I met her in the park completely by chance. It was July, hot, and I was sitting on a bench in the shade, drinking kvass and staring blankly around. She walked past, and I didn't even remember her face at first—I rarely remember faces when I see something that blows my mind. She was wearing white high-heeled sandals. The straps were thin, wrapped around her ankle, the soles were red, and her toes—neat, with a scarlet pedicure—were just visible from beneath the straps. And her gait. That gait when a woman knows she's being watched. Her feet were planted firmly, her heels touching the pavement first, then rolling smoothly, her calves tensing, her tendons taut. I watched her go. Then I saw her sit down on the bench next to me, take out her phone, and scroll through something. She crossed her legs, one on top of the other, her shoe dangling from her toes. I watched and felt my mouth go dry. I should have been drinking valerian root, not kvass. My name is Vika, twenty-six, a haird... continue reading

I'd like to share a recent story that happened to me last week. My wife and I invited her best friend, Lena, over to our house for the evening. The reason was simple – to hang out, have a drink, and chat about life. Lena had recently broken up with her boyfriend, and my wife decided to cheer her up. To be honest, I've always secretly glanced at Lena – she's tall, slender, with long legs and well-groomed feet, which she loves to show off in open-toed shoes. I've had a foot fetish since childhood: I adore beautiful women's feet, pedicures, and massages – that's what turns me on the most. We sat in the living room and opened a bottle of wine, then a second. Conversation flowed easily, jokes, reminiscing. My wife, Masha, got drunk faster than everyone else—she's a lightweight when it comes to that sort of thing. Lena held out longer, but she, too, was flushed and giggling at my every word. At one point, Masha said she'd go lie down on the couch in the bed... continue reading

Slow is better...

The wife was supposed to arrive tomorrow.

I had to spend another evening alone.

I went to the store and bought a bottle of beer. Taking advantage of the fact that it got warmer outside, he began to drink beer right on the street, slowly puffing on a cigarette. Since I had not yet had dinner, I quickly felt that my head was spinning pleasantly, and I thought about what to prepare for the arrival of my wife.

I decided that I would buy a bottle of champagne, give her an essential oil bath, and give her a massage after the bath. I immediately remembered how I saw an erotic massage on TV, and there they used a cream so that the hands would slide more easily.

I went to the pharmacy and bought an oil with the intriguing name EROS and the promise that after this oil the erogenous zones would be more sensitive.

I was in some kind of excited anticipation. Never have I been so long without a wife since I began to live a regular life with her.

For 4 years, I got use... continue reading