense orgasm ripped through her body. She covered my hands with hers, pushing down hard on my fingers and thumbs so that her nipples were squashed firmly between us.

We reached climax a the same time, my near-virgin cock shooting huge spurts of cum into her. She was writhing and shuddering as the positive feedback loop of my orgasm increased the intensity of hers. I looked up, looking for safety and comfort in her eye as she rode every last drop of come out my cock.

I felt spent as her hips stopped rocking and she leaned down. I was expecting some tender French kissing, so was rather surprised when all I got was a gentle peck before Saskia dismounted me. I assumed, like my girlfriend, she'd rush off to the bathroom to clean herself up, but it appeared that my expectations were once again going to be dashed. Saskia went down on my pussy and cum slicked cock, lapping up the product of our lovemaking. In my post-orgasmic state, my cock was super sensitive, so her licking and sucking of my sensitive cock head sent shivers and spasms over my body. She worked from the tip of my cock down my shaft then over my balls, licking me clean of cum. A small rivulet of cum had dribbled between my testicle and left leg, which she followed, exploring the stream with her tongue until she lapped it all up.

When she finished she lay beside me and reached out to kiss me. I tasted pussy juice and come on her lips as she planted one feather light kiss on my lips before lying beside me.

This is easy to say with hindsight, but looking back, its clear that Saskia had a kinky side. It was only really now, on the beach, that it was starting to shine through.