OKAY SO I need to post about this because I've been dying to tell someone and I literally cannot tell anyone I know in real life so basically people on here dared me to go to class with my butt plug in and no panties under my skirt and I said I wouldn't do it and then I did it because apparently I have no self control whatsoever 🫠 I picked the least short skirt I own because I was TERRIFIED, like genuinely walking out of my apartment I almost turned around three times, but I didn't and oh my god you guys first of all the plug. sitting down. EVERY SINGLE TIME. I made this little sound in my first class when I dropped into my chair and the girl next to me looked at me and I wanted to actually dissolve into the floor. I told her I tweaked my back. she nodded. she did not believe me. and the no panties thing?? I was so wet within like the first hour that I was genuinely paranoid every time I stood up, like I was walking so carefully, taking these tiny steps, terrified that somehow ever
The steam was so thick it was hard to see the face opposite. The guys and I had had a wonderful steam bath, drank a couple of beers, and were now lounging in the anteroom. My Verochka, my beloved wife, brought us some cold kvass. She was wearing only a short silk robe, which she pulled loosely around herself, barely covering her tempting breasts. My friends, Kolyan, Tolyan, and Seryoga, grinned lecherously. In the bathhouse, after the heat, the blood rushes, and desires intensify. Kolyan, the most daring of my friends, grabbed Vera's hand. "Why does your husband let you bathe alone, such a beauty? Let us at least check if you've washed properly." With these words, his rough paw slid under my wife's robe and greedily squeezed my wife's firm breast. Vera gasped softly, but didn't pull her hand away. She merely glanced reproachfully in my direction. But I pretended to be completely absorbed in my kvass. Then Tolyan, taking my silence as consent, came up behi
\*Names changed and some dialog altered for clarity\* \- "So let me get this straight. You want me to turn OFF my A/C." Becca nodded. "Uh-huh." "...until it's 85 degrees in here." Another nod. "Yup." "And THEN, you want *ME*. To give *YOU*. A massage." Becca sighed. "I know, I know. I feel terrible asking you to turn your place into a sauna, but my roommates would never let me." I opened my mouth to respond, but closed it again, contemplating my words. In truth, the thought of steaming up my apartment in the middle of July was strange, but far from the part of the request that tripped me up. Becca and I had been friends since college. We started out as two peas in a big pod of a friend group, hanging out at bars or house parties or tailgates. After college, we ended up back in the same vicinity at the start of last year. Without the social blanket of a large friend group, we were forced to get to know each other in a more personal way. Breaking down those initial walls was cer
okay so I need to talk about something I tried a few weeks ago because I've been thinking about it constantly and I feel like not enough girls know this is an option. I'd read about broken orgasms, the concept of bringing a guy right to the edge repeatedly without letting him finish, which apparently causes him to leak and drain gradually, and when he's finally empty you climb on and he can last basically forever because there's nothing left to come with. I filed it away for a while and then one evening with my fwb I decided to just try it. I told him I was going to be in charge tonight and he needed to do exactly what I said and he agreed immediately because of course he did. I started with my hand, slow and easy, getting him hard, and then built the pace up until I could feel him getting close, that specific tension in him, his breathing changing, his cock getting harder and starting to leak pre-cum at the tip. right at the edge I stopped completely. just let go. he made this abso
This is a real story of a an encounter in the danish capital city Copenhagen (I am not mentioning any names). Despite their shyness, it is well known that Scandinavian women are way more opened with sexuality than women from other parts of EU. As a foreigner I had only heard from friends their experiences but never experienced it myself… …until my breakup with my ex. I decided to install Hinge, a local app and immediately matched with a Scandinavian baddy. I am 28 years old. She was 23, looked very fit, great body and beautiful face with blonde hair and blue eyes. I started texting her as an icebreaker if we should get a matching sunburn together as we both had something mentioning sunburns in our respective descriptions. After texting a bit back and forth we decide to meet up the next evening at a park in the center for a walk. As soon as we meet and we started discussing & flirting, tension was on. I could sense in the air that there was something. We then went into the close
Thursday. I stopped by to see my old friend, German Borisovich—we went to medical school together, but he'd later gone into private practice. He'd opened a small office on the outskirts of town, where he saw patients with the most delicate problems. German was a forty-five-year-old man, lean, with long, musical fingers and a perpetually squinting gaze that somehow made his patients uneasy. His white coat fit him perfectly, revealing a starched shirt underneath. I'd just dropped in for a chat, a cup of coffee from his old Turkish coffee pot—the office hours were already over, and he'd dismissed the nurse. We were chatting about trivial matters when the doorbell rang insistently. Herman winced and glanced at his watch. “Who’s going on there?” he muttered and went to open the door. A girl of about twenty-two stood in the hallway, wrapped in a long cloak despite the warm weather. Slender legs in black stockings and expensive shoes peeked out from beneath the cloak. Her f
Now Helen was the epitome of a strong powerful and beautiful young woman, a great career with a social life to match. She was tall, blonde, an incredible figure, slim, toned, a pretty face and just someone who’d stop you right in your tracks. She had an elegant style but wasn’t afraid to flaunt her assets, short skirts, crop tops, tight and flowing high cut dresses that accentuated her long legs and perfect figure. We matched on tinder and agreed to go on a date, I’ll save you the full details but the date went quite well, we sat at the bar tongues down each other’s throat… so you could say I had an idea it wasn’t going to be a few drinks and go home kinda night! It wasn’t. I was feeling quite proud of myself that Helen was all to happy to take me back to her bed and I suppose this is where the title really takes off, you want the juicy and dirty details don’t you? Well, here you are… Helen is lying in bed her pussy on full display just after my tongue flicked her clit and my
I moved to the regional center to attend university. My parents didn't have their own place there, and renting a room was expensive, so my mother's sister, Aunt Vera, took me in. She was forty-five and worked as an accountant at a garment factory. She had divorced her husband about ten years ago, lived alone in a spacious two-room apartment, kept a cat, and, as I thought then, had given up on her love life. I was nineteen. I'd noticed this oddity about myself before. On commuter trains, in lines, on the street, my gaze always gravitated not to my peers with their skinny jeans and backpacks, but to women in their forties and fifties. I was mesmerized by their heavy thighs, clinging to their skirts, their powerful calves, and the large breasts they carried before them like jewels. Their backsides were especially intoxicating—wide, substantial, swaying as they walked. I imagined myself plunging my hands into that flesh, spreading the cheeks and penetrating that most secret,
I'd seen Bianca at school drop-off and pick-up for years, and we always exchanged easy small talk. She was probably ten years older than me (at 35, I'm a young single dad) and never someone I'd thought of as my type. Her manicure was always perfect, her lashes unmistakably fake, and her lips unnaturally plump (but not veering into duck lip territory). Even though she was older than me, and not the sort of woman who I usually found myself interested in, I always found her attractive. It’s funny how the busy-mom-rushing-through-the-morning look actually showed off how attractive she was better than the lips or lashes. She was often braless, and in oversized tees and yoga pants. She clearly took care of herself: a shapely ass, soft curves, and the unmistakable signs of having carried three kids - a little belly, breasts that swayed and hung in a way that drove me wild. She was, undeniably, a MILF. A few weeks before school let out, I saw Bianca confront two girls from our kids' class.
Okay I'm putting this on reddit because I can't tell anyone I actually know and I need to get it out of my head. I hooked up with my childhood friend Eli last weekend and it was genuinely some of the best sex I've had in college and I've been thinking about it constantly since. Context matters here so bear with me. I've known Eli since seventh grade. Earth science class, sat next to each other, he explained plate tectonics in a way that actually clicked and we were inseparable for like two years before high school happened and everyone sorted themselves out socially and we just drifted. Not dramatically, just the slow fade of two people ending up in different friend groups. I ran into him at college orientation and felt that specific warmth of rediscovering something you forgot you liked. We'd been loosely back in each other's orbit since September. He's nineteen, still very much the same guy. Five-nine, slim, sandy hair that needs a cut, thick glasses, the kind of person who apolog
okay so this happened a few months back and I still laugh about how it turned out I had been seeing this guy, let's call him Ryan, for about a month. total sweetheart, a little nerdy, the type who had strong opinions about video games and made playlists for every occasion. we were still pretty new and figuring each other out. one saturday morning he came over while my parents were out. or so I thought. we were in my room with the door cracked because that's just the rule in my house, religious family, you know how it is. we were messing around slowly, keeping quiet, being careful. then the power went out. I went to check on things and realized my mom's car was gone and my dad was outside doing yard work. we had the house to ourselves basically. I went back to my room, shut the door, and we didn't waste any more time. he went down on me and I was genuinely not prepared for how good it was. he was doing this thing with his tongue, tracing patterns, taking his time, and I was trying
I'd been playing "Tanks" for three hours when another burst of laughter came from the kitchen. My mother and her friends, Natasha and Irina, were celebrating her fortieth birthday. I popped in to congratulate her, drank a glass of cognac with them to their health, and retreated back to my den—sitting with three forty-year-old women and listening to them talk about men, diets, and bosses was more than I could handle. She's twenty years old, after all, and has her own interests. Around eleven o'clock in the evening, the laughter died down. I went to investigate. The kitchen was piled high with dirty dishes and empty bottles. Mother and Aunt Natasha were asleep in Mom's bedroom, the door ajar—I heard their synchronized snoring. But Irina was nowhere to be found. I walked into the living room and saw her. She was lying on the sofa, on her side, her legs tucked under her, covered only by a light blanket that had slipped halfway to the floor. The light from the str
Third week with a new trainer. I signed up for him myself, having seen him on Instagram: tall, broad-shouldered, with a look in his eyes as if he already knew all the most embarrassing things about me. Vadim Romanovich. A former champion in some martial art, now the most expensive personal trainer at the Platinum club. They said he's tough. They said he'd show results within a month. They didn't say anything else. The first training session is hell. The second is a humiliating hell. He doesn't ask, he commands: "Five more," "Faster," "Are you weak?" And the worst part is, I do it. I can't stop. He looks at me, corrects my technique, places a heavy palm on my lower back, and a treacherous warmth spreads in my lower abdomen. I started wearing the most protective clothing so as not to give myself away by shaking. This morning I broke my diet again. Just one croissant and a latte with syrup, but he always knows it with some kind of animal inst
Night. The sound of the surf. Music somewhere in the distance. Liza and I walked away from the fire. The sand was still warm. There were two people nearby: Seryozha and Vlad. They brought champagne. Bitter, bubbling on the tongue. — Are you frozen? - No. - And you have goosebumps. - It's not from the cold. Liza is already kissing Seryozha. His fingers are tangled in her hair, wet from the bath. Vlad looks at me. For a long time. I take a sip straight from the bottle. I hand it to him. His lips are on the same glass as mine. — Do you want to take a swim? - I'm not wearing a swimsuit. - So much the better. We run to the water. The waves lick our feet. He catches up with me, already waist-deep in the sea. The water is warm, almost hot after the afternoon sun. His hands slide along my waist underwater. — You can't see anything here. - Do you want to see something? — I want to touch it. A palm falls on a chest. The nipples instantly harden. Not from the cold. Salt water on th
It’s been a while since I posted the story that leads up to this but this is a continuation of the story of my, then wife’s best friend. TLDR: my ex wife, Tori, liked to show off my dick to her friends, her friend, Diana, came to visit and we had some fun as a group. This story takes place the following morning. The following morning I woke up and got out of bed to try and get my day started. I lean over and kiss Tori, tell her how amazing last night was and ask if she wants any coffee. She grumbles a yes and requests some excedrin as well. I throw on some sweats and tshirt and head to the kitchen. I return with some coffee and meds for Tori. She thanks me and asks if Diana is up. I say I had not heard from her yet. Tori tells me to go check on her and take her some coffee. As I am walking out, Tori says, “make sure you get her whatever she needs.” I don't think much of this comment assuming she means coffee, water, meds etc. I make another cup of coffee and head downstairs to chec
I love to watch. That's my greatest thrill—to see my wife turn into an insatiable bitch under someone else's control, while still being mine. Lena and I have been together for eight years, and in that time I've realized: her sexuality is like fine wine, only getting brighter with age. Tall, with shoulder-length, wheat-colored hair, languid gray eyes, and long legs—she's the kind of woman that even women turn heads. But the main thing about her is her appetite. Not for food, no. For cocks. When we started renovating our new two-room apartment, I knew how it would end. Lena volunteered to oversee the process while I was at work, and I just chuckled to myself. She put on her favorite summer dress—a lightweight cotton one over her bare skin, the slightest movement clinging to her butt so tightly that the outline of her panties was visible. White heeled sandals, minimal makeup—and there she was, standing in the doorway, watching me go with a look in which I read anticipat
That summer, my husband and I headed south for the first time in two years. Money was tight in '92, so a compartment was out of the question. We bought two tickets for a reserved seat carriage to Adler. I was twenty-four then. I had a shapely figure: a pleasant curve in my hips, a wasp waist, and neat B-cup breasts with very responsive nipples. I dyed my hair red back then—my husband absolutely loved it, saying I looked like a fox. The journey ahead was long, almost two days. We were riding on the upper side berths. A guy of about twenty-five sat down opposite us. He was dressed simply but cleanly: a light T-shirt and sweatpants. His toned physique immediately caught my eye—his sculpted arms and broad chest. He introduced himself as Dima. He was traveling to visit his parents in Sochi, having just been discharged from the army. My husband, Slava, a sociable man, immediately suggested that Dima and I get together for the three of us. We packed fried chicken, boiled eggs, tomatoes
Redditor Recognized Me On a Cruise Last month I was on an MSC cruise with my hubby. We had a Yacht Club cabin. (Btw, it is amazing!) We always try to make some naughty videos and pics when we travel. So on the second day, we went out to the Yacht Club pool early. No one was around so we went one of the hot tubs that was empty and got a few naughty pics. Tits, pussy—you know the drill. We were laying on a lounger by the pool and hubby posted the pics because we were doing a series. Day 1, Day2, etc. Within a couple of minutes I get a DM on Reddit asking me if I was on the ship, at the pool. A few DMs back and forth confirmed the Redditor and I were on the same ship at the same pool and he definitely recognized me. He knew what bikini I was wearing and what I was drinking, etc. Now, I still had no idea who this guy was. I was concerned because 1. He might be a creep; and 2. I was not advertising my online activities! I’ve never had a fan recognize me IRL before. I mean what a
My name is Igor, I'm 32 years old, and my wife, Katya, is 29. We've been married for six years, and over those years, I've come to think I know absolutely everything about her. But I'll never forget my last birthday. It all started on a typical Friday morning. Katya woke me with a kiss, congratulated me, and handed me an envelope containing some kind of travel voucher—honestly, I didn't even read it right away because she looked absolutely stunning. A light silk robe, barely covering her hips, her hair loose, the scent of her favorite perfume. I pulled her toward me, but she deftly slipped away, smiled mysteriously, and said, "This evening will be a real treat, don't even think about getting out of it." Honestly, I thought she was talking about some special lingerie or a romantic dinner. The day went by as usual—work, calls, bustle. Katya texted me to be home by eight, take a shower, and await further instructions. She generally loved to boss me aroun
(All characters named or otherwise are at, or well above, the age of 18) Obligatory this happened more than a decade ago before I was really and true a slut. I also hope my friend never finds this. My friend never finds this because I think she knew something was up and some details here would confirm it. MJ, I just want you to know, I’d do it again, don’t read this I’m about to fuck your mom. The Summer I graduated Highschool was an amazing time. I had so many things that happened. There were parties at the lake almost every weekend. At one of these take parties some friends of mine, who had been deep in their cups for a while, suggested that we go skinny dipping. I say suggested what I mean was they ripped their tops and bottoms off screamed “Skinny dipping” and cannon balled into the lake. Now 19 year old sins didn’t drink or do drugs, but when a bunch of people get naked and jump in the lake, it’s pretty to follow suit and de-suit. One thing I don’t miss about partying as a t