I’m sweating, right through my t-shirt. The air in Amsterdam is humid even at night. Summer on the continent.

The entire famous Red Light District buzzes like a hive of neon lights. Narrow streets, canals that reflect their surroundings with a pink and purple glow. Boys stumbling out of bars laughing way too loudly.

I’m alone, two days into my first solo trip. My backpack is heavy with souvenirs I don’t really need. My name is Bjørn and I’m 29 years old. Just another guy trying to “find himself” after a period of hard work on a fishing boat, and a breakup that wasn’t even dramatic. I’m not here for cannabis or bikes.

I’m curious about the windows.

The canals smell of damp stone and hash. I maneuver my way through the crowds, past small shops and coffee shops that offer everything but coffee. My sneakers stick to the cobblestones, making a little “tick” with each step I take.

The famous and infamous windows begin to appear. Women in lingerie leaning against the glass. Many smile and wave at me. Some look tired and bored but do their best to move sensually and seductively.

I keep my head down, my hands in my pockets. Feeling like a real creepy guy, but at the same time too curious to turn around. I’m not such a horny pervert , I tell myself. Just watching. It’s legal here, nothing to be ashamed of.

My heart is still pounding like hell.

I round a corner, and there she stands. Tall, as in “model-tall,” with legs that never end. Fishnet stockings. Dark hair that falls elegantly over her shoulders, lips full and red. Majestic. She’s wearing a black, intricately laced suit and is leaning against the windowsill with one hand on her hip. She makes eye contact and doesn’t look away. My stomach does a jump, and I instinctively look away for a few seconds before I realize that I’m already busty.

She’s gorgeous, like she’s straight out of a magazine. Her gaze is sharp, as if she’s considering me. I stop completely, forgetting everything and everyone around me.

“Damn, she’s so pretty,” I mutter to myself. I glance up at the frame that surrounds the window. Like all these windows, there’s light there, but I don’t think too hard about it. Blue.

Unimportant. Doesn’t matter. My brain has hung hard on her cheekbones, and that confident radiance. I’m not the type to do that here. I’ve never, ever paid for sex. But my legs move before I can finish the thought. I’m standing at her door, managing to put my hand on the handle before I back out and let go. Before I can react, she’s already opened the door for me. She steps aside and follows me with her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

Inside it’s cramped and dark. It smells of perfume, and something sharper. Maybe cleaning products. There’s a bed there with red sheets, a chair, a sink in the corner. She closes the door behind me, and I only now notice how tall she actually is. Taller than me, and I’m six-foot-five. Her heels click on the floor. “Hi, handsome, ” she says femininely, in a low, rich female voice. “First time?”

I nod, my throat dry. “Yes. Uh , my name is Bjørn. I mean, yeah, I’m Bjørn. How’d you know?”

“Nice to meet you, Bjørn. I’m Sasha.” She ignores my awkward question. She comes closer, and I can smell her perfume. Sweet, but not too much. “Bjørn. Strong name… What kind of fun would you like tonight?”

My brain is clicking. I haven’t thought this far. Damn. I’m suddenly in deep water. Unplanned. Unprepared. This is not thought through at all. Wow. ” Eh , just the normal stuff , I guess ?”

She laughs – fast and sharp. “Normal is boring. Let’s make it fun.” She’s standing close to me now. Her fingers stroke my arm. I feel her breath. Minty. Fresh. My skin tingles.

I’m nervous, but my body reacts. Heat gathers in my lower abdomen, hips, and lower abdomen.

I feel it. I try to play it cool, but my eyes are drawn to her body, where the lace molds to her curves. She’s perfect. Maybe too perfect? This can’t possibly be real. A thought gnaws at me, but it’s effectively pushed aside by the feeling of excitement.

“Where.. How much ?” I ask. My voice cracks like I’m 16.

She says a price. High, but I have cash. I’ve given up on expensive dinners when it’s just me on the trip anyway. Solo trip, which is likely to become less solo and more duo for a little while. I nod and fumble for my wallet. I notice that my hands are shaking slightly. ” Condom , right?” I say. Trying to sound responsible and experienced. I try to fish out a dong from a slightly too tight space in my wallet.

« Of course ,” she says, pointing to a bowl on the table, full of shiny little packages. “ Safety first.” Her tone is teasing, but there’s something professional about it too. As if she’s done this a thousand times. She probably has. I give her the money, and she locks it in a small safe by the bed. “ Relax , Bjørn,” she says, turning to me. “ I’ll fog really good care of you .»

I try to relax, but my heart is pounding relentlessly.

She, on the other hand, is so confident, so controlled. It’s hot, but it also makes me feel completely out of control. I’m used to knowing what’s going on. Not this. She comes closer again, puts her hand on my chest, and gently pushes me back against the bed. “ Sit down. ” down » she says. I do exactly as she says. Surprisingly obedient, and weak in the knees. She stands in front of me. One hand on her hip, the other twirling a lock of hair towards her chin and lips. «What do you like?» she asks.

I’m blacking out. “Um, I don’t know. You’re.. uh, really, incredibly hot, so… anything?”

She smiles crookedly, as if she’s heard it before. “Mister flattering… We’ll start off soft.” She kneels in front of me, her hands resting on my thighs, and my brain short-circuits. I’m hard already. Way too fast. Her fingers undo my belt, and I try to stay focused, but something nibbles again. My mind spins. Zero control. Panic. The blue light. What does it mean? I’ve heard something or other about the colors here, but I don’t remember. Red is common, right? Blue is… er.. what then?

“ Sasha ,” I say, my voice shaky. “The light outside… It was blue, right?”

She stops. Her hands are still on my pants. She tilts her head up. Her eyes meet mine. A glint of titillating fucking in her gaze. ” Yes , it’s blue .» She tilts her head a little. « You do know what that “means , dear ?”

My stomach sinks. I don’t, but I’m starting to guess. ” Eh … now ?

She sits back on her heels and gives me a look that’s half challenging, half compassionate. “Blue means that I’m trans, dear. You understand? I have a dick. Do you still want to play?” Her hands haven’t moved, and I can still feel her heat against my thighs and crotch.

My brain is locking up. Trans. Damn. I knew it was a thing down here, but… I didn’t know. Never quite took it in, like. I stare at her. Jaw open, words stuck. She’s still gorgeous, still confident. But now I see new things. The shoulders are maybe a little broad, the hips not quite what I thought. My heart is racing, and not just from nervousness now. Full-on panic. I’ve never done this. Never even considered the thought.

“Bear?” she says, softer now. “Are you OK? You can leave if you want to. No hard feelings.”

I should go. That’s the smart thing to do. But I’m still hard. And she’s still sitting there on her knees, looking at me. Without judging, just waiting. Empathetic and beautiful. The brain screams one thing, the body something else. ” I… I don’t ” I know ,” I stammer. ” I’ve fists… »

“One time has to be the first, honey ,” she says with another crooked smile. “I’m good, Bjørn. Really good. You might end up enjoying it.”

I swallow hard. My hands are shaking. I’m freaking out, but I’m also… curious? Damn, am I really doing this? No, damn it. Or. Yeah. Maybe. No! “Okay,” I say anyway, almost inaudibly. ” We can try this .»

Her eyes light up, as if she’s just won a bet with herself. The joy seems genuine. “Good boy,” she says, and her hands work on my pants again, pulling them down. My heart is pounding in my chest, but I don’t stop her. I’ve gone too far now to turn around. What the hell am I doing?

My jeans are around my ankles, and Sasha’s hands rest lightly on my thighs. Her nails press just hard enough to keep me in the moment, even as my head races to escape me. I’m still completely out of my mind. My brain is a chaotic mix of “what the hell am I doing” and “she’s so fucking sexy.” She’s trans. She has a dick. Okay, I’m trying to take it in, or at least process it. Her face is just inches from my boxers, and I’m rock hard. There’s no hiding it. She looks up at me, her gaze sharp, as if she’s reading my every thought.

” Relax , baby,” she says in a low, relaxed voice, like a caregiver. ” You’re gonna like this »

I nod, but my mouth is dry, the words stuck. She hooks her fingers inside my boxers and pulls them down, slowly, deliberately. My cock pops out, and I feel a real twinge of embarrassment at how ready it looks. But she doesn’t laugh. She just makes a low, affirmative sound. “ Niice ,” she says, and before I can answer, her mouth is around mine.

Oh my God. Her lips are warm and soft, and she doesn’t fuck. She takes me deep, her tongue doing things I didn’t know tongues could do. A little saliva squeezes past her lips and runs down my balls. I grip the edge of the bed, knuckles white, trying not to come in ten seconds. “ Oh , fuck, Sasha ,” I gasp, and she pulls back a little with a smile.

“I’m sorry. ” you I am ” good ,” she says, before continuing. My head is spinning. I try to focus on the feeling down there, not on the fact that I’m lying in a room with a trans prostitute in Amsterdam, doing something I’ve never imagined. Her hand is around my balls. Firm but gentle, and it’s too much. I’m already close.

“Wait,” I say, my voice trembling. ” Slow down . I don’t want to.. you know…”

She pulls away, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “You’re so cute when you’re nervous.” Then she stands up, tall and dominant in her high heels, and begins to pull off her black lace dress. It slides down her body, revealing smooth skin, small but perfect tits, and then… Damn. There it is. Her cock. Not gigantic, but clearly present, semi-erect, and I can’t stop staring. My brain screams for me to stop, but my body doesn’t listen. The panic that had been suffocating in hornyness for the past few minutes comes back to life.

“Are you ” Are you doing OK?” she asks, one eyebrow raised. She’s so calm. As if this is completely standard.

“Yeah,” I lie, my voice cracking. “Just unknown territory.”

She laughs. Genuinely and a little mockingly. « You get used to it”. She grabs a condom from the bowl, tears it open with her teeth and rolls it on herself. Routinely and efficiently, and in a strange way, almost arousing. She comes closer. Her condom-covered cock brushes against my thigh, and I flinch. She notices it, but doesn’t comment. Instead, she pushes me back onto the bed, climbs over me, and her weight holds me down.

« Let’s have some ” fun ,” she says, and before I can answer, she’s kissing my neck. Her lips and the tip of her tongue glide over my skin. I’m tense, but my body responds, my hips moving beneath her. She reaches down and jerks my damp cock, and I moan. Then her hand moves further down, past my balls, and I freeze.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

” Shh ,” she says, circling a finger around my ass. “Trust me .”

I’m not stopping her. But I don’t trust her. Not really.

But I’m too far out in the deep end to stop anything now. She grabs lube from the table, smears her fingers, and starts working my hole. It feels strange, invasive, but not painful. My brain screams that this is way too much, but my cock is still hard, so obviously I’m in on it. She’s calm and careful, watching my face for signs that I want to stop. I don’t give her any. Instead, I kiss her on the lips.

She gives me a slightly surprised expression and asks ” Does it feel ” Nice ?” she asks, in a soft voice.

” Yes, ” I manage, my face burning. ” Weird. ” ” but … nice .”

She smiles, almost proudly, and adds another finger. I take a deep breath, but there’s no pain. Just pressure, expansion. She’s good. Too good. I’m actually starting to relax. My body loosens under her. ” You’re doing really ” Well ,” she says, and I hate how much I actually like her compliments.

Then she changes position, positions herself. ” Ready ?” she asks, holding her index finger and thumb around the base of her condom .

I nod reluctantly, my heart pounding. Now it’s serious. There’s no turning back. She slides in, slowly, and it’s intense. A little burning, but then… just full. I clutch the sheet, trying to breathe. “Fuck,” I mutter, and she stops.

“Are you all right?” she asks, with her hand on my hip.

“Yeah, just, take it easy.”

She does, pushing in little by little, until she’s all the way in. It’s overwhelming, but not painful. She starts moving, little short thrusts, and my body adjusts. The sting fades into something else. Something good. I moan, before I even realize it, and she smiles crookedly again.

“I’m sorry. ” you … » she says and increases the pace. Now she fucks me, steadily and deeply, and I lose myself. My cock leaks shiny pre-ejaculate against my stomach and rubs against the hair growth on my stomach. She grabs my hips, adjusts the angle, and hits a point inside me that sends me to heaven. I feel myself getting blindfolded and the world suddenly becomes very limited. « There we are .. » she says, as if she found a treasure.

I’m a chaos of emotions, panting, swearing, my brain suddenly completely blank, except for how good it feels. But then she slows down, pulls out. I’m confused, almost feeling cheated. “Your turn!” she says and lies on her back, legs spread. Quickly pulls off the condom , which lands neatly in the trash can next to the bed.

She’s still hard. “Fuck me .”

I blink, trying to gather my thoughts. “Me? Do you … ?”

” Yes !” she says, impatient and visibly excited.

She hands me a condom . “Your turn.” I fumble with the package, my hands shaking. She watches, her eyes amused, as I finally get it on. “Good boy,” she says again. And damn, why does it make me even harder when she talks to me like a young boy?

“The condom is on. Here’s lube. Let me have it, big boy!”

I get nervous again, but grab the lube, apply myself. She lies there, one hand behind her head, looking at me like I’m the show of the night. I position myself between her legs, awkwardly, like I’ve never slept with anyone before. She helps me. Her hand guides my cock. “ There … ” she says, and I push it in carefully and uncertainly.

She’s tight, hot, and I moan, my hands planted on either side of her. ” Fuuuck , Sasha ,” I say, and she laughs, short and hoarse.

“Fuck me , Bjørn,” she says, and I do. Slowly at first, then faster as she pushes me further. She’s gradually louder, moaning and cursing in a raw way that makes it all the hotter. Her cock jumps between us, and I’m strangely fascinated by the sight. I can’t look away while I fuck her. She notices it and smiles. ” Would you like to try something ” else ?”

Before I can answer, she pushes me off, turns around and gets on all fours. ” Lick it,” she says, her ass high in the air, while she fishes out a wet wipe and wipes away the lube from her opening. Which thankfully looks clean.

I stiffen. ” Eh … What do you ” mean ?”

« You heard me », she says and looks back. « Tongue . Ass. Right now .»

I’ve never rimmed before. Not on anyone. But she’s so confident, so commanding and demanding that there’s no room for saying no. I lean forward, hesitantly, and lick. It’s weird, but not bad. She moans loudly and presses her ass against me, and that’s all the encouragement I need. I go for it, my hands spreading her, and she twists, pressing herself back against me.

“Fuck yeah, ” she says, her voice muffled against the sheet. ” You’re a natural .”

I blush, but continue, my cock throbbing. She’s so responsive , every sound from her makes me want more. I tighten my tongue muscle and drive my tongue as far into her as I can. Shortly after, she pulls away, turns towards me. “My turn,” she says. And before I know it, I’m on my back with a freshly washed hole, and with her mouth against my ass.

I squeal, shocked both by what she’s making me do and by how dirty and willing I actually am. But her tongue is relentless, and I melt. My legs shake and I feel as horny and dirty as I’ve ever felt before.

“Sasha, f.. oh, you’re.. oh my.. so dirty and good,” I gasp. She just laughs, her tongue still against my hole. The vibrations make me lose my grip. She licks me like it’s her only job in the world, and I’m so close I’m afraid I’ll come without touching myself.

She pulls back, wipes her mouth and smiles broadly. ” Ready for more ?”

My legs are shaking, but I no longer know if it’s from nervousness, adrenaline, or just lust. Sasha smiles at me as if she just won a competition I didn’t even know we had.

My brain is a fog, still dizzy from her tongue going places I never imagined it could be. I’m so hard it hurts, my cock sticky with pre- cum . Sasha ’s cock dangles between us, and I’ve stopped freaking out about it. It’s just… a part of her. And she’s sexy as hell.

“More?” I gasp, half laughing, half terrified, and oddly enough, completely clear. ” You’re going to be the end of me !

“Not at all,” she says, crawling over me, her knees on either side of my hips. ” You’re tougher then you look ». Her voice is teasing, but her eyes are intense, as if she’s challenging me to keep up. She grabs a new condom from the bowl. Fresh . And rolls it on me with a slow, deliberate twist of her wrist. I moan, my hips springing up before I have time to think.

« Slow ” Down , tiger,” she says with a crooked smile. She’s in complete control, and I’m not fighting back anymore. She applies more lube, her fingers play, and I’m almost desperate without saying a word. Then she settles down, leads me in, and sinks down on top of me.

“God damn, ” I hiss, grabbing her thighs. She’s tight, so fucking tight, and the heat from inside her is unreal, even with a condom on. She starts moving, slowly at first, rolling her hips like she’s dancing. Her cock bounces with every movement, and I can’t stop watching. It’s strangely sexy, and I have no idea what that says about me, but right now I give a fuck.

“You like it,” she says. And not as a question. Her hands are on my chest, her nails digging in, and she rides me harder now, her breathing in rapid gasps. “Told you that you’d have fun with me!”.

“Yeah,” I manage, my voice trembling. ” You ” were right” I push myself up against her, find the rhythm, and she moans loudly and without shame. It’s raw, animalistic. My hands slide over her hips, her ass, everywhere I can reach.

Then she leans down and kisses me. For the first time. Her lips are soft, her tongue lingering, and I kiss back, desperately, as if I need it to breathe. My brain screams that I’m kissing a trans woman, and it turns me on indescribably. My body is all in, and so is my head now. No doubt. She tastes of mint and sweat, and I drown myself in it.

“Switch!” she says suddenly, pulling away from me so quickly that I feel dizzy. Now she’s on her knees, her ass in the air, looking back at me. “Fuck me again . Hard!

I don’t need to hear it twice. I’m behind her, sliding back in, and she pushes back, meeting every thrust. It’s frantic, sticky, perfect. Her moans are louder now, mixed with determined swearing, and I grunt, my hands squeezing her hips so hard I’m probably making marks. Her cock dangles beneath her, and on impulse I reach around and grab it.

She gasps, surprised, and laughs. “Wow, you’re really getting ” there, ” she says, her voice trembling. I jerk her off, clumsily but eagerly, and she trembles, her moans turning into little whimpers. It’s absurd to feel her hard in my hand while I’m inside her, but it turns me on, more than I thought.

“Bjorn,” she pants, “You’re gonna make me come.”

“Good!” I say, my voice rough and determined. I’m close now too, my thrusts are getting uneven, but I want her to come first. I jerk her off faster. My other hand squeezes her hip, and she tenses, her whole body stiffening as she pushes as hard and deep as she can against my cock. Then she cries out, loudly, and I feel her cock pulsing in my hand, the jerks, the way she squirts down and out onto the bedclothes.

It’s enough to send me over the edge. I thrust deeply a few last times, and then I’m there. My vision flickers, I see little dots of light flying around the room , and I come harder than I can remember. My legs give out, and I collapse on top of her, both of them awkward and heavy, sweating, in a tangle of body parts on the red sheets.

“Jesus Christ .. ” I say, carefully rolling off her and staring at the ceiling. My heart is pounding, my body is shaking. Sasha lies next to me, breathing heavily, her hair stuck to her forehead. She looks… satisfied. Proud, almost.

« I am that ” Good ,” she says, with the same crooked smile, but her voice has become more cheerful now. Less staged, completely genuine.

“Yeah,” I say, laughing dryly. “No shit .”

We lie there for a while, the only sounds are our breathing and the hum of the neon lights outside. I try to take it in, my brain is finally starting to reconnect. I just had sex with a trans woman. Anal, oral, rimming . The whole package. And it was… amazing. I’m not freaked out out anymore. Just… impressed.

Sasha sits up. “Are you okay?” she asks, looking at me. “No regrets ?”

“Well” I say, surprising myself. “It was actually pretty wild. It was… You are. Wild. You are fucking awesome. Marry me?”

She laughs and grabs a towel from the sink. “You’re not so bad yourself, Bjørn. For a first timer.”

I pull off my own condom, tie it and throw it away. My legs are shaking as I sit up. A quick trip into the shower, and on with my boxers. Sasha is waiting for me when I come out of the bathroom.

“So, uh … blue lights , right?” I say, trying to sound casual . “I didn’t really know “what I was in for.”

She smiles and wipes her face. “Surprisingly many don’t. But you handled it like a champ.”

I blush, but I also feel a kind of pride. I feel different. Not dramatically changed, but… more open, maybe? I’m not going to shout it out to the world, but I get it now. Trans women, like Sasha ? They’re hot. No question about it.

« Gotta ” Get back to work ,” she says, finding a towel for herself. “Will you stay in Amsterdam for a while?”

“A couple of days more,” I say, fastening my belt. “Maybe I’ll… walk past again.”

She raises an eyebrow, amused. “The blue lights are always on, handsome.”

I laugh and put on my jacket. “Yeah, maybe I’ll pay attention to that, next time.”

I go outside, and the humid night air hits my face.

The canal is still there. Still reflecting neon colors. And the crowd continues to buzz in the same way. But I am different.

Not in a big, dramatic way. Just… more consciously. I find a piece of gum , take a deep breath, and start walking. The blue light is behind me now, but I won’t forget it anytime soon.

The post The Blue Lights of Amsterdam first appeared on Fetish Stories.