My name is Max. I'm 26 and I work in logistics, working shifts that vary, sometimes including night shifts. I have a girlfriend, Lera. She's 23. She's about 165 cm tall, has a normal figure, not too skinny or too curvy. She has B-cup breasts, but large nipples, which I've always liked. She's in her final year of college and works part-time at a cafe on weekends. We're currently living with her parents, who are strict, so she usually spends the night at mine when she can. We've been dating for almost two years. Sexually, everything's fine; she likes it long and deep, but she rarely gives oral sex and always with reservations. She never gives anal sex, saying it hurts and isn't necessary. Today was supposed to be a normal day off, but this morning Lera texted that Katya, her friend from her class, had a birthday. They rented a dacha outside the city, a small group of about fifteen people. Katya invited Lera, and she immediately lit up. At first, I brushed it off, saying I didn't want to drag myself somewhere overnight, and I had to get up early the next day anyway. But she convinced me. "Max, please, I'm not asking you to stay until morning. You can take me there, then you can leave and pick me up in the morning. Everyone's friends there, nothing special." "Lera, do you know these 'friends'? Half the guys I've never even met. And Katya's a real party girl." — Don't start. I'll have one or two drinks and that's it. I just want to hang out with the girls. You don't mind me hanging out with my friends, do you? I was silent for a couple of seconds. I don't like it when she goes somewhere without me, especially if there's alcohol and men involved. But there was no point in arguing further—she was already in the mood. — Okay. I'll take you. But I'm picking you up at eleven. Not one in the morning, eleven. — Agreed. Just don't be such a bore when we get there. At three o'clock in the afternoon, I picked her up from her house. Lera was already wearing a short skirt and top, with a jacket over it, but she still looked like she was going to a nightclub rather than a birthday party. In the car, she chattered nonstop about who was coming, what gifts they were getting, and how Katya had promised barbecue and music. I remained mostly silent, only asking again: — Are you sure you want me to leave you and go away? "Max, come on, I told you. I'll stay until eleven, call, and you'll come. Everything will be fine." I nodded and turned on the music. It was about an hour's drive to the dacha. On the way, she occasionally put her hand on my knee and smiled, and I thought maybe I was overreacting. It was just a friend's birthday, nothing special. We arrived at half past four. The dacha turned out to be a typical one—a wooden house, a sauna off to the side, a large table under an awning, and a barbecue already smoking. There were about twelve or fifteen people there, mostly girls from Lera's class and a few guys I didn't know. Katya immediately ran out to greet us, hugged Lera, and nodded at me, as if to say, "Hi, come in." I parked the car and got out. Someone was already drinking beer, someone was cutting meat. Music was playing softly from the speaker. Lera immediately went over to the girls and started helping set the table. I stood off to the side and smoked. One of the guys, a tall one in a hoodie, came up, introduced himself as Artyom, and offered me a beer. I declined, saying I was driving. "Well, at least stay for the shashlik," he said. "Katya said there's plenty of meat." - Thanks, but I won't be long. I dropped you off and then I'll be on my way. Lera heard and turned around. "Max, will you at least sit here for an hour? It's kind of weird, he brought me here and then left right away." — I told you — until eleven. Then I'll come. - Okay, okay. Just don't be offended. I stayed anyway. I sat at the table and got some juice. Lera was sitting across from me, chatting with her friends and laughing. She drank a glass of wine, then another. By seven o'clock it had gotten darker, the fairy lights were turned on, and someone brought out a guitar. I looked at her and saw that she had already relaxed—her cheeks were pink, her voice had gotten louder. One of the guys, Artyom, sat down next to her and started telling her something. She nodded and smiled. I stood up and walked towards her. — Lera, I think I’ll go. Are you okay? — It's fine, Max. Don't worry. I'll call when I need to. - You've already opened the second bottle. Don't overdo it. "I'm not alone. Katya's here. Everything will be fine, I promise." She kissed me on the cheek and waved. I stood there for another minute, then got into the car. As I drove away, I saw in the mirror that she sat down at the table again and picked up a glass. Artyom said something, and everyone laughed. It was a little over an hour to the house. I drove there, wondering if maybe I should have left her there. But she herself had asked me not to disturb her. I decided I'd arrive not at eleven, but a little earlier—around ten. I'd just check on her and then pick her up. I ran some errands, then drove home, ate, and lay down for a bit. By nine, I was too restless to sit down. I grabbed the keys and headed back. On the way, I texted Lera—she replied briefly, "Everything's fine, we're sitting here." She didn't say anything else. I arrived at ten. The gates were open, the same cars were parked. The music was playing louder than when I left. I turned off the headlights and parked a little further away so as not to shine. I got out and walked closer. There was almost no one at the table anymore. A few girls were sitting on the steps, smoking. I didn't see any guys. Lera was gone, too. Katya came out of the house with a bottle and noticed me. - Oh, Max. You're early. Lera's inside, I think. — Where exactly? — Who the hell knows, somewhere in the house. We're almost done. Some of them left. I walked past her. The house was warm and smelled of food and alcohol. Someone was washing dishes in the kitchen. The light was on in the large room, but it was empty—only dirty glasses on the table and someone's jacket on the sofa. I went up to the second floor. There were two bedrooms and a small room. Voices and laughter came from one door. I stopped and listened. - Come on, Ler, don't be so stubborn. We were just... A male voice, unfamiliar. Then laughter. I pushed the door. Lera sat on the edge of the bed, wearing only a tank top and panties. Her skirt lay on the floor. Artyom was kneeling next to her, having already pulled off his sweatshirt. Two other guys were in the room—one sitting on the windowsill, the other standing against the wall. Everyone was looking at her. She raised her head and saw me. Her eyes were cloudy. - Max... why are you here so early? Artyom turned around, but did not stand up. - Who the fuck are you? I stood in the doorway, unsure what to say. Lera reached for her skirt, but Artyom put his hand on her thigh. "No need, let him watch if he came. We didn't do anything special. We were just hanging out." Lera looked at me, then at him, and said nothing. She just looked away. I stood and watched. Lera didn't get up. Artyom still had his hand on her thigh, his fingers just above the hem of her panties. One of the guys, the one on the windowsill, lit a cigarette and exhaled out the window. "Max, why are you standing up?" Lera finally said. Her voice was quiet. "I just... we were talking. I had too much to drink." “We were talking,” I repeated. “In panties.” Artyom chuckled. "Listen, man, she came on her own. We didn't force anyone. If you want to take her, take her. Just don't make a scene here." Lera looked at me, then back at him. I saw her throat twitch. She shifted her legs slightly, but didn't remove his hand. I stepped inside and closed the door. I didn't understand why. The room grew quieter, only the music drifted faintly from below. - Lera, get up. We're leaving. She nodded, but not right away. Artyom only removed his hand when I came closer. She reached for her skirt, pulled it on, and adjusted her top. Her panties remained on. One of the guys standing by the wall handed her a glass with the remains of something. “One last thing,” he said. Lera took it, drank it in one gulp, and put the glass on the nightstand. Then she looked at me. - Let's go. We went out. There was almost no one downstairs anymore. Katya was sitting on the porch, smoking. "Well, is that it?" she asked. I didn't answer. Lera got into the car and buckled up. I started the engine and drove off. The road was empty. She was silent for the first ten minutes, then said: "Max, nothing happened. Really. I just overdid it, they started pestering me, and I didn't know how to stop. You arrived just in time." I looked at the road and said nothing. My hands were wet on the steering wheel. The light from the dacha flickered in the rearview mirror, then disappeared. Lera turned to the window and closed her eyes. After a couple of minutes, her breathing became even, her head lolled slightly to the side. She fell asleep. I drove for another ten minutes, then pulled onto the empty shoulder of the road and turned off the engine. The car was silent, save for her soft breathing. I turned to face her. Her skirt had ridden up above her knees. On the light-colored fabric, right near the hem, were dark, damp spots. A few drops had already dried, but one still glistened. I reached up and carefully lifted the hem of her skirt higher. Her panties were still in place, but the side where the fabric met her thigh was also wet. I hooked the elastic with two fingers and pulled the panties aside. The skin beneath them was hot. Her thighs glistened. I ran my finger along the slit, collected the moisture, and brought it closer. It wasn't just her that smelled. I slipped my middle finger inside. She was slippery, her walls gripped me immediately. My finger brushed against something thick and warm. I pulled it out—a white thread remained on my finger, trailing behind it. I pushed it in again, deeper, and again. Each time, more remained on my finger. She didn't even move, only slightly parting her legs in her sleep. I sat and watched as whatever they'd left in her dripped down my fingers. I brought my hand closer and inhaled. The scent was thick, foreign, slightly sour. I ran my tongue over my finger. Salty, warm, slightly sticky. Lera was still asleep, her head on her side, her legs slightly apart. I moved the seat back as far as I could and leaned over the handbrake. It was awkward—the steering wheel was in the way, and her knee was pressing against the armrest. I pushed her panties even further to the side and pressed my mouth to her slit. At first, I simply ran my tongue up and down, collecting what was leaking. Then I pushed my tongue inside as far as I could reach. She was wet and slippery, her walls clenching slightly as I licked deeper. I sucked, swallowed, licked again. I held her thigh with one hand, unzipped his fly with the other and pulled out my cock. It was already hard. I began to jerk her off, never breaking away, my tongue going inside and licking everything that was there. Lera sighed softly in her sleep, but didn't wake up. I sped up. A minute later I came—cum sprayed all over my hand and her skirt. I ran my tongue over her a few more times, cleaning up the residue, then pulled away. I was breathing heavily. I took a pack of wipes from the glove compartment, wiped between her legs, wiped her skirt, and dried myself. I adjusted her panties and lowered her skirt. I started the car and pulled out onto the road. I drove home in silence, and she was still asleep.