There’s no ‘one SeXperience’ in Amsterdam’s red light districts (or anywhere else, actually). During my first visit to De Wallen I saw just three girls. It did the job. Fifteen minutes of sex action with each of three girls who I would have been quite happy to meet in a bar or a club and take home with me. After that, having found my feet so to speak, the body count on each twenty-four hour visit escalated dramatically. Variety is my spice of life. Each girl is fundamentally different, by definition. Each encounter is deliciously fresh.
But pretty soon I wanted something more intimate than the fifteen minute standard, somewhat mechanistic transaction: ten minutes of fellatio and penetrative sex, after taking into account undressing and dressing time. That wasn’t so easy to come by.
‘What does twice the standard rate buy?’
‘More time.’
Umm. Not quite what I was looking for.
Eventually, I figured how to modify ‘More time’, and mechanistic sex (still quite nice) transmogrified into real girlfriend sex in some cases. And that’s fine.
Very fine! But I’ll admit, I do like prolonged periods of erotic sex. And is that on the table? Well ……, it can be, and not (here’s the good news) for a distorted price – and not just in Amsterdam. Some of my most erotic encounters have been in London’s Soho. But you can’t walk in off the street in either place and take it as a given. Sorry, but you do have to work at it.
What makes a sexual encounter erotic? It means different things to different people, I‘m afraid. For example, I had a young guy, a law student, contact me. He said that my blog had ‘given him permission’ to engage with prostitutes. I think he meant ‘opened his eyes’ to the fact that a man could buy sex without feeling guilt (see Readers’ Comments). After a few email exchanges, he confided that cunnilingus held absolutely no erotic value for him. He simply didn’t get it. He was, however, super-turned on when a girl wore garments which were sparkly! Another guy, happily married, confessed that although his wife would perform fellatio, she refused to let him perform cunnilingus (maybe denial was her erotic pleasure). He was going crazy! Until he read the diaries and realised what was possible – and then acted on it.
I’ll admit that for me orally stimulating a girl’s genitals is an important part of erotic pleasure, along with other seriously intimate physical interactions. She must have to have a face and body which qualify as Objet d’Art, though. These interactions play out alongside girls posing, girls presenting themselves while being played with, seductive stripping, being stripped, up-skirting, masks, mirrors, role play, games, zwei mädchen, photography, costumes, uniforms, props, restraint (organic and physical), talking (yes talking!), directing a porn movie (no camera involved), intense eye contact as the flood gates open, and so on. Think of these, and more, as colours on an artist’s pallet. Think of the way that the artist mixes the colours and creates depth and mood and light and shade, and so on. That’s how erotic play plays out for me.
Let’s go to the girl in the photo. She’s kneeling on the bed, very close to the corner of the room. Trapped. Consensually caged. Wrists bound with a black silk necktie. Oh, yeah, she’s wearing a mask.
Waiting.
Looking back, maybe I should have tied her wrists together in front of her. But that would have compromised the photograph! Oh, this is so difficult!
I tell the girls that if at any point they feel uncomfortable with the way that things are unfolding there is a magic word that they can use: ‘Stop.’ If she uses it, we’ll simply stop and re-focus. One thing we can be sure of, it’s never about hurting her or humiliating her, and it’s always about trying to give her physical pleasure, the more unexpected it is the more erotic the moment. You can assume that I’m looking to get my share of erotic pleasure, of course, both mental and physical. Incidentally, the word ‘stop’ has never been used.
A while ago I was in a situation with a girl who was lying on her back, her wrists tied to her ankles with black silk neckties, her legs apart (Soho, London, actually). I explained what I wanted to do. Despite being restrained, she jumped at it. It’s just as well that the silk ties were there to slow her down. And then we engaged in a seriously naughty sex fantasy.
What exactly?
Well, that would be telling, wouldn’t it?
Yeah, okay, I tell it in Nineteen. Which also includes an Amsterdam zwei mädchen encounter, an Amsterdam girl who traded kisses for intensely pleasurable hot touches, and a new girl in Soho who sat on a chair for me (really!!). And more, in case you’re interested in the art of the possible as well as erotic art.
More recently, I asked a girl if she felt objectified (quite different to Objet d’Art), for example, when she was asked to bend over, her face resting on the mattress, her naked bottom high, her knees apart, so that a client could enjoy looking at her and touching her and playing with her in a myriad of ways before putting part of his body inside hers.
‘No! I love it,’ she said. ‘It’s so erotic.’
When you think about it, it makes sense; Mother Nature, bless her, clearly knew what she was doing when she hard-wired men and women.
Update
I’m in the process of writing up a diary entry. It takes a while. This one involves a twenty-six year old girl. She’s about 5’ 3” (1.6m) in bare feet, slim but with a very feminine shape: tight waist and perfectly proportioned breasts and bottom. She follows the artists’ 2/3 rule. One third is waist to the top of her head, two thirds waist to feet. She has dark brown hair and today she’s wearing red lipstick and matching high heels – but she still can’t look me in the eye. I’ve decided that the game will involve her wearing my shirt.
It’s sky-blue and 100% cotton. The weave is a little coarse. When she puts it on, it fits her perfectly; it looks like a mini dress. Her natural, firm breasts swell the front and are a little exposed because the top three buttons are undone. The hem sits just below a seriously feminine, bare bottom. The only modification to the costume are the rolled back cuffs on the sleeves.
She’s standing in front of a full length wall mirror, admiring her new costume and after a few moments she turns her head slightly to the right in order to engage with my reflection, and then she asks a couple of questions.
‘Should I wear panties?’
And:
‘Am I your secretary?’
I doubt that the full diary entry will ever be published.
Artist’s Note
A couple of days after publishing this blog post I came across a newspaper article about a book being written by a famous actress, although I guess we can’t be absolutely sure about that in this era of The Ghost Writer. The theme is women and sex and getting to the bottom of it. She’s issued a public invitation to women from around the world to share their sexual fantasies with her in the form of a letter, with a view to possible inclusion in the book. Why? Well, it appears that women aren’t allowed to have sexual fantasies and someone has to be courageous enough to take the lid off and give them agency.
The good news is that the book will give permission to everyone, in this era of inclusiveness, to enjoy erotic encounters and erotic thoughts without fear.
The Amsterdam Diaries 