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By TexasKurt

Our meeting was scheduled for Tuesday morning in one of those ultra-sleek, Dutch modern, steel, stone and glass monstrosities out on the A10. To arrive on time, we had to leave the hotel by 7:15 a.m. When we arrived, a bit early, we were met by one of those typical Dutch girls – tall, a bit severe from a distance, but an engaging smile closer up. She immediately apologized for not being able to reach us to tell us the CFO’s flight from Karachi had been cancelled and that he was not expected to be in Amsterdam until Wednesday afternoon. Could we return on Thursday? It was all a bit frustrating, but flight cancellations are a fact of business travel these days. As Brian and I left the building, it had begun snowing. It was one of those typical Amsterdam snowfalls – big wet flakes, but no icing and no build up. Brian was unaccustomed to snow, and he suggested we return to the hotel and change and take a drive through the Dutch countryside. I knew the Dutch countryside around Amsterdam was not much to see, and I also knew the traffic would be terrible. But, Brian was so excited I just couldn’t say no. We raced back to the hotel, changed into sweaters and jeans and headed out the A4 towards Haarlem and Den Haag.

After we got out of Amsterdam proper, the snow picked up a bit, and the traffic remained terrible. We pulled off the A4 at Leiden and stopped for coffee. When we came back out, I glanced over at the A4, saw cars stretched for miles, and suggested that we cut over to a coastal road. We headed towards Katwijk aan Zee. It was mistake. When we saw the sea, we both felt we were in trouble. The sky was gray and heavy, the wind was blowing strongly off the sea, there were white caps, and the ice had begun building up on the windshield. It seemed prudent to head back in the general direction of Amsterdam, so I turned toward Haarlem. By the time we had made it to Noordwijk aan Zee, the snow was building up fast and the road was turning icy. The English television stations had forecast 2 /C for Amsterdam, so I hoped this would end soon. We stopped at a caf and had a fairly typical Dutch lunch, a thick soup, some sausages and bread, and, of course, a couple of Grolisch’s each. The storm did not seem to be abating, and the proprietress came over to hustle us out so she could close. I asked if she knew of any rooms available in the area, and, as luck would have it, she ran a gasthaus upstairs and had one room left. We took it.

The proprietress told us the market across the street would be open for another half hour or so, and we ought to get provisions for the night. She doubted that she would be returning. Brian and I darted across the street and bought some snacks and beer and headed to the room. The snow and ice had soaked us. The room was standard fare – a sloping ceiling with dormers and a large porcelain stove that didn’t seem to be putting out any heat. The room was frigid, and the proprietress couldn’t be found. We kicked off our shoes and crawled under the eider down duvet. We were asleep within minutes.

About two (2) hours later, we awoke to a sweltering room. The heat had arrived. We stuck the beer on the ledge outside the window and kept the window cracked a bit. The wind was howling and the ice was hitting the window panes. When I glanced outside, the snow was falling even heavier.

In the now more comfortable room we unpacked the provisions we had purchased, Brian went into the bathroom and splashed some water about, and came out wearing black string bikinis. He paused as he passed me and gave me a long, wet kiss and a nice slap on the ass. I didn’t waste any time undressing, but I had worn only a sweater and jeans, no underclothes, so I was naked as soon as the jeans were off and the sight of Brian in his black bikinis had given me a pretty good hard-on. Brian grabbed my dick and led me to the bed. I crawled under the duvet. He dropped his bikinis and crawled over me, stopping to kiss me once again. Soon, we were both under the duvet, spoon style, with my dick pressed against his ass.

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