I promised my friend to translate my texts into English, but that’s not easy. Technical, machine translations are a good base, but making it the lively story like in Dutch, is hard work.
My stories are very bi-sexual, where no man is shy of bodily fun with men or women, everybody is eager to get to know each other in the flesh, enjoying great intimacy.
In short, an ideal playing field, I think. Read my texts as if your Dutch friend, with a thick accent, tries to tell you a hot story.
Not the queens’ English, but passable?
For now I can only link you in te top menu to the stories and musings in Dutch, the language of the paradise of lust at the North Sea, but here is a start in English:

The blogs translated:

Claudio, Scopiare!

We were wandering through southern Europe, that summer of 1971, in our old Ford Anglia Sportsman (yes, the one with a spare wheel on the bumper), and had driven up the road to the Castelfusano Country Club near Lido di Ostia, thinking it would probably be far too posh for us.

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Flowerpot and flokati

“Watch out, it’s a llama, it’ll spit at you!” I warn her just in time and the white rays spray across the glass coffee table as she steers me. Sneaking a peek, I see her lower lips glistening.

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One species I save and replant carefully with her peers and between the pavement I just let them grow: Oenotera, the evening primrose. Because of my neighbor and her Onagres, which travel on the wind from her garden to mine.

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Sorrow and Solace

This week, after the funeral of my sister-in-law (my age) we stayed in Lizz’s grandmother’s apartment and she stayed in the guest room upstairs of the retirement home.

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and the fables translated:

  • Aphroditiae 1-1: Sex, a parlour game
    My dick always wakes up before my head. And now all the way wedged between tight buttocks. Now I feel why: my rod is gently massaged up and down with barely perceptible movements. My hand is lying on a belly, little finger in the curly hair.
  • Aphroditiae 1-2: Introductions
    Last week, after my move to this city, I had a few introductory talks as a senior partner of this larger architectural firm. Today the real work begins.
  • Aphroditiae 1-3: First Visitation: Karting
    In the pit stop we change karts and I see that all four of us are rather excited, somewhere between 135° and 180° from the south. Fred warns me to hold back, “you can be dangerously distracted” with a horny grin.
  • Aphroditiae 1-4: Second Visitation: the family
    I am dressed up in black shorts and ditto t-shirt. Because of the heat he only wears a white t-shirt and cycling shorts and I see his sex firmly locked in them. Big, as it should be. He makes the hug gesture and our mouths and cocks find each other in a fierce hug. If I was already stiff, now I have a serious hard-on in my pants.
  • Aphroditiae 1-5: Third Visitation: art!
    Paul comes from behind his easel, naked, erect and with semen crusted pubes. He looks attentively at me “You must be Ben” and puts a hand on my shoulder, grabs my chin and twists my head on profile.
  • Aphroditiae 1-6: Fourth Visitation: Stamina
    I just finished eating when my smartwatch says that I have to stay home for a test by two circle members. On their announces downstairs I let them into the hall, but when I look through my glass front doors I think I’m being tricked. Two hot cunts from an escort site. Geez!
  • Aphroditiae 1-7: Fifth Visitation – Survey
    The coffee machine has all my attention, when I am fully groped in my crotch from behind. Whispered in my ear “Ploughing in my garden, hey!” I turn my head and look into the blue eyes of Kees. He claws me hard down there.
  • Aphroditiae 1-8: Sixth Visitation: The Fat Lady
    “Marga’s waiting for you” and points to the room, where she just came from. They take me by the hand like a naughty little boy into a spacious front room, where in the center is a four-poster bed with voiles tied open. Around it three couches, as if it were an altar, a small version of the temple?
  • Aphroditiae 1-9: Seventh Visitation: the Ballerina
    Jenny enters in a thin summer dress. No, she floats! I drink her, her slender body, long ballet legs, mildly undulating bosom and handsome face with dramatically wavy dark hair, in dangerous backlighting…..
  • Aphroditiae 1.10: Rebirth in the grotto
    Jason kisses me awake and sets a breakfast tray on the bed. Sitting cross-legged, he slids open a croissant in front of me, naked and with his never quite flaccid cock shaking back and forth. Now I have to fucking choose witch to put in my mouth….
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