One time, I went to sleep over at a friend's house after her birthday. Her parents were away on a weeklong business trip, so it was just me and her and two of her friends the same age. She'd already invited them when I called and said, "Come over, we're going to have a blast tonight, no holds barred." I decided to wear a short skirt, a crop top, and a thong because I knew what was going to happen. I was free, the alcohol was already in my system, and I just decided to let loose. A friend opened the door; she was really happy I'd arrived and wasn't afraid. She introduced me to the guys—there were three of them. It was clear I was scared, but she assured me they were nice and wouldn't hurt anyone. We immediately went to the kitchen, turned on some music, and poured ourselves a glass. We drank to our new acquaintance. We started chatting, laughing, and dancing in the kitchen. Then I noticed my friend kissing a guy by the window, while the other one had h
i might as well tell the rest of the story from my roadtrip with my roommate but we had a mutual guy friend. she told me they'd been secretly hooking up for a few months. i said i want to try having sex with a guy. so she had him over and they started touching and making out hard. i watched her give him a blowjob for a few minutes. his eyes flicker over to me nervously and it gave me butterflies each time. she told him he could fuck me if he wanted. i was still nervous so i got on top and sat on his pelvis. he grabbed my hips and nudged his dick against me between my ass. i could feel the heat from his tip poking my back. when i looked down at him he was completely at my mercy. his arms were huge this guy was like 6'4 he could break me in half and he was desperate. his strength was powerless to me, desperately trying to nudge so he could get inside me. she ran her hand through his hair and told him it was my first time. she was kneeling right behind me. but when he heard it
“What are your feelings about free-use?” Two pairs of blue eyes stared at me from the couch. Sabrina’s friend Allie was in town for the weekend and they had come knocking on my door, two bottles of wine in tow. I later found out Sabrina had told her so much about me she couldn’t wait to meet this neighbor across the hall. All I knew about Allie was that they had been friends for about a decade, that she had red hair and that she was gorgeous. Drunken giggles accompanied the soft knock at the door. Allie wanted to meet the sexy boy across the hall. Can we come in? We brought party favors!” Sabrina’s 5’2” frame stood at my door, her deep brunette hair was curled, lying against her low-cut white blouse, perfectly framing her D cups, which were boosted to a deep cleavage. Allie stood next to her holding the wine bottles. “Hi! I’m Allie! I really wanted to see the face behind the stories she’s told me” Allie was slightly shorter, 5’0”, maybe 5’1”. Sabrina had told me she was gorgeous,
Oleg and Nastya moved into their first apartment at the end of August. The renovation was completed quickly, the furniture was arranged, the boxes unpacked—and then Nastya said, "We should invite the neighbors over and introduce ourselves." Oleg frowned at first, but then agreed. The apartment was small, a two-bedroom apartment on the third floor, but the living room had room for a table and some room to spare. Nastya was a short girl with rounded hips and small breasts. Oleg was slightly taller than her, of average build, with a short haircut and a habit of constantly fiddling with things. They had been together for three years, previously renting a room near the metro, and now they had their own place. They knew their neighbors only by sight. Across the street lived a young couple—Denis and Lena, both in their early thirties, unencumbered. Upstairs lived Igor, a man in his forties, divorced, living alone. Downstairs lived Timur, an athletic-looking guy who worked either in
The hotel was called "White Sail"—a silly name, but with a certain pretentiousness. Three stars, all-inclusive, buffet from seven to ten, heated pool, but not deep. Lena and I chose it for its affordability and proximity to the sea. Or rather, to the sea because of its proximity. To the affordability because of its inevitability. We arrived on Saturday morning, tired and grumpy after a six-hour layover. Lena went straight to her room to catch up on sleep. I went to the pool bar to drink beer and look out at the sea. The bartender was a local guy. About twenty-five, maybe younger. Dark-skinned, black-haired, with a smile that seemed to never fade. He was wiping down the counter and chatting with someone in Italian—quickly, sing-songly, waving his arms as if conducting an invisible orchestra. I ordered a beer. He nodded, opened the bottle, and placed it in front of me. And said: - Russian? - Russian. “Good.” He smiled wider. “I like Russians. They drink a lot and talk little.”
That day, I returned home earlier than usual. Not that much earlier—about an hour, maybe an hour and a half. It was just that the office renovations had been delayed indefinitely, and the boss, with a wave of his hand, sent us all home. I was actually glad: I could collapse on the couch and watch something until Nastya got home from work. But Nastya was already home. I realized it right away—her sneakers were standing in the hallway, thrown haphazardly, with her socks sticking out of one. Next to them were men's shoes. Not mine. My first thought was stupid: a plumber. But a plumber wouldn't leave his shoes behind. A plumber would leave his boots, heavy work boots, with the laces untied. But these were leather, polished, with a neat, narrow toe. The kind worn by men who take care of themselves. I put the bag on the floor. Quiet. Too quiet for repairs. A sound came from the bedroom. Soft, rhythmic. The creaking of a bed—our bed creaked just like that, in one spot, at the foot
Hello everyone. This is pure fantasy. Any coincidences are purely coincidental. "A strange gift in a rented apartment" is another dirty story about silicone skin and abnormal sizes. Swearing, crude language, milk, urine, and torn holes. There is no realism and there never will be. If you don't like it, close it. For everyone else, have a nice day. The apartment reeked of dampness and cheap air freshener, which hadn't masked the smell of sweat and semen in a long time. Alina stood by the window, adjusting her short red dress, which barely stretched over her silicone breasts and swollen ass. Her heels dug into the linoleum. The neighbors on the other side of the wall were already yelling—either they were having sex or arguing. She didn't give a damn. The client had promised to come with "something special," and the money in the envelope was supposed to last a week. The door opened without ringing. A man walked in, closed it behind him, and tossed a package
Dev has been fucking me for months. Regular thing. Nothing complicated. He comes over, we fuck, sometimes Cole is there, sometimes he's not. Standard arrangement. I've written about it before. What I haven't written about is the conversation we had two weeks ago where I told him to stop pulling out. We were in bed after he'd just finished. He'd pulled out and come on my stomach like he always does because that was the agreement. I was lying there looking at the ceiling with his cum drying on me and I felt annoyed. Not at him. Just. Annoyed. "I want you to cum inside me next time," I said. He propped himself up on one elbow. "You sure?" "I wouldn't say it if I wasn't sure." "Kim." "Dev." He looked at me for a long second and then he leaned down and kissed me and his hand slid between my legs where I was still wet and sensitive and he said "Yeah okay" against my mouth and I felt my whole body light up. Next time was two days later. A Friday night. Cole was out so it was just us
Her dark brown eyes glistened with moisture as she choked on my cock, but she still didn't break eye contact. As the tip pushed against the back of her throat, she sat up and adjusted to let it slide further down. She began flexing and contracting her throat to massage my cock as it slipped as far down as it could go. She let my balls roll gently through her dexterous fingers while the other hand rested on my body. My eyes rolled into the back of my head and I gripped her hand. She pulled back up to catch her breathe, then went back to rhythmically bobbing up and down, twisting her mouth and flicking her tongue all over my shaft. It was wet, loud, and sloppy. "Oh fuck, I think I'm gonna..." I started. "I..." I could barely speak. She took one last deep breathe then pushed my cock down her throat once again. The combination of throat contractions and tongue stroking had me cumming in seconds. Each shot deposited directly into her stomach. My body tightened and lifted with each pump l
Why is it that when you're thirty-two, running a department, with your own apartment, car, and complete independence, everyone thinks you're deeply unhappy? Marina threw her phone down on the couch in irritation. Another "kind" friend had sent her a link to a dating site with the caption, "Well, at least try it, okay?" Try it. As if they were talking about a new kind of tea, not a real person. She walked to the window, hugging herself. Outside, November drizzled, gray and hopeless, making her feel even more miserable. Her friends had long since married, had children, and were now trying with enviable persistence to arrange her personal life. "Marisha, you're not made of iron," they'd say, sighing meaningfully. Iron. Maybe she was. In three years of running the department, she'd learned not to show emotion, not to trust first impressions, and not to mix work with personal matters. Especially the latter. At work, everything was stable and pr
My father married when I was already nineteen. I was a sophomore then, living in the dorm, and coming home on weekends—just to do laundry, get a decent meal, and so on. My mother had left us even earlier, three years earlier, and my father was alone for a long time. I got used to the quiet house, the smell of old books and his tobacco, the same mug always standing in the kitchen, and dumplings and beer in the fridge. And then he called and said he was married. He just presented me with a fait accompli. I didn't even know how to react right away. I just asked, "Who?" He replied, "Come over and meet me." Her name was Irina. She was thirty-two. I remembered the number because it somehow immediately stuck out to me—thirty-two, and my father was forty-eight. I thought then: well, it happens. Anything can happen. Maybe she needs an apartment, maybe something else. Anyway, I didn't really worry about it. I had enough of my own problems—sessions, a part-time job, I h
I was in college and had met a girl on tinder. We talked for a couple weeks or so and ended up meeting out at a bar one night (both of us 21). Her dorm roommate was there as well. We got some drinks, played some pool, had an overall good time. Things started to wind down and the girl I was with (Hannah) and I were going to walk back to her dorm room. Her roommate said she was gonna go by another friend’s apartment for a while. We get back to her dorm room and we’re laying on her bed watching a movie. It’s a standard small dorm room with her bed on one side of the room and her roommates bed on the other side. After some of the movie, bodies get closer, hands start wondering, and clothes start hitting the floor. After some foreplay we begin having sex. First in missionary, then to doggy. I’m not sure if it was the sound of the movie, our buzzed state, or just locked in the moment of sex, but neither of us heard the door open. Sarah - “Oh shit I’m so sorry” She was already a step or
If someone had told me I'd be spending the night on the veranda with two groomsmen at my best friend's wedding, I'd have been shocked. I've always been the good girl in our group. That is, the one who makes sure no one overindulges, collects everyone's phones and purses, calls taxis, and reminds everyone that they have to go to work the next day. Even the bride's mother praised me all evening: "This is someone we should follow." I smiled modestly and adjusted the strap of my dress. The dress, by the way, was mint-colored, with an open back. I spent three weeks choosing it and was unsure until the very last minute if it was too bold. Anya said, "Take it, you look like a queen in it." Anya always makes all the decisions around here. The wedding turned out to be a big one. Seventy people, a country house rented for two days, a tent in the courtyard, live music, a toastmaster with below-the-belt jokes that everyone pretended not to hear. I was run
I'll tell you how I fucked my former classmate, now a neurologist. It all started when I started having some strange pain in my groin. My wife said, "Go see a doctor, stop putting up with it." So, I made an appointment at a private clinic to avoid lines and prying eyes. I show up, sit in the hallway, and wait. The nurse calls out, "Come in, room twelve." I walk in and am stunned. Sitting at the desk is Olya Smirnova, my classmate about ten years ago. She's aged, sure, but not much. She still has the same bangs, but instead of jeans and a sweater, she's wearing a white coat. "Wow," I say. "Olya? Is that you?" She looked up, squinted, then smiled: - Oh, my God. I didn't think you'd end up here. Come on, sit down and tell me what's bothering you. I sat down and began to explain. She listened, nodded, and wrote something down. Then she said: - Okay, let's watch. Lie down on the couch and take off your pants. Well, I undressed.
Hello everyone. It's me again, and again, the story isn't about me. Or rather, it's about me, but not in the way you might think. This time, the story is told from the perspective of a man—an acquaintance of mine with whom I once got to talking about this topic. He allowed me to record it but asked not to use his real name. Let's call him Igor. He's 34, lives alone in a rented one-room apartment on the outskirts, and works remotely in IT. I'm quoting his words almost verbatim, only editing them a bit for readability. So. It happened last fall. I was working on a project, sleeping five hours a night, and eating whenever I had to. That night, I finished a call around twelve thirty, realized I hadn't eaten anything decent all day, and went to the app to order something. I opened it, chose burgers, fries, and a cola. I looked at the delivery time—thirty-five minutes. Okay. I ordered, went to take a shower, and then sat down to finish watching the series. The
Note: I have somehow been lucky enough to have a lot of sex, so I wanted to document some of these experiences. They are all 100% true (except names). Just as a point of reference, there is nothing at all special about me physically (6'1, 210, shaved head, blue eyes, tattoos, athletic build) But as my friends often say, i have fallen into more than my unfair share of sex than anyone they know- Julie and I had originally met at work, which is probably why nothing sexual had ever happened between us, that and a 15 year age gap. 8 years later and still just platonic friends, she had just come out of an ugly divorce, when she decided to have a baby on her own through IVF. After settling into new motherhood, we had made a plan for me to stop by so we could catch up, as we had both been busy. When I got there, we said our hello’s- damn I forgot how attractive she was. Julie is probably 5’5, 120 pounds, but with a really small waist and the type of ass that women all talk shit about and s
We moved into this house in May. It's a two-story building with four apartments, a small courtyard, and parking for two cars. Ours is on the far left, on the ground floor. The neighbor on the right is a man of about forty, lives alone. His name is simple, Sergey. He works from home, does something with computers. I've seen him a couple of times: going out for the mail, taking out the trash, sometimes smoking on the porch. An ordinary guy. Not fat, not thin, short, dark hair. Strong hands. For some reason, I noticed this right away—his hands. The first few weeks, we just said hello. "Good morning," "Good evening." Nothing more. His wife greeted him too, but casually, without stopping. Then one day, I came home from work, and she was standing next to him at the gate, laughing. He was telling her something, and she was listening. I walked over and said hello. Sergey nodded, saying that we had a nice yard, that it was quiet. I agreed. We went home. In the evening
Okay so this is going to sound insane to most people but to us it's literally just normal life at this point lol. So I live in a triple. One room, three beds, three girls. Me, Yara, and Delilah. When we first moved in we tried SO hard to be respectful about it. Like waiting until the other two were in class or showering or whatever to get ourselves off. But this is college and our schedules overlap constantly and the room is TINY and eventually we all just kept walking in on each other. The first time I walked in on Yara she had her hand down her shorts watching something on her phone with her earbuds in and she didn't hear the door and I stood there for a solid three seconds before she noticed and yanked her hand out so fast she almost dislocated her shoulder lmaoo. She was mortified. I told her I didn't care and that I'd literally been doing the same thing twenty minutes ago in the shower. After the third or fourth time it happened to all of us we just had the conversation. Yara w
I used to be SO embarrassed about this and now I'm sitting here typing it out with one hand between my legs so I think the embarrassment phase is over lol Quick backstory that matters: I was going through a rough patch and my best friend and her boyfriend let me stay at their apartment for a while. They gave me the spare room and didn't charge me anything and were amazing about the whole thing and I love them both for it :) What I did not anticipate was how OPENLY they fuck. Like I knew they had sex obviously but I did not know that "their apartment" meant "their sex was happening in every room at all times with doors open and zero concern about volume." The first week I was there I heard her cum through the wall so loud I thought she was being murdered. I walked out of my room and their bedroom door was open and I could see his ass in the mirror going to town and I just turned around and went back to bed and laid there listening and getting wet and feeling complicated about it. It
The festival had been going exactly as planned. We’d set up camp close to Louisa (18F) and her friends, partly because I’d been asked to keep an eye on her, and partly because my mates had immediately taken an “interest” in some of her friends. They were more than happy with the arrangement as we helped carry their alcohol from the car to camp. During the actual days everyone did their own thing though. We’d disappear into the crowds, occasionally see them all back at the tent to top up on alcohol levels, then head off again into the evening. It was just before the headline act when I went looking for some food and unexpectedly ran into Louisa. She looked slightly flustered having lost all of her friends and being unable to contact them. There’s like 100k people at the festival, so WhatsApp and texts just doesn’t go through until hours later. I got my food and waited for my mates with Louisa at a pre-agreed meeting spot. The main stage was filling up quickly, so we gave up after a w