We swapped wives for the first time

I want to tell another story about how the most ordinary people unexpectedly discover new dimensions of pleasure. My wife, Irina, and I are 34 and 29. I work in IT, and she's a speech therapist. We're a perfectly ordinary couple: I'm a little overweight but try to stay in shape, and Irina has short brown hair, small B-cup breasts, and a sporty butt. She's shy, but over the years, she's become more trusting of me in bed. Our friends were Pasha and Lena. Pasha was 38, a long-haul truck driver, a big man with a beer belly. Lena was his wife, 31, a brunette with C-cup breasts and wide hips. They were simpler than us, but it was precisely this simplicity that attracted us. Pasha was never shy about his words, and Lena would easily slap me on the butt or sit on Irina's lap and start whispering in her ear. We rented a friend's dacha—an old wooden house with a sauna, a swimming pool, and a huge terrace covered in wild grapes. We arrived on Friday evening and immediately started hanging out. Pasha brought several bottles of wine and two cases of beer, Lena made salads, and Irina baked pies. The first evening went as usual: we drank, laughed, and told stories. Pasha told stories about his trips, Lena told stories about how she almost got into a fight with the saleswoman at Pyaterochka, and Irina and I shared news about the renovations. By nightfall, everyone was pretty drunk. Lena suggested going to the bathhouse—"to clear our heads after the hustle and bustle of the city." Irina was reluctant at first, but I whispered in her ear, "Let's go, it'll be fun." She looked at me with that smile that meant she agreed but was afraid to admit it. We had a real wood-fired banya. Pasha fired it up, and we all stripped down to our towels. Irina and Lena went into the steam room, and Pasha and I stayed in the dressing room, drinking beer and talking. Pasha was sitting on a bench, the towel barely hanging around his hips, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed he was serious. I don't know why I suddenly thought of that. I'd never really looked at men before. "Listen, Igor," Pasha said, taking a sip from his bottle. "How are you doing? Well, in terms of... experiments?" “In what sense?” I didn’t understand. — Yes, literally. Lenka says that your Irka is like a cat in bed, she just needs to be warmed up. Have you considered somehow… diversifying things? I tensed up. But Pasha spoke without attack, simply, in a friendly manner. "I thought about it," I answered honestly. "But Irina is shy." "Don't think she's shy. She's just waiting for you to lead her. Lenka and I realized a long time ago: sex isn't just between two people. It's between anyone who wants it." He finished his beer, put the bottle down, and without further ado, removed the towel. His penis was semi-erect—thick, with a large head that was already glistening. I stared, unable to look away. "What are you looking at?" he chuckled. "You've never seen it before? Come on, Igor." I didn't move. My heart was pounding. On the one hand, it was terrifying—but on the other, I felt it wasn't disgust, but curiosity. At that moment, the steam room door opened, and our wives emerged. Irina was flushed and steamed, the towel barely covering her breasts. Lena followed her, her towel slipping down to her hips, revealing her unshaven pubic area. They were both giggling, but when they saw us, they froze. Pasha stood there with his cock sticking out, and I was naked, with an erection I couldn't hide. "Wow," Lena drawled. "I see you haven't been bored here." Irina looked at me. There was fear in her eyes, but not the kind of disgust, but the kind of anticipation. I took a step toward her. “Ir,” I said quietly. “How are you?” She was silent for a second, then licked her lips and exhaled barely audibly: — I... I don't know. But I don't want to stop. Lena walked up to Pasha, pressed herself against him, took his penis in her hand and began to slowly move it. "Well, great," she said. "Then let's not pretend to be virgins." She turned to me, looked me straight in the eyes, and dropped to her knees. Her mouth covered the head of my cock, her tongue sliding along the shaft. I groaned. Irina watched, and I saw her hand slide under the towel, between her legs. Pasha approached Irina from behind, put his arm around her waist, and pulled the towel off. She didn't resist. He began kissing her neck, shoulders, and down to her chest. Irina threw her head back and closed her eyes. "Let's go inside," Pasha suggested, not taking his eyes off Irina. "It's softer there." We moved into the large room, which had a huge sofa and an old carpet. Pasha laid Irina down on the sofa, spread her legs, and began to lick her. She moaned louder and louder, clutching his hair. Lena, meanwhile, laid me down on the carpet, sat on top of me, and began to rub her wet pussy against my cock, but she kept it out, teasing me. “Do you want it?” she asked, smiling. “I want to,” I exhaled. She slowly lowered herself, and I entered her. She was hot and wet, her hips moving rhythmically, her breasts swaying in front of my face. I reached for her and began sucking her nipples. Lena moaned and sped up. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pasha flip Irina over onto her stomach, put her on all fours, and enter her from behind. Irina cried out with pleasure. She began to push back, meeting his thrusts. Her ass was shaking, and her pussy was leaking so much, it was dripping onto the sofa. "Igor," Pasha croaked, not stopping. "Look what your wife can do. You underestimated her." I looked at Irina, and it turned me on even more. Lena got off me, turned on all fours, and presented her butt. "Let's do it in the ass," she said simply. "I love anal." I entered her from behind, feeling her anus squeeze my cock. Lena growled with pleasure and began moving toward me. We fucked in the same rhythm as Pasha and Irina, and the room filled with the sounds of slaps, moans, and the smell of sex. A few minutes later, Pasha came—he pulled out and spilled his cum all over my wife's back. She lay there, breathing heavily, her legs spread, her pussy pulsating. I couldn't take it anymore, pulled out of Lena, walked over to my wife, and entered her—wet, hot, stretched. She wrapped her legs around me and whispered: - More... don't stop... Lena came over to us, lay down next to Irina, and began kissing her breasts, moving down to her stomach. Pasha, meanwhile, stood behind Lena and entered her. Now we were fucking four-handed, our bodies intertwined, swapping partners. Irina wasn't shy anymore—she took Pasha's cock into her mouth when he offered it, while I fucked Lena in the pussy, then in the ass. The climax came when Irina came loudly, her whole body shaking. I came next, spilling inside her, and Pasha spilled the rest of his seed onto Lenina's breasts. We all fell onto the carpet, covered in sweat and semen, and lay there in silence for a long time. "Well," Lena broke the silence. "Now that's what I call a luxurious vacation." Irina turned to me, smiled, and kissed me on the lips. There was no longer any fear in her eyes. “I want more,” she said quietly. “But let’s go to the pool first.” We all laughed and walked outside, naked, happy, ready to continue the orgy. I'll tell you what happened next, if you like this story.