That evening, I sat in my apartment, sipping whiskey and replaying my latest recordings in my head. The erotic voice stories I'd posted had always been a magnet—women would write that they'd get wet just from my tone. But today, I wanted something real, something alive. Not just words in a chat, but complete control over a body that trembled from my voice in real time. And then a message came. A girl named Alina, 32, a manager at a large company. She had just finished listening to my latest audio story in a hotel room somewhere in St. Petersburg. A three-week business trip, she said. The room was on the 18th floor, with huge windows overlooking the Neva and the lights of the bridges. “I was listening to you and… I can’t cum. I’ve never been able to really. My body is burning, but I can’t release. Help?” I smiled at the screen. Her photo—a stern blonde in a white blouse, but her eyes were hungry. I knew right away: she was already mine. "Turn on voicemail," I wrote fi... continue reading

Mikhail quietly opened the door to his new apartment and paused on the threshold. The newly occupied building still smelled of fresh paint and cardboard from boxes. He'd returned from "work" two hours earlier than he'd promised—he wanted to surprise Marina. Six days without her, six days of business travel, and now he was practically burning with desire. He heard voices in the depths of the apartment and a heavy thud—apparently, the very same enormous bed they'd ordered the day before had finally arrived. Perfect. He crept down the hallway, quickly shed his suit in the entryway, threw on an old dressing gown hanging on a hook, and slipped silently into the next room—the one with the tall, half-assembled wardrobe. He climbed behind it, pressed himself against the wall, and held his breath. A crack between the panels offered a perfect view of the bedroom. Marina emerged from the bathroom wearing her short black silk robe—the very one he'd given her for their an... continue reading

Mikhail quietly opened the door to his new apartment and paused on the threshold. The newly occupied building still smelled of fresh paint and cardboard from boxes. He'd returned from "work" two hours earlier than he'd promised—he wanted to surprise Marina. Six days without her, six days of business travel, and now he was practically burning with desire. He heard voices in the depths of the apartment and a heavy thud—apparently, the very same enormous bed they'd ordered the day before had finally arrived. Perfect. He crept down the hallway, quickly shed his suit in the entryway, threw on an old dressing gown hanging on a hook, and slipped silently into the next room—the one with the tall, half-assembled wardrobe. He climbed behind it, pressed himself against the wall, and held his breath. A crack between the panels offered a perfect view of the bedroom. Marina emerged from the bathroom wearing her short black silk robe—the very one he'd given her for their an... continue reading

Hello everyone! My name is Anna, and I finally decided to tell you a story that happened to me a couple of months ago. I'm 29 now, 5'6", with dark, shoulder-length hair and a C-cup bust. My husband had been working remotely for two weeks at the time, and I felt like I really needed to take a breather and be alone. We generally get along, but sometimes I just want that – to rent an apartment for a day in another neighborhood, where no one bothers me or asks when I'll be back. Just to disconnect from everything and from myself. I chose an option on Avito – a minimalist one-room apartment in a new building, with large windows and a view of the city at night. The owner wrote that it was quiet and peaceful. How wrong she was. I arrived in the evening, around nine. The apartment was exactly as pictured: white walls, minimal furniture—just a wide bed, a low sofa, a kitchen island, and huge, curtainless windows. Outside, the neon light from the sign of the neighboring bar fl... continue reading

I flew to St. Petersburg for a three-day logistics conference—the usual routine for a mid-level manager: presentations, coffee breaks, and the constant exchange of business cards. The hotel was decent, right in the center, overlooking the Neva. On the very first evening after the official part, I went down to the hotel bar—my feet were buzzing from my heels, just wanting to relax with a martini. He was already sitting behind the counter—Dmitry, one of our key clients. We'd been corresponding for months about work, but had only seen each other in person a couple of times at group meetings. Tall, confident, about forty-five, with an expensive suit and a wedding ring he wore all the time, even here. Next to him was a young woman, about twenty-five, in a formal but form-fitting dress. Alina, his assistant. I'd only known her by email: always crisp letters, perfect spreadsheets. In person, she was even more beautiful—long legs, a neat bust, shoulder-length blond hair, and those e... continue reading

Karina left the house just after nine, when the sun had finally set behind the rooftops of the residential area. The city park was almost empty at this hour: only the occasional streetlight, the rustling of leaves, and the distant barking of dogs. She'd chosen this spot specifically—no one knew her here, here she could simply breathe and not think about work, debts, or the fact that she'd been living in this city alone for two years. She was wearing a light summer dress—white, with tiny blue flowers, just above the knee. A very ordinary, "decent" dress. But today, after the stuffy office, she hadn't worn a bra under it, and had chosen the thinnest panties—white, almost sheer, with a small bow at the front. Her legs were bare, just light sneakers on her bare feet. The breeze under her dress immediately made itself felt: cool touches along her inner thighs, as if someone invisible were running their fingers up and down. Karina shivered and tugged at the hem, even t... continue reading

That evening, Kristina had already started hinting since lunch that she was going to her old friend Svetka's birthday party. "I'll go alone," she said, standing in front of the mirror in the hallway and fixing her hair. "You're still swamped with reports, aren't you, Vadim?" I nodded, even though we both knew work had nothing to do with it. She simply adored evenings like these, when she could break away and completely surrender to the moment, and I could wait at home, imagining how everything would turn out. Preparations began, as always, with the bathroom. She emerged wearing only a short robe, her skin still damp, with a slight scent of vanilla gel. “Help me choose what to wear,” she called me into the bedroom. Several options were already laid out on the bed: a tight red dress with a low neckline, a black pencil skirt, and a thin blouse that concealed almost nothing. Christina threw off her robe and stood before me completely naked. Her body was p... continue reading

I work as an IT specialist at a mid-sized company, handling corporate email, chats, and everything security-related. It's a mixed team, but our sales department is full of women, and one of them—Lena from marketing—has always been a bit of a stretch for me. She's 33, tall, slender, and has a perfect figure: D-cup breasts, a narrow waist, and a butt so perfect that a pencil skirt fits her like a glove. She always wears smart blouses, heels, and perfect makeup. She's married with two kids, and her husband is some manager at another company. She never even looked at me, just said "hello" in the hallway. That day was a typical Thursday, the end of the quarter. She was supposed to send me an advertising report on our corporate Teams. I was checking my email and saw it was from Lena. I opened it—and it wasn't Excel. There were her intimate photos. A series. First, she's in black lace lingerie on the bed, then braless, her breasts exposed, her nipples hard. Then... continue reading

We set out on the open sea on a small yacht late in the afternoon. The sun was already setting, painting the sky in incredible shades of pink, orange, and gold. A light salty breeze ruffled my hair, and the yacht gently rocked on the waves, as if lulling us to sleep. All around us was an endless expanse of water, not a single shoreline on the horizon. We were completely alone, and this feeling of complete freedom was more intoxicating than the glass of wine we'd had with dinner on deck. I stood by the side of the boat, leaning against the warm wood, watching the sun touch the water, leaving a fiery trail behind it. He came up behind me silently, wrapped his arms around my waist, and pressed his chest against my back. His body was warm, and his arms were strong and gentle at the same time. I closed my eyes and exhaled, feeling the salty breeze mingle with his scent—marine, musky, familiar. We were silent. Words were superfluous. Only the sound of the waves, the lapping of the wat... continue reading

I'd been noticing her at all the company parties for a long time. Our director's wife, Olga, was about thirty-nine years old, but she looked as if time had only enhanced her. Tall, well-groomed, with gorgeous D-cup breasts that always swayed slightly under thin blouses or dresses, and a backside that was a work of art: round, firm, and high, so high that I'd get an erection whenever she walked by in a tight skirt. Her husband, our boss, usually got drunk quickly, started shouting toasts and hugging everyone in sight, while she sat off to the side, bored, twirling her glass of wine in her fingers and occasionally catching my eye. I knew she saw me staring at her, but she never let on. Just a faint smile at the corners of her lips and slightly narrowed eyes. This time, the corporate party was especially noisy—New Year's Eve in the large hall of the office restaurant. By ten o'clock, the boss was barely able to stand, blaring songs and groping his secretaries. Olga... continue reading

I can't help but share this story, guys. You definitely can't tell your friends something like this, but inside I'm still boiling, overflowing with emotion. I'm sitting here right now smiling like an idiot because it was seriously awesome. Okay, I'll start from the beginning, as always. First, let me give you an idea of who we are. My name is Maxim, I'm 24 years old, 180 cm tall, and weigh about 70 kg. I have blond hair, blue eyes, an angular face, work as a manager, and exercise in my free time. I have an average build—basically, an average guy, nothing special, but confident. My wife's name is Lena, she's 23, 5'6", and weighs about 125 pounds. She has dyed blonde hair, green eyes, and a very sweet face with small cheeks. Her figure is a classic pear shape, but not over the top: hips slightly wider than shoulders, long, beautiful legs, a plump, firm butt, a thin waist, and a small, barely noticeable tummy. Her breasts are natural, a full A-... continue reading

We set out on the open sea on a small yacht late in the afternoon. The sun was already setting, painting the sky in incredible shades of pink, orange, and gold. A light salty breeze ruffled my hair, and the yacht gently rocked on the waves, as if lulling us to sleep. All around us was an endless expanse of water, not a single shoreline on the horizon. We were completely alone, and this feeling of complete freedom was more intoxicating than the glass of wine we'd had with dinner on deck. I stood by the side of the boat, leaning against the warm wood, watching the sun touch the water, leaving a fiery trail behind it. He came up behind me silently, wrapped his arms around my waist, and pressed his chest against my back. His body was warm, and his arms were strong and gentle at the same time. I closed my eyes and exhaled, feeling the salty breeze mingle with his scent—marine, musky, familiar. We were silent. Words were superfluous. Only the sound of the waves, the lapping of the wat... continue reading

I work as an IT specialist at a mid-sized company, handling corporate email, chats, and everything security-related. It's a mixed team, but our sales department is full of women, and one of them—Lena from marketing—has always been a bit of a stretch for me. She's 33, tall, slender, and has a perfect figure: D-cup breasts, a narrow waist, and a butt so perfect that a pencil skirt fits her like a glove. She always wears smart blouses, heels, and perfect makeup. She's married with two kids, and her husband is some manager at another company. She never even looked at me, just said "hello" in the hallway. That day was a typical Thursday, the end of the quarter. She was supposed to send me an advertising report on our corporate Teams. I was checking my email and saw it was from Lena. I opened it—and it wasn't Excel. There were her intimate photos. A series. First, she's in black lace lingerie on the bed, then braless, her breasts exposed, her nipples hard. Then... continue reading

Karina left the house just after nine, when the sun had finally set behind the rooftops of the residential area. The city park was almost empty at this hour: only the occasional streetlight, the rustling of leaves, and the distant barking of dogs. She'd chosen this spot specifically—no one knew her here, here she could simply breathe and not think about work, debts, or the fact that she'd been living in this city alone for two years. She was wearing a light summer dress—white, with tiny blue flowers, just above the knee. A very ordinary, "decent" dress. But today, after the stuffy office, she hadn't worn a bra under it, and had chosen the thinnest panties—white, almost sheer, with a small bow at the front. Her legs were bare, just light sneakers on her bare feet. The breeze under her dress immediately made itself felt: cool touches along her inner thighs, as if someone invisible were running their fingers up and down. Karina shivered and tugged at the hem, even t... continue reading

My wife is 24 years old. Slender, of average height, with long dark hair, green eyes, firm C-cup breasts with dark pink nipples and a juicy, round ass that just begs to be spanked and fucked. According to my wife... That evening, she went to the sauna with two of my friends, Seryoga and Maxim. They'd been offering to "have a steam session like men" for a while, but this time she decided to join them because I was on a business trip. She said, "Don't be bored, darling, I'm just relaxing after work." They met at the entrance and entered a separate cabin with a large steam room and relaxation area. They immediately undressed. Lena threw on only a small white towel that barely covered her bottom. Seryoga was tall, muscular, with a thick penis; Maxim was slightly shorter, but sinewy and always lustful. The steam room became hot. They poured a beer, then a second. Lena quickly became tipsy—beer on an empty stomach, plus the steam. The towel slipped off, and she... continue reading

Her confident gait, long, slender legs in black stilettos, and stunning C-cup breasts, swaying beneath her thin white blouse, instantly captured the attention of every man in the Domodedovo Airport waiting room. And most importantly, this goddess was walking straight toward me. I felt envious glances piercing my back: Nikolai, the project's chief engineer, and suddenly such a beauty was flying with him on a business trip to Kaliningrad. When I was told I was flying to Kaliningrad to secure approvals for a new residential complex with Anastasia, our company's marketing director, I nearly jumped. She was 29 years old, unmarried, but every guy in the office had been drooling over her for a year, dreaming of seeing her naked just once. They said she was a former model, but she was a brainwasher better than any analyst. For me, it was like winning the lottery: two weeks in Kaliningrad with her alone. Anastasia came up, smiled dazzlingly and extended her hand: — Hi, Kolya. Ready f... continue reading

It was already dark outside, and the Moscow-Vladivostok train had just gotten underway. I was going on a two-week business trip and had booked the bottom berth in a four-berth compartment. When I got on, two female students were already there—clearly heading home. One was a brunette, about 20 or 21 years old, with luscious D-cup breasts that were so prominent even under her loose T-shirt that it was impossible to take your eyes off her. The other was a brunette with a slim waist, long, slender legs in short shorts, and a trim, model-like bottom. Both were incredibly cute and laughing at something on their phones. I introduced myself, and they smiled. "Katya," said the big-breasted woman, "Masha," the brunette. They immediately realized the ride was long, so they pulled a bottle of vodka, Coke, and chips from their bags. "Want some?" Katya asked with a wink. Of course I will. An hour later, we were on familiar terms. The train rocked, the night was flying past... continue reading

The phone rang at half past ten in the evening. Marina was already lathering up in the shower when the phone vibrated on the shelf. The screen read, "Viktor Petrovich – Dima's boss." - Hello? - Marinochka, hi. Are you still awake? - No... what happened? Is Dima okay? "Everything's fine with Dima. Almost. It's just that there's something we need to talk about, and it's better not over the phone. Could you come to my office now? It concerns his promotion. And your future, too, by the way." Marina froze. Her husband had been waiting for this position for three months already, and Viktor Petrovich was a real dog, everyone in the department knew. But she couldn't refuse. - Okay... I'll be there in forty minutes. She quickly pulled on black lace stockings with a wide cuff, a red thong, a short dress, and heels. "Just in case," she thought, though her insides were already clenching with anticipation. The office was almost empty. Only the... continue reading

My name is Alexey, I'm thirty-two, and I'm a regular office guy—not a muscle man, not an alpha male, just a husband who loves his wife Olga more than anything in the world. We've been together for six years, and our sex has always been normal: gentle, predictable, a couple of times a week. But Olga... she changed after we started going to this new fitness center on the outskirts. She's twenty-eight, and her body is on fire: firm C-cup breasts, a flat stomach, a round ass that I loved to squeeze at night. She's always been active, but when that black trainer Darius showed up, everything went to hell. Darius was a monster. Two meters tall, shoulders wider than a doorway, skin the color of dark chocolate, muscles rolling beneath him like steel cables. All the women in the gym were staring at him, and he'd smile that toothy grin and say in a deep bass voice, "Lady, let's do another set." Olga signed up for his personal training a month ago. At first,... continue reading

I hate reserved seats. That smell of boiled chicken and other people's socks, mixed with the vibration of the wheels. But cheap tickets to Adler left me no choice, and my husband, Seryozha, as always, insisted: "Why are you acting like you're not my family? Let's sit here, have some vodka, it's romantic." Fucking romantic. Seryozha was already drunk by the third stop. He'd grabbed a bottle of Belenkaya at the station and sipped it while eating dried vobla until his eyes went wide. Now he was snoring on the top bunk, his arm dangling, and I was simply embarrassed. Embarrassed in front of my fellow passengers. And my fellow travelers were distinguished. Down below, across from me, sat two guys. They were about twenty-five to twenty-seven years old. Muscular, clean-shaven, wearing tracksuits. Judging by their conversation, they were heading to Krasnaya Polyana, either to grill shashlik or for some shady business of their own. The big guy with the "Wind R... continue reading