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A Dutch Comfort (Let the lady choose!)

Three is company ... with one left out!
He was visiting Ingrid, and as always his longing for her almost constricted his throat. He was not an Adonis, but not ugly either, and he had never had much trouble to find women to make love with.

But Ingrid was quite a different proposition. She was a beautiful blonde woman of 34 years. She had an attractive, somewhat mischievous face, shining blue eyes, soft rosy cheeks with nice dimples in them when she smiled, and an expressive mouth with lovely full lips. She wore her hair pinned up high, leaving her slender neck free. She had an gorgeous figure, somewhat full and yet slender at the same time: well-developed full breasts, a narrow waist with wide hips underneath (but not too wide), long legs with full, firm thighs, shapely calves and slender ankles.

She wore blue that night: a blue blouse, a somewhat tight blue skirt that showed her enticing buttocks and thighs well, and blue nylon stockings underneath. And though she was tall for a woman, she wore blue shoes with high stiletto heels that accentuated the beauty of her gorgeous legs even more.

He felt the desire not only in his groin, but also in his belly, his chest and his throat: a tingling feeling in his skin that was only temporarily assuaged when he masturbated, yet he would never feel really relieved. Only the touch of her flesh against his could cure him of that desperate longing that sometimes made him think of a disease.

Yet he didn’t have the nerve to approach her. She wasn’t prudish, he knew she had several lovers to satisfy her sexual desires, but she would not give up her independence for any man. And she wasn’t shy about that at all.

Then why was he so shy with her? He vaguely feared she wouldn’t find him attractive enough … but that might be only the fear of rejection. Besides, with other women he never felt so bowled over if one happened not to want him. He could always find someone else. So there was nothing to fear, was there? … But for some reason it was different with Ingrid.

He had made her acquaintance at a dancing school, and he dated her sometimes, or visited her at home. And then usually they danced a little, and he could press her supple body to his. But it had never gone any further than that: they might dance sensual tangos, a dance that’s sometimes called ‘sex with your clothes on’, but no more than that. Not even a kiss … let alone anything without their clothes on.

They had been chatting. About sex! And about men’s and women’s roles, and the advantages and disadvantages of casual sexual contacts. With a straight face he had been voicing very women-friendly opinions on that, but he had been as silent as the grave about his own feelings. However, he was thinking that now he should at last …

The bell rang. Ingrid walked to the front door (‘click, click’, her heels sounded on the stone floor in the corridor) and greeted the second visitor enthusiastically. It was Willem, another guy from the dancing school whom she also dated occasionally. Willem was a handsome, cheerful fellow with an athletic slender body and a naughty bad-boy smile with dark eyes and black curly hair; an easy, humorous talker with a rapid flux-de-bouche.

Ingrid used to call Willem a ‘true Amsterdammer’ (“een ras-Amsterdammer”), and she clearly meant that as a compliment. He always felt a bit uneasy when he saw Ingrid and Willem together, although he didn’t want to admit that to himself.

Willem sat down and the three of them went on chatting. Still about sex and relationships. Willem sometimes made a witty remark which made Ingrid laugh delightedly. He joined in the laughter, but cursed himself at the same time that he hadn’t thought of a joke like that.

Was he mistaken, or was there really something not quite definable growing in the room’s atmosphere? Ingrid’s cheeks were always somewhat rosy. Was her blush really deepening, or did he only imagine it? Were her shining eyes really shining even more?

He caught himself trying to see to whom Ingrid’s eyes turned more often: to Willem or to him? Was Willem really winning out on that point, or was that only his own fear?

And then Willem made the proposal that he hadn’t dared himself.

“Shall we do a little game of strip poker?” With a straight face, just like that, you know.

He half expected Willem would get a slap in his face. But Ingrid’s face showed only surprise when she looked at Willem.

“Strip poker? And then? You can’t make me believe you want to leave it at that. Besides, there are three of us. Jan, what do you think? Isn’t this too impudent to be acceptable?” But she said this with a smile, a little ironic, but not angry.

Now! Now he had to drop his restraint! “Seems fun to me too! But you’re probably right that Willem and I don’t want to leave it at that.”

“Exactly!” Willem added with a broad grin. Ingrid looked back reservedly.

“Well, no,” she said. “No way, and that’s that. I don’t want to make love to two men at the same time. I did have a threesome once, and I didn’t like that enough to do it again. And just teasing the two of you by undressing … no, I don’t want to do that either.”

“But then why don’t you pick one of us? Then only one man will remain unsatisfied, but otherwise all three of us!” Had he said that himself? What was coming over him?

(There was an itch in his groin that demanded he’d make happen whatever might happen.)

Now Ingrid’s blush really deepened.

“What are you saying? And the one I don’t choose? Before his very eyes …?”

“Yes!”, Willem said. “What if Jan and I both promise to you we will both accept your choice? If I can’t get you, I’d find it very exciting at least to see you, preferably in action! I promise you! Jan, please promise her as well!”

He nodded. What else could he do? He had been the one to propose it in the first place.

(And the itch in his groin urged: “Come on! Make it happen!”)

Ingrid was silent for a while and licked her lips (without noticing herself).

“This is awfully exciting for me, what you two are proposing now. You wouldn’t know it, but that’s one of my secret fantasies: having sex with someone, and then letting another man look on, who just aches with desire! I always found that a little bit to cruel to put it into practice, but if you propose it yourselves … But then you’ll have to promise something else as well: that the guy who’s left out, doesn’t masturbate either. And my choice is final! I won’t take the other one afterward either. That’s my fantasy. Maybe you find it cruel, but if you want to make our little game really exciting for me … Do you both promise?”

“OK”, he said hoarsely (the itch in his groin getting hotter and hotter, though he dreaded what might happen.)

“OK! We’ll both empty our balls only if you let us!”, Willem said.

“Oh, you’re both great! I’ve been dreaming of this for years! It’s really, really very sweet of you that you’re willing to do this for me! By the way, I don’t have any playing cards, but we could do something with dice as well. I hope you realize what risk you’re about to take. I’ll tell my choice at the end of the evening, so both of you will have to suffer a bit for some time. Let’s get started now!”


Half an hour later almost all clothing had been removed from their bodies, with a lot of laughter and erotic thrill, and now all three of them were naked. Only at Willem’s request Ingrid had kept her suspender belt on, and her nylon stockings and high-heeled shoes. She had smiled at that request.

“Does that excite you?” she said. “And you too? Well, OK!”

When she had made a move to loosen her pinned-up hair, he had asked her to keep it up.

“It’s such a lovely sight to see your smooth neck, and your ears!” She had also smiled warmly at this request and kept her hair pinned up high.

There they were sitting! Ingrid sat down on the three-seater like a Dutch Venus, her left leg drawn up under her body, half turned to Willem who also sat on the three-seater, about three feet away from her.

He himself sat on an armchair and thought his eyes would pop from his head. Oh what a gorgeous body. Her breasts were big and full, and yet hardly sagged. Her pert brown-red nipples were erect, and under those delightful breasts he saw her smooth belly. And underneath her belly, at the top of her thighs, a little tuft of blond hair. Because of the way she sat, her thighs were spread apart a little, and he could vaguely discern her labia, at least partly. He thought he saw some glistening moisture, but maybe he only imagined that.

Willem couldn’t keep his eyes off her either and had a huge erection. He himself was so excited that he thought his throbbing cock would burst.

Ingrid smiled at them as if she wanted to say: “Well, what do you gentlemen think of it?” He had a funny feeling: what now?

“Who’s your choice now”, Willem said with a hoarse voice.

“Easy, easy, gorgeous, don’t be in such a hurry!” Ingrid answered. “At the end of the evening I’ll tell you who my choice will be. It’s quarter past eleven now, so just be a little bit patient, both of you. But in the meantime we could play some more games.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

Willem had an idea. “With the stripping game we told each other to put off a piece of clothing. We might go on in the same way. If Ingrid wins, she can give an order to the guy who loses. And if you or I win, he can give an order to Ingrid.”

“So if I don’t win, I’ll lose anyway? Fine! I’m fond of losing games like that,” Ingrid said. “But only I am allowed to give orders to touch my body.”

“Can’t we make requests to touch you either?” he asked.

“Yes, but I may refuse. Maybe I’ll grant to the other guy what I refuse to the first. Then you’ll know who really wins. OK? But, whatever I allow you to do or not, doesn’t mean a thing about the choice I’ll make after midnight. That will keep up excitement for both of you!”

So they played on. The first time Ingrid won and he lost. She let him pour a glass of wine for her.

Then Willem won. He let Ingrid play with her breasts: she had to put her hands beneath them, and pinch and knead them lightly, while her fingers rhythmically rubbed her nipples. Her blush became deeper and she breathed a little bit more heavily, her eyes half closed.

Willem asked: “Can you get an orgasm if you go on like that?”

“Sometimes,” she sighed, “but I want to keep that for later now. OK, let go on!”

He won, and he asked Ingrid if he could kiss her legs.

“Yes, that’s allright.” (His heart jumped.) “But only the heels of my shoes!” And so he kissed and licked her high heels tenderly, but of course she wouldn’t feel that. He didn’t go any further, just as she had told him. With a longing sigh he sat down again.

Now she won, and Willem lost.

“Kiss my neck and my breasts,” she said. He felt a shock. Would she … but she had said clearly enough that her choices before midnight would not have anything to do with her final choice.

Willem kissed the side of her neck tenderly, under her ear; then his mouth went down to her breast; to her nipple, which now disappeared inside his mouth. Willem sucked her nipple slowly and Ingrid let him do as he pleased. Willem’s mouth moved to her other nipple, then upwards again over her other breast; her neck up to the ear, and finally Willem very softly bit her earlobe.

And then Willem withdrew. It didn’t escape his attention that Ingrid looked at Willem’s athletic body with pleasure. Willem looked back intensely.
They played on, and he won again.

“May I feed you a sip of wine from my mouth?” (His former lover had found that very erotic.)

“No”, she said. “Let’s see, that means that Willem must do it now. Come, Willem!”

Angrily and with a pounding heart he looked on how Willem gave her the tongue kiss that he had wanted to give her. A red drop of wine trickled downward along her neck, between her breasts, over her smooth belly.

“Wait, let me lick that up,” Willem said. Laughing breathlessly Ingrid tried to restrain him.

“No, don’t! I didn’t order you to do this. What’s this … Oh …”

The drop of wine had trickled into her crotch of all places, and Willem’s tongue went after it.

“Oh Willem … don’t do that please … oh Jesus … Now you must really stop! Stop! I mean it!”

Willem stopped. Ingrid looked at him in confusion and great erotic excitement.

“It’s not midnight yet, Willem, you’re in too much of a hurry! Really, you must wait and do nothing I haven’t told you to do. And wait if I choose you or not. That goes for you too, Jan.”

He nodded.

She won and he lost. She thought for a moment. He waited breathlessly what she would order him to do. The tingle of desire in his naked body was more intense than ever. Oh God, at least let me feel her body. Only that can soothe this ache. Oh Ingrid, what do you want now?

“Please put on some nice, slow dancing music for me!” she said with a sensual smile.

His heart jumped up again. Had she sensed his feelings? But now he finally could press her belly and thighs to his, and finally he would feel her stiff nipples to his pining chest. And then … everything was still possible, nothing had been decided yet.

He picked a CD with the slowest, stickiest music he could find and put it into the player. He turned to Ingrid …

… and saw how she took Willem by the hand and went to the middle with the room with him.

Ingrid danced with Willem, slowly, slowly, with her belly and thighs pressed to his and her nipples sticking into Willem’s sturdy chest. So they danced, five minutes, ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, their naked bodies touching closely.

Then they sat down again. Ingrid’s body had a rosy colour and she had a soft, yearning look in her eyes.

Then she spoke to him: “Jan, the dirty dishes are still in the kitchen. Would you be a darling and wash them up for me?”

He nodded. What game was she playing with him? He decided to let the itch in his groin take over, and wait and see that would happen. If he could contribute anything at all to her pleasure, he’d enjoy that. I don’t care how, even though I go nuts with desire, he said to himself while she went before him through the corridor to the kitchen (her heels clicking on the stone floor).

“Was it nice to dance like that?” he asked while he started doing the dishes.

“Nude, you mean? Yes, that’s delightful. Much more fun than the dishes! But I don’t want to saddle you alone with that.”

“Come on. Just amuse yourself. I’ll do the dishes. That CD wasn’t finished yet, you know?”

She looked at him for a moment and smiled. She opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t find the words she wanted to say.

He felt an almost uncontrollable desire to grab and kiss her wildly, but yet he restrained himself.

Ingrid turned around and left the kitchen. (Click, click, her heels ticked on the floor, her buttocks slightly swaying in the half-dark of the corridor). He looked after her. She opened the door to the living room and went in. He didn’t see her anymore.

He sighed and went on with the dishes. He heard Willem’s voice, then Ingrid’s. Then he heard music, and the shuffling of a dancing couple. The tingling in his loins was starting to smart.

… And then his wristwatch gave a little beep. Midnight! So late already? What would Ingrid and Willem be doing? He quickly finished the dishes, put everything in the cupboard and hurriedly went to the living room. Would he get Ingrid at last, at last now, or would he have to go on with his seed burning in his balls, without hope for release?

He entered the room. Ingrid and Willem were still dancing. Hadn’t she made her choice yet, then? He opened his mouth to ask Ingrid about it. And closed it again immediately. What funny movements her hips were making. Her hips her buttocks … slowly rocking forward and backwards with the music’s rhythm. Her breath halted and panted a little. Then she gave a soft, groaning sigh, from deep inside her throat. Willem gave her a long and intense kiss.

They were fucking. While dancing! Ingrid was a tall woman, and on her high heels she could take Willem’s cock into her cunt, while dancing!

Hadn’t he told her himself to go dancing with Willem again? Well then! He felt as if he had given up his chance of sexual fulfillment himself. Very irrational of course, she had clearly preferred Willem from the start. His desire now really hurt him physically, the tingling had become aching. He felt a lump in his throat and tears welled up in his eyes.

But he had promised her. He wouldn’t whimper. He had no right to whimper. If this was the way he could give her pleasure, then he would bear this pain for her gratification.

She looked at him, to his face and his crotch. His pain and frustration would surely show clearly in his face. His cock quivered, as hard as a club, the glans a purplish red. He felt a drop of moisture trickling down his throbbing shaft.

It excited her visibly to see him like that, unsatisfied and rejected: her pelvis’ movements became more thrusting and less regular. She gasped and groaned audibly with pleasure. A very thin film of sweat covered her face. (And he couldn’t keep his eyes off her bewitching movements either.)

And that haunting dance went on and on. It had lasted about a quarter of an hour now, and Ingrid and Willem were hardly able to keep up the music’s rhythm anymore. It was less and less dancing and more and more fucking while standing up. Ingrid’s groaning sighs had become panting little cries now. Willem stroked her sacrum, between her loins and her buttocks.

Suddenly she grasped Willem’s other hand and pressed it roughly against one of her breasts. “Mmmm!” she groaned impatiently.

Willem began to massage the breast, while Ingrid’s head fell backwards, her eyes closed and her mouth wide open, grimacing with pleasure. The film of sweat now also covered Ingrid’s breasts and loins. Her hips moved fiercely and hungrily, as if she tried to catch the approaching orgasm between her thighs. Her skin had a red glow now, as if she blushed over her entire body.

And then she let out a shivering cry, and another one, and another one and another one as the glowing shoots of pleasure convulsed her groin. She laid her head against Willem’s shoulder, almost seeming to sob, the sweet cramps of gratification slowly, slowly ebbing away. He thought he saw something moist flowing down her thighs.

Then her lover couldn’t hold back anymore either: he screamed as his balls emptied themselves in hot spasms, shooting their liquid fire into her body.

And he stood by and looked on, and he only thought: “I must sweat it out. My poor bursting balls, my poor cock, my poor naked body that needs her so badly and yet cannot get her. Her choice is final, she said. Did she mean that only for tonight? Or forever?”

Ingrid looked at him and smiled tenderly.

“Can you handle it, Jan?”

He nodded, although he really thought he couldn’t.

“You’re sweet. Can you believe me when I tell you that you gave me almost as much pleasure as Willem did? I almost thought I’d swoon when I saw you looking at us!”

He nodded again, swallowed the lump in his throat and smiled back.

“I’m awfully glad with you, Ingrid! It has been deliciously painful, and excruciatingly sublime!”

She blew a kiss at him, her smile mischievous now. Despite the ache of his unrequited longing the itch in his groin was ecstatic. Surely this wasn’t going to be their last night together.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

Copyright © Copyright ©2013 Jan Gravestein. May only be reproduced with my permission, and on the condition you mention me as the author.

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