Mutual benefits in Benelux

I had three dates with #19. Three most wonderful dates. I wish it had been more, but I feel very lucky, nevertheless, for having had them.
First date:
We had arranged that he was to pick me up at the airport, so I positioned myself on the spot where I was supposed to be waiting for him. A silver Merc (SL 55, yea baby!) pulled up in front of me and that was the first time I saw Jean for real. Jean was an entrepreneur and quite successful at that (meaning he was filthy rich and had an insanely indecent life-style). He took me to his place (which must have cost the national debt of Brazil), where he jumped into the shower and we hit the town less than half an hour later for an early dinner. The place he took me to was, just a short walk from his across the Grote Markt, lovely and cosy and looked like someone's sitting room. I was surprised when he took my hand a couple of times through dinner already, but had no objections to him fast-tracking things a bit. Our conversation consisted mainly of me answering all his questions about me and general first date trivia. I had been unbearably nervous the whole day but half a bottle of red and a g & t did contribute to loosening me up a little. Nevertheless, a huge rush surged through me when Jean kissed me on the way from the restaurant to a bar, just stopped me in the middle of the street and full-on snogged and embraced me. Wonderful. So from then onwards we alternated between making out and drinking (him brandy, me Rob Roy or Manhattan), took our act to a second bar (brandy, calvados, champagne, beer) and even a third on the way home (don't remember what we had). Here things get a fair bit hazy for me as I was so shit-faced. I dearly wanted him to fuck me in public, there was a semi-hidden place across the street from his place but he chickened out, but in his garage entrance (on the right was the elevator that took you up to his place but if you walked on straight, there was the garage, sort of hard to explain) he took off my knickers and screwed me there (standing up) so fair play to him. We went up, to the master bedroom and continued fucking, but I don't remember much of that. What I do remember is that I was riding him at some point and he did the most inappropriate thing you could do on a first date (apart from "Let's do anal!" and helping yourself to the other person's fridge contents or reading their bank statement). "I love you." he sez. "No, you don't!" sez I. "I love you." he insisted. "Argh." Well. A couple of days later I confronted him with that and he didn't recall saying it but reasoned that he was pretty much 'in' the moment then so that must have been why he said it (he had been shit-faced too). We shagged a little more and he gave me a really damn good thrashing with his belt. A thrashing so good, in fact, that I had a huge bruise in my cleavage and the bruises on my bum where purple and black and about the size of a manhole. My little 'souvenir' lasted me almost a fortnight. In the wee morning hours we fucked again. The time to get up arrived, I had my shower first and was already dressed when he got out. I gave him a last blow job (him standing, me kneeling - my fave) and the number of times he came totaled three then. Jean was the first person I had whose come didn't taste like chlorine or just plain disgusting. It even had a very pleasant taste. He got dressed, too, and we popped in to his home office a couple of floors below where he picked up some stuff and handed me an envelope. A little later we went out for some breakfast and then he dropped me off at the airport again. I was running quite late for the flight, luckily I was checked in since the previous day and had time left to indulge in some duty-free shopping. Although the first thing I did after entering the airport was rush to the loos to check my envelope and indeed, the was a wad of crisp, fragrant 200 euro bills inside (didn't I rejoice?). Happily, I boarded the flying LH cattle-truck (for lack of a better description, 'airplane' is certainly unfitting) and happened to be on the same flight as Owen Wilson, who got in last and sat at the very very back. Back in Munich, whom did the officers stop at immigration but me. I was ordered into the room where they search your shit and the guy wanted to know whether I had a lot of cash on me. "Um, well, depends what you reckon is 'a lot'." I said. Apparently, 'a lot' means 10k. I happened to have 'a lot less' on me but it's good to know that you aren't allowed to carry more than 9999,99 euros around. And cocky as I am I asked "So, how come you picked me out, is it because I look like a hooker?". The bloke said something about standard procedure but in the end it was I, who strutted their stuff through the airport, wearing fishnets and high-heels, huge sunglasses, a fur collar and only hand luggage.
Second date:
I hate taking the bus from the gate to the cattle-truck. Unfortunately, they are always parked on an outside position and there's really no getting around that. So I went down the spiral staircase tarmac-wards when the bloke who was a couple of feet ahead of me turned his head up to get a full visual of what was under my dress (black lacy thong and Fogal fishnet hold-ups). And he did so every time the stairs turned. The cheek of him! On the bus he had the nerve to grin at me and although he got off ages before myself, he still somehow happened to be behind me while I clambered up the rickety stairs into the plane. He was seated three or four rows in front of me and when he turned around for another gawk at me I flipped him off and mouthed 'fuck you' at him. What a loser (to be fair, he did resemble Richard Gere, but still!). After landing he dogged me all the way through the airport, I only managed to shake him off when I got into a taxi to meet Jean at his office. On the way to his place we started playing with each other and as soon as he pulled into the garage he whipped his cock out, for me to suck. Then he fucked me a little bit leaning against the car and I continued sucking him in the elevator (there's a big mirror in there). In his home office he checked emails and stock market and took my picture while I sucked him. I was still extremely nervous around him and felt like I was drunk already (although I was 100 per cent sober), he always gave me such a rush, with his charisma and everything. So while he was screwing me again on one of the big white leather settees I requested that he came, I was dying for a drink. So he manoeuvred me into a kneeling position and with the camera still in his hand he jerked off into my mouth and commanded me to stick out my tongue and ordered that I was not to swallow the come until he said so (then and there was the birth of my first cum-shot clip). For dinner, we went to a place near the river and after he finished his JD, Jean told me that he was already drunk (he had just got in from NY that morning). We inhaled a bottle of red (Jean also inhaled his food) and then I finally got my first 'funny' beer (a lambic beer), for I had been pestering him about wanting one ever since the first date. We went on to a bar (Jean appeared to be as fond of the sauce as me) for a couple of drinks, brandy for him, Manhattan for me and some light making out. After a brief stop at yet another bar (or pub) we retreated to his place where he gave me a golden shower in the shower and we went to bed, we were both pretty pissed (no pun intended). Around six in the morning we had another shag and he jerked off into my mouth again and it was pretty much the same procedure as the time before, shower, dress, go down to home office, me receive envelope, out for breakfast, drive to his office where we parted and I got into a taxi for the airport. Minor incident at the security check was that my bag was searched and they sent the vibrator that I had with me (upon Jean's request) through the x-ray again, luckily I had it wrapped in a dust-bag and thus avoided a compromising situation.
Third date:
I met Jean at his office again, this time he had his A8 L there ("You probably think this car is boring." - "Yes, I do."). Hand at each others' crotch again we drove to his place. In the garage he took his cock out and I sucked him a little in the car and outside of it he pulled down my knickers and fucked me for a bit. He pulled out, "Clean it." he ordered and I sucked him some more. In the home office again, Jean checked emails and stock market and then had me on all fours in the middle of the office. He brought a pink butt-plug (especially purchased for me), lubed me up and eased it into my bum. For a while, he screwed me doggie-style, then took the plug out and fucked my arse. It didn't last very long, though, he had a big cock and I am not yet accomplished in the arts of the anal. We jumped into the shower and afterward I sucked him and licked his arse for a bit until (Jean sent me a cum-shot clip before the date and said that we would do that as well, it was a guy jerking off into a glass and the girl drank the come from it) he got his camera out again (he had taken my picture sucking him and with the butt-plug in, too) and had me kneeling in front of him, jerked off into a tumbler and had me drink it (cum-shot clip #2 for me). He also praised my new tongue and nipple piercing I had by then, especially the tongue-stud which comes in very handy at blow jobs. That was our play-time concluded and we headed out for dinner, inhaled a bottle of red again and went on to a bar for a drink. This date wasn't as wild, drink-wise, as the ones before, as he had to attend an important meeting the next morning. We went home quite early, but a little jarred nonetheless. Then, in the heat of the moment, I accidentally hit Jean in the balls and he was in such pain, he had to throw up, the poor guy. That somehow put a stopper to further activities that night and I didn't get my golden shower. But we still fucked in the morning, prior to getting up and I sucked him until he gushed his come into my mouth. Same procedure after that, shower, dress, pick up stuff in home office, me receive envelope, out for breakfast. His meeting was quite early, so Jean and I parted downtown, as I still had plenty of time on my hands until I had to be at the airport. So I blundered around for some time, but I was so knackered, having had to get up really early, that I caught a taxi to the airport and had a kip on the seats of my gate, like a homeless person.
So this was Jean. One of the best (if not the best) people I have ever had the honour to encounter. While sleeping, he always took me into his arms and although I toss and turn alot, he always embraced me once again (sigh...). But, alas, no more.