When this story took place I hadn’t been dating for a while and was a bit lonely. Naturally that led to forming a habit of getting myself off right after coming home from work. One day I forgot to close the curtains while I was already lying in bed. My apartment was pretty high up from the street so nobody can see me if I’m lying down. At least that’s what I thought. I pull down my boxers and I close my eyes, picturing this attractive, blonde woman I saw on the subway home. I imagine her hand on my cock instead of mine, just staring at me in this controlling way as she does it. Her top buttons undone, her cleavage on full display. Just as I’m getting close I briefly open my eyes and check the window. Thats when I spot someone looking at me from the second story window across the street. A woman. We lock eyes for a split second. Fuck, I think I know her. I immediately roll over on my side and pull the covers over my exposed bottom half. I put on my pants and pull the curtains closed.
Igor was taught from an early age that he was good for nothing. His mother drilled this into him every single day while he was growing up in their Khrushchev-era apartment on the outskirts, surrounded by perpetually leaking pipes and the smell of fried onions. You'll never amount to anything, she'd say, pouring herself tea with the sediment of yesterday's brew. Igor believed it. He dropped out of vocational school to become a welder in his second year and got a job at a "Husband for an Hour" company—at least they paid cash there, and the clients, mostly lonely old women with chandeliers that needed rehanging, didn't ask too many questions. He replaced electrical outlets, repaired faucets, hung curtain rods, and in the evenings, he'd return to his rented room, where his only joy was an old phone with a cracked screen, on which he watched porn videos—fast, angry, and plotless. He didn't have a girlfriend and didn't expect one: Igor was embarrassed b
I've been thinking a lot about Angie, my first "serious" girlfriend. This is a true story about her. If you like it, reach out! I love to chat. ... In my early 20’s I met Angie, and she wound up being my first long-term girlfriend. We were both young and figuring things out, trying out new jobs and imagining the many directions our lives could take us. Angie had bleached-blonde hair and dark eyebrows. She was short and small-breasted, but I found her androgynous body enormously attractive. She was a very sexual person, far more experienced than I was. With her I had a lot of “firsts”: first sex outdoors, first blowjob in a car, first anal. She knew what she wanted, though she also enjoyed it when I took control and told her exactly how I liked to be pleased. One night I was over at Angie’s and she told me that she’d messed up her scheduling with her birth control pills, and she’d have to wait a few weeks to start again. I told her I’d pick up condoms the next day, as it was already
Lera stood at the bus stop, watching the taillights of the regular bus recede into the distance. She was literally a minute late—she'd been held up at the dorm packing for the weekend, and then the minibus to the bus station was crawling along. Now the next bus wasn't until tomorrow morning, and she absolutely had to be in the district center this evening: it was her mother's birthday, she'd cooked everything, and was expecting her only daughter from the city. Lera was a third-year student at the teacher training college, nineteen years old, short and slender, with short dark-blond hair and playful brown eyes. She had a strong, athletic figure—she used to do track and field, and it still showed: toned thighs, firm buttocks, small, neat breasts. She was dressed casually: jeans, sneakers, a light windbreaker over a T-shirt. Over her shoulder was a duffel bag containing her belongings and a gift for her mother. There was no one else at the bus stop. The sun was already
Okay, so guys, Part 1 (below) occurred very recently. Now, in almost record time, I have a VERY horny development. I asked, simply, “did you play with yourself over those pictures?” With his charm, I received a hand gesture showing 4 fingers. “FOUR?” I was bright red AND beginning to get really wet. “In one day.” He laughed. Fuckkkkk. Okay. I’m going to skip ahead here. Things got very passionate, very fast. I made it clear that after work, I wanted him. He left 40 minutes early, went home, freshened up, and met up with me. This will sound trashy. It was in his car. Yeah, I’m 37, and yet, I still without hesitation wanted car sex. He drove us to a remote place and along the way, my heart raced and all I thought about was pleasuring him. Getting there, I couldn’t resist him. I undid my seat belt and started kissing him. It was hot and heavy. Off came my top. He began sucking my nipples and they were like bullets in seconds. Unbuttoning his shor
Anna sat at a table in a cozy restaurant, where live music boomed—some slow jazz with a saxophone that sent shivers down her spine. Today was her and Sergey's anniversary—ten years of marriage. The table was set for six: they, her husband's best friend, Alexey, and a couple of mutual friends. The wine flowed freely. Dry red, already on their third bottle. Sergey, as always, was in good spirits—joking, putting his arm around her waist, but his hand was already shaking slightly from the alcohol. But Alexey... Alexey looked at her completely differently. She felt it all evening. His gaze slid over her tight black dress, which so beautifully accentuated her breasts and barely covered her hips. Her high heels made her legs seem endless. Every time she stood up to dance with her husband, Alexey's eyes followed her, and there was something hungry in them. And when Sergey went to the bar for another bottle, Alexey leaned closer: "You're absolutely stunning today, Anya. S
This happened a few months ago and is quite a hot memory. I randomly matched with this girl from tinder one Friday night. She was visiting from Taiwan on a business trip and it was her last night in my city. She was stunning and had major black cat energy. 5'2, petite, always dressed in black, with immaculate hair and nails. Upon matching with her, she asked me what I wanted to do. I felt a bit bold and told her I had a nice view on my balcony, she should come over and have some wine on it with me. She said that sounded fun and agreed to come over immediately. She texted me just a few minutes later that she was on her way in her Uber, and that she was a bit nervous but excited. I waited outside my building for her. As soon as she got out of her car, she nervously smiled at me. I hugged her and complimented her leather jacket, she was incredibly stylish. She perked up immediately and said thank you with a big smile. Our conversation began to flow comfortably from there. We grabbed so
Lena couldn't remember how much she'd drunk. The office party dragged on, and she, standing at the bar in her black, form-fitting dress, stockings, and black stiletto pumps, felt the alcohol blurring boundaries. Dima was probably already asleep at home. She'd promised him "not to get too drunk," but the third gin and tonic with Andrey from the next aisle had done its job. Andrey stood too close. His hand had been on her waist for fifteen minutes, and then it slid lower—to her thigh, where the fabric of her dress merged into her stocking. Lena felt the warmth of his palm through the nylon. "You're absolutely stunning today, Len," he said quietly, leaning toward her ear. The scent of his cologne and alcohol assaulted her nose. "That dress... and those stockings. I can't take my eyes off you all evening." She laughed, but it came out hoarse. Everything inside her was already burning. - Stop it. I'm married, by the way. “I know. So what?”
IT IS NOT. There is no need to feel ashamed or insecure about your dick size, 99% of it is just the media and internet lying to you. I would million times rather ride a normal-sized dick than try to take a massive python. Like do you guys see how small we girls are? How can a 5'1” me take a 10 inch cock. Either way, unrealistic, almost no one has that and it hurts anyway. Anything more than 5-6 inches feels painful and is just a bad experience. Maybe it works for some, but my pussy is small and short, I love a dick that I can ride for a while, not something that will hurt me after a minute. A dick and a person I can make love with rather than just have a mindless interaction. Dick size and me cumming hard on a cock has had no correlation for me. Give me a 4 inch cock, bit of fingers and some tongue action and you made me the happiest girl on the planet.. Most women don't want that super crazy stuff. The average is great for a good chunk of women. Especially if you know how to angl
New Year's Eve 1999-2000 I attended a house party with a college friend of mine and his younger cousin. I was 22 at the time. My friend was a couple of years older than me, but his cousin was four years younger. His cousin brought along two gals with him from his high school class. One was his girlfriend (or someone he was 'seeing'). The other was her single friend, Tiffany. Well, I learned two things early on: (1) Tiffany is into me and wants to hook up; and (2) this New Year's Eve is also her 18th birthday. She was an attractive gal in a severe sort of way - very sharp facial features with sandy blond hair. Her body seems nice but it is hard to tell based upon the type of cocktail dress she wore and the fact that she had on tights. I actually had reservations about hooking up with Tiffany because it just seemed so convenient that she was turning 18 on New Year's Eve. In order to make conversation with her and verify if this claim were true, I said, "Is it really your birthday today
I stirred sugar in my cup and listened to Lenka with half an ear. She'd been complaining about her Nikita for a good hour now: either he'd cooled off, or he'd found someone else. I nodded as usual, not paying attention, until my friend let out a particularly bitter sob: "You see, Vika, he said it straight out: 'I'm bored.' Can you imagine? He's so bored! He says it's the same old positions in bed, no excitement." I took a sip of tea and, looking into her tear-stained eyes, said with a smile: "Well, do you want to give him a master class? We'll show him how much fun it can be. Together, we'll definitely get him going." Lenka froze, her mouth open. The living room was so silent I could hear the faucet dripping in the kitchen. I was about to laugh and turn it into a joke, but my friend suddenly wiped away her tears and asked very quietly: — And you... could you? For me? I don't know why, but I nodded. After all, Lenka is my be
Hey everybody, I’m going through a little rough patch right now, and it’s making me remember another time I was feeling low, and a friend who helped me get through it. If you’d like to discuss this story or others, feel free to reach out! … Though my ex and I struggled a lot, one place where we got along very well was in bed. We had a very rich sex life with a lot of roleplay. One thing my ex loved to do was to fantasize about us cheating on each other with our friends. She’d tell a story about one of my friends secretly fucking her behind my back, or one of her friends pulling me away at a party and giving me a blowjob. My ex especially liked to fantasize about her best friend, who I’ll call Dana. Dana is a slight and very beautiful East Asian woman who my ex knew for years and years. We both knew that Dana had something of a crush on me. Any time we hung out she’d stand close to me, touching my arm during conversations, and blushing if I gave her a hug. I never realized how serio
My flight from Tyumen was delayed by just half an hour, so I arrived in Moscow even earlier than I'd expected. The business trip was a bit rushed: the contractors signed the contract right away, so I didn't have to sit around and woo them until Friday evening. I caught a taxi and was in the elevator to my floor by three o'clock. I didn't call Marina—I wanted to surprise her, thinking she'd light up with joy when I walked into the hallway with a bouquet from the airport kiosk. I opened the door quietly, the key turning almost silently—I'd recently lubricated the lock. The hallway was dimly lit, and the scent of her perfume and something else, barely perceptible and foreign, hung on the coat rack. A man's windbreaker I'd never seen before hung on the hanger, and a pair of size 10 sneakers sat on the shoe rack. I froze and listened. From the living room came unmistakable rhythmic sounds, and a deep male voice. I quietly kicked off my shoes and walked dow
I walked toward them, naked, my body shimmering beneath the sun with a mixture of sweat and excitement, watching their faces cycle through the most delicious mixture of confusion and lust I'd ever seen. "Sarah..." Mark finally managed as I set the three glasses of lemonade down on the table, standing back so they could admire my large breasts, my hard nipples, the definition of my hip bones. He gestured vaguely with his hand, a helpless little wave that encompassed my entire naked body. "You're...you're naked." I looked down at myself like I was checking the weather, then back up at him, tilting my head. "Yeah? So?" I said, a little dismissively, walked forward, the grass cool and slightly damp under my bare feet. "It's way too hot for clothes, don’t you think?” I straightened up, stretching my arms above my head, feeling my breasts lift and settle, watching their eyes follow the movement of my nipples. The sun was kissing my skin everywhere now, and with no fabric to trap the hea
This desire grew out of her fantasy of a complete change of context. We rented a house in a remote village on the border of three regions—a true wilderness, where cell phone reception was limited to the porch, and only on clear days. The house was well-built, with a huge Russian stove and a separate banya (sauna) on the shore of an overgrown pond. It was the banya that became the starting point. Karina imagined herself pleasuring the three sturdy village men we hired to mend the sagging fence and fix the roof right on the wet boards of the anteroom. This idea frightened me with its uncontrollability, but it excited me with the same force that frightened me. I agreed on the condition that everything stay in this bathhouse and in this wilderness. He found candidates through the local caretaker, posing as a swinging couple. The caretaker, a seasoned man, selected three. Sergei was a forty-year-old tractor driver, broad-shouldered and on his second marriage. Denis was a young gamekeeper
Alisa and I lingered after our last class in the half-empty classroom. It was already getting dark outside, the building was deserted, and only our voices echoed off the high ceilings. You, Andrei Viktorovich, were sitting at the teacher's desk, shuffling through some papers and frowning discontentedly as you looked at our empty report cards. Alisa was wearing a low-cut knit top with a hint of a lace top underneath, and a fitted pencil skirt that fell just above the knees. She wore suede ankle boots with a sturdy heel. I arrived in a semi-sheer peach-colored blouse tucked into black high-waisted trousers. I wore pumps with a thin stiletto heel. On the table in front of us sat three cups of cold coffee and an open box of chocolates—our modest bribe. "Girls, this won't work," you sighed, leaning back in your chair. "The semester is ending, and you're both failing my class. How are you going to pass it?" Alisa and I exchanged glances. Honestly, we both knew
one of my guy best friends, someone ive known for years, accidentally left his phone unlocked and i saw one of his hidden folders... **TLDR: turns out hes been jerking off to me for months, looking and saving my pics and even some old bikini photos.** honestly at first i was a bit weirded out, but thinking about it.... i got insanely turned on by the idea of my friend stroking their cock to me... i told some of my friends and apparently they all knew he had a crush on me but rumor has it his dick game is GOOOD so i wanted to see for myself. a couple days later i was at his place and i confronted him and he told me he used to fantasize about fucking me but nothing more and he doesnt do it anymore... but things escalated a bit. we were alone at his place and i basically jumped him. i pushed him onto his bed and we started making out, went down and pulled his cock out AND WOW HIS DICK WAS BIGGER THAN I THOUGHT. his dick was rock hard and throbbing in my mouth. i suc
Mid-February was gray, chilly, and incredibly winter-weary. I longed for warmth not only for my body but also for my soul. So when Sasha suggested we escape for the weekend to a country spa complex with outdoor thermal pools, I agreed without hesitation. My bags were packed in half an hour: swimsuits, robes, and a sense of anticipation. We arrived after dark. The complex, illuminated in a warm gold glow, was bathed in clouds of steam rising from the hot pools straight into the frosty sky. The contrast between the biting February air and the promise of scalding water was intoxicating in itself. After quickly changing in our room—spacious, wood-paneled, and scented with eucalyptus—we threw on white terrycloth robes and set out to explore the property. Right from the start, we were advised to start with the hammam to warm up properly. We found a marble room with a warm stone in the center, lit only by a dim starburst of fiber optics on the ceiling. Someone was already inside: through t
My college friend, Lera, invited me out for the weekend—her husband, Sasha, and his friends had rented a large cottage by the lake to celebrate his birthday. I'd recently broken up with my boyfriend and agreed right away: I wanted to unwind, get away from it all. Lera said it would be a small group, seven or eight people, all close friends, and I got ready without a care in the world. I had to take the train, then a taxi. I put on my favorite sundress—a lightweight one with thin straps, white with tiny blue flowers, and mid-thigh length. I only wore a swimsuit underneath, because Lera had promised a sauna and a dip in the lake. The sundress was slightly see-through in the sun, but that added to the feeling of summer freedom. The cottage turned out to be large, wooden, with a terrace and a barbecue in the yard. When I arrived, Lera happily hugged me and introduced me to the guests. The group included: the birthday boy himself, Sasha; his colleague Denis, a large, bearded man of a
My name is Seryoga. My partner, Dimon, and I work at a 24-hour supermarket on the outskirts. I'm a security guard, he's a loader. It's a night shift, from ten to eight. The job isn't particularly grim: you only get a couple of drunks a night, but you can grab something from the shelves in peace while no one's watching and spend some time on your phone. The only downside is the cameras, but we know the blind spots by heart. Our administrator's name is Vika. She's about twenty-five, and has a stunning figure. She always wears a tight skirt that falls just below her butt, a blouse a couple of buttons unbuttoned, and underneath, she wears obviously expensive lace lingerie, which Dimon and I noticed a couple of times when she bent over. She has slender legs in heels, and plump lips painted scarlet. Her hair is dark, shoulder-length. We called her "Star" among ourselves. Because for us, ordinary working people, such a woman would never be in our future.