One Night in Amsterdam

So I took another little trip back to Amsterdam over the last weekend. Left Braunschweig at 9:51 am on Saturday and arrived back in Braunschweig sometime around 8:30 pm on Sunday. One night in Amsterdam … most definitely worth the trip!

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again – because it bears repeating – if you’ve never been to Amsterdam, go!! Perhaps this is only my personal opinion, but that city is about as close to perfect as you can get … assuming you’re open enough with yourself to actually be ready to play with some vices. I recently saw this presentation that was posted over on Annika’s blog (it’s the one titled “Motivation!”) that was basically stating that you need to be able to break the rules and scare yourself if you want to have fun. I couldn’t agree more. So, for all of you out there that have been programmed by society to think that the sex and drugs that are so readily available in Amsterdam really should be avoided, take a chance and frighten yourself a bit. Once you go I am sure you’ll be thanking me for the advice…

As I said, I went back there myself over the weekend. I’ve been there once before and had a pretty good time – I learned quite a bit on that first trip that I would be able to use on this second trip. I also decided to take notes this time. I said that I was going to bring my laptop PC with me to write a blog entry while still in the effects of the city (and possibly the effects of some other substances) however decided that lugging my computer around (my notebook machine is actually rather large and heavy … it’s a desktop replacement rather than a notebook designed for portability…) would end up being too much of a bother. I decided to take a small notebook and a pencil. I now have 8 pages of notes…

The funny thing is that this posting isn’t going to cover any of that. You see, one note that I jotted down was that I really should post this experience in two separate postings – one that covers all the experiences that I was taking notes on and one that covers the time that I wasn’t taking notes. This posting is the latter of the two. You should soon see why I thought this idea was a good one…

How I actually got to the point in time where I abandoned my note taking (and even left my camera in the hotel) will be described in the other posting. This posting begins with my decision to head on over to the red light district…

**WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!!! Okay, you know how the drill works – I’m going to be speaking openly about a subject that many people believe should not be discussed openly – sex. Also, since this blog is “no holds barred”, I will not be pulling any punches. If you feel that there is even the slightest possibility that you might get offended by something you are about to read (and believe me, you will…) then please don’t read this posting! I would also like to ask anyone that is not mature enough to handle what I will be talking about to also please stop reading this post now. I would try to set up some kind of age verification system for these posts, but I’m not making any money off of this stuff and really don’t want to have to use any money to guarantee that I remain free to write what I want. I’m just going to write it and leave it up to the reader on whether or not they want to read it. Besides, if anyone is looking for sexually explicit material there are thousands of other sites they could visit for free that are far worse than this one… So, with all that being said, I needed to get some pussy…

So I decided that sleep was out of the question. I just couldn’t do it. Oh I tried, but after spending a couple hours lying in the bed talking to myself (Yeah, this was interesting … the shrooms were in full effect and I was lying there holding a conversation with myself that was getting periodically interrupted by me asking the question, “Who … the fuck … am I talking to?!?” – out loud, mind you… If only I could have recorded that extremely one sided conversation … I would actually be very interested in hearing what I was discussing with myself as I now remember very little – just that question that I kept repeating over and over…) I decided that I might as well get up and get myself some pussy. I was, after all, in Amsterdam…

I climbed out of bed and started taking inventory on what, exactly, I needed to bring with me for the upcoming adventure. The notebook and pencil were definitely out – I mean how awkward would that be? Besides, I was pretty much planning on being on my feet and walking most of the time anyway. I wouldn’t be able to take notes while I was walking around. For the times that I wasn’t walking, I was planning on being preoccupied with something else. No, there was no reason to bring the notebook.

I also figured that the camera was unneeded as I have a hell of a time trying to take night pictures with my camera – quite a few I took on the last trip didn’t come out so well. Not to mention that cameras weren’t very welcome where I was headed. So the camera can stay behind… I came to the conclusion that all I needed was to get dressed, grab my wallet, passport (you never know…), pipe and remaining weed then head on out. This is exactly what I did.

The bad part about this decision (and I wouldn’t even fully come to the realization about this until much later at the ‘wok and walk’ restaurant…) was that I did not take a shower or even put in my contacts. The shower thing was really no big deal (it’s not like I smelled bad or anything…) but my hair was a bit messed up from my attempt at sleep. If I wasn’t in such a rush to get out there and perhaps in a clearer state of mind, I most definitively would have donned the baseball cap that I brought. I was in a rush, however … and I was on shrooms…

The more interesting item that I forgot was my contacts. Funny thing is that I have always actually needed either glasses or contacts – mainly for my right eye only. My left eye has always been very near 20/20 vision; however I do have rather severe near-sightedness in my right eye. Always have … although I have only been wearing corrective lenses since I was something like 24 years old. You see, the Florida DMV wouldn’t renew my driver’s license unless I got glasses. I never had a problem with this in Michigan – I would always explain to them that it was only my right eye and they would give me the license renewal … Florida was different. I was forced to start wearing glasses there. I have since switched to contact lenses and am actually much happier with them. The only thing is that you need to wear them…

Anyway, back to the story… So I head on out to the red light district. Exactly where I was going was a complete unknown – I was just going. The streets (as is usually the case on a Saturday night in Amsterdam) were packed with people. I didn’t, however, let this distract me as I was on a mission. I did, however, seem to have amplified senses in a way and was able to make out comments from passers by that I usually wouldn’t have noticed. I remember as I was heading into the actual red light district this guy walking by me calling me a pervert. Perhaps I imagined that as he was actually walking out of the red light district which leads me to question what he was doing in there…? Maybe it was the shrooms… Later this night as I was once again heading back into the red light district I distinctly heard some guy say, “Now he knows exactly what he wants.” I thought he may have been talking about me as I was pretty sure that I had a rather goal oriented expression on my face at the time but who knows? He could have just been in the middle of some other conversation and I just heard those words. And remember, I was on shrooms, so that might also have a lot to do with it…

Distractions aside, I was here on a mission. I needed to get myself a lady. As many of you are most definitely aware, I’ve actually acquired quite a bit of experience in the red light districts over here in Europe. I was determined to put that experience to some good use this evening. I came across this extremely attractive young lady that was standing in one of the multitude of little rooms lit up in red light. I approached her to have a word…

Just let me go off on another side point here and explain to you the differences between the red light district in Braunschweig and the red light district in Amsterdam. First off, Amsterdam’s is much larger! The Braunschweig RLD is actually little more than this one street, one city block long, tucked out of site to the general public. The RLD in Amsterdam is a whole series of streets and alleyways mainly centered around two of the canals but extending throughout many parts of the city. The only separation that it has from the other parts of the city are these little cement posts that have lights in them that are green during the day and turn red at night. There is no attempt to hide this section of the city as this would actually be no more than an exercise in futility – the place is huge…

One result of this drastic difference in sizes is that, in Amsterdam, you can basically find whatever you’re looking for. You’re much more limited with selection in Braunschweig and actually finding a keeper (Bine, for example) is more of a game of luck. In Amsterdam however, you can pretty much find whatever you’re looking for. You want the innocent looking young schoolgirl type? – she’s there. You want the blonde, silicone filled, Barbi porn star? – she’s there. Looking for some S&M (chains, whips, chicks, dicks)? – it’s there. Heck, if you want the older, been around the block a few too many times woman I’m sure you could find a match. It’s most definitely a buyer’s market…

This lady that I was now discussing business with was my type. She was young, thin (but not too thin…) and looked to be the innocent girl gone wrong. I was very much attracted. The discussion we had was basically the standard discussion. I was trying to find out how much she was going to cost me while trying to get everything I wanted without spending too much. She was at work. This means that all she was interested in was the money and trying to get as much as she could from me. Now I’m not saying that because I was surprised by this – this is exactly what I was expecting. It was now time for me to put my experience to work.

An explanation is necessary here. There are certain things in this world that I happen to be extremely fond of. Number one on that list is pussy. I mean I love pussy. I love the way a well maintained pussy looks, feels, tastes and smells. You can call me a pervert if you want – I really don’t care. I know what I like and I know what I need in order to have a successful sexual experience. I need to be able to have very intimate contact with the woman’s genitalia. The thing is that this can become very expensive with a prostitute. It’s actually one of the two things that are often considered taboo. The truth of the matter is (assuming that you’re well groomed and present yourself well) that it is often times obtainable. Unfortunately it is an opportunity for many of the women to demand more money. There’s nothing quite as easy as taking advantage of a man who has just recently started making decisions with the wrong head…

I actually don’t really understand this. I mean sure, the women are only in this thing for the money, but why are they preventing customers from performing something that they, the prostitutes, might actually enjoy? I, for one, must say that I take quite a bit of pride in my skills. I’ve actually been complemented on my technique by a few women – and that was after the fact so there was really no reason for them to be lying. I do know that I have successfully brought women to orgasm on several occasions using nothing more than my mouth. What can I say? I’m a giver… I suppose the reluctance to allow this could be related to avoiding VD; but then why would they give in if the money actually gets paid? It’s most definitely all about the money.

So, back to the story… The woman tells me €50. Now I know that this is bullshit. Yeah, you can get serviced for €50; but I know that it won’t get me what I need. So I ask her exactly what I would be getting for €50 and am given the old “anything you want” lie. But I know this is a lie; I’ve been down this road before. I asked her directly if that would include 69 (no explanation needed, I’m assuming…) to which she agreed. Okay, cool. I pay the €50 and inform the woman that she could get more afterward if I thought the service was deserving of more. Seemed clear enough to me – if she worked well enough to deserve a tip I would most definitely give her one… Besides, she already agreed to the 69.

Now I don’t completely remember what exactly happened with this lady, but I definitely recall her asking for more money when I requested what I was told I would be getting – you know, the 69 … try to keep up now… It was then that I came right out and scolded her for lying straight to my face. She even tried to play it off like she didn’t know what 69 was even referring to. My response to this was something like, “Give me a break. I know what you do for a living. You know what you do for a living. If you honestly think that I believe you don’t know what 69 is than you really must think I’m stupid. You lied to me.” She just giggled about this a bit and continued to try to extract more money from me. I once again explained to her what the deal was with a tip but she was determined not to give in. Oh well, whatever, I figured I would try to enjoy the experience anyway.

After the blowjob, several positions of intercourse and a handjob later I realized that it wasn’t gonna happen. Now here’s another interesting thing about prostitutes that I don’t quite understand … they seem to get a bit upset if they aren’t able to get a guy to cum. I don’t know, maybe they take this as an insult to them; but it really isn’t their problem. They’ve already got their money. Once I realize that it ain’t happening, I’m usually pretty eager to get out of there. Hell, the lady should be happy about it – she can return back to the window and get more money from someone else. She’s already got my money so I should actually be the one getting upset. Maybe they’re upset that they weren’t able to do their job correctly or something? I don’t know. I will say this though – this situation wouldn’t come up nearly as much if they were honest to begin with…

That pretty much sums up the remaining time I spent with this first lady of the evening – it wasn’t going to happen, so I left. Oh well, there are plenty more to choose from…

I had two more experiences very close to that first one although the third girl was a bit interesting. We got to that inevitable point where I was attempting to do something that I apparently hadn’t yet paid for. This girl did the old “oh I didn’t know” routine and said something like, “Oh … You want to go down on me…?” Yeah, that’s right, act coy … how much is this going to cost me? €100 more… Whatever! I’m really really getting sick and tired of the fucking money game bullshit! So I give her €100 and, as an added bonus (I guess…?), treat her to some damn good cunnilingus. I got her to orgasm. She was unable to return the favor…

So whatever … I guess it just wasn’t my night. Time to head back to the hotel for the night – this journey took quite a bit longer than I expected…

So I’m walking down these alleyways through the RLD and it’s pretty damn crowded. All along the way women – behind panes of glass in little rooms all lit up in red – are constantly trying to get you to stop for a sample of their sweet meat. I was calling it a night though and really wasn’t interested. That is until…

I glance towards the left and spot this gorgeous little cutie wearing a baseball cap. I mean she looked good! So I walk on over to attempt to have a word or two with her. Now I need to mention that I was completely out of money at this time. I think I had something like €20 in my wallet and that wasn’t going to buy anything. I still felt compelled to go speak with this woman. She motioned for me to walk around to the door and opened it to let me in. But I didn’t go in – I didn’t have any money. Instead I just basically told her that I didn’t have any money on me but I could most definitely get some if she pointed me to a money machine. I asked her how much I should take out, €50? Her reply was that this was the correct figure and that a money machine was just down the alleyway I was walking, across both canals and to the right. Now you and I both know that this is actually NOT the correct figure, but I liked this girl. I told her that I would be seeing her later and began the journey to find a money machine (sound familiar…?)

I did an awful lot of walking but didn’t see any damn money machine. At this café where a bunch of people were eating outside on the patio I basically stopped near the center and said, “Excuse me. Does anybody know where I can find a money machine?” Everybody just ignored me like I wasn’t there (well except for this one lady that said something like, “must be an American”). As I was walking away, I approached this lady that was walking in my direction and asked the same question. She just looked at me like I was nuts and kept on walking – didn’t say a word… I mean come on … what’s with that!?

Oh well, screw it, I think I need to start backtracking a bit. So I turn around and start retracing my steps. I soon notice this coffeehouse that only has two guys sitting in it (one was the bartender and the other was a guy at the bar…). I walk in and ask where the money machine is. The guy sitting at the bar starts cracking up and the bartender walks me out to the door and points to where the money machine can be found. Excellent!! I head to the money machine, withdraw €250, put €150 in my cigarette pack and the other €100 in my wallet then head back to the coffeehouse that was nice enough to point the way for a coke and some weed.

So the dude that was sitting at the bar earlier walks over and sits at the table with me. He was definitely an interesting character. I didn’t find out until later that he was trying to proposition me for sex. When I finally figured it out I had to tell him that I just wasn’t programmed that way. I was way too attracted to the female form and there is just absolutely nothing on a man’s body that does anything more than repulse me. He sure was persistent though … he just wouldn’t give up. Funny thing is, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened to me. I just don’t get it. What is it that these homosexuals see in me that women don’t? I need to find that out…

I basically just finished my coke and headed back out to go find the girl in the baseball cap again. I started to retrace my steps. Up the first street, a left at the first alleyway, walk down to the first canal, cross over it, continue walking to the second canal, cross this one as well, walk on to the first major street then continue on the other side. This, I was pretty sure, was the alley where she was. I walk down it and find the girl in the baseball cap just as she was letting in a customer and pulling the curtains closed. Damn! Oh well, how long can he be? I decide to just go for a bit of a walk and return in a little while. This I do.

When I returned, the curtain was still shut. I took another walk. A couple walks later and I notice that she’s opening her curtain again. I quickly make a bee-line straight toward her window and get asked in.

She actually remembered me from earlier (it was actually a couple hours since then … at least…) and, in some way at least, appeared to be happy to see me again. I walk in and tell her that I know she said €50 earlier but that I was more than aware that this is just foot in the door money. I then proceed to tell her that I am going to give her €100 and asked what that would get me. She said anything I wanted and told me that she was so glad that I wasn’t trying to low-ball her by expecting everything for €50. Apparently that happens quite a bit. I’m beginning to understand exactly how these girls can so easily become callous in this environment… But things were cool, we made a bit of a connection there. I was being honest with her and I think she appreciated it – now let’s see how honest she wants to be with me…

I then explain to her that I’m an old man and the one thing that I really need right about now is honesty. I asked her whether, if we were to have met someplace else (a bar, the supermarket, wherever…) would she even consider going on a date with me. She said, “No.” Cool… She got herself a customer.

Oh yeah, and why I was talking with her in her room, the curtain was still open. I remember this one asshole tapping on her window and telling her to shake her ass – right when I was standing there talking to her. What an asshole! Man, these poor girls go through a lot of shit…

She asked me to close the curtain and I did. She then asked if I smoked and gave me a cigarette. How cool was that? I mean here we were about to have sex that I had just purchased and we sat down and had a cigarette and a little talk beforehand. This chic is cool. And the sex…

She didn’t pull any punches. After I got undressed and laid on the bed she came over and began the blowjob on her hands and knees with her sweet little ass up in the air just to the right of my head. It wasn’t long until she climbed on top of me for some 69. She didn’t ask for any more money and I was free to explore her sweet little 25 year old body as much as I wanted. And get this … she even kissed me on the lips a couple of times. Now this is the biggest taboo in this industry – no matter what, you never let the Johns kiss you mouth-to-mouth. I guess it’s just too personal … but the girl in the baseball cap was kissing me. This, my friends, was some good sex. I really don’t know how long I was with her but I know I heard the door of the next room open and close at least three times; but it didn’t matter – the girl in the baseball cap (well, the cap was gone now) seemed to be having a good time. Not once did she make any reference to the time nor ask me for any more money. She also finally got me off and I even gave her an extra €10 for the effort – she was shocked by this… I’m most definitely seeing her again next month!

I left and started walking back to the hotel but decided to pop into this place called “wok and walk” where I ate this rather good pork and pineapple wok dish. It was here that I noticed that I couldn’t see anything with my right eye and figured out that I had forgotten to put in my contacts. Oh well, no harm no foul…

Money spent on the trip – something like €500. Was it worth it? To meet the girl in the baseball cap (man, I wish I remembered her name…), hell yeah!

bis später,

Coriolis