The car pulled up to a building somewhere in the neighborhood. I sat at a distance from him in the backseat. He seemed to pretend I wasn't there. I cautiously peered out through the raindrops to see what this place was like. It was already past midnight, but I felt calm. The master had explained back in the café that the girl had to ask him for a session herself, explained the rules, and the girl, without a second thought, did so. And now she was here. The screeching of brakes, the sound of drips on the roof of the car, and the sound of the door opening. The man walked around the back of the car, opened the door, took off his coat, and covered me with it to keep me dry. I got out of the car without meeting his gaze, and we hurried inside. It was a reception area of sorts, but it was so dim, so intimate. The girl behind the counter smiled at the man, and she clearly recognized him. I shrugged off his coat and hung it over my arm; it was barely wet. And I stepped aside. I looked
I work at high end spa. I’m new kid on the block and the only man. It was a 90% female clientele and the men always requested females which was fine by me as the only two times I did a man they got hard and asked me to give them a happy ending. Ummm fuck no!! Today I had an older country club lady on my table, Bev. Bev always wanted the same. Back and shoulders focus on shoulders. Occasionally her glutes. Bev was nice lady and had the gift of gab. Always interesting. She golfed everyday day then came for a massage every other day. I knew her fairly well, 10 massages. I worked her back and shoulders. She had a towel over her lower area. I was pretty much done and she asked if I got do her legs. As I worked her calf muscles I could see she was inching the towel over her bum up. I could see about half her cheeks. I asked, glutes today too? She said perhaps and wiggled her legs open. Not that I cared but I could see her pussy clear as day. I was still massaging her calf muscles when
Life, like a river, flows along its course. At first, a turbulent, swift current sweeping away everything in its path, then a broad, full-flowing current, calm and predictable. But sometimes, beneath this apparent calm, deep and dangerous whirlpools arise. I'm thirty-seven. My name is Elena. My husband, Grisha, is forty-three, and I have been together for fifteen years. During this time, we've experienced everything: poverty, the first modest joys, arguments, reconciliations, and the joy of owning our first apartment. But our greatest asset, our shared project, into which we've poured our hearts, are our two children. But this story isn't about them. It's about Grisha and me. About that quiet, almost invisible crack that was slowly but surely spreading across the façade of our well-being. It all started around the time I turned thirty-five. I began to notice a strange, almost animalistic restlessness within me. It was as if a beast had awakened within, dormant al
It all started so banally that it's even funny now. I was coming home from college, pulling into the entrance hall, drenched in sweat from the stuffy street, and she was just coming out of her apartment—Aunt Natasha. Our neighbor, in her forties. I always saw her as well-groomed, smelling of perfume and baked goods, a true homemaker. She was always smiling at me, asking about my studies, and there was something warm and maternal in her eyes. The guardian angel of our building. But today her gaze was different. Narrowed, appraising. I muttered "hello" and reached for my door. “Andryusha, wait a minute,” her voice, usually so clear, was now low and velvety. I turned around. She was leaning against the doorframe, wearing a light housecoat that outlined... God, it outlined everything. All those soft, seductive curves that I sometimes thought about out of the corner of my mind as I drifted off to sleep. "You're so disinhibited, poor thing. Session?" She took a ste
The text I had sent him was filthy. I had written it out over the course of about an hour, adding things as I thought of them, making myself wet as I wrote out each dirty little fantasy. Imagining it had made me want to touch myself so badly, but I resisted; I had Jason for that now. I hesitated with my finger hovering over the send button, reading it through one last time. *Jay. You made me cum so hard last night. I was still throbbing when I woke up on your floor. You should’ve seen me. Legs open, dripping. I almost started touching myself right there. But then I remembered I don’t have to anymore. That’s your job, isn’t it? To lick my pussy until I forget how to speak. Anyway, I know you’re at work but I just wanted to let you know. When you get home I’m going to let you spread me open and fuck me any way you like. From behind, on my back, doggy, reverse cowgirl–whatever will make you cum the hardest. You deserve it! You can use my mouth or my ass or my pussy. Or all three. I don’
My husband and I have a good relationship, great sex, but... But for years now, I've dreamed of feeling like a slut, of being fucked like a total whore by a stranger. Or even several times... Alas, the prerequisites never materialized—first, the cushy love affair with my husband, then the birth of our daughter. And for a long time, I couldn't imagine a real situation where I could step outside the bounds of morality. However, I would start to cum around any even remotely attractive man, imagining how I'd take him in my mouth and then spread my legs for him. So my husband and I, leaving our daughter in the care of her grandmothers, went to a provincial town to settle some matters with the inheritance left after the death of a distant relative. We stayed in a hotel, considered the best, but with the kind of service and furnishings I imagined the Soviet era. However, this archaism was nothing compared to the ordeal of dealing with the inheritance. And so, on the second day,
So I (M25 at the time) was staying with my buddy from work (m22 Mark) and his wife (f21 Jess) while I was getting ready to move in 3 months. Mark was about to go out of town for work and was going to be gone for 6-9 months. Once we found that out I told him I would find another place to stay, he told me not to worry about it, he already told Jess and she was completely fine with me staying. That Sunday Mark heads out of town and I stay in my room mostly until of the day to avoid any awkward situations. Later that night I get a text from Jess saying “dinner is ready if you want some” I respond with “I’ll be down in just a minute” When I get downstairs my plate was made and there was a glass of wine poured. Waiting at the dinner table was Jess, she was drinking a glass of wine. We sat and ate and drank 3 bottles of wine while talking. Eventually she goes upstairs and I clean up the kitchen. my room is right across the hall from hers and as I pass by I glance inside not stopping my st
I stretched out my arms and legs as I slowly opened my eyes, realizing I was back in my old bedroom. Now that it was summer, I was staying with my family: my little sister and my mom. I’d missed them both and needed a serious break from college life. My little sister, Hailey, was nineteen years old and a gymnast. She used to compete when she was younger, but that stopped once her breasts started to develop, which made her self-conscious. Big boobs were usually an asset, but not if you were serious about sports. I reached for my phone on the nightstand and noticed a new message. Lazily, I rubbed my eyes and unlocked the phone. Then my eyes widened. I’d received a nude photo of someone incredibly attractive. I’d never seen such an athletic, toned body, yet the breasts, though round and full, still looked completely natural on her. She was standing in a bathroom with her legs crossed, so I couldn’t see her peach but plenty of thighs. I hardened in an instant, pitching a giant tent in th
I’m so obsessed with my wife but if there’s one other woman who has always caught me eye, it’s her sister. They’re like the best of both worlds. My wife has dirty blonde hair, stunning green eyes and incredible natural DDs. Her sister has dark features, more supple breasts but a really tight ass and nice full lips. She’s also much more “put together” than my wife is. My wife has more of that broken, party slut energy .. one look at her and you can tell she’s a dirty little whore who has had her share of cocks. Her sister is a bit more buttoned up. I’ve always wondered how she is beneath that facade. There’s definitely always been some very subtle flirtatious energy between us. We’ve always been open when it comes to talking about sexual shit. When we hug I pull her in nice and close so it’s less of a family hug, and more of me pressing my cock against her pussy with my hands on the small of her back. When I brush past her, I place my hands on her in suggestive ways. We lock eyes from
My girl and I had talked about trying a glory hole for months. It was one of those fantasies we kept teasing each other with, half joke, half challenge. One day, we were in an adult store with her two girlfriends, shopping for a gag gift. We were all laughing, checking out toys and outfits, when one of the girls stopped in front of a long, thick dildo with a slight S-curve. My girl smirked, pointed at it, and said loud enough for everyone to hear: “Hey babe, look… they’ve got yours on display.” The girls burst out laughing, but I saw their eyes linger. One of them raised an eyebrow and said, “Seriously?” My girl just smiled teasingly. That’s when we saw the glory hole booth in the back. My girl turned to me and said, “Go in. Let’s give them a peek.” I was already hard from the teasing, and the idea of being on display for her friends? Game on. I stepped into the booth, pushed through, and immediately felt a warm, eager mouth wrap around me. It was slow, wet, and confident. I knew th
In the middle of the night, I walked home with my hands in my pockets. I had just faced another rejection, another night where I’d gotten cock-blocked. I sighed, wondering if this curse would ever lift. It was the second time it had happened, and it hurt, especially since I’d been so close to tasting my girlfriend’s sweetness. I couldn’t understand why some guys thought having a big dick was something to be proud of. I’d learned it was quite the opposite after my first girlfriend, Alice, flat-out rejected me. “I can’t even curl my fingers around it,” she’d said in disbelief. I was eighteen and had just graduated from high school. I was really into coding, and if it hadn’t been for my mom, I probably wouldn’t have left my bedroom at all. She was always nagging me to go outside and find a girl. She was proud of my good grades, but she kept telling me that having fun was important too. I walked up to my home. Since it was currently night, I tried to be as discreet as possible. I lived
I’d just gotten back from a BBQ, still in this flimsy floral sundress I love. It’s light, breezy, and just barely covers anything. My FWB was already at my place, scrolling through his phone on my couch when I walked in. He looked up, and his eyes, usually so chill, just ignited. He took me in, from my bare shoulders to where the fabric floated just above my knees. A slow smile spread across his face. "Well, hello there," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "That dress... it was made for trouble." I felt a blush creep up my neck. "Is that so?" I tried to sound playful, but my heart was already starting to thump. He stood up, closing the distance between us, and laid his hands on my hips, pulling me close. I could feel the heat radiating off him. "Yeah. It's screaming for me to just lift it up and get a taste," he whispered, his lips brushing my ear. The directness made my breath hitch. I mean, we've done it plenty of times, but there was something about the casualness of that desir
I had been waiting for this, probably, all our family life. Six years of marriage, and Olya never agreed to take me in her mouth all the way. She always stopped at the very last moment, and I came on her chest or stomach. But that evening everything was different. We had just come from her friend's birthday party, we had had a few drinks, but not much, just a relaxed, warm mood. We made love slowly, almost lazily, and I already thought that everything was as usual. But when I turned her over on her back and knelt over her, guiding my penis to her vagina, she suddenly stopped my hand. “Wait,” she said quietly and looked at me with her big eyes, in which I could read some kind of determination mixed with embarrassment. Without saying a word, she moved over, laid me on my back, and positioned herself between my legs. My heart began to pound like a kid's. I just looked at her, at her lips, which she licked before hesitantly taking my cock in her hand. She started as usual - gent
His fingertip glistened in the light from the TV. He stared at it, rubbing my wetness between his fingers for a moment, my pussy clenching with horniness and nervousness and embarrassment. I had been *so close* to cumming just before he walked in… “Wait…is this…?” His cheeks went bright red as he realised what the slick liquid between his fingers was. “Oh fuck…oh my god…I’m sorry…I shouldn’t have…I wasn’t looking, I just–” “It’s okay,” I said, my own embarrassment rising. “It’s my fault! I shouldn’t have been…you know…” “No!” he said quickly.. “It's your apartment too! You can do…*that*…anywhere you like!” “Really?” I asked. The TV menu idled, soft music looping. The controller was somewhere on the floor behind the coffee table, and the damp patch of my cum was still gleaming in the glow. I felt another rush of embarrassment and excitement as slutty thoughts entered my mind. “Because actualy…you…sort of…interrupted me…” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Oh.” “Yeah,” I said, heat crawling
One time when I was out with my friends, most of them were girls. After a night in the club, we were a little tipsy and decided to head back home. One of my friends hadn’t drunk that night and offered us a ride. We all agreed, but when we took our seats, it turned out we were one short. So one of my friends asked if she could sit on my lap. Of course, I agreed. At first, everything was normal—we were talking and laughing. But as we drove, I felt her start to gently grind against me. At first, I thought she was just adjusting how she sat. After a moment, I started to get hard, and then I saw that look in her eyes. She knew. As the ride continued, she slowly rubbed against my hard cock. To make things worse, she was wearing a mini skirt that day, so I could feel her wet panties. Every once in a while, she discreetly grazed it with her finger. After about twenty minutes, I couldn’t take it anymore. I tried to resist, but I couldn’t. I came so hard. She definitely saw and felt it, but fort
I'm Paul, 34 (*at the time), single with no kids, spending a week at a Mexican five-star resort with my parents, my older brother Kyle, his wife Beth, and their two kids. It's been great being with them, away from the usual family tensions found when everyone piles into my parent's house. The resort is beautiful and luxurious, with several pools, restaurants, and right on the beach. After a couple of days, I was in a good routine. Initially, I had naively thought there might be groups of singles traveling here, but it was pretty much families. A few attractive college-age girls occasionally graced the pool, but this wasn't the place to meet anyone. My family would be leaving early Saturday to get back for a soccer tournament, and I had booked my stay to Sunday since I was already here. I was alone in the main hot tub mid-morning on day five when an attractive woman I hadn't noticed before got in. She was about my age, with dark hair in a ponytail and a pretty face obscured by big sun
*If my wife ever reads this, she’ll kill me.* When we lived in London, when my wife was still my girlfriend, her younger sister would come over to the UK from Poland to stay with us every summer, during her months-long break from university. She’d come to practise her English and to earn decent money by working temporary jobs we’d help her get. It would be cramped, three of us living in a one-bedroom place, but we made it work. And she was fun to be around, my wife’s younger sister, she was relaxed and funny, plus she cooked for us. And, of course, she was gorgeous. I’ll call her Lena. Lena’s seven years younger than my wife (she was older than 18 when this happened, don’t worry). They look broadly similar, tall, slender, blonde, beautiful. When she stayed with us, I had to keep reminding myself that Lena was essentially my younger sister, especially when I found my eye straying to her, when I found myself checking her out. Lena sure didn’t make it easy though. She often wore tight
Accidentally opening the door at the wrong time, for her, I saw a beautiful maid. Coal-black hair, brown eyes, and thick black eyebrows. She wasn't wearing sexy clothes or high heels. But something about her caught my eye, and I immediately became attached to this woman, asking her how she found working here. Not knowing what to answer, she introduced herself as Linda, and immediately offered her hand. Apparently, she was new, since she didn't know who I was. We got acquainted. I forbade all my subordinates to offer me their hand, and when someone did, I recognized the newcomer, repeating over and over that this was not allowed. But I didn't tell her this. I liked the soft skin of her small hand so much that, without letting go, I began to tell her how nice it was here, and that everyone without exception gave tips, so the salary increase for the month would be significant. The woman became embarrassed, looked away. She was almost silent, and I told her and told her. How
Eh, if I had known that it would all end like this, I would never have agreed to Andrey's offer to go to his house, try the new whiskey and cola, and cook him dinner. His wife had long since gone on vacation, and for more than two weeks now the man had been alone at home, sitting on the Internet until midnight. - Hi, Ksyusha, what are you doing there, aren’t you bored? - Hi, Andryusha, everything is fine. I just started cleaning, and then there will be laundry. And how are you? How are you relaxing, or have you started bringing girls to entertain you? Admit it. - Don't tease me. It's true, I feel sick, but I'm holding on. Maybe you could come over? I've been sitting without anything hot for over a week now. I don't know how to make soup, and my friends don't want to come over, I have things to do. - No problem, I'll finish right now and come. Open the wine. - I have whiskey, with cola, it's better. Come on, I'm waiting for you! After a quick s
This story happened to me many years ago. It was the year two thousand. My mother and I worked in the same organization. She had one friend there. At that time, she was closer to fifty, but despite the numbers, she was very slender, about seventy-five meters tall, weighing, I think, up to fifty-five kg, and had size four breasts. In short, as they say, she was in good condition and this person’s name was Irina. At that time, her husband, with whom she had lived for quite a long time, abandoned her and she was in a trance. But time took its toll and she slowly came to her senses. Sometimes my mother and I started talking about Irina, naturally not on my initiative, and I learned small but interesting details about her life. She was born in another city, got married in order to move to Moscow and get a residence permit. And as it turned out, Madame was always rather weak in the front. And she had a daughter, Olga, a couple of years younger than me. I didn’t know her, but only saw he