My name is Oleg, I'm 34. I'm a clinical psychologist by training, but I've been doing field therapy for eight years now, leaving the office. I lead small groups into the mountains, the taiga, and sometimes even the Altai Mountains. I specialize in working with psychosomatics and body blocks. I've long noticed that when you take someone out of their usual context—without mirrors, makeup, or social media—something truly happens to them. Especially with women. Especially with those who've been carrying around a shell of "I'm not pretty enough," "I'm shy," and "nobody wants me" for years. The idea of creating an off-site intensive program has matured. Five days in the mountains of Karelia, offline, focusing on body acceptance and liberation. No offices, hotel rooms, or other frills. Just forests, lakes, tents, and a sauna on the shore. I called the program "Reboot." A month before the start, I launched an ad through my former
I’ve been looking for extra cash, so when my friend Maria told me the country club she works at needed another cart girl,I jumped on it right away. She said it was easy money: “Just be cute, smile a lot, wear a short skirt and a tight top that shows off your tits, bring the guys some drinks and their clubs, and the tips will roll in. Easy.” Friday morning I rode with Maria to the country club. I wore my shortest white tennis skirt, a tight pink polo with the top buttons undone, and a tiny white thong underneath the skirt. Maria laughed and said, “Oh, Kayla, you’re gonna make good tips today.” I got paired with Mike and Dave, two regulars in their early 50s. All three of us piled into one cart, me sitting in the front next to Mike and Dave in the back seat. At first, everything was pretty normal. I flirted a bit, laughed at their jokes, "accidentally" bent over so they could enjoy looking at my ass, and undid another button from my top. I was already getting a little thrilled by how
I was sitting in the office until late, as usual. The computer light was already glaring, and it had long since gotten dark outside. Elena Sergeevna, my boss, was usually the last one to leave, but that evening she suddenly summoned me. "Come in," she said curtly into the chat. Nothing out of the ordinary, I thought. Another report, which I must have screwed up somewhere again. I walked in and immediately caught that scent—her expensive perfume and something else, barely perceptible, that always took my breath away. She was sitting at her desk in her usual office attire: a black leather skirt hugging her hips so tightly it seemed about to split, a white blouse unbuttoned one button too many, and under the desk—those same black stockings and high-heeled shoes. Black, patent leather, with a pointed toe. I tried not to look. It didn't work out well. "Sit down," she said, without looking up from the screen. Her voice was even, but it already had that note that usuall
Hi! About six months ago, something nasty happened to me. On the one hand, it was quite scary and humiliating, but on the other, I still sometimes think about it at night and have already come several times while furiously rubbing my clit in the shower. That's probably why I finally decided to post it here. My name is Anya, I'm 23 years old, tall, slender, and brunette (177 cm tall), with long legs, a flat stomach, and a fairly athletic figure—I go to the gym a couple of times a week. My breasts are a C-plus size, firm, with small pink nipples that stand out clearly under my clothes. My face is ordinary but pretty—guys often stare at me on public transport. I work as a manager at a Moscow hypermarket, but I live in the suburbs, in a small village about forty minutes away by commuter train. Every day after my shift, I take the last "work" commuter train at 11:40 PM. It's usually almost empty—just the occasional passenger and me in my short sports skirt and tight,
Olga worked as a senior manager in a large IT office in a business center on the outskirts of the city. She was twenty-five, and for the past six months, her back had been killing her: endless hours at the computer, poor posture, and stress. A friend recommended a private chiropractor's office on the ground floor of the same center. "There's a great chiropractor there; after seeing him, I felt like I was born again." Olga made an appointment. The first time, she entered a small but very clean office with soft lighting and the scent of essential oils. Instead of the woman she expected, she was greeted by a man of about thirty-seven—tall, broad-shouldered, wearing a white short-sleeved T-shirt and scrub pants. He had a short haircut, light stubble, and a confident gaze. He introduced himself as Alexander and calmly explained that he owned the office alone, and that his partner was on maternity leave. Olga felt a little tense, but decided to let it slide. He performed a
This was probably the most unexpected hookup I ever had in college, it felt like it truly came out of nowhere. I have a friend from high school named Austin. Austin came from a really good family, they were all nice people. We both grew up religious and at the time he was still going to church with his family every Sunday…that’s his mom, dad and his older sister. His sister is Brooke. She was a good, wholesome girl. She’d always done really well in high school and was president of the student council my junior year, when she was a senior. She’s pretty. She’s a brunette of course, with a full body, nice breasts and a great ass. During this time, Austin lived at home still and we went to college together. Our friend group would sometimes go hang out over there on the weekends. Brooke was away at college in a different city, but would come back to town for big holidays or if it was a long weekend. This time she was back in town for Memorial Day weekend. Brooke and I had spoken a bit bef
It had been three months since Alina broke up with Egor. The twenty-eight-year-old fitness trainer with a perfectly toned figure, toned abs, and a firm butt had firmly decided she wouldn't be in a new relationship. But, as they say, you can't fight nature. Daily workouts to the point of exhaustion and a vibrator in the shower afterwards barely saved her. Alina was wet at night, waking up from wet dreams, but a relationship? No, she didn't want that. That evening, the gym had already closed to clients. Alina decided to stay and work out herself, relieving the pent-up stress of a hard day. She changed into short, tight shorts and a sports bra that barely contained her firm, C-cup breasts. The gym was empty, the lights dim, and only the hum of the air conditioner. But when she emerged from the women's locker room, she saw Egor—her ex-lover, the owner of the gym—lingering in the office. Next to him stood his best friend, Ruslan—a true muscle-bound bodybuilder, six-foot-s
I was on my stomach on a towel in a black bikini with my top untied because I hate tan lines, half reading something on my phone, half just listening to everyone talk. The bikini bottoms were doing what bikini bottoms do on a figure like mine, which is not much, and I was aware of that in the comfortable way you get when you've made your peace with having a lot of ass. Caleb was down at the water with a couple of the guys throwing a football around in the surf. I was not paying attention to this. I was definitely not watching him come back up the beach shaking water out of his hair, board shorts low on his hips, stomach flat, shoulders broader than I remembered from the last time I'd seen him. Looking like that. He dropped onto the towel next to mine and stole a chip from the bag by my elbow. I was still on my stomach, top untied, and when I shifted to look at him I felt the sides of it fall away and had to press back down quickly. He was very politely looking at my face when I glanc
Château de Valmont, hidden in the dense vineyards of the Loire, was transformed every April into a temple for the most discerning collectors. The stone vaults of the main hall trembled with hushed voices, and the air was thick with the aroma of aged Cabernet, old oak, and expensive tobacco. I, a twenty-four-year-old sommelier, was working at this private auction for only my second time. My task was simple and honorable: introduce the lots, describe the terroir, pour into glasses, and ensure that not a drop was wasted. None of the guests noticed how I nervously twitched my fingers behind my back as the price of yet another bottle of 1947 soared. The auction proceeded as usual—the gavel banged, the glasses clinked, and I stood at the long table with decanters, smiling and nodding. No one suspected that below me, two floors down, in the ancient wine cellar, a completely different game was already underway. After the last lot, as guests began to disperse to the terrace with cigars, the
The train pulled out, and my pussy was already wet, anticipating the journey. Two days to Vladivostok, a compartment, a ticket for the top berth. I spotted my neighbors right away: across from him was a sturdy man of about forty, lean, with sinewy arms, clearly the type who spends his life outside the office. Next to him was a younger guy, just a boy, about twenty, with a hungry gaze that immediately landed on my breasts the moment I took off my jeans. And from below, in the side bunk, a third man was already peering in—a demobilized soldier, judging by his haircut and mannerisms, returning home after a year of abstinence. I adjusted the strap of my top, letting the lace of my bra peek out just enough to make the boy gulp, and climbed onto my bunk, wiggling my legging-clad ass in front of my fellow passengers. The evening promised to be languid. By ten thirty, the train's whistle was humming steadily, and the main lights in the car were dimmed, leaving only blue nightlights. The
The pool is a special aquarium in the evenings. By evening, the water is as smooth as glass, the lights are dimmed, and only the steady hum of the pumps breaks the silence. My group of adults had left about twenty minutes ago, and I was about to close the door when she appeared on the edge. Marina. The only one of them all wearing a tailored swimsuit, but it fit so well that every man on the path instinctively held his breath as she emerged from the water. She was in her early thirties, with a ring on her finger and a son whom she sometimes brought along. She was married, happy, and fit. Judging by the occasional exchange, everything was going well with her husband: a comfortable house, a mortgage, and a vacation in Turkey. But there was something else about her. A kind of hungry pucker at the corner of her mouth when she thought no one was watching. The way she lingered after practice, swimming closer than necessary when I explained stroke technique. That evening she asked me to he
As the week went on, Kylie and I kept hanging out, but kept things pretty tame. Just making out and some tame groping. We heard there was a night coming up where everyone in the camp would be gathered in a place on the opposite side of the plaza from where we were staying. I shot Kylie a look and she returned it and I knew that we were going to fuck that night. We went about our duties with our assignments around the camp, I tried to volunteer extra when I could just to help out. One of my shifts was again supervising at the building where me and Kylie had our encounter. This time Lori was there. Lori was the other brunette I met the first day along with Kylie and the blonde girl, Sam. We’d been talking a bit, and we’d worked a couple shifts in the same places, but not necessarily together like we were that day. I was chatting with her, learning about her and her life. She was really interesting and cool. She liked to draw, paint, sew….anything creative. I like doing creative projects
When \[m\]y wife Jane was pregnant with our second child we met a couple (Steve and Ann) at the antenatal classes and became good friends with them. They also had another child about the same age as our eldest, so we would go to each others houses a lot for them to play together. As the women couldn't drink we got into the habit of playing board games of an evening. We would settle the kids in bed for a sleep over and mainly chat but play various games. This was before the game Cards Against Humanity was launched but we had a very similar type of card game that asked probing questions and revealed peoples secrets and desires. We quickly learnt that everyone around the table was both a bit kinky and open minded. One question was if we had ever played Spin the Bottle. We all admitted we did and reminisced our past experiences. Steve suggested we should play it. We all politely declined in front of our partners but we were all secretly keen and didn't need much persuasion. My wife was c
This vacation was supposed to be Roma and I's salvation. Or at least an attempt to mend what had been falling apart at the seams for the last six months. Constant arguments, misunderstandings, a cold bed—the standard fare of a five-year relationship crisis. The idea of a wild trek in the mountains was his. "Let's get a change of scenery, test our limits, no internet—just us and nature," he urged me, scrolling through a website offering extreme tours. Tired of the office and the drab city, I reluctantly agreed, not even suspecting how this decision would turn out. The organizer, a certain Viktor, met us in a battered but powerful SUV at the designated spot—a rickety sign marking the border of the national park. He was a man in his forties, lean, with sun-bleached blond hair and a penetrating gaze from his light-gray eyes that made me feel a little uneasy. His partner, introduced as Zakhar, sat silently behind the wheel and nodded briefly, a smoldering cigarette stil
In college I volunteered at a Christian summer camp with a few other college-aged people. They called us sponsors like it was AA. A buddy of mine, Zack, was volunteering and said I should come along because the camp was in a cool place with spots to hike, swim and there was a plaza with a couple stores where a lot of girls our age hung out. We had an orientation meeting for all the sponsors at the camp that everyone had to attend. I found Zack when I got to the meeting place and he saw a few people he knew that were also volunteering and said we should go join them. We walked over and the group had two more guys I vaguely knew through Zack and three girls I never met. The first one I met was a blonde named Sam, then a brunette named Kylie and lastly another brunette named Lori. I felt bad when I met Lori because Kylie had my full attention from the beginning and I don’t know if I even told Lori my name. Kylie had an emo type of vibe. Not like crazy, full on Hot Topic, but she wore a
Ira fundamentally disliked visiting the Mukhins. More than that—every such trip evoked a dull, gnawing irritation in the pit of her stomach, which, as a well-bred woman, she had spent years learning to disguise behind a polite smile. The source of this irritation had a specific name: Vadim. Her husband's old college friend, and also the main witness at their wedding, was the man who had once committed an unforgivable act against Ira, which she preferred not to mention to anyone, not even Oleg. She simply shoved the incident into the back of her mind, sprinkled it with everyday life, and pretended it never happened. It worked poorly, however—whenever they were in the same company again, everything would come back to her in detail: the scent of his cologne, his sticky gaze, and her own humiliating numbness. But Oleg adored these forays of the "old guard"; for him, they were a breath of fresh air amidst his dreary accounting, and refusing him meant causing a scandal with un
Back in college I was always meeting new people, whether it was in classes or hanging out on campus. I had a friend named Jenny I’d met playing volleyball by her dorm on campus. She had a break in classes the same time as me and we'd often hang out in the university center to get lunch or do homework until our next classes. Jenny was in a sorority and it was pretty common for us to see her sisters while we were hanging out and I’d met a few of them and they were always pretty nice. Vanessa was not. Vanessa was a brunette with dyed hair making it very dark red. She was about 5’5”, tan and buxom. We met and she was very curt when she spoke to me, but very open with Jenny. I chalked it up to her not knowing me very well yet. After some time she’d still not really opened up around me much, though I tried to ask her questions and get to know her. She even outright ignored me at times. I always kept a friendly tone in contrast to her unwelcoming demeanor. I started to keep it more cordial
"It's so stuffy," Zhanna kicked the box of shower stalls and reached for the collar of her uniform shirt. "Denis, are you serious? Working my ass off until the morning?" Denis, a young manager with a neat haircut, clinked the metal shutters on the front door, locking the Plumbing and Tile store from the inside. "An order from above. A re-stocking of the entire 'Bathroom Everything' department. And yes, Zhanna, don't slog, just work. The results will determine which of you will become the senior salesperson. I need someone responsible." Kira emerged from behind the faucet rack, wiping her hands with a rag. The curvy blonde, her vest strained against her ample bust, chuckled, crossing her arms under her chest. "Did you hear that, Zhannochka? A responsible person. Not someone who just blabbers." "I'm just talking about what's for sale," the skinny brunette snapped, adjusting her short haircut. "Buyers run away from you
This story happened to me the summer of my fourth year at agricultural technical school. I had just turned nineteen. My major was agricultural mechanization, and I was sent for an internship at a large dairy complex near Poltava. For two months, I had to tinker with the machinery: milking machines, tractors, and feed dispensers. Every day after my shift, I was black from machine oil, dust, and straw. The workers' quarters had two showers—one for men and one for women. The men's shower was old, the pipes rusty, and the hot water only came on after the evening milking, when all the men had finished. The women's shower, however, was kept constantly heated because the milkmaids and the processing plant operators arrived at different times. I quickly realized it was easier to shower there alone before the shift ended. I always left an hour or an hour and a half before the other student interns, so no one would catch me. The shower was simple: a long room with six stalls, a co
Disclaimer: names were changed for privacy. During the timeline of the story, I was 20. My very first threesome occurred at the end of a house party very shortly after I moved to Australia. Pat, my boyfriend at the time, thought that bringing me to his bestfriend's 21st birthday was the most efficient way to introduce me to his crew. Honestly, it was quite daunting. Partying at that scale was so so new to me because I was, after all, raised into a very conservative community back in the Philippines. I wouldn't exactly say I was innocent because while Pat was my first boyfriend, he was a white Aussie with a massive cock who has been fucking me raw since we got together. Anything beyond that though, my moral upbringing always held me back. But something snapped at this party. I guess it was me realising that I was thousands of kilometres away from home and that freedom needed to be used. By the time everybody has either gone home or has passed out inside, I was left curled up on th