Imagine you come to see me in Amsterdam.Your excuse can be to get that T-shirtwith the text, big in black on white:GOOD GIRLS GO TO HEAVENBAD GIRLS GO...TO AMSTERDAMIn an Indian Summer in September indeed Solagge flies to Schiphol Airport near AmsterdamWarm late Summers are a bit rare in Amsterdams moderate sea climate but this one is greatWarm temperatures and lots of sun is just what I need for my eight blossoming 'weed-women'We meet at Schiphol Airport, big hugs, first kisses before we get the. "That's great," I said as I got up to use the restroom.Right away I noticed something different. Alarmed and excited I rushed to the restroom. When the door was closed and locked I pushed down my pants. I took some deep breaths to calm and brace myself. I watched in the mirror as I dropped my boxers. There it was, my own cunt. I looked down and it was still there. It had brownish-black hair like I do and was curly. I was instantly turned on but my arousal conflicted with my need to urinate. I. "How you gonna keep 'em down on the farm after they've seen Paree?" That line from a World War One song seems particularly apropos. It felt as though I was spending more time in Tina's bed than in my own. And it didn't take very long for our mutual masturbation to develop into more mature pleasures. Each time we got together, we progressed, if you'll forgive my use of such a word in this situation.It was two days later that Tina and I were again in her room. We knew that her mother was. I wish there was some way that I could take you with me."Sighing heavily, Alice got out of her chair, walked down the bare hallway, and then descended the stairs to the basement where there was a large metal contraption hanging from the ceiling.It looked like a phone booth, but shorter and made of lead. It hung from the ceiling with a short but very sturdy chain, and at the bottom, which dangled just inches from the floor, was a rectangular funnel that came to a point over a small ceramic dish..