Around the World in 80 Babes - Episode 9

Dorien Duinker moves through Amsterdam with an easy stride. She slips into a dim café on the Prinsengracht, kisses the cheek of a friend, orders a double espresso, and lets her palm rest on the warm thigh beside her. The friend’s skirt rides higher under Dorien’s fingers until the soft skin just above the stocking top is bare and tingling. A quick squeeze, a breathy laugh, and Dorien stands again. She weaves between bicycles and bodies, coat open so the wind presses silk against her nipples. In a boutique near the Jordaan she steps behind a heavy curtain, lets the salesgirl unbutton her blouse, and watches the girl’s tongue flick once—slow, deliberate—across each hardened tip before the blouse is buttoned again. Night falls. In a narrow club she bends over the bar, skirt pushed to her waist, and feels two long fingers slide inside her, slick, steady, curling with each beat of the music until her knees threaten to give. She straightens, takes the glass offered to her, and carries the taste of herself on her lips for the rest of the evening.