My boyfriend’s family is super close, so I’m over all the time. His sister has been my low key crush since I met her. We flirt in that “is it joking?” brushing hands, compliments that linger, changing in front of each other when I sleep over.

Last weekend we’re all at their parents’ house. Boyfriend runs out for pizza, parents at the neighbor’s. It’s just us in his old bedroom “looking for his yearbook.”

Door shuts. She sits on the bed, pats the spot next to her.

“Truth or dare?”

I pick dare.

She smirks: “Kiss me. For real this time.”

I do. Soft at first, then deeper, her hand sliding under my tank, mine in her hair. Next thing I know tops are off, bras gone, her mouth on my nipple while I’m gasping into her pillow that still smells like my boyfriend.

She pushes me back, peels my shorts off slow, fingers tracing everywhere she’s been staring at for months. Slides two inside me easy I’m soaked curls them perfect while her tongue circles my clit.

I come fast, legs shaking, biting... 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

It was early in the morning, so early the sun wasn’t even up yet. I had tossed and turned all night and now I was staring at the ceiling trying to think of anything else. My dreams had all been a blur, but they left an impression. A need that I woke up with and that pained me. I touched myself but it wasn’t enough. I huffed and turned kver, trying to go back to sleep but the need was too much. I needed to do something about it.

I threw the blankets off and walked down the hall. I peeked into Josh and Josie’s room. They were both asleep but I pushed common sense aside and snuck in. Josh was at the edge of the bed and it only took a few taps to wake him up. I put my fingers to his lips to keep him quiet and then took his hand. I tugged him out to the hallway and I didn’t even get to my room. I leaned against the wall and pressed his hand between my thighs, he touched me through my panties beneath my large shirt. I moaned, trying to grind down on his hand. He was still half asleep as he... 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

Up until my senior year of college, including my study-abroad term, I had roommates. In fact, my freshman year and study abroad semester I actually shared a bedroom with another dude. Finally, my senior year, I was living completely alone. Beyond my own bedroom, I had my own kitchen and den. I could come and go as I pleased, and if I were lucky enough to bring a girl back with me, there were never any distractions from a roommate/suitemate or their respective guests. By far, I got the most pussy of my college career my senior year, but, ironically, as often as I hooked up that year, I got about as many rejections. It was a numbers game, and I made a move on every girl with whom I thought I had the slightest opportunity ... every girl except one.

I met Laura in a journalism class I was taking. Once we got to talking, it was revealed that we lived in the same apartment building! I asked if I could stop by, and she was cool with that. So I did, and we really enjoyed each other's company.... continue reading

I’ve been best friends with his daughter, sleeping over almost every weekend. Her dad has been my quiet crush forever. For months I’ve been pushing it: “forgetting” a towel after showers so I walk past him in just a thong, wearing his old band tees with nothing underneath, bending over in tiny shorts when he’s on the couch.

He always looked, clenched his jaw, but never touched.

Last night my friend passed out early after too much wine, upstairs in her room. I’m in the basement “watching a movie” in his oversized flannel (stolen from the laundry) and lace panties, legs tucked under me on the couch.

He comes down for a “nightcap,” sees me in his shirt, stops dead.

“You’re killing me, kid.”

I bite my lip, uncurl my legs slow, let the flannel ride up.

“Then stop fighting it.”

That’s all it took.

He’s on me in two steps, lifting me off the couch like I’m nothing, laying me back on the thick rug in front of the TV. Flannel unbuttoned gentle, panties peeled off and tossed aside.

He k... continue reading

The stuffiness in the car gave way to a sharp December chill as I stepped out into the bumpy parking lot of the Taiga bathhouse. Steam billowed from the exhaust, as if the car itself had breathed a sigh of relief. I had come alone—on purpose. After three months in the smoke-filled office, after his calls begging me to come back, I needed a shake-up. Or oblivion. A bathhouse, I decided. Alone. The old log cabin had turned black with age. Inside, it smelled of smoke, damp wood, and something deeply earthy. The owner, a woman with a tired face and nimble hands, handed me a sheet and a broom. "Are you taking the whole hour?" she asked again. "It's free until eight. Just... It's a wood-burning stove, so you have to heat it yourself. Can you handle it?" I nodded. Drowning is even better. It'll keep my hands and mind occupied. The dressing room was quiet and empty. I slowly undressed, looking at my reflection in the fogged window. The thinness he'd called &#... continue reading

The morning started out great. I'm the first one who has to leave for work, and Maddie and Ryan have plenty of time to spend together before they have to get ready, and a lot of the time they really make the most of it. It's pretty unfair that I miss out on the morning fun when I'm such a morning girl. So that day was lovely because I got to do my part.

I got the best snuggles between my loves, Maddie kissing my face like she does that lets me know how much I'm treasured, long kisses on my cheeks and my forehead, her hand in my hair, long looks from her brilliant green eyes, her beautiful smile, a little kiss on my nose that makes me giggle, and Ryan behind me with that big hard cock against my ass. It's my happiest place. Those are the moments I really need, the moments that mean more than the crazy things we do.

It was so warm and cozy and I was so loved and happy, and Maddie asked if I was going to be good and take care of them before they went to work. Of course! I'm such a good... continue reading

The office at night. A quarter of the plan was overfulfilled—the boss, happy as a clam, left first, leaving a couple of thousand on the table for "pizza." The pizza was eaten, the money spent on whiskey and gin. Music from the JBL speaker blasted something dance-like, causing the monitors on the desks to vibrate. By eleven, there were only four of us left out of fifteen: me, Anton—our lead developer, a thoughtful and quiet man; Katya from the marketing department—a redhead with a sharp tongue and a laugh that stirred something deep in your stomach; and Lisa, the new support intern, sweet and a little shy, with wide eyes, who had drunk more than anyone else today, apparently to cope with her embarrassment. The dancing between the tables slowed, grew more intimate. I caught Katya's eye as she tilted her head back and ran her hand down her neck. Her gaze was warm, appraising. The whiskey was doing its job, sending a viscous, daring warmth through my veins. "It's kin... continue reading

This will be a quick story since it's my first time. More to come if the reviews are nice :)

I've always had a crush on my neighbor since I moved in a few years ago. It all started when I was loading the last of my boxes from my car into the house. Instead of asking first, this man grabbed a box, turned to me and said "Hi my name is Mike, welcome to the neighborhood." I swear I would have sucked him dry right then and there if I wasn't so exhausted!

Life had been tough since moving on from a previous relationship. Not to bore with the details since you probably have your dick in your hand (hopefully). I've seen Mike off and on when I'm coming and going, as well as his wife. I swear guys, EVERY time I catch a wave or smirk from him I can feel my pussy convulse. Multiple times I've had to masturbate in the doorway as soon as I get inside.

Well, one very horny day I catch my neighbor with his shirt off, mowing the grass. I wave quickly, my hardened nipples most likely telling my secre... continue reading

The office was already empty. The silence was broken only by the insistent hum of the system unit under the desk and the occasional click of the keyboard. Alina glanced at the clock in the corner of the monitor: 9:47 PM. In thirteen minutes, her long, hard-won weekend would begin, and she was still tinkering with that damn quarterly report. One error in the pivot table, one incorrect link—and that would be it. Her dream of four days on the couch, drinking wine and watching TV shows was melting away before her eyes. She stretched, hearing a crack in her back. The black tights beneath her formal black pencil skirt rubbed slightly against the leather of the office chair. She'd kicked off her high heels an hour ago, and now her numb toes rested against the cool laminate flooring. Her white blouse was unbuttoned at the top two buttons—a small rebellion against the corporate dress code in the empty space. It was at that moment that the door to her open office creaked softly. “Are you... continue reading

The New Year's office party was at the penthouse on floor forty-five, and I was late, as usual. The black dress I'd bought with my last money turned out to be a weapon of mass destruction: it hugged every inch of me, and the neckline was so low I could feel the air conditioning blowing in the most unexpected places. The elevator—the only way up—gleamed like polished steel. I flew into it in high heels, almost tripping, and heard a calm male voice: - Allow me. He was already inside. Tall, in a perfectly tailored dark blue suit, jacket off, his tie loose around his neck. His gaze was appraising, but not insolent. I nodded, slipped into the corner, and pressed "45." His long, neatly manicured finger reached out next to him and pressed "48." We stood with our backs to each other, reflected in the mirrored walls. He smelled of something woody and cold, like a winter forest. The elevator slowly rose. I adjusted a strand of hair and caught his gaze in the reflection... continue reading

We were celebrating our anniversary at a high-end luxury spa-hotel. My wife, stunning as always, had spent the morning being pampered. I’m not a massage person—I find the forced relaxation awkward—so I hit the gym instead.

When we reunited, she had a predatory little smirk on her face. "I booked a session for you at 5:00," she said, stretching out on the king-sized bed.

"Honey, you know I hate those," I protested. "It’s a waste of money."

She just put a finger to her lips, shushing me with a wink. "Trust me on this one. It’s my gift to you. Go."

I walked into the spa room at 5:00 PM to find Alina waiting. She was a striking woman, but her most "impressive" feature was impossible to miss: a massive pair of breasts that seemed to strain against the buttons of her professional tunic.

"Your wife is delightful," Alina purred. "We had such a... deep conversation about you."

I lay on my stomach, and she began. She was strong, her hands slick with warm oil. But as she leaned over to work... continue reading

The champagne was crap, but Lera was drinking it for the third glass in a row just to keep her hands occupied. The party was raging all around her: someone was shouting toasts from the balcony, bodies were rubbing against each other in the living room to wild indie rock, and someone's whiskey collection was already being sorted out in the kitchen. She felt like a ghost—in her most revealing black dress, which was supposed to inspire confidence but instead only exposed her back and made her cringe at the looks. New Year's. Again. Noise, hubbub, false laughter. She leaned against the doorframe between the kitchen and the packed loggia, watching the glamorous presenters counting down the final minutes on the TV. Her head was pounding with alcohol and fatigue. Her last boyfriend, Artyom, had been an ex for six months, and their sex, frankly, had been as predictable as this party. Carefully, according to schedule, in the same position. No madness. No loss of control. "Fuck,&#... continue reading

First off, this actually happened almost 10 years ago now. I've never shared anything about it online and only a few close friends know about it in real life. This is the first time I'm writing it all down from memory. When I was 26 I matched with my old middle school teacher on Bumble - she was 54. At first I didn't know it was her because her pics didn't show a lot of her face, which makes sense because she was still a teacher at the time (she's now retired so I feel more comfortable sharing the story).

I had fantasized about sleeping with an older woman for a long time and her pictures on her profile were very sexy (amazing body, especially for her age) so naturally I was pretty excited when we matched and started talking. We had really good chemistry through text, making each other laugh and talking about what we wanted to do to each other if we were to meet in person. Eventually she asked me where I went to middle school and I told her. She confessed that she was my middle school... continue reading

Night had enveloped the city. The moon shimmered in the sky, surrounded by stars like a circle. I stepped outside into a pleasant, warm day. A gentle breeze blew, fluttering the leaves, and I walked forward, determined to take a stroll. I was dressed charmingly. No underwear, just black lace fishnet stockings and red open-toed shoes... On top, I wore a snow-white, translucent blouse and a short black skirt that barely covered my butt. I must say, I looked amazing. I'm 5'4" tall and weigh 167g. My breasts are a D cup, and my large nipples are visible through my blouse... It was nice to stroll through the park, feeling the breeze between my legs. How he caressed me, oh, that libertine!)) I was humming one of my tunes cheerfully as I walked along the park path. It was quite dark, and only the moon lit my way. As I turned the corner, I felt someone's presence. It was a little frightening and at the same time incredibly arousing... I felt my nipples tense in anticipation.... continue reading

There's a darkness within each of us. For some, it's thicker, while for others, it's a barely perceptible, yet still dirty, cloud. Some hide their dark side from society, while others are mostly pure and bright, but somewhere deep within them lie hidden actions that are best left unseen. This story centers on an ordinary married couple. The husband, let's call him Nikolai, the wife, let's call her Nina, and a son and daughter, whose names are of no use to us. And then something happened in their lives that could tear the family apart. His loving and beloved wife, in every sense, was recovering from her second childbirth, and Kolya couldn't be happier. She was becoming more beautiful, and most importantly, the spark that had once attracted him was rekindled. Nina was regaining her usual self-confidence, her easy smile with or without reason, and her love of sex. The latter had been difficult for a long time. Before the children arrived, she was an uncontrollab... continue reading

My sister dumped him three weeks ago after catching him texting other girls. He’s been blowing up her phone ever since, but tonight at 2 a.m. the doorbell rings.

I’m the only one home, in tiny sleep shorts and a tank, no bra. Peek through the peephole: it’s him.

I should ignore it. Instead I open the door a crack.

“I just need to talk to her,” he slurs, with a voice crack.

“She’s not here.”

He looks at me, really looks, eyes dropping to my hard nipples, then back up. “Fuck… you look just like her when she’s pissed.”

I should shut the door. Instead I step aside. “Come in.”

He stumbles to the couch, I pour him water. Sits too close, hand on my bare thigh “for balance.”

One touch and the air changes.

He kisses me sudden, desperate, tasting like cigarets and regret. I kiss back harder.

Clothes gone in seconds: my shorts ripped off, his jeans around his ankles. He pushes me onto the living room rug, spreads my legs wide, thick, rock hard, rubs the head through my lips once, finds... 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

It's been 3 weeks since I last saw Chris, my son's good friend. He had just finished fucking me when I told him that my husband knew what was going on. He’s been texting me relentlessly wanting the chance to fuck me again. I’ve been playing it coy, sometimes answering right back, and sometimes waiting a few days to reply.

Chris lives in town, but has been avoiding coming by the house because he is concerned about seeing my husband. This has been the subject of many of our texts. But still, he is being persistent about needing to fuck me again. I’ve been playing in to it, telling him everything with my husband SHOULD be fine and not to worry about it. My husband is a rather large man, so he is right to be a little concerned.

With the holiday coming, and my kids coming home, I knew I would be seeing him Saturday night, so I sent him a video of me playing with myself, just to get things stirred up a bit. It worked, as you can imagine. He has been texting me non-stop.

My son arrived hom... continue reading