That trip to the forest to pick berries hung over me from the very beginning, like a heavy premonition. Summer, heat, mosquitoes, and company: me, my wife Katya, her mother Irina Vitalyevna, and my brother-in-law, her younger brother Andrei. My mother-in-law always treated me... peculiarly. Not hostile, no. Too intently. Her dark eyes seemed to probe me, and her smile was always slightly ambiguous. At forty-five, she looked her best, but in a good way: a curvy figure that she didn't particularly hide, thick chestnut hair pulled back into a casual bun, and that way of dressing—summer dresses a little too tight, a little too short. We arrived at the edge of the forest and parked the car. The air smelled of pine needles, rotting leaves, and freedom. Katya, my sweet, naive Katya, immediately became captivated by blueberry picking. She'd always loved it. "Pash, let's split up, it's faster!" she suggested, handing us each a plastic container. "I'll go over... continue reading

I always thought our family was a typical mix of old grudges and new habits, especially after my father married Helen. She was in her late thirties, with those curvaceous figures she didn't hesitate to accentuate with tight dresses, and eyes that I sometimes caught looking at myself when she thought I wasn't paying attention. I, a twenty-two-year-old guy, had just graduated from college, returned home for the summer, and there we were, all in the country house—my father, my mother, and I. Vacation, supposedly. My father would disappear all day fishing or into the garage with the car, leaving the two of us to hang around the house, and Helen would flirt with me so subtly that I couldn't believe it—she'd brush my hip as she passed, or smile out of the corner of her mouth when I helped with the dishes. That evening, after dinner, when my father was already snoring in front of the TV in the living room, she approached me in the kitchen. "Listen, Alex," she said q... continue reading

I've been working at this office for six months now. During this time, I've never received a reprimand and have always performed my work with excellence. I'm almost 23 years old and eager to advance my career. I've been in the office of my boss several times, a woman whose name many colleagues were afraid to pronounce out loud. Vera Nikolaevna, a 38-year-old woman known for her strictness. A tall, stately woman with long legs and ample D-cup breasts, her red hair and green eyes intimidated many, especially when she lost her temper. When Vera Nikolaevna was angry, it seemed as if lightning flashed from her beautiful eyes, especially if one of her coworkers made a mistake. I was captivated by her as a professional and as a woman. When I brought her reports, I noticed how carefully she studied me. She never raised her voice at me and was always satisfied with my work. I like older women. With them, I can not only discuss various topics but also enjoy a unique sexual exp... continue reading

Violetta Alekseyevna was a fifty-three-year-old woman with a strong character and a well-developed sense of self-worth. She had been the hospital's chief physician for over ten years and was highly respected by her colleagues and patients. She had been married for many years and had an adult son who had long since moved on with his own life. Violetta was a woman of strict principles and strict rules. She always maintained strict discipline and expected the same from others. She was an intelligent, educated, and successful woman who knew what she wanted in life and how to achieve it. But despite her strict character and high standards, Violetta also had a secret that no one knew, not even her husband. She experienced unusual arousal when visiting the gynecologist. Moreover, she did so more often than was necessary. Unlike many of her colleagues, she preferred to undergo examinations not at the hospital outpatient clinic, but at a private clinic where a male gynecologist worked. I... continue reading

I always thought smell was the most important thing. Hot stone, oak whisk, kvassed bread for steam, and honey. And underneath it all, the scent of clean wood, warmed by human bodies. "Margarita's Bathhouse" was an expensive place, private, where people didn't just come to wash. They came to remove the crust from themselves, the one that accumulates from money, negotiations, and the eternal rush. And I, Marina, twenty-two years old, was part of this ritual. His name was Artyom. This was his third visit, and always only to me. Not the kind of brute who jumps in with his hands, no. Silent, with dark eyes that looked not at his body but right through it, as if searching for some kind of flaw within. Today he was especially exhausted. His shoulders were like boulders, his neck tense. I worked silently, the classic way. First, warming up, lightly tapping with a birch broom soaked in a basin of fragrant infusion. The steam room hummed like a living beast, the heat envelopin... continue reading

Let me start with my age. I'm 54. I recently went to the countryside to get some heating installed at our dacha. They put me up with an old lady who lived next door. She was an ordinary old lady, and very easy to talk to. She often used swear words in conversation, making jokes. Her jokes were often below the belt. She was pleasant-looking, plump, with a huge ass and seven-cup breasts. Her name was Anna Semyonovna. I arrived at the site in the late afternoon. When we sat down to dinner, she poured me a shot and shared it with me. I thanked her for the treat and went to bed. The next morning, my hostess woke me to the clatter of dishes as she bustled about in the kitchen. A light breakfast and I was already at the site, which was located on the neighboring property. I worked all day, breaking only for lunch. “And I’m following you,” I heard Anna Semyonovna’s voice as I was installing the fasteners. “What is it?” I responded. "Okay, it's time for lunch. War is war, but lun... continue reading

The beach was crowded. On this day, as luck would have it, the sun was merciless, forcing my friend and I to bury ourselves in the sand to avoid direct sunlight on our tender, youthful bodies. Vova and I were inseparable, so wherever he went, I went too. It was the same this time. Having suggested we take a stroll to the beach, I agreed without hesitation to what I considered a rash and ill-timed excursion. But there was no time to whine about it, as I was intrigued by the girls in bathing suits who seemed drawn to stroll by our lounge chair. I was certainly happy with the situation, but I wanted more. And I wanted instant, uncontrollable sex with these long-legged, busty furies. But this remained just an unrealizable fantasy, considerably overheated by the hot, parching sun. Having stopped dreaming of the impossible, I turned my attention to the next group of girls walking along the sand, deftly twisting their buns, inflaming in me the desire to make full use of their asses. "G... continue reading

Artyom stepped off the commuter train with a heavy backpack over his shoulders and immediately felt the hot July air envelop his skin. The station was almost empty, just an old woman with baskets and a couple of local kids on bikes. He texted Aunt Nika to let her know he'd arrived, and a minute later he saw her white SUV pulling into the parking lot. Veronika Sergeyevna stood by the open car door, wearing a light beige dress with thin straps. Her hair was pulled back into a loose bun, and she wore large sunglasses. She looked about thirty, at most, though Artyom knew for a fact she'd turned thirty-seven in January. She'd been divorced for three years, had no caravan, and lived alone in a large house outside the city, teaching yoga in two studios. "Well, hello there, nephew!" She smiled broadly, stepped forward, and hugged him so tightly that he felt her chest spring against him. Her scent was light, citrusy, with a hint of spice. The hug lasted a couple of second... continue reading

Life, like a river, flows along its course. At first, a turbulent, swift current sweeping away everything in its path, then a broad, full-flowing current, calm and predictable. But sometimes, beneath this apparent calm, deep and dangerous whirlpools arise. I'm thirty-seven. My name is Elena. My husband, Grisha, is forty-three, and I have been together for fifteen years. During this time, we've experienced everything: poverty, the first modest joys, arguments, reconciliations, and the joy of owning our first apartment. But our greatest asset, our shared project, into which we've poured our hearts, are our two children. But this story isn't about them. It's about Grisha and me. About that quiet, almost invisible crack that was slowly but surely spreading across the façade of our well-being. It all started around the time I turned thirty-five. I began to notice a strange, almost animalistic restlessness within me. It was as if a beast had awakened within, dormant al... continue reading

As you get older, you begin to truly appreciate the simplest things. For example, a solid, regular male erection. Now I think back to my youth—what a fool I was... How many guys I shaved. How many orgasms I missed... For some reason, I grumbled at my husband, who always needed something. And then... Then it turned out that I lived for several years without an erection. Fingers, vibrators, colorful dildos, even vegetables and fruits... What hasn't happened to me over the years... But it's all wrong. Nothing compares to the magic of a real, erect, and therefore valuable, male end. And yesterday I finally got that ending! I'm speaking in verse now because I'm happy. I've been working towards this for a very long time, and here it is! It's happened! To be honest, Petenka was drunk. I tried my best to make it happen at the office party. I shouted toasts, topped up his glass, offered him another drink. And when he was drunk enough, I offered to take him home in a t... continue reading

It all started so banally that it's even funny now. I was coming home from college, pulling into the entrance hall, drenched in sweat from the stuffy street, and she was just coming out of her apartment—Aunt Natasha. Our neighbor, in her forties. I always saw her as well-groomed, smelling of perfume and baked goods, a true homemaker. She was always smiling at me, asking about my studies, and there was something warm and maternal in her eyes. The guardian angel of our building. But today her gaze was different. Narrowed, appraising. I muttered "hello" and reached for my door. “Andryusha, wait a minute,” her voice, usually so clear, was now low and velvety. I turned around. She was leaning against the doorframe, wearing a light housecoat that outlined... God, it outlined everything. All those soft, seductive curves that I sometimes thought about out of the corner of my mind as I drifted off to sleep. "You're so disinhibited, poor thing. Session?" She took a ste... continue reading

My wife, Tonya, and I have been living as husband and wife for a whole year now. My name is Igor, and I'm thirty-two. My wife, Tonya, is only twenty-seven. There's a five-year age difference between us, but we don't feel it at all. I don't feel older, and she doesn't feel younger. We're just living. After my grandmother died, I inherited her one-room apartment in an old panel building. That's where Tonya and I are living. My wife doesn't want to have children yet. She keeps telling me that first we need to get back on our feet, pay off the loans, and do some renovations. Well, I'm not rushing her. I understand her concerns, so I don't bring it up myself, so as not to put unnecessary pressure on her. Tonya and I met under somewhat odd circumstances. She came to work for a new assistant. Our team was mostly male, and almost everyone was married. Tonya was young, vibrant, and immediately attracted attention. But she ignored the advances of single... continue reading

— Fuck, yes! More! Fuck me like this, deeper! My nails dug into the cool plastic of the kitchen countertop, and my entire body arched in a silent scream from a new, crushing jolt that echoed deep within, causing my insides to clench in a delicious spasm. Sweat trickled down my back, mixing with the tears of madness that rolled down my face. Strong, young hands gripped my hips, pressing them in with such force that there would definitely be bruises tomorrow. Bruises that I would proudly examine in the mirror, a crazy thought flashed through my head. "Mommy's just an insatiable whore," a low, commanding voice rasped right next to my ear, its roughness making me shudder with desire again. "It's been forty minutes, and you're still thirsty. There's already a puddle under you, see?" I lowered my head, trying to catch my breath. The floor did indeed glisten in the light of the kitchen lamp. A puddle. From me. From what he squeezed out of me again and again.... continue reading

My mother-in-law recently moved in with us. Antonina Gennadyevna is 56 years old now. She spent her entire life as the head of our foundry. She definitely didn't look 56; you wouldn't put her past 40. She had a big, toned butt, matching breasts, a stern face, and her hair was always pulled back into a ponytail. So my mother-in-law moved in with us. And as the old joke goes, she has already eaten away at her son-in-law’s, that is, me, brain. - I'll give your mother a punch in the face soon if she doesn't stop! "Seryozha, please forgive me, just be patient a little longer! She'll buy herself a new apartment soon and move out." "Yes, yes, then she'll need repairs, and who's going to help? Her son-in-law is a klutz, of course." - Well, Seryozha... Dasha kissed her husband's neck, then climbed under the covers and placed her husband's rather large penis in her mouth. She began sucking him vigorously, bringing him to bliss. Powerful stre... continue reading

Mikhail, a 25-year-old guy, immediately got a job as a security guard at a large corporation as soon as he returned from the army. For the past year, he'd been working as a driver for the CEO of this corporation, and it so happened that while driving his boss, he sometimes entrusted him with driving his wife to the gym or the spa. So they began an affair, during those days when he'd take his boss's wife to the spa or the gym, supposedly. They'd either rent a hotel room, or Misha would drive out into the woods outside the city, where they'd have sex like rabid rabbits. Natasha gave Mikhail a blowjob in the back seat of an expensive Maybach. — I witnessed a conversation here, the chief accountant needed a driver and security guard all in one for some business trip, I recommended you. Natalia said, pulling away from the member. - Why? I'm not bad here either, when such a milf gives me pleasure. Natalia was 13 years older than Mikhail. She was madly in love with... continue reading

- Kolya, you idiot, let me through!!! I'll be late for work!!! Kolya was, to put it mildly, a bad neighbor, and if not mildly, a jerk! Constant drinking, partying, music, and shouting until the early hours. And this very creature lived below us. And the worst part is, he was constantly picking on me and picking on me! At first, he just made stupid jokes and offered dubious compliments. Even though I'm 41 and he's a 23-year-old bitch!!! But no, he never let me pass in peace, I have a feeling that he constantly smokes in the entryway, 24/7, the asshole!!! And now, the bitch knows my husband left 30 minutes ago. And I'll tell you right away, I didn't say anything to my husband; this Kolya is as healthy as a battered horse and just as smart! And you can't report him to the police, what am I supposed to say? He won't let me go down the stairs? We live on the fifth, top floor, and he lives on the fourth. And now he's standing between the floors and won'... continue reading

I stood in the middle of the room, feeling completely naked, even though I was wearing simple black shorts and a T-shirt. My stepmother's command rang in my ears: "Wait. And behave yourself." Svetlana, my stepmother, sat on the sofa like a queen on a throne. Her legs, tanned and well-groomed, were gracefully crossed. On her feet were open-toed sandals with sky-high heels, accentuating every curve. Her pedicure was perfect, a blood-red polish, like drops of fresh blood on marble. She sipped her martini, her eyes sliding over me coldly and appraisingly. The door opened, and she walked in. Svetlana's friend, Veronica. I'd seen her a couple of times—tall, with shoulder-length dark hair and a piercing, predatory gaze. She was wearing a form-fitting black dress, and on her feet were the same sky-high stilettos, black, with pointed toes. “Veronica, my dear, come in,” Svetlana said languidly, without moving from her place. Veronica looked me up and down, a slight, mockin... continue reading

Grandfather Ivan sat in his chair, staring at the television, where the news blared endlessly. His head was racing, his thoughts lazy and fragmented. Life after seventy seemed like a drawn-out, slightly faded film. His body ached, his bones creaked, and the only thing that remained to remind him of his former strength and passion was the occasional morning when he rose, a stubborn and mute witness to the past. There was a knock on the door. First timidly, then more insistently. Ivan sighed, rose with a creak, and trudged to open it. Katya, the neighbor upstairs, stood behind the door. A young, devilish woman, about twenty-five. She wore a simple housecoat that had fallen open, revealing a deep neckline. Ivan couldn't help but glance down at the firm curves protruding from beneath the thin fabric and felt a familiar throb in his groin. "Uncle Vanya, I'm sorry to bother you," her voice was clear, a little guilty. "The faucet in my bathroom is leaking again, it'... continue reading

And again a night on the train. I can't stand it. It's stuffy, the wheels are rattling, the guy behind the wall is snoring like a tractor. I'm alone in my compartment, at least that's a plus. I'm sitting there, staring at my phone, I've already read all the news a hundred times. It's deadly boring. The compartment door opens. It's the conductor, Irina, by name, you can see it on the sign. She was checking my tickets when I was getting on, I liked her. Well, such a... mature woman. About forty, probably. But her figure is just the bomb, honestly. Such boobs that they just burst in her uniform, and the skirt fits tightly in all the right places. And a beautiful face, a little tired, but with some charm. “Would you like some tea?” he asks. Her voice is low, husky, very sexy. And I've already given up on the third can of energy drink so as not to fall asleep. “Come on,” I say. “Just make it stronger.” She pours from her thermos. She bends over, and I... continue reading

Aunt Olya is my mom's friend. A cool chick, about forty, but beautiful and well-groomed. Divorced a long time ago. A MILF, in a word. Mom always said: "Olya is so independent, a businesswoman." And I just saw a cool figure, big breasts and a smile that gave me an involuntary erection. It was just that my mom went to grandma's for the weekend, and Aunt Olya's home internet wasn't working. I'm still a student myself, studying to be a programmer, and I can 100% fix a router. She called my mom, who hired me: "Go to Olya's, help her, she's going crazy without internet." I came to her. She opened the door in her housecoat. Not exactly transparent, but worn on her naked body, I realized that right away. The tie was barely holding, and when she turned to adjust the slipper, I saw her entire back and the outline of her ass. So hard, so round. The blood rushed to my head. - Oh, Sasha, thank you for coming! - she says, smiling as if we weren't go... continue reading