Amsterdam, Netherlands
Friday 18th September 2015
Why did I have to pack up and leave my life in the UK?
I worked hard, but in the end, only Annette, my wife, was enjoying the money I earned. She had a busy social life, and the more effort I put into earning, the less I was involved with her. As our marriage reached its fifth year, our sex life had reached rock-bottom, or more correctly, it had all but ended.
Perhaps I ought to clarify that point. My sex life had ended, but I had a suspicion that my wife’s was okay. Having twice forgiven her for having affairs in the past, I had an ongoing sense that she was playing the frustrated housewife card again. Annette was in her mid-thirties like me, and she was attractive. Far too late in our marriage, I realised how badly I’d read our situation.
As things turned out, I played right into her hands because she got what she must have been aiming for—on her own terms too.
While Annette was out galavanting with friends one evening, I was at home alone after working late. I’d gotten into the habit of having a few drinks on those evenings, but that didn’t solve the issue of my growing sexual frustration. On a whim, to see if such a thing might affect me in some way, I went through my wife’s undies drawer and selected a pair of panties. By the time I’d lifted out a few items, sensing the texture and the look of the sexy stuff, I was aroused.
I knew I’d have to do it again. Sure enough, whenever I was in a similar situation and had a few drinks, I was back among her sexy lingerie. I was looking for something to give me an extraordinary buzz. I chose lace panties, and wearing the delicate garment gave me a thrill which helped me get off. I have to accept that I would have continued with my secret kinky pastime if I hadn’t made a mistake one night.
I drank almost a bottle of wine, borrowed some sexy undies and watched porn on the television as my excitement increased. I dealt with my frustration and my aching cock. There was nothing too dangerous in any of those things if I kept my wits about me, but I was inebriated and tired.
Annette arrived home and didn’t wake me until she’d taken some compromising pictures with her phone. When she blackmailed me by asking for even more money to squander, I refused. She posted photos of me en femme on social media. I had no doubt that she’d have done something just as despicable if I’d given her more money.
In the end, she manipulated the situation to her advantage and filed for a quickie divorce. She cited me as a pervert and said that I could not satisfy her and fulfil my marital duties. Annette wound our friends around her finger, and by the time we were settling up, I’d lost everything. Fortunately, knowing how cash trickled through her fingers, I’d squirrelled away money into an account in a different bank to our regular account.
My first option, I thought, would be to move to another town in the UK, but while I was trying to come to terms with things, something occurred to me. If I was starting over and alone, I’d be able to continue with my new, not-so-secret hobby. As I got used to the idea of starting again, another idea followed the first.
Why not leave the UK and live in a place which has a more tolerant attitude?
* * *
I had arrived in Amsterdam on Wednesday, 1st July, having pre-booked accommodation for an initial short stay. My worldly possessions consisted of what I was wearing, plus my laptop, an overnight bag and a suitcase full of clothes. I was travelling with my entire world.
My world still strangely included my job. Danny, my boss, didn’t like how my wife had acted and also told me that what had happened didn’t lower me in his opinion. He said how sorry he was about me leaving the country, but also told me he’d be happy to keep me on the payroll. As he reminded me, I could work from anywhere, which seemed appropriate because I designed graphics for use on the internet after all.
When I arrived at the apartment and met Stefanie, my landlady, I was shocked, but in a good way. ‘Mature’ and ‘stunning’ were the first two words that came to mind. Apart from being greeted by her, the apartment was compact but ideal for my purposes. I figured I would settle in quickly.
I thought all I had to do was buy myself a selection of sexy ladies lingerie. At least until I had a girlfriend, I’d have fun dealing with my sexual urges, and I could explore what appealed to me the most. It also occurred to me that there was a rather famous red-light district in the city.
Once again, I misjudged things. After a couple of failed attempts at buying ladies underwear, I opted for trying to do it after a few drinks—‘Dutch Courage’ seemed appropriate. I was successful eventually, but it was more to do with a recent acquaintance I’d made.
Cindy worked a few shifts in a cafe not far from my flat, and she served me a coffee on my early visits there. She happened to be shopping in the city, and caught me perusing the lingerie section of a department store. Being astute, she could see that I’d had a few drinks and was having difficulty with my shopping choices. When I tried to explain that I was buying sexy garments as a gift, I failed to convince her, and she led me to the nearest bar. I bought the drinks, and Cindy made me feel relaxed enough to open up to her. I thought I was lucky to have her help with my peculiar shopping trip, and all it might do was strengthen our friendship.
It took a couple of visits to my apartment to ‘guide’ me with my crossdressing before I discovered something about Cindy. My new, sexy, slim, auburn-haired friend had a similar package to mine in her underwear. Cindy was a T-girl. When she thought the time was right, a few days later, she introduced me to her cock, and slipped it into my mouth.
Cindy told me that she had a friend I ought to meet—a girl with a fuller figure who would also help me regarding other clothing besides underwear.
When I first met Portia, I gazed longingly at her. She had long blonde hair, a lovely face, a fantastic body and great legs. Apart from all of that, she had a husky voice and exuded a sense of power. A faint smile, a raised eyebrow and she had me doing her bidding without much effort.
Yes, the beautiful big girl was also harbouring a bit extra in her frilly panties—Portia was a T-girl too. And, yes, within a couple of days of meeting her, I had her dick in my mouth.
* * *
After a couple of weeks, I was beginning to settle and appreciate that things were moving a bit faster than I had imagined. It was a magical experience when I had both Cindy and Portia in my bed, but things were not to end there—not by a long way.
One morning, I felt relaxed and wanted to play dress-up. I had my all-over shave, did my makeup and hair and slipped into a lovely summer dress with sexy underwear and heels.
Stefanie had told me that at the end of the month, an engineer might turn up to take a meter reading, but I forgot, so when I heard the door buzzer, I ignored it.
Not to be outdone, the man located the landlady regarding access. Stefanie duly arrived with the engineer, so when I heard my door being unlocked, I dashed, sort of, in my heels out to my balcony. I stood out there until I listened to the door closing. I thought I’d had a close call until I got inside.
A small note on my keyboard suggested that I walk to the local park and sit on a bench. The message was from Stefanie, and it also said that I should remain dressed as I was.
She introduced herself to me, pointedly giving me the chance to provide my alter-ego’s name. I said I was Marianne. Stefanie was pleased to see that I recognised my situation, and she put me at ease—eventually. While we sat on the bench chatting, she also made it clear that I’d receive an invite to her apartment, and I was left with no doubt that it was more of a command than an invitation.
* * *
It was mid-August when Danny, my boss, arrived from the UK on a weekend business trip. He’d been booked into a hotel for one night, and if he stayed longer, he’d be expected to find his own accommodation. When I’d received his email telling me about the visit, I was happy to repay his kindness to me. I offered my sofa for an overnight stay if he was happy to use it.
As it all turned out, we spent a day together, seeing sights, enjoying a few drinks and a couple of meals. All day, I’d been dressed as Martin, the man that Danny had known for a few years. It was only after some wine in my apartment that our casual conversation turned to relationships. Danny openly admitted that he hadn’t had a girlfriend for a while and that he’d been with a guy several months earlier. It was an unexpected revelation for me, but it caused me to risk our friendship.
I left him with my TV remote and a particular website listed in My Favourites. While he was sitting, open-mouthed, watching porn, I left the room. I spent a while transforming myself, including the preparation of my most intimate place.
I introduced a startled Danny to Marianne, and we didn’t need the porn channel to take things any further. I’d assumed that he was bisexual and was attracted to both men and women. I discovered that he could only perform with another man if the person was presenting as a woman.
When he left Amsterdam the next day, I arranged for Cindy and Portia to be at the station so that I could introduce them. Danny was overwhelmed and assured me that he’d come back to visit.
* * *
When the time came for my date with Stefanie, the mature beauty, I sat in her plush house, enjoying her wine and appearance. She oozed sexiness and the notion that when she suggested something, it was to happen. After a few drinks, she introduced me to a simple quiz she’d created. Numbers represented sexual acts—or, more correctly, activities I’d like to be involved in with Stefanie.
I was under her spell from the first time I set eyes on her, so in the intimacy of her apartment, I had to partially strip. While she lay on the sofa, I was told to fuck her nylon-clad thighs and shoot my load over her statuesque body. Of course, the removal of my cum was done with my tongue.
Stefanie assured me that there would be much more in store for me if I was obedient.
I got the impression from the way that she talked that more would be expected. It would be dependent on how far I would go regarding pleasure, and importantly, Stefanie’s satisfaction. She was very much in control.
All of my experiences at that point had occurred by the end of August. It was only my second month in Amsterdam, and I had entered a world I had only fantasised about. Whatever lay ahead, I would be expected to pay the price in exchange for involvement in activities with anyone.
I questioned myself after visiting Stefanie and thinking about what I’d done with the others.
How far would I be prepared to go with this lifestyle?
***
Katya Cumming Erotica 