The Weekend Guest Pt. 01

Note - The events related here were around ten years ago. My wife Sara and I had moved to Amsterdam when the business we worked for relocated an office from the south of England to take advantage of lower business taxes. We both got a relocation package, so we were living in some style in a large apartment overlooking the Amstel River. Around forty staff and their families moved over, and we spent a lot of time socializing together, especially in the first months we were there. This particular weekend, we had arranged to have Stuart, a friend and colleague stay with us. He had moved over with his wife and a new baby, and they were having a tough time of it. His wife and child had just gone back to the UK to spend some time with her family, so he was stuck on his own in a house in the commuter belt, miles away from the city. Sara and I had talked about if we wanted to go further with him than just sightseeing and bars, and while Sara fancied him, she wasn't sure if she wanted to mix our business and personal lives.

To describe us; I'm pretty average - 5'9" (quite small in the Netherlands), skinny/wiry depending on if you are feeling kind. Sara is, in my opinion, a stunner. She paid her way through university working part-time modelling lingerie for catalogues, or 'big bras for big girls' as she puts it. Sara is 5'7", has blonde shoulder-length hair, flawless skin, a pretty, 'girl-next-door' face, and the body of a 50's movie star; big tits