Eve stood for a time, staring blankly at Sarah's front door with her finger extended, hovering just over the doorbell. Pulse racing as she gazed down at the envelope. Sarah asked if she could safely hand-deliver it to her mother, but the prospect of confronting Violet was too frightening for an eighteen-year-old girl; she slid the letter through the mailbox and hurried away into the darkness before she could be seen.
“It’s late for the postman. Graham, go and see what it is.”
“Looks like Sarah’s writing.” He looked confused, opening the front door to find no one there.
“Well, give it here; stop dawdling, for heaven's sake. Let me see.”
Moments later, Violet looked visibly shocked as she lowered the letter to her lap, staring blankly forward. “She’s not coming back; my baby has run away from home.”
“Whatever do you mean, dear?”
“Sarah has decided to stay in Holland; she’s going to make a new life for herself. Violet burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably as Graham picked up the letter from her lap.
Two weeks prior.
Loud music drowned out the sound of the front door closing; Sarah didn't expect her parents home for several more hours. James was lying on his side, one leg pressed between Sarah's thighs. Her knee-length skirt was hooked around her waist, revealing her oversized white cotton panties. They kissed gently while their clumsy hands probed, both unsure what to do. He squeezed and prodded her breasts, making Sarah feel as if she were visiting the doctor for a checkup.
It seemed like a good idea at the time when Eve convinced her to see James; however, Sarah was regretting her decision. All he seemed to be interested in was trying to get inside her panties and rubbing his small lump against her leg like a horny puppy. Sarah yearned to be with a man, but she wasn’t the least bit turned on by the naive groping of a virgin male. She had imagined the encounter would have been much more enjoyable.
“WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?” Violet yelled, sprinting across the living room to seize James by the scruff of his neck.
“WHO ARE YOU?… OUT… RIGHT NOW… And don’t come back.” James, in shock, was frogmarched to the front door, the small bulge in his pants clearly visible.
Graham, the subservient, henpecked one in the relationship, stood silently with slumped shoulders, wishing he were somewhere else entirely while his dominant wife took charge of the proceedings. Graham was the type of man you never noticed in a room full of people: clearly a glutton for punishment living with Violet, who enjoyed humilating him with her large strap-on named ‘Brutus’.
“And you, young lady… Under my roof… Get upstairs to your room. I’ll deal with you later. TRAMP…” Violet yelled, slapping her daughter's face with the back of her hand, who ran off in tears.
Bitch, I can’t wait to leave this house; I hope she dies.
The next day.
It was a bright sunny morning as twelve eighteen year girls waited anxiously outside their high school gates as the coach arrived. It was to be a long journey: a few hours’ drive to the ferry port, a six-hour voyage from Harwich to the Hook of Holland, and then another long drive to Zaandam, their final destination. None of the girls complained; this was their first adventure outside the United Kingdom, and the air was electrified with giddy excitement as they boarded.
“I am going to meet a nice Dutch boy. I hear they are all good-looking. Blonde and tall and very good kissers. What about you, Sarah? Do you want to meet a nice boy?” Eve was always talking about boys, probably because she knew she wasn’t the most attractive girl in their class.
“I don’t know Eve; I am just glad to be out of that house for two weeks. What do we do if the family is horrible? That would be the worst.”
“They say Dutch people are very liberal, even horizontal.” Eve looked around the seats next to them and then spoke in a hushed voice. “They have places where they go naked together in public.” Eve giggled.
“That’s preposterous.” Sarah tried to picture the view in her mind.
“I overheard Dad telling Mum about it. He said, "They're a bunch of pot-smoking hippies with no moral compass.” Sarah laughed; it was the sort of flippant comment her mother would make.
“Well, let’s see… if I meet a nice boy then, yeah, why not…” Sarah beamed at the prospect of being intimate with an experienced boy.
“Would you do it?” Eve gazed at Sarah, hanging on her reply. “You know… sleep with him?”
“Eerrr…” She thought hard for a moment. “I don’t know; he has to be special, the right boy, I suppose.” Sarah generally gave herself good advice, though she very seldom followed it.
“Special… you mean with a big cock… I am going to do it; I don’t care, maybe with even more than one boy.” Eve’s eyes were wide with excitement.
“What at the same time?” Sarah looked confused.
“Mmmmm… There’s a thought; I packed condoms too,” Eve said proudly. “I am not coming back a virgin; you can be sure of that.”
“EVE, my goodness, you are such a slut sometimes.”
“And those naked places – just imagine hot guys walking around with their cocks out. How amazing would that be? They might even get hard seeing me naked?”
“Eve, what’s wrong with you? That’s just weird.” Eve moved her face in front of Sarah’s and looked her directly in the eyes.
“Is it, though?” Sarah blinked, her expression robotic, unsure of how to respond and struggling to process the information that Eve had evidently been analysing for quite some time.
After a long journey, the coach pulled into a bay at Zaandam Central Station. The energy level immediately surged with everyone conversing at the same time. You could barely hear yourself think. Outside, twelve families eagerly awaited, poised like meerkats, watching as each of the girls disembarked the coach and queued as instructed. Without delay each student was called forward alphabetically by surname to meet their surrogate family. Eve Button was the first to be called forward.
“See you in a few weeks; good luck, Sarah." They hugged.
“You too, and stay away from those naked places.” She giggled as Eve picked up her case and walked towards a good-looking Dutch family.
Sarah Thomas was one of the last to be called. A mother and her daughter stepped forward with brilliant, beaming white smiles, mirror reflections of each other but with twenty years separating them. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief as she immediately warmed to their kindness. It was getting late, and the strawberry sun was just starting to set in the sky. Sarah felt fatigued after travelling all day with the added pressure of worrying about what her family would be like.
The mother gave Sarah a big warming hug, pulling her into the massive soft pillows that engulfed her petite frame. Sarah instantly relaxed as the aroma of coconut from Wilma’s hair filled her nose; it felt so good to be embraced in such a motherly fashion, warm, soft and natural. She prayed the hug would last forever.
“Hello Sarah… I am Wilma, and this is my daughter Lena. We are pleased to welcome you and hope you have a wonderful time in the Netherlands learning about our customs and lifestyle.” Her pale blue eyes sparkled like gemstones full of life, immediately captivating Sarah.
After a short drive, they arrived at a traditional Dutch house with a steeply pitched roof and a flat façade, which was secluded from the three other houses in the neighbourhood. Lena brought Sarah's case upstairs as she sat on the sofa in the front room with Wilma. Her eyes darted around the room as they talked, taking in the quirky ornaments and traditional Dutch styling that were so different from her own home.
How peculiar? There are no net curtains on the windows – no privacy at all.
“You must be tired after the long journey; I’ve made you a sandwich and some milk. Lena will show you around after you eat. If you need anything, just ask; we are very open people, as you will find out.” Wilma stroked her rosy cheek softly with the back of her finger.
“Thank you, Mrs Jansen.”
“Please… Wilma…. Oh yes, very important; don’t think Dutch people are rude. We are just very direct.” She pecked Sarah on the cheek and returned with a croquette sandwich and milk.
“Gerben, my husband is out this evening; it’s his friend’s birthday. You'll meet him in the morning.”
After a quick tour of the house and garden, the girls went to Lena's bedroom, which was decorated with posters of Adam and the Ants, Duran Duran and Depeche Mode. Sarah was off to a good start, liking the bands and having plenty of cassette tapes for her Walkman. On one side of the room she noticed a makeshift bed that did not appear to be particularly accommodating. Sarah’s heart sank when she saw it.
"You are sleeping in my bed, and I’ll sleep here.” Lena pointed to the makeshift bed.
“No, I can’t put you out like that; it’s two weeks, and you can’t sleep there.” It wasn’t ideal, but she could probably cope with sharing; Sarah only had a single bed at home, so there was plenty of space for them both in a double.
“You are the guest, and you get the bed; let’s not fight about it.” Lena pushed Sarah back playfully, causing her to stumble at the edge of the bed and fall back, sitting.
Sarah felt awful; there’s no way she could let Lena sleep there. “Look, the bed is big enough for the both of us; why don’t we just share?”
“Are you sure? I thought English girls were prudes.” Lena bounced down onto the bed next to Sarah.
Sarah had her pyjamas and felt safe enough. “Sure, it’s okay. I don’t mind if you don’t.” Lena pecked her on the cheek, pleased she got to sleep in the bed too.
“Cool, want to listen to some music before bed? You can put your things in these drawers. I cleared the bottom two out for you.”
The girls were soon laughing and getting along just great. Lena had typical Dutch features: shoulder-length wavy blonde hair, a nice rounded face with an infectious broad smile and massive white teeth, and bright pale blue eyes like the sea around a Greek island. She was curvaceous, with large D-cup breasts for her tiny frame. Sarah could tell she wasn't wearing a bra since her pointed nipples poked against the t-shirt as her tits moved freely beneath; she also noticed the camel toe in her tight shorts. Sarah’s mother would have freaked out if she dressed like that.
“Let’s get some sleep so we’re fresh for tomorrow; you must be exhausted after travelling all day.” Lena stood, then, without a care in the world, slid off her top and wiggled out of her tight shorts and lacy pants.
Naked as the day she was born, she stood casually in front of Sarah, who was completely taken aback by her boldness; she'd never seen anyone other than herself naked before. She tried to look away, but her gaze was glued to the silky, hairless folds of Lena’s beautiful pussy. Sarah had never seen anything like it; hers was quite hairy. Lena's perky teardrop tits were heavy with puffy, pale pink areolas, her teats pointing upward, crowned by thick, dark pink nipples. Her body was beautifully bronzed with no tan lines.
They looked at each other in silence for some time. “Do you want to use the bathroom first?”
“Eerrr… No, it’s okay; you go ahead.” Sarah wanted the opportunity to privately change into her pyjamas. All of a sudden she felt very body-conscious. How could her smaller tits and pale skin ever compete?
Sarah was surprised again when Lena strolled slowly in a relaxed manor out of the bedroom towards the bathroom completely naked. Whilst she was gone, Sarah quickly dressed in her brother's old paisley pyjamas; Lena smirked silently, rolling her eyes contemptuously at the pyjamas. Sarah knew she disapproved but didn't care; she wasn’t exactly at ease sharing the bed, especially as Lena was now naked. The bedside lamp flicked off as they snuggled down, and the room plunged into darkness. Sarah fell asleep instantly.
Later that night.
The unfamiliar sounds of the countryside stirred Sarah from her sleep; she awoke to an owl hooting in the far distance, then something else, gentle, muffled, and rhythmic groans emanating from Lena's parents' bedroom. She recognised the melody; it was the exact sound she made when stroking herself intimately. She tried hard not to listen and focus on getting back to sleep, but it was impossible not to hear the loud moans of pleasure. Then horror hit the pit of her stomach; she heard Lena let out a long, gentle sigh.
Even though Sarah was facing the opposite direction, the subtle movement of Lena’s hips rocking the bed put her in a blind panic; she pretended to be asleep, frozen stiff and horrified that Lena was openly masturbating to the sounds of her parents’ coupling.
“Ja, geef het maar aan mij.” Wilma begged in a deep, husky voice, then squealed with a long throaty groan, a cry of deep fulfilment. “Ja… Ja… Fuck… ahhh, Ja Ja.” It went on relentlessly. Sarah lost count of the number of orgasms Wilma had.
“Are you a virgin?” Still with her back to Lena, Sarah’s eyes widened, momentarily lost for words by the blunt question.
Lena had guessed Sarah was awake as the sounds of loving making echoed loudly round the house. Technically she was a virgin, though she had used carrots and even a cucumber on more occasions than she cared to admit. Without turning, she eventually replied.
“Yes.”
“Don’t you masturbate?” The wet sounds of her probing fingers grew louder. "It's natural; don’t be shy.” Her frankness caused Sarah to blush.
Who does she think she is asking such personal questions?
Sarah turned quickly with the intention of telling Lena to mind her own goddamn business, but what she saw took her breath away: Lena lay bathed in moonlight with one hand cupping her breast, squeezing her nipples as the other hand worked three fingers in and out of her bald pussy, her eyes half closed as her chest heaved while Wilma climaxed again. Sarah, despite her desire to be somewhere else in that moment, felt her own pussy immediately moisten and her nipples harden as the pounding sounds of sex became louder.
“Gerben has a very thick cock.” Sarah was stunned, wondering how Lena even knew that, but it was relative; Sarah had never seen a real cock and had no way to imagine what ‘thick' actually meant.
Clearly enjoying every thrust. Wilma was being pleasured hard and deep. Sarah was unable to look away as she watched Lena judder to an orgasm before rolling back over in a vain attempt to go back to sleep; her mind full of conflicting emotions, Lena continued to edge her pussy until her parents' creaky bedsprings were reclaimed by the serenity of the night.
Aroused but embarrassed Sarah could smell the sweet scent of Lena’s sex, along with her own juices. She squeezed her drenched thighs together, hoping for relief, but it only made her hard clit ache more. She was desperate to cum and aroused to a level she’d never experienced before but just couldn't bring herself to masturbate with Lena in the same room. Eventually, she drifted into a deep sleep.
The next morning.
The sound of a cock crowing in the distance woke Sarah with a start; Lena was still out cold, mouth wide as she breathed heavily, not the most flattering expression, but she looked stunning nonetheless. She slid out of bed, desperate to pee, and tiptoed as quietly as possible down the hall to the bathroom. Her pussy was slippery and much wetter than she had expected; still aroused, her clit stiffened as a forceful jet of pee blasted into the toilet. In desperation she contemplated relieving herself but was too scared someone might hear her climax.
As she returned to the bedroom, a door suddenly opened. She caught a brief glimpse of Gerben's naked back as he slept; she wished he’d been on his back so she could see the thick tool that had given Wilma so much joy the night before. A voluptuous Wilma stepped from the room completely naked, looking like an older version of Lena with larger, pendulous G-cup breasts; thick, long, hard pink nipples stood proudly erect. She too was completely hairless, revealing the meaty folds and prominent moist labia which dangled from her silky-smooth mature pussy.
“Good morning, Goedemorgen. Did you sleep well? I hope we didn’t make too much noise?” Wilma asked, frowning at Sarah’s paisley pyjamas. “Did you sleep in those?”
Is she joking? How could I sleep, listening to her being fucked for hours on end? Oh my god, her thighs are soaking wet?
“Yes, thank you. We shared the bed; it’s more comfortable for Lena that way.” She chose not to answer the question about her pyjamas.
“I’ll make some breakfast for us all. It will be ready soon. Do you want coffee or hot milk?”
“Cold milk, please.”
“I should have mentioned that we are not shy people; nudity is quite common for us, is that okay with you?”
“Oh, Eerrr… Yes… that's quite alright; my mum goes nude all the time.” Sarah turned scarlet knowing Wilma saw straight through the little white lie.
Maybe I’ll get to see Gerben naked. Mmmmm... a real man’s cock.
“You know, I see something of myself in you; I used to be like you. I wish I’d realised sooner to enjoy life; I missed out on a lot of fun. I think I know just the thing you need.”
“What do you mean?” Wilma radiated a motherly warmth that comforted Sarah. Somehow, despite the shock of her nudity, she felt completely at ease in her company.
"You're introverted and worried about what people think of you and your body; you're too conservative to really relax and let go, probably even scared to find the real...
