Stella Maris is into S.M. Pt. 01

Stella Maris looks like ballet blonde belle, especially as she moves. Even when she sits it is with her back straight. Back at secondary school in Emmen - in the North of The Netherlands, near the border with Germany - she won with her partner only gold medals in ballroom dancing: English waltz, Quickstep, but also in Rumba and Tango. Ballet was weekly training without any official competitions or yearly public shows.

Many things changed when she left her parents place to study in Amsterdam. She found a spacious room at a lady in the area near Olympic stadium, close to Southern suburb Amstelveen, the area where most of the 'good girls' live. She installed some of her fourniture and registered for first week introduction program of her University of Amsterdam. Which was the way we met, back in 1976.

I started my studies at the same institution three years earlier, after getting my first B.A in Technical Physics in Heerlen, which is also close to the border between The Netherlands and its large neighbour country, but far down South. Holland at its narrowest: the distance to Belgian border in the West is only five miles, while Germany in the East is about a mile. I arrived together with my sister Marjolene, who finished Gymnasium - i.e. with classical languages Latin and Greek - and wanted to study linguistics where I went. We arrived on a Wednesday to find out the Introduction week was already running. Gave us time to get to know the city a bit and find rooms to stay. She found temporary place at a friend of our folks. Irene Offers, daughter of a Reverent living a few houses from them. Same traditional Evangelical Church as them, so they trusted her automatically. Anyway, Irene wasn't there for a few weeks and offered her apartment to us for the time being. I showed my sister around, while we looked for rooms to rent. First day we walked the part of old town near where we were.

On a window she saw a note "Room for rent". We went inside for information. The lady told it is only up for rent per hour, not for many months. Marjolene never knew before that Amsterdam is for most tourists famous for its 'Red Light District'. Nor did she have any clue about sex, nor had sexual feelings. She only knew that boys continuously had a crush on her. Me not less, right from the start when titties began to grow. But that is another story, perhaps to be told later.

Anyway, overprotective mom was fast to bring my sweet innocent sister back to safety of the parental home, to take up studies for Teacher of Art from there in the nearby local capital. Exit my sister. Enter student life. Next week was introduction at the Faculty of Math and Physics. Which was okay, albeit with women in a minority. Study went well. Smooth enough for some time off, exploring night-life in old town. With my first B.A. up my belt, the next one - in Physics - was relatively easy.

In my second year I was in time for this 'Intree' (= 'Entrance') week. Which was nice and affordable, so I volunteered to lead one of those hundreds of groups of some dozen freshmen students myself in the year after. Attractive proposition at the end of my money at end of the month. New students pay fifty bucks for full program, for me it was food for free: tea, coffee, lunch and dinner. As well as all tickets to evening programs in theaters and movie houses. Next I went out in the night life, bringing along a few most curious or courageous from my daring dozen. Several did not have their bicycle over. Most hadn't found a room yet, which opened the possibility of hosting a good looking lass for a nice night in my big broad bed. Who would sit at the back of my bike and had to stay up with me during my night in old town bars, till I finally wanted to go to bed. This could easily lead to 'one-week-stands', so to speak. Subject for yet another story.

Anyway, I had enough fun for free leading my first dozen, to decide to do it again at end of next Summer. Better luck than the first time when my group was about evenly split in numbers of boys and girls, as I counted eight females, with at least half of them good looking by my standards of slender small-chested sweethearts, at best boy-ish bottoms, as the prettiest by far: Stella Maris. Later she told me her daddy loved to pretend she was his sexy secretary, when he took her out. In private he joked on her lovely looks as "Ounce of ass in a pound of pants". A poetic brilliancy to describe her boy-ish bums.

With a majority of the girls having a crush on me, it was easy to manipulate the group to vote for my propositions of adapting our scheduled program. Wednesday was for sports, but we decided it was too warm weather for that and we left for the beach at less than twenty miles. Most of my group ran in and out the breaking waves, but Stella Maris stayed at my side on her towel spread right next to mine on the warm sand. We whispered and joked a bit, Dozed off, or pretended that. She laid on her back, eyes closed. Only wearing a bright blue mini-bikini, matching well with her blue eyes and bronzed skin from earlier sun-bathing back home or on holiday. Occasion for my eyes to slowly scan all of her tall slim trimmed body and trying to imagine how she would look without any bikini. B-cup breasts. Her hips bones made her slip slightly open for view down her belly. Nor far enough to see whether she was also blonde below, but enough to wake my manhood to stand to attention, so I turned to rest on my belly, pecker poking hot sand. First week intimacies were just a few stolen kisses at her cheeks. Her shyness awakened mine. With all those others around it went slow between us that first week.

In Autumn I took her out for dinners. She loved the Italian style and food in 'Isola Bella'. Belly full and few glasses of Chianti or Frascati got her in the mood for kissing and hugging, but she let me wait till an occasion with more privacy before she let me touch her inside her pants. Similar to my first steady, a few years earlier, there was enough room to feel her up from behind, fondling her small bottom, without her letting me pull down her pants. Patience needed to build up trust. Mutual friends couple her age from my dorm floor invited us to a party at a boat outside Amsterdam, where all stayed for the night, each in their sleeping backs. She next to me, seeking some protection among almost only strangers, all in student ages. Again we whispered a lot, but this time with tongue twirling in between. After that we were a couple, at least she felt like that, so first sex seemed just around the corner at a proper occasion.

No-one at my floor had much money, hence we rarely went out for drinks, but rather often threw parties in the large main common room annex kitchen. No closing hours is another advantage. She danced with me all night and had lots of wine, so finally she decided she would better share my big bed than go on bicycle for the long ride to her room. My dorm is on top floor, the dance-kitchen has large windows and a big balcony overlooking river Amstel and beyond it, old town with the canals in circles around its heart of the centre. My room was at the back. To gain space, my double bed was high up, half a meter under the ceiling, with a view on most of the famous Noble Prize winners labs and Institutes, like Zeeman's which still kept the large magnet of his experiments in the cellar. Van der Waals Lab is beyond that one. If there would be a Nobel Prize for blonde ballet belles, she would be my winner.

Soon I would discover some sexual secrets at Stella Maris. Firstly, like most females, she wants room to finger her Miss Clitty for getting an orgasm during our intercourse. Her favourite position is on her belly, right cheek at my pillow, right hand below her belly. She loved it when I took her from behind as soon she got wet enough from fondling and kissing. Later she explained she really gets horny from feeling my knees pushing her long legs wider apart. Her first sign of learning to love sex in submission. As a Catholic good girl, she needed to be pushed physically a bit, in order to lose herself in having hot sex.

She was already on the pill, so I could just empty my balls deep inside her as I like.

Another instruction to use I noticed soon after we started to sleep together. I would wake up with a big - full bladder - boner, but she wasn't immediately in the mood. Sometimes she just let me take her, but she preferred to take time to get into the groove. So I found the compromise of first serving her breakfast in bed, usually my main success as chef: 'Oeufs a la Poet-PETER' smother tomatoes first, remove the skins, add bacon, maybe mushrooms, few eggs, topped with Gouda cheese, on low flame. Yolks still bit jilly. That is how all my girls love it. Stella Maris never failed to get horny from my breakfast in bed, I only need to caress her full belly for few seconds and she would turn over on her belly, signalling 'time to make love to me, my honey'!

And she never failed to come, drooling sputum on my pillow, while I drooled my sperm around her cervix. Go for a sexy swimming race, you nicely naughty boys! First one will break into her egg in waiting, while second one is usually the one making babies. Funny bio-physics of fertilization.

Soon Stella Maris started to love sex as much as I did. New Years Eve the first time we both came eight times in a day. Proud as pea-cock - strange name, my cock more a sausage of seven eight inches, never a pea-size, not even on ice-cubes - I carved the date and number at the inside of one of the toilet doors: "1-1-77:8!", drawing a boat from that doodle to make it into a puzzle, which might still be visible there at the door West.

So much for first four months of my love life with Stella Maris and her first signs of loving sexual submission to a certain degree. There is much more to tell, as our relation lasted several years. And her sexual development just got under way.

But this is my debut here, so I take a break and wait to see how it will turn out.

Let us know in comments what you liked or not, or any questions you might have.