» Fellow traveler - read the free sex story.

What is it like to travel by train in Netherlands? And what if your co-traveler is a pretty female babe who is willing to please the horny tourist? How is it to have a nice fuck in Netherlands? Those babes surely know how to please a man.

Long beautiful train was standing at the station of a marvelous Dutch city of Maastricht. Men in expensive suits, business-like looking women, some students, and all other different people like myself were getting in it.

I wasn’t in a hurry. I knew the train would leave on time. A long car for non-smokers, blue plush and grey plastic. Cozy and clean. It was great to have a day out when everyone else was in the middle of a working week.

People were smiling and polite. I saw everything there through rose-colored spectacles. I knew it wasn’t that bright and glamorous in reality. But that moment I seemed to be in a paradise or something. The sun was shining brightly but not scorching. People were kind, not depressed or anxious.

I was surprised to find many people in the car. My dreams to find a quiet nook all were not made to be realized. All compartments for two were busy; there were no seats even in those for four. Searching for a seat I reached the farthest end of the car. Surprise! An attractive young Dutch girl was sitting all alone among three other empty seats.

Do you know what the Dutch look like? They’re something! Both men and women are tall blondes with blue eyes and skin of ripe rye. Don’t think that all blondes in the world are the same! It’s not so. Their faces are not that regular as those of the German and not that round as those of the Slavs. Their eyes are of deep blue color with a light grey shade making them not that radiantly bright. Men are usually tall and have strong build, as for women they are tall too and have very feminine figures with large breasts and hips.

Such an ideal Dutch girl was sitting right in front of me that moment. I threw my pack on the seat near her bags. I fling myself right beside the pretty girl. Damn, she was wonderful! She smiled at me moving aside. She was holding lots of books and notes in her hands – she was apparently a student and was somewhere in the middle of passing her exams. Sorry, babe, you won’t study in the train this time!

-Do you also speak English? – I asked her informally.

-Yes, but why also?

-Well, it’s just that whoever you ask here if he or she speaks English he does. Sometimes people also know German or French!
What do you need your own language then? Are you Dutch?

-Yes, of course.

Sure, her appearance told me much more than her words. She had a thin waist, long legs, terrific boobs that Marilyn Monroe would be envious of! She had a kind face, a sincere smile. She was all very genuine and natural. I think I could be looking at her forever. Cleavage of her blouse attracted immediate attention. It was surely not very polite to look THERE. But I couldn’t help! I wanted to be a gentleman and to be frank and honest. So, I was staring at her breasts standing on no ceremonies. I saw it flattered her and made her blush as well.

-You seem to be interested in this issue, - she asked breaking the silence.

-Oh, sure, I’m a language expert. It’s a phenomenon to some extent.

-Yeah, I agree with you. But the language is sort of artificial, we created it. The thing is that many years ago our government adopted a program of benevolent and hospitable nation. The program was supported by the population. The main point was to make every tourist feel easy and comfortable in the country. That’s why it was recommended for local people to speak main European languages. The program is still on.

I love the Dutch! They teach English since the fist grade at all schools. They study authentic literature and watch authentic films. As a result, you can talk to any person in the street and he will tell you in very good English how to find this or that place.

-Tourism is the second industry that brings the largest income in the country, - my fellow traveler continued.

-Now I see. I’m very happy for you. By the way, I’m from America. What’s your name?

-Marianne.

Great, Marianne. It’s no difficult to pronounce, that’s good news for me! Her eyes told me she was intrigued. We were talking about life “here” and life “there” (back in States). It turned out she had never been in the US, so first hand information was very interesting for her. Sort of revelation, you know.

I never forgot glancing at her boobs under a tight blue blouse with a collar. Why did you undo the upper button at all?! It became even more difficult for her tight blouse to hold the breasts inside. Her velvet jeans were also tight, covering her beautiful long legs and round hips. I wanted to touch them.

When you are in a foreign land don’t you want to try local girls? This was my idée fixe during the stay in Maastricht. According to a widespread opinion, Dutch women are much emancipated; they have nothing against one night stands. It’s pretty tough to have long and serious relationships here. Guess, it was time to check if those rumors were just rumors or not… I started talking about the thing that was most exciting for me.

-Is it true that the sexual revolution of 1960s started here in Holland? And that as a result of the revolution, people stand for free relationships here…? (Well, I was a bit exaggerating, that’s true!)
-No, not exactly, - Marianne laughed, - the first demos started in Denmark. But it is really true that Holland was the first country to make men and women equal in all rights. Holland was among the first to treat sex and all its “whims” – homosexuals, lesbians, sado-masochists, fetishists, etc - normally, - she explained. - As for free relationships, they are just the same as anywhere else.

I loved to talk to her! She could speak on any topic, no question was embarrassing or whatever for her… I, being a man who began such a provocative conversation, didn’t offend her “dignity” and bla-bla-bla. I wondered how old she was. She looked young; she had good fresh skin, great young body. But that was the trick. She could be both 19 and 29, it was difficult to guess.

-So, you’re a student? – I pointed at her books.

-Yes, I study at the university.

-Right after school?

-No, I spent two years studying medicine, I wanted to be a nurse.

-You look very young, I would say you’re still a school girl!

-Well, thank you, but I’m already 24 now.

You got it! It was just the way I expected everything to be. She was an under graduate student.

-Where do you study?

-In Rotterdam.

-Oh, I know this town! But this train goes from Maastricht to Amsterdam, and Rotterdam is to the other side…

-I was at my relatives’ in Brussels and now I’m going home to Utrecht. And you?

-I’m going to Amsterdam on excursion. I’ve been here for two months now but still haven’t seen the capital yet, - I said.

We were passing by Eindhoven. It was an ideal European town of modern days. It was a hive of business, highways and skyscrapers. While we were passing it by, Marianne was commenting on the view. I tried to get closer to the window to lean on her shoulder and her breast. It was great. She was looking into my eyes, smiling slyly. It’s good for me no one can see us. People in another compartment were all sleepy. I was about to touch her lips with mine. She was neither resistant, nor inviting me to do it. I saw she was surprised. Maybe she thought I was a terrible bastard doing the things I was actually doing.

Her face was turned back to the window again. My hand was resting on her knee, sometimes I could reach the hip, patting it. My other hand was on its way to her tit. My fingers found her nipple easily. It was hard. It was such pleasure to touch it through the blouse. I don’t know for how long we were doing it in silence. But suddenly Marianne turned to me, hugging. Now it was all real. Our lips found each other in a vehement kiss. My hands were unzipping her jeans and getting under her blouse again. God, what pleasant sensations! Her gorgeous breasts! I was feeling them up carefully and gently, squeezing and then letting them go, never forgetting to pinch her nipples with my fingers. My hand slipped inside her panties. It was all trimmed and wet there.

The train arrived in Arnhem. We had to pause, people were getting on the train. It’s great no one entered our compartment. Now no one could disturb us all the way to Utrecht.

No words. We pressed each other even closer. It was clear I was aroused. Her heavy breathing, tight embraces and shiver of my touch let me know she also wanted me. Her blouse was raised up to her neck, I could see her boobs. Now and then I stopped caressing her to lean against the chair and admire her. Her nipples were at her elbow level. Should I have asked her about her height?

I felt that my hand in her panties made her really hot. We both wanted to proceed to something else. The WC was no good, it was too close there, and people would be knocking. Marianne found the solution. She pressed her hands on the window and showed me her butt. I helped her with the jeans and panties. Now they were pulled down to her knees. My fly was open. I entered her vagina, pressing my hips against her buttocks. My hand roamed her body and finally found her breast. We were thrusting often but slow in order not to give us away. My T-shirt covered my naked butt. So if somebody looked at us that moment we could be taken for a couple absorbed in taking in the landscape out the window. If somebody just glanced at us, of course.

I never stopped ramming into her. Her breasts were slapping against the window. Sometimes she was pressed against the glass pane so hard that I thought she would crack or break it. Old guys in the compartment next to us were still sleeping.

I could touch her milky-white neck, her aromatic hair, he swaying knockers. I could touch all the places that no every one had full access to. I took the advantage of the moment. She was breathing heavily. I saw her bite her lip. I was screwing her mercilessly. The train was shaking, we were shaking too. As the amplitude of my thrusts was short, I couldn’t cum. Unlike me, Marianne seemed to be on the verge of bliss. All of a sudden she began moaning loudly. I let her do it. But in a couple of minutes I realized something was wrong.

I craned my neck to look into her face. Wow! She seemed to have lost consciousness. Her eyes were closed, she was moaning, almost crying. Go girl! I closed her mouth with my hand. She recovered consciousness at once. I wished I could do all the things I wanted to do to her there, but it was too close and uncomfortable.

I wonder what you girls could do in Europe. Blow job would suit me perfectly. I guess you knew a thing or two about it. What else could we do? She wouldn’t let me fuck her ass, that’s for sure.
Marianne came crying loudly. She kissed my lips in gratitude. OK, but what was I to do?

-Don’t stop, - she whispered, - I can do a lot.

OK, as you wish, babe. Another thought was drilling my brain: “What if butt-fucking?” Anyway, that was all I could do in my position. Her stop was close, very close. I thought I could try. I took my dick out of her gushing bosom and lubricated her anus with her own juices. I used my finger to do it. Marianne was standing still – making up her mind. I was taking my time, letting her contemplate over the situation. She wasn’t moving but for her tits swaying in the train’s tempo. She didn’t say a word. It filled me with hope so I pressed my cock against her asshole. “Don’t hurry up,” she whispered. It was difficult for me to control my feelings and desires and stop myself from entering her Dutch ass.

Finally I was all in there. We were swaying again. But this time it was tighter and more interesting for me. As soon as I put my finger on her love button she trembled in the wave of her second orgasm. I was on the verge of cumming as well. The train was already in Utrecht’s outskirts. She whispered for me to hurry. I had nothing against it, but… I didn’t give a damn about the rest of the train and the things they could hear and began drilling her at full tempo.

Marianne was about to cry out loudly. The outer world disappeared for us. There were only two of us left, just my pecker and her butt. I came finally. Spurts of semen filled her anus. I felt her convulsions – it was her third time to cum. We were just in time. I don’t know why but she told me “merci”.

-You’re welcome.

I kissed her lips gently. She took out tissues from her bag. That was all. Right in time. People were getting off the train.

-What about your phone number or address? No? Right, just a sexual adventure in a train. You’re right it’s no good reason for meeting. Maybe I can help you with your bags?! Your boyfriend? He’s seeing you in?! Well, good luck then.

I was looking at her on the platform. Her boyfriend was very nice. He was a tall tidy guy with blonde. He seemed to be so disgustingly correct! He looked like a volleyball player. They were kissing, bill and coo. My Dutch babe wouldn’t you be bored with him? I’m sure you’ve already planned your whole life. You just look at him – he’s a grade-grubler with all his life planned and weary. You should cheat on him more often!

Good bye Utrecht, bye Marianne with big boobs. Though I couldn’t try your mouth in action, I will remember you. Be happy!

The train started. Amsterdam was waiting for me. Amsterdam with its streets-canals, Madame Tussaud’s Wax museum, diamond factory, Red Light district. It was time for me to hit the WC.

Related Stories:

• No related posts.

Leave a Reply