It was a Saturday afternoon in July. The sun was at its zenith, and the air shimmered with heat. My parents had gone into town to shop, leaving me, twenty-three-year-old Liza, to have the dacha to myself. I put on my most revealing swimsuit—a tiny, sky-blue bikini with ties at the hips. After a moment's thought, I removed my bra, tossing it onto a nearby lounge chair. Sunbathing topless on my own property, surrounded by a high fence and not a soul, seemed like a wonderful and perfectly safe idea. My skin, slicked with coconut oil for tanning, glistened. I closed my eyes, turning my face and chest to the sun. A gentle breeze stirred my hair, pulled back into a loose bun. My thoughts drifted lazily, and I almost dozed off. My body was covered in a light sweat, beads of sweat rolling down between my breasts and onto my stomach. - Lisa, hi! Am I disturbing you? A voice came from somewhere off to the side, from the neighbor's fence. I sat up abruptly, instinctively covering my ch... continue reading

Those were hard times, but charming in their own way. I was working at the time for a company that sold everything from Turkish knitwear to computer diskettes. There was money, but there were also plenty of headaches. That's how I found myself in a reserved seat carriage on the Moscow-Kurgan train with a briefcase stuffed with cash. An astronomical sum by those standards—about twenty thousand dollars, I think. I was taking it to a business associate with strict instructions: don't meet anyone, don't drink, and don't leave the carriage. I chose a reserved seat on purpose—to blend in among the common folk, rather than be seen in the sleeper car, where every Tambourine punk identifies business travelers by the scent of their cologne. I rode on the bottom berth, pretending to be a tired worker, and gazed out the window at the passing birch trees. The boring town of Kurgan was still about eighteen hours away. At one of the stations—somewhere beyond Murom, I think—SHE floa... continue reading

To start, I’m a man who enjoys a decent backstory, so if you’d like to skip right to the dirt, find the line.

Back in my sophomore year of college, I had recently been dumped by my first and only girlfriend. It was a high school thing that didn’t survive the college experience as so many don’t. This left me with three things: a bruised ego, a starving cock, and an over abundance of time on my hands. The first two I simply tried to remedy with frequent nights out at the bar, but the excess time left me a bit listless.

I was studying STEM but had always had a passion for writing, so I decided to submit a short-story to a college sponsored contest and somehow ended up as one of the finalists. Next thing I know I’m receiving information about some event I’m supposed to attend in which I will meet other finalists and read a portion of the story in front of a crowd. Not exactly my scene, but fuck it, my ego could use the boost.

The night goes by without much excitement. I read my stuff al... continue reading

Friends think I'm a model family man. Colleagues think I'm a quiet, henpecked husband. But I'm just a guy who realized: my dick only gets hard when I know someone else has already been inside my wife. And the dirtier, the rougher it is, the more hands and dicks there are, the harder it shakes me. Polina understood this before I did. She brought me into this life—the life of a cuckold who waits in the bushes, in the closet, behind the vegetable crates. Waiting to lick it off later. My wife Polina had completely developed a taste for infidelity and no longer hid the fact that she enjoyed being used roughly, without ceremony. She began staying late more often "on business" and always returned home with that same smell that drove me crazy. In mid-August, Polina said she was going to the vegetable market to pick up some seasonal fruit. She was wearing a light summer dress that barely covered her butt, and no underwear. I immediately realized it had nothing to do with... continue reading

hey everyone i need to get this off my chest because its been replaying in my head nonstop since it happened.

**TLDR: this is about my close friend who broke his right arm pretty badly. his hand was stuck in a heavy cast and he was complaining nonstop about how frustrating everything was especially taking care of himself.**

**I ended up helping him out as friends and jerking him off hahahah**

\----

one night we were hanging out at his place just watching movies and he looked super tense.

he finally admitted he hadnt cum in over a week because jerking off with his left hand felt awkward and the cast made it impossible to get comfortable. i felt bad for him and one thing led to another and i offered to help him out.

at first he laughed it off thinking i was joking but when i stayed serious and told him it was no big deal between friends he got quiet. i could see the bulge already forming in his shorts just from the conversation. i sat closer on the couch a... continue reading

He had an important dinner with his partners, and he repeated a hundred times: "Be home by seven, don't let me down." And as luck would have it, I was stuck in a meeting, then traffic jams, my phone died... I burst into the apartment just after eight, sweaty, in a business suit, in heels, and from the moment I stepped inside I knew there was going to be a storm. He was sitting in the living room, in the semi-darkness. He wasn't shouting. He was just looking. His gaze made my insides clench. I started babbling about a meeting, about traffic jams, but he interrupted me very quietly: "You've embarrassed me. I've called ten times." "I tried..." "Shut up. Go to the bedroom. Stand facing the wall and wait." Goosebumps ran all over my body. I took off my shoes and walked wobbly to the bedroom. I stood up as he told me. My heart was pounding somewhere in my throat. A couple of minutes later he came in, and I heard him lock the door. I could te... continue reading

It all happened so quickly. My wife and I were fucking in our room when our dog started barking at the door.

“I heard someone knock,” my wife said.

Fuck. I grumbled. I pulled out of my wife and threw on a robe. Better go make sure it’s not an emergency. My dick is pretty big and it was still hard, so to hide it I tucked it under the robe sash which was tied around my waist.

At the door, I grabbed my dog's collar to make sure he didn’t run and reached towards the handle. When I opened it, there was a cutely dressed younger woman holding a clip board standing practically in my doorway.

“Hi there,” she drew out her greeting in a disarming innocent tone.

“Have you heard of \\\*her organization\\\*, we’re a nonprofit humanitarian group here in the area.” She smiled and looked down at my dog excitedly as she finished speaking.

“Oh hi,” I said. I really wasn’t expecting this.

“No I haven’t, but now really isn’t a good time sorry.” I replied, trying to be polite.

I was holding my... continue reading

I'm twenty-nine. I work for a large logistics company. In the sales department. Our team is small and close-knit. Dimon, Seryoga, and I are the trio that manages half the workload. And above us is Tatyana Leonidovna. She's the executive director. She's forty-three years old. She's a striking woman. Tall, stately, with the posture of a former basketball player. Broad shoulders, long, strong legs. Her C-cup breasts are always encased in formal blouses. Her butt is round and curved, tightly clasped by a skirt below the knees. She wears heels and clacks down the hallway so loudly that heads turn. Her hair is light brown, cut in a bob. Her face is well-bred, with fine features, and her gaze is sharp and commanding. She's been divorced twice. No children. She lives for her work. She had a rock-solid character. Her voice was well-trained and commanding. At the slightest provocation, she'd call you to the carpet and scold you so hard the walls would shake. But she wa... continue reading

Lera showed up at our apartment doorway late at night. Her eyes were tear-stained, her mascara smeared across her cheeks, and she was carrying the smallest duffel bag I'd ever seen. She and my friend Anton had had another huge fight, and she couldn't think of anything better to do than come over—she knew Anton was on a bender and spending the night away from home. My girlfriend was visiting her parents, so I had the apartment to myself. We drank tea in the kitchen, talking about the worthlessness of men in general and Anton in particular, and I caught myself staring at her knees, clad in thin nylon. I'd never had any thoughts about Lera. Seriously. Until that night, I'd simply seen her as a friend's girlfriend, attractive but forbidden. But now, as she sat across from me in a light housedress she'd clearly thrown on in a hurry, her body wrapped helplessly in a blanket, something dark and viscous began to brew inside me. I imagined lifting that dress, squeezin... continue reading

I was in my hometown for my cousin’s wedding. I had a lot going on at the office so it was a quick trip- flew in Friday and hung out w my brother and his girlfriend, brunch w my parents on Saturday and then the rehearsal dinner, and the wedding was to be Sunday afternoon at the botanical garden.

One of my best childhood friends, Zoe, still lived in my hometown. Zoe is 3 years older than me and in that sense was always my older, cooler friend. We had a lot of very good mutual friends and hung out a lot in the summers.

We became especially close while I was in college; she lived close to the university that I attended at the time and we took road trips, drank beers, went camping etc. Over the years that we spent hanging out, both of us had a number of a significant others and so we were never really romantically involved (save for a drunk make out session one night in NYC).

I let Zoe know I’d be in town for the wedding and we decided we should hang out if our schedules aligned. We... continue reading

He never imagined making house calls. But private practice dictated its own rules. Patients with money wanted comfort, privacy, and complete confidentiality. It was more peaceful for everyone. The only thing he firmly resolved for himself was no liberties. Under any circumstances. Examination, consultation, appointments—and goodbye. She scheduled an online appointment a week ago. She filled out the form as standard: routine checkup, twenty-four years old, no complaints. The voice on the other end of the line was young and slightly agitated. And there he stands at the door of her apartment with a medical kit. The door opens almost immediately. A short, red-haired girl with curls spilling over her shoulders stands before him. Her green eyes look at him with curiosity and poorly concealed embarrassment. She's wearing a light, champagne-colored silk robe, cinched at the waist with a belt. Beneath it, something decidedly more elegant than her usual lingerie is visible. “Come in, Doct... continue reading

A few years ago, post-COVID, Vegas was exploding with pent-up energy, and I was right there with it. I’d drive from LA every few months to blow off steam at the poker tables and enjoy the vibe of being around actual people after being locked in for a couple of years. This trip, I checked into the Cosmopolitan on a Monday, planning to grind $2/5 No Limit next door at the Bellagio by night and work remotely by day.

I hit the tables around 7 PM with $500 of chips, and luck was on my side. I doubled up early with AA cracking KK, pulled off a ballsy bluff, and then slowly grinded my stack up.

Shortly after I sat down, a stunning Japanese woman sat next to me. Mariko (as I later learned) was 27, petite at 5’4”, with sharp almond eyes framed by lush lashes, silky jet-black hair swaying to her shoulders, and an elegant vibe in her cashmere cardigan over a silk blouse and loose black pants hugging her curves just right. She had this refined poise, but damn, her presence lit a spark.

The tab... continue reading

Denis had gotten drunk again. No, it wasn't even offensive—it was somehow dull and familiar, like the creak of a cracked veranda door, the kind you hear every day and no longer notice. But today, that creak was the end of me. We'd only been at the dacha for three days, and I was dreaming of at least a little break from the city, but by lunchtime he'd already coaxed a bottle of cognac "for the shashlik" and by evening he was sprawled out in our summer bedroom, arms spread out, snoring rhythmically. He hadn't even properly undressed. I sat on the porch, smoking—I'd actually quit a year ago, but now I'd borrowed a pack from him—and watched the first streetlights flicker on over the neighboring property. A dull resentment throbbed in my neck. Thirty-six years old, and I was living with a man who preferred the bottle to me. The thought made me so bitter that I stood up abruptly, threw a light summer dress over my naked body, and went out the gate. Just to... continue reading

Back when I was in college one of the first people I met was this girl named Abby, we met during orientation and hit it off extremely well, but I came into college with a girlfriend so nothing happened. Over time I can realize that is definitely for the best as we have stayed close to this day and throughout all of college I wasn't closer with anyone. Abby had an extremely close friend Carmen who went to school a few states over, and I had briefly met as we converged to help Abby get over a breakup, but other than that I only heard about her in stories. Flash forward to the summer before my senior year, I was finally single after being in a relationship throughout all of college, and Abby says we should take a road trip to go to a concert with Carmen right before school starts back up. I am not a big concert person, but I love spending time with Abby so I agree to drive (I have a car) and spend the weekend away.

At this point I think truly nothing of it, just excited to get away fo... continue reading

It was that special time of September when summer still warms your shoulders, but the air is already filled with a piquant autumn chill. I sat on a bench in the old park, my legs crossed, scrolling through my phone feed. My skirt had ridden up a bit, revealing my tanned knees, but I didn't care—there wasn't a soul around. Or almost a soul. He appeared somehow unnoticed. Tall, wearing a light shirt with rolled-up sleeves, holding a book. He sat down on the bench next to me. I didn't pay attention at first, until I caught his gaze—not insolent, not undressing, but rather... scrutinizing. With the interest of an artist who has seen something curious. I chuckled to myself: "Well, well, come on." And he came over. He asked something about the park, about whether he would be in the way. One word led to another, and now we were strolling along a shady alley, his hand constantly touching my elbow. The leaves rustled around us, and the air smelled of rotten grass and, for... continue reading

Kira pushed a cart with a bucket and mop down the empty hallway of the seventh floor. The office building hummed with ventilation, and this monotonous sound was the night cleaner's only companion. She put in her headphones, turned on some music, and began mopping the floors—the rhythmic back-and-forth movements of the sponge, creating puddles of soapy water on the gray linoleum. Kira didn't notice the lights go out on the entire floor. The girl straightened up and pulled out her earphone. The silence was absolute, save for the sound of dripping water from a poorly closed faucet. Kira fumbled for a flashlight on the cart and switched it on. The beam revealed office chairs, monitors, and a ficus tree in the corner—a typical, deserted open-plan office. She took a step toward the fire door leading to the stairwell. The door was ajar, though Kira clearly remembered closing it an hour ago. A damp smell wafted through the doorway. The flashlight beam darted inward and rested on a b... continue reading

Night fell silently upon the house, shrouding the study in deep shadow. The candles had burned halfway, and in their flickering light, the Master's figure seemed carved from warm stone—he sat in the same chair, but now he held not a document but a thin glass goblet of dark wine. I entered precisely when he ordered me to appear—on the dot, having memorized my lesson. “Come here,” he said without turning around. I approached, knelt at his feet, and stood motionless, my hands clasped on my hips. I wore only the same cotton dress—at his command. The host placed his glass on the table and finally looked at me. His gaze slid over my face, neck, and chest, barely covered by the fabric. "Today you proved that you can wait," he began, his low voice sending shivers down my spine. "But true art isn't about freezing for an hour. It's about maintaining control when your body is screaming at you to stop. Are you ready for the test?" “Yes, Master,” I whispered, feeling... continue reading

I have some sexy stories and building sexual tension with both my female neighbors. This is another long one, but it's one of the sexiest situations I've ever had in my life and worth sharing. It involves my quiet sexy ginger milf neighbor.

The context is long, important, and also sexy. The story is extremely sexy.

((((((Context))))))

After spending years in an apartment, my wife and I sold that apartment and moved into a quiet neighborhood with a slightly larger home with more garden space.

We got to know one of our side neighbors quite well (future stories to come there), but the neighbor in this story we don't know very well. She is quiet, and since moving in we have exchanged introductions but outside of that she seems to keep to herself and doesn't aim to initiate any lengthy conversations unlike the other neighbor.

From what I knew so far, she lived there with her son who must be in his mid 20s and seems a bit lazy. In our few conversations I had learned he worked at... continue reading

I stood in the corner of his office, barefoot, wearing only a simple cotton shirtdress that barely reached mid-thigh. My hands were clasped behind my back, my chin raised—exactly as the Master demanded when we were in his workspace. He called it "the attention pose." And I hated waiting more than anything in the world. "You distracted me today," he said, not looking up from his papers. His pen scratched against the heavy paper, the only sound in the quiet office. "You knocked on the door three times, even though you knew I was busy. You put your impatience above my orders." I swallowed. The dark wood walls of the office seemed to weigh me down, and the smell of old books and candle wax only reinforced the feeling that I had done something unforgivable. “Look at me,” he ordered coldly. I turned my head and met his gaze. He sat behind a massive oak desk, wearing a pristine white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows—his workaday appearance always made... continue reading

Another story from when I was in college, which I'm sure surprises no one if you've read any of my other experiences. The sexy parts start after the **\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*** if you want to skip the build up.

Like many colleges, mine had an exchange program between several countries. Sweden, Korea and England were the 3 I was familiar with because I had classes with people from those countries in my major. In general, I didn’t get to know many exchange students very well. I did, however, have a class with a girl named Yoo. From what I understand, many Korean exchange students will adopt an American name as a way to adapt to the culture, so Yoo went by Julie. Julie was learning English by immersion. She spoke just enough to communicate with her classmates.

Julie sat by me in class and anytime we had group work I asked if she wanted to be in whatever group I was in. Sometimes she joined and sometimes she didn’t, but she always worked hard on her parts and we’d help her fill in gaps if... continue reading