Going to Amsterdam for some pain relief, and my sister and niece joins me
I had rented an apartment in Amsterdam for 2 weeks. A medical professional I know had recommended me ( off the records) to try some indica cannabis for my pains.
The budtender smiled as he handled the jars of dense, sticky flowers. He was a lean man with tattooed knuckles and an eye that twinkled with a hint of mischief. "Listen, mate," he whispered, leaning over the glass counter, "if you want the pain to vanish, the Indica will put you in a cocoon. But be warned: this specific harvest is a bit of a tease. It doesn't just relax the muscles; it wakes up the skin. Every touch feels like a spark, and suddenly, you're looking at everyone as if they're made of candy."
Tor let out a hearty laugh, leaning back as he looked at the colorful array of strains. "I'm here alone, my friend. I'll just be the most relaxed, horniest man in a very empty apartment," he joked. The budtender chuckled, sliding a few different ***********ions across the counter—some for deep sleep, some for a floating sensation, and one particularly pungent strain that smelled of pine and raw musk. "Amsterdam is a city of opportunities. If the apartment gets too quiet, the streets are full of people who wouldn't mind a man who's feeling... inspired."
The transaction felt less like a drug deal and more like a consultation at a high-end pharmacy. Tor packed the carefully weighed bags into his backpack.
Tor spent the first few days in a state of blissful, drifting suspension, where the boundary between his physical pain and the surrounding air seemed to blur. He discovered that the "pine and musk" strain didn't just dull the ache in his neck, it also made him horny. He spent hours in a loop of sensory indulgence. He would lose track of time relaxing.
He was mid-stroke, his eyes half-closed and his breath coming in ragged hitches, when his phone began to buzz violently on the coffee table. He groaned, his muscles feeling like warm wax, and fumbled for the device. It was his sister Silvia.
"You sound like you're floating in a bucket of honey, Tor,"
Tor tried to focus on the phone, but the room seemed to be gently rotating around him. "I'm not floating, I'm... vibrating," he managed to chuckle, leaning back into the sofa. He told her about the Indica, the way the pain in his neck and back had dissolved, and the side effects. Silvia laughed and said it was just what he need. She her self had never touched the stuff—she was too polished, too put-together for the haze—but she had always been open minded.
There was a pause, and for a moment, the silence on the line felt heavy with the weight of her recent divorce. "To be honest, Tor, the silence in my house is starting to ring in my ears. I can’t stand another weekend of staring at the walls and pretending I’m fine with being alone, can I join you?"
"Pack a bag and get over here," he replied, his voice thick and lazy. "The place is great, and has an extra bed and I've hit a snag. These strains make me feel like I could eat a whole cow, but the effort of actually preparing food is becoming a Herculean task. I need a designated chef to manage my munchies while I drift through the cosmos." She laughed and told me she would call me later with her travel details.
She called me back a few ours later.
"Change of plans, Tor," Silvia told him. "Aurora called me in a complete panic. There was a fire in her neighbor's flat—nothing catastrophic, but the smoke damage was severe. Her place is a disaster zone of soot and chemical fumes, and the building manager says she can't move back in until the professional sanitization crews have cleared the air. The poor thing is displaced and shaken up and I don't want to leave her alone."
"Bring her along. The apartment is huge. Aurora can have the spare room, and you can just crash in the king-size bed with me. It’s practically a fortress of a mattress; there’s plenty of room for two."
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. Silvia’s voice returned, a playful, sultry lilt creeping into her tone. "Sharing a bed with my big brother, hm? You've certainly gotten comfortable in your little cannabis sanctuary. I suppose it’ll be easier for me to keep an eye on you if I'm right there when you drift off into your clouds." She chuckled, a warm, melodic sound. "Alright, we'll both come. We could both use a bit of an escape."
The arrival at Schiphol was a blur of perfume and tactile warmth. As Tor stepped through the gates, he was nearly knocked over by two colliding forces of femininity. His niece Aurora hit him first, her body a lithe, energetic spring that bounced against him, her arms wrapping tight around his neck. She smelled like vanilla and something electric, her breasts pressing firmly into his chest for a heartbeat longer than a standard greeting. Silvia followed, her embrace softer but deeper, her petite frame fitting perfectly into the crook of his arm. "You look relaxed, Tor," she whispered, her eyes scanning his face with a playful curiosity. "Almost too relaxed."
The trip back to the apartment was a logistical mission of indulgence. They hit a local supermarket, filling the cart with a chaotic mountain of gourmet cheeses, salted meats, and an obscene amount of chocolate to fuel the inevitable munchies. As they unloaded the groceries in the living room, the atmosphere was light and buzzing. Aurora, still vibrating with the energy of the trip, declared she couldn't stand another minute indoors. "I'm going to go see if the neighborhood is as wild as the brochures say," she chirped, giving Tor a cheeky wink and a squeeze of his arm before disappearing out the door.
We opened a botle of wine to start of the afternoon. Silvia poured two glasses and handed one to Tor with a knowing smile. They sank into the overstuffed sofa, the silence of the apartment feeling cozy and secluded now that they were together. Tor reached for his stash, pulling out a fresh, shimmering bud of a strain he hadn’t yet dared to try. As he meticulously rolled the joint, the pungent, earthy aroma filling the space between them, he looked at his sister. "You sure you don't want a hit? Just a little taste of the clouds?"
She gave a small, graceful shake of her head. "No thanks, honey. I like my edges a bit sharper for now," she chuckled, her voice warm and indulgent. "And please, don't you dare stop your little experiment just because we've arrived. I didn't fly all this way to be a killjoy. If this stuff is what's keeping you in such a blissful state, by all means, keep drifting. Aurora is the same; she’s far too curious for her own good to mind a bit of smoke in the air."
The front door didn't just open; it practically flew off the hinges as Aurora stumbled back into the apartment. She wasn't walking so much as orbiting the living room, her eyes glazed and shimmering with a heavy, blissful haze. "Hey, Uncle Tor!" she belted out, her voice trailing off into a giggle as she collapsed onto the sofa, her body landing with a soft, uncoordinated thud. She looked up at them, a goofy, wide-eyed grin plastered on her face, her cheeks flushed a deep, healthy pink. "Did you know... like, literally... there is a coffee shop just down the street? Just... right there!" She let out a loud, wheezing laugh, sinking deeper into the cushions as if the fabric were pulling her into a warm embrace.
Tor couldn't help but chuckle, the sound vibrating in his chest. "I had a feeling you wouldn't be able to resist," he said, leaning back and watching her struggle to maintain a seated position. Silvia, however, leaned forward, a flicker of maternal concern crossing her face. "Goodness, Aurora, you're absolutely hammered. Please be careful; you could have walked right into a canal in that state."
"When in Amsterdam...
You should just try it, Mom," Aurora giggled, "It’s so... relaxing".
Silvia hesitated, her gaze shifting from her dazed daughter to Tor, who was watching them with a lazy, amused grin. The tension of the last year—the divorce, the loneliness, the suffocating need to be the "perfect" parent—seemed to vibrate in the air, clashing with the heavy, sweet scent of the Indica. A slow, curious smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth. "Well," she whispered, her voice dipping into a sultry register, "if the local youth thinks it’s a spiritual experience, who am I to judge?" She sat down beside Tor, the heat of his leg pressing against hers. "Roll another one. Let's all share."
Sharing is caring, the 3 of them all slumped back on the couch. "Wow this strand was strong" Tor slured, and sugested that someone found a funny movie to stream to the flat screen. There was no volunteers. Just giggles.
"God, you weren't lying about the side effects," Silvia sighed. "Everything feels... electric. Like my skin is too tight for my body."
Tor and Aurora broke into a synchronized fit of giggles. Aurora, still half-buried in the couch cushions, peered up at her mother with a mischievous, glazed look. "Are you horny, Mom?" she chirped, the word *horny* hanging in the air, thick and unfiltered. Had we been sober this would have been an embarrassing moment, but we all just burst out laughing.
"Hey," Silvia said, her voice drifting like a slow-motion wave, "don't you dare laugh at me." She gave Aurora a look that was meant to be stern, but with her eyes half-lidded and a goofy, stoned smile plastered across her face, it looked more like a flirtation. She let out a soft, melodic giggle that vibrated in her chest. "The reason I got divorced wasn't because of sexual pressure from his side... god, it was the opposite, I haven't been fucked for months"
She shifted on the couch, her thigh rubbing against Tor’s with a slow, deliberate friction that sent a spark through his hazy mind. "Being married is after a while a galaxy apart from the fun you can have whenever you want," she continued, her voice dropping into a sultry, honest confession. But this?" She gestured vaguely to the room and the shared high. "This feels like the world is finally open again."
"Exactly," Tor chuckled, his voice sounding distant even to his own ears. "Amsterdam is a very liberal place to have to have all the fun you want." He looked from Silvia’s flushed face to Aurora’s shimmering eyes, the air between them thick with a shared, drug-induced honesty. The cannabis had stripped away the social veneers, leaving only a raw, humming curiosity.
The conversation drifted into a surreal, floating territory where the usual boundaries of family propriety simply dissolved. They traded stories that would have been scandalous in any other city, laughing about old flings and secret desires, their voices slurring into a warm, melodic chorus. Silvia confessed to a lifelong fascination with being seen, her eyes shimmering with a mix of cannabis-induced euphoria and a dormant exhibitionism that was finally waking up. Aurora, emboldened by the haze, teased her mother about her "hidden" side, while Tor just leaned back, basking in the electric atmosphere of their shared vulnerability.
"You know," Aurora murmured, her voice a sleepy, playful purr, "Uncle Tor has always been the hot one in the family. I used to wonder if he actually knew how to handle a woman, or if he was just all beard and muscles." She let out a little giggle that sounded like a secret, glancing at Tor with a predatory curiosity that made his blood hum.
Tor chuckled, the sound vibrating deep in his chest as he looked at Aurora’s mischievous expression. "Well," he slurred, leaning his head back into the sofa, "the problem with my love life is that I’ve always needed a girl who truly loves horses. My back has its own ideas about how things work; it often prevents me from performing the usual acrobatics. Most of the time, I just have to lay flat on my back and hope my partner is an experienced rider."
Aurora didn't just laugh; she practically doubled over, her breasts pressing against her knees as she shook with a manic, stoned glee. "Oh, Uncle Tor," she gasped, looking up at him with eyes that were wide and heavy-lidded, "you have no idea. I absolutely adore horses."
Silvia tried to look at her daughter with a stern look. but she also cracked up laughing. She told Aurora that she knew the look in her daughters eyes. "Don't you come looking for stallions during the night".
Aurora just gave her mother a stoned smile that was pure mischief. She looked at Tor, her eyes scanning his frame with a hunger that was no longer hidden, her gaze lingering on the bulge in his jeans as if she were mentally measuring the stallion for a ride.
The same heavy, electric tension that had been humming between them finally snapped when Silvia let out a long, shaky exhale. "Enough talking about stallions," she murmured, her voice thick and honeyed. "Roll another one, Tor. Let's get one last hit of the clouds in us and actually find a movie to watch before we all just drift away into the furniture."
"I've got this," Aurora announced, her voice a drowsy, feline purr. She crawled over their laps to reach her phone. She paused for a heartbeat, her chest heaving against Tor, before finally snagging her phone from the coffee table with a triumphant, giggling chirp.
She didn't retreat. Instead, she collapsed back into the center of them, draping herself across both of them. Her feet rested heavily on Silvia's lap, and her head sank deeply into the cradle of Tor’s thighs. As she settled, her cheek rested directly against the growing hardness in Tor's jeans. She didn't move away; instead, she let out a soft, contented sigh, leaning into the bulge as if it were a pillow.
Tor rolled a joint and they smoked it while the movie started. Aurora had found a mainstream erotic movie.
Aurora shifted and rolled on to her stomach and one hand disappeared under her skirt. She looked up at him, her eyes hooded and shimmering with a heavy, cannabis-induced hunger, and then she leaned in. She didn’t use her hands; she simply pressed her lips against the bulge of his crotch, her mouth molding perfectly to the shape of his hardness through the fabric. Tor let out a ragged gasp, his fingers curling into the sofa. Beside them, Silvia was drifting in her own private paradise, her eyes fixed on the screen but her hand absentmindedly sliding beneath her top to knead her own breasts, her nipples peaking through her dress as she let out a soft, rhythmic moan.
Aurora carefully bit down on his cock through his jeans.
Without a word, Tor reached down and zipped down. The metallic *zzzzip* sounded like a gunshot in the quiet room, and he freed himself, his cock springing outward, throbbing and fully engorged. Aurora didn't hesitate; she let out a low, guttural moan of approval, her eyes locking onto his for a split second—heavy-lidded and shimmering with lust—before she opened wide and swallowed him whole. The heat of her mouth was an immediate, wet vacuum, her tongue swirling around the head of his dick with a desperate, hungry energy.
The wet, rhythmic sounds of Aurora’s mouth working on him filled the room, competing with the soft moans emanating from the television. As Aurora’s head bobbed with a desperate, starving intensity, her free hand beneath her skirt became a blur of motion. Her fingers were diving deep and fast into her own soaking heat, her hips twitching in a frantic, uncoordinated dance of pleasure. Tor felt every ripple of her throat, the suction becoming an intoxicating vacuum that threatened to pull the breath right out of his lungs.
Beside him, Silvia had stopped pretending to watch the movie. She was leaning back, her chest heaving, her eyes wide and dilated filled with lust, staring transfixed at the sight of her daughter sucking her brother.
Silvia’s breath came in ragged, shallow hitches as the sight of Aurora’s mouth enveloping Tor’s cock acted like a catalyst, igniting the dormant fire the cannabis had been stoking. She pulled of her panties, spread her legs, and started to openly masturbate.
Driven by a surge of exhibitionist hunger, Silvia leaned over, her hand sliding under Aurora’s skirt. She didn't ask; she simply hooked her fingers into Aurora's panties and peeled them away, exposing the girl's soaking wet folds to the dim light of the living room. Silvia froze for a moment, her eyes widening as she stared directly into her daughter's glistening pussy, seeing the way the flesh pulsed in time with the rhythmic suction of the blowjob. The visual was an aphrodisiac of its own. Silvia began to alternate her gaze, shifting from the sight of Tor’s cock disappearing into Aurora’s throat to the sight of Aurora’s fingers frantically working her own clit.
Silvia’s breath hitched, a sharp contrast to the wet, sliding sounds of Aurora’s mouth. The sight of her daughter’s lips wrapped around Tor’s throbbing cock didn’t just spark a flicker of curiosity; it ignited a wildfire of raw, unadulterated naughtiness. The cannabis had dissolved the walls of propriety, leaving Silvia feeling exposed, hungry, and desperately needing to be part of the friction. She leaned forward, her petite breasts swaying, and reached out to stroke Aurora’s hair, her fingers trembling. "You're doing such a good job, baby," Silvia whispered, her voice a low, sultry rasp, "but you're leaving so much of him wanting."
Driven by a sudden, electric impulse, Silvia shifted her body, sliding across the leather of the sofa until she was positioned behind Tor. She didn't go for his cock; instead, she pressed her full, soft bust against his back, her nipples grazing his shoulder blades through his shirt. She reached around him, her small, manicured hand finding the gap between his chest and Aurora’s head, and began to knead his pectorals with a desperate intensity. The sensation of being sandwiched between two generations of the same breathtaking beauty sent a jolt of electricity through Tor’s spine, his hips beginning to thrust instinctively into Aurora’s mouth.
Aurora felt the shift in energy, the addition of her mother’s heat and scent filling the air with a heady mix of vanilla and musk. With a wet, popping sound, she pulled away from Tor's cock, a long string of saliva connecting her lips to the glistening head of his dick. She looked up at him, her eyes glazed and shimmering with a predatory hunger. "He's so big," she whimpered, her voice a dazed, cannabis-heavy purr. "Mom, look at him. He's practically begging for it." Without waiting for an answer, Aurora shifted her position, crawling upward until she was straddling Tor’s lap, her soaking wet pussy pressing firmly against his thigh as she reached down to guide his hardness toward her center.
Silvia let out a low, guttural moan, her own fingers working frantically between her legs.
The air in the room was thick enough to taste, a heavy blend of pungent cannabis, expensive perfume, and the raw, salty scent of arousal. Aurora didn’t give Tor a chance to breathe before she hiked her skirt up to her waist and lowered herself onto him. She took him in one slow, shuddering slide, her tight, wet walls gripping him with a fierce, vacuum-like pressure that made his vision swim. She threw her head back, a loud, unrestrained moan ripping from her throat as she began to ride him with a frantic, uncoordinated rhythm, her breasts bouncing wildly before her eyes.
Silvia wasn’t content to be a spectator. Driven by the aphrodisiac hum in her veins, she slid forward, her petite frame molding against Tor’s side. She reached over, her hand guiding Aurora’s hips to slow down, and then she leaned in, capturing Tor’s mouth in a deep, hungry kiss that tasted of wine and longing. As she kissed him, Silvia shifted her weight, sliding her own soaking wet center over the side of Tor’s thigh, rubbing her clit against his denim-clad leg in a desperate search for friction.
The living room had transformed into a blur of friction and heavy breathing, the movie on the screen now nothing more than a background of rhythmic moans and flashing colors. Tor felt like he was drowning in a sea of soft skin and wet heat. Aurora was a frantic, desperate force on top of him, her internal muscles clamping around him in pulsing waves that felt like a series of electric shocks. She wasn't just riding him; she was clinging to him, her fingernails digging into his shoulders as she chased a peak that the cannabis had made feel like a distant, shimmering horizon.
"Oh god, Tor... you're so fucking deep," Aurora gasped, her voice a shattered whisper. She accelerated her pace, her hips blurring in a frantic, slapping rhythm. Every time she slammed down, her breasts collided with his chest, the sensation sending surges of pleasure straight to his brain. She was shaking now, her entire body vibrating with a tension that was becoming unbearable. With one final, guttural scream, Aurora arched her back, her eyes rolling back into her head as a massive, soaking orgasm ripped through her. She collapsed against his chest, her breath coming in ragged, sobbing hitches, her internal walls twitching around him in a delicious, rhythmic squeeze.
Tor lay pinned under Aurora’s shaking frame, his lungs burning and his heart hammering against his ribs. The silence that followed her climax was heavy, filled only by the sound of their synchronized, ragged breathing. He felt the slick, hot residue of her release coating his shaft, the sensation making his own pulse throb violently in his cock. He was on the precipice, the cannabis-fueled sensitivity turning every micro-movement of her internal muscles into a tidal wave of pleasure.
Silvia, however, was far from finished. The sight of her daughter’s total surrender had pushed her over the edge of her own restraint. She was hovering beside them, her face flushed a deep, vivid crimson, her eyes shimmering with a raw, exhibitionist hunger that the Indica had unlocked. She wasn't just aroused; she was starving. Her hand was still working frantically between her legs, the wet, slapping sound of her fingers against her own clit punctuating the quiet room.
Silvia let out a sharp, jagged moan, her body arching as she felt her own climax hovering just out of reach, teased by the sight of Tor and Aurora. The cannabis had amplified the visual pleasure into something tactile; she could almost feel the friction of their union on her own skin. She shifted, her petite frame trembling as she looked at Tor’s throbbing hardness, now slick with Aurora’s release. The raw, masculine scent of him, mixed with the heavy musk of the room, acted like a siren song to her depleted senses.
"My turn," she whimpered, the words barely escaping her lips in a breathless, needy rasp.
Silvia didn’t wait for an invitation. She slid over Aurora’s limp, exhausted body, her petite frame moving with a newfound, predatory grace. As she shifted, her breasts grazed across Tor’s chest, the friction sending a jolt of electricity through his already overstimulated nerves. She looked down at him, her eyes hooded and shimmering with a mix of cannabis-induced euphoria and raw, unchecked lust. The polished, put-together woman who had stepped off the plane was gone, replaced by a woman who wanted to be consumed.
"Look at you," she whispered, her voice a sultry, ragged purr. "Still so hard. Still so ready." She reached down, her small, soft hand wrapping around the base of his cock, feeling the violent throb of his pulse beneath her palm.
Silvia didn’t hesitate. She guided herself forward, her petite frame trembling with a hunger that felt like it was vibrating in her very marrow. She lowered herself slowly, the head of Tor’s cock meeting the soaking wet entrance of her heat. The first touch was an electric shock; the cannabis had turned her nerve endings into raw wires, and the sensation of his thickness pressing against her was almost too much to bear. She let out a long, shuddering moan, her head falling back as she slid down an inch, then two, the tight grip of her walls stretching to accommodate him.
"Oh, god... Tor," she whimpered, her voice a broken melody of need. She paused for a moment, her chest heaving, her nipples grazing his skin as she looked down at where they were joined. The visual of her own pale skin being stretched by his dark-blondness was a trigger that sent a surge of exhibitionist heat through her. She began to move, her hips tracing a slow, grinding circle that maximized the friction. She wasn't just riding him; she was searching for the exact angle that would make her world explode.
Silvia’s movements were slow, deliberate, and agonizingly wet. She leaned forward, her full breasts crushing against Tor’s chest, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps against his neck. Every downward slide of her hips felt like a revelation, the thickness of him filling her to the point of bursting, stretching her petite frame with a delicious, heavy pressure.
"You're so... thick," she whimpered, her voice a broken, sultry rasp. "I've forgotten what this feels like... god, I've fucking missed this."
Silvia’s rhythm shifted from a slow, searching grind to a desperate, frantic pace. Her nails digging into his skin as she slammed her petite frame down onto him, her internal muscles clamping around his shaft in tight, rhythmic pulses that felt like a vice.
"Right there... oh god, Tor, right there!" she cried out, her voice breaking into a ragged, needy wail.
Silvia’s movements became a blur of frantic, wet friction. She wasn't just riding him; she was clinging to him as if he were the only solid thing in a spinning world. Her internal walls were pulsing around him in tight, rhythmic spasms, each one drawing a jagged, guttural moan from Tor’s throat. The sensation was overwhelming, a cocktail of drug-induced sensitivity and the raw power of Silvia’s tight, desperate grip.
"I can't... I can't hold it!" Silvia shrieked, her voice cracking as she hit the apex of her pleasure. She slammed herself down one last time, her body arching in a violent, shivering peak. As she came, her internal muscles clamped onto him with an intensity that felt like a vacuum, drawing the seed right out of him. Tor let out a roar, his hips bucking upward as he flooded her, the heat of his release surging into her with a series of powerful, rhythmic thumps. Silvia collapsed onto him, her chest heaving, her skin slick with sweat and the evidence of their shared explosion.
The silence that followed was heavy, punctuated only by the wet, sliding sounds of their bodies slowly detaching. They lay in a tangled heap of limbs and damp skin. Tor felt like he was floating six inches above the sofa, his muscles humming with a residual electric charge that made even the slight breeze from the air conditioner feel like a caress.
The silence in the living room was thick, saturated with the scent of sex. For a few minutes, nobody moved. They remained as a single, breathing entity of tangled limbs and flushed skin, the only sound the rhythmic thumping of three hearts slowing down in unison.
"I think," Aurora murmured, her voice a sleepy, honeyed rasp, "that the sofa is officially too small for the three of us." She giggled and grabbed Tors cock. I'll suck you in the bed she laughed dragging him to the king sized bed.