The forest air was already cooling, smelling of pine needles, damp earth, and the smoke from the fire I'd long ago extinguished. I crawled into my sleeping bag, buried my nose in the cool nylon of the tent, and tried to read on my phone. Silence. Only the wind in the pine treetops and some distant, unfamiliar sounds. I felt like such a brave traveler, so independent. Alone in the forest. Independent, no fucking way. The first thing that alerted me was the creak of a branch. Not a natural sound, but a loud, cracking one. I froze and listened. My heart suddenly responded with a dull thump in my temples. "An elk," I immediately reassured myself, "or a boar. They don't attack first." Then I heard voices. Men's. Rough, slightly hoarse, interrupting each other. They were getting closer. And through the thin tent awning, I saw three dark figures, illuminated by the moon. They were walking straight toward me. "Oh God, no. No-no-no..." I pressed myself aga... continue reading
Do you remember that corporate party I was planning for so long? The black dress, those heels I could barely walk in? You know, the one you couldn't go to because you had the flu. So... Sit down. I need to tell you something. It all started with wine. Lots of wine. That idiotic chanting contest, Sergei Mikhailovich, my boss, that mustachioed goat that everyone complains about, he was sitting next to me. He kept pouring me more. He said that I was the most beautiful today, that he hadn't even noticed such an assistant in his office. And he kept staring at my cleavage. I saw where he was looking, damn it. Then the music started loud, dancing. He pressed himself against me in the crowd, I felt his palm on my lower back. So hot, so heavy. I tried to move away, but he didn’t take his hand away. He whispered: “Let’s get out of here, it’s too noisy here. Let’s go to my office, I have some good cognac there.” And I... I knew that I shouldn’t. But the wine in my head was like a fog,... continue reading
And again a night on the train. I can't stand it. It's stuffy, the wheels are rattling, the guy behind the wall is snoring like a tractor. I'm alone in my compartment, at least that's a plus. I'm sitting there, staring at my phone, I've already read all the news a hundred times. It's deadly boring. The compartment door opens. It's the conductor, Irina, by name, you can see it on the sign. She was checking my tickets when I was getting on, I liked her. Well, such a... mature woman. About forty, probably. But her figure is just the bomb, honestly. Such boobs that they just burst in her uniform, and the skirt fits tightly in all the right places. And a beautiful face, a little tired, but with some charm. “Would you like some tea?” he asks. Her voice is low, husky, very sexy. And I've already given up on the third can of energy drink so as not to fall asleep. “Come on,” I say. “Just make it stronger.” She pours from her thermos. She bends over, and I... continue reading
Aunt Olya is my mom's friend. A cool chick, about forty, but beautiful and well-groomed. Divorced a long time ago. A MILF, in a word. Mom always said: "Olya is so independent, a businesswoman." And I just saw a cool figure, big breasts and a smile that gave me an involuntary erection. It was just that my mom went to grandma's for the weekend, and Aunt Olya's home internet wasn't working. I'm still a student myself, studying to be a programmer, and I can 100% fix a router. She called my mom, who hired me: "Go to Olya's, help her, she's going crazy without internet." I came to her. She opened the door in her housecoat. Not exactly transparent, but worn on her naked body, I realized that right away. The tie was barely holding, and when she turned to adjust the slipper, I saw her entire back and the outline of her ass. So hard, so round. The blood rushed to my head. - Oh, Sasha, thank you for coming! - she says, smiling as if we weren't go... continue reading
I decided to leave work early. My boss, of course, grumbled, but I told him that my pipe had burst and I needed to go urgently. But in reality, I just wanted to go to the dacha. Marina left last week, saying that I needed to pick raspberries and currants. Well, I was glad to have a little rest alone. I bought some cold beer and shashlik on the way. I drive up to my plot, and at the gate is Lyokha's car, my neighbor. Well, I think, cool, I'll pop in to see him, maybe we'll have a beer. Our gate doesn't creak, I treated it with oil a week ago. I enter quietly, and from the open window of our house there are strange sounds. Not exactly screams, more like groans. Marina's voice was always quiet, but here... somehow loud. And Lyokhin's laughter. So rude, so smug. I froze. My heart immediately sank into my heels, and then hit my head. I sneak up to the window, through a crack between the curtains. And... I was stunned. They're right on our couch, the one I drag... continue reading
The rain pounded the tin roof of the bathhouse, creating a cozy, detached noise. I sat on the oak shelf, all steamed up, listening to the coals crackling in the stove, and enjoying the peace. My father had gone to town on some urgent business, promising to return only tomorrow evening. We were left at the dacha alone with Irina. My stepmother. She was young. Too young to be a father. She was barely forty, and looked thirty. Slender, fit, with a look that made my twenty-year-old self get a hard-on. I always tried not to show it, looked away when she walked past in her tight shorts or bathing suit. It was torture. The door to the steam room creaked. I turned around and was stunned. Irina was standing on the threshold. Wrapped in a small white towel that covered the most important things, but hugged her curves so tightly that it took my breath away. Her damp chestnut hair was gathered into a messy bun, her cheeks were flushed, and drops of water were running down her collarbones. “Is t... continue reading
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... continue reading
I got a relatively exotic name Elina. A seemingly respectable wife, 35 years old. A couple of years ago, I got tired of the measured life of my loving husband Vitya and took my appearance seriously. Diligent training, jogging for tens of kilometers did their job. Now I am a real milf. A nice slim figure, big breasts and a lush ass. Basically, there is everything to please the eye of the spouse and have sex regularly. But no matter how hard I tried, no makeup, no sexy lingerie - my intimate life did not return to its previous course. About 7 years ago, we fucked like rabbits, and now once a month, this is already happiness. At this time, I realized that monogamy is a primeval evil! In my opinion, it is she who killed all the pleasure that can only be obtained from sex. It didn't take long before I turned into a real bitch. The office staff hated me, my husband was constantly offended and didn't talk. People call it "undersexing." And everything would have continued li... continue reading
Well, I'll tell you how I fucked my mother-in-law in the bathhouse. Yes, you heard right. The same one, Natalya Petrovna, who usually looked at me like I was shit on a shoe. And this is how it happened. My wife and I went to her dacha in the village, she had just left on an urgent business trip, and I had a lot of work to do on the property. My mother-in-law, of course, lived there all summer. In the evening after work we were sitting, finishing up the shashlik. And of course we drank. Not to the point of being completely drunk, but good enough, relaxed. My mother-in-law poured me some drinks, and she looked at me in such a way... Not in a motherly way. And she was a woman, mature, of course, over fifty, but her figure... Such wide hips, a butt the size of half a trough, boobs - you could carry her in your arms. That day she was wearing a tight T-shirt, so I kept glancing at those curves out of the corner of my eye. And then she says: “Oh, the bathhouse is all heated up. Is it f... continue reading
The door to Maria Ivanovna's office slammed shut with a sound as if it were not a massive oak door, but the lid of a coffin. My coffin. The air in the room was cool, smelling of expensive perfume and power. Her power. I stood there, looking down at the plush carpet, feeling like a complete idiot. The report had been so blatantly flawed, and now I had to listen to what my boss thought about it. And she thought, as usual, without embellishment. Maria Ivanovna walked silently around her desk. Her sky-high Christian Louboutin heels clicked out a slow, commanding beat. Each click sent a volley of alarm through my body. She stopped right in front of me, and I smelled a wave of her aroma – bitter chocolate, black pepper, and something elusive and dangerous. "Explain this hack job to me," her voice was low, calm, and therefore even more chilling. "I spend my time, my nerves, on you. And what do I get in return?" She took another step. The tip of her shoe almost touched m... continue reading
Like all anonymous storytellers, I will introduce myself to you by a false name, because my safety depends on it, which you will understand after reading my own story of sex-cheating with a loving but very jealous husband. My name is Svetlana, I am 32 years old and for this age I have a simply magnificent body, especially my butt and firm second-size breasts, which have been crazy about since university. To be honest, I married Sergey (my husband) for convenience, because before I got a high-paying job in the HR company, I really needed money and a loved one. We never had anything special with Sergey, and even our sex was quite banal due to his widespread religiosity - he did not want me in the ass, and I just pine for the anus. Because in addition to sexual hypocrisy, my husband is also not averse to getting physical in a fit of jealous anger, because in his understanding I flirt with each of his friends and the last time I kicked him out of the house, for a while. Of course, we co... continue reading
You know, there are all sorts of confessions about sex, but sometimes it seems that everyone draws their inspiration from already filmed stories, famous studios. I myself thought so for a long time. But as it turned out one fine day, everything is much simpler. It is directors and cameramen who take situations that have already happened and try to adapt them for the viewer. My name is Lena, and this story happened to me quite a long time ago, or more precisely in the mid-00s. At that time, I was about 24 years old. Let's not dwell on the numbers, because this is a secondary matter. But perhaps it would be logical to describe my appearance a little. A tall girl with light-brown hair, but not a very outstanding figure. My chest barely reaches the 2nd size and my hips are far from wide. In one word, I can be described as "skinny". At that time I was living with a guy and we had problems with work. Constant delays in salary along with its reduction. No matter how hard my roo... continue reading
One of the most enjoyable moments is always the brief moment before the first kiss. That moment when everything can go wrong. An inept guy, bad breath, rough lips. But if everything goes perfectly, the first kiss is unlikely to be forgotten. That time everything was exactly like that, but the first night was something out of the ordinary, namely turning into a slave, but it is better to start from the very beginning. My name is Vika. I am a simple girl from the suburbs and fortunately I managed to enter a capital university. My appearance is quite decent, not without flaws. But they can be attributed to the lack of physical exercise. There is nothing extremely unsuccessful. An ordinary, tall student 175 cm, with small breasts of the 2nd size, a slightly convex bottom and a slender, but not trained body. Not a blonde and not a brunette. This is something in between the two extremes. So now I am in my third year and recently I was lucky to meet a graduate of this university, whose nam... continue reading
I always thought that being a secretary for a boss like Mr. Harris would be a chore—coffee, reports, calls. But damn, he was a real character: tall, with those broad shoulders that stretched his shirt, and eyes that sometimes slid over me like I was something tasty rather than just an employee. I was 28, he was in his late 30s, divorced, and there was talk around the office that he was no saint. And me? I was just trying to keep it together, but inside I sometimes fantasized about him pinning me to the desk. Silly, right? But that business trip changed everything. We flew to Chicago for a conference – he was speaking, I was assisting. The hotel was fancy, one room for two, but with separate rooms, like a suite. "We're saving the company's budget," he said with a grin when we checked in. It was a free evening, the conference started the next day. "Anna, let's go have dinner? We can't just sit in the room," he suggested, and I nodded, feeling something... continue reading
I sat in a chair in the corner of our living room, watching the candlelight cast shadows on the walls. The light was subdued, almost intimate, but there was something heavy in the air. My wife, Lera, stood at the bar, idly stirring a cocktail in a tall glass. She was 32, but she looked flawless: long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, a tight black dress that emphasized every curve of her body - a thin waist, rounded hips, breasts that seemed about to burst from the cleavage. She knew how to present herself. She knew I was watching. And she knew how it affected me. I, Artem, 35, am an ordinary middle manager, with a receding hairline and a habit of slouching when I'm nervous. It's not that I'm ugly, but next to Lera I always felt... smaller. She was like fire, and I was like a smoldering ember about to go out. We'd been married for seven years, and somewhere along the way our marriage had turned into a strange dance of love, habit, and... this. This. This. Lera gl... continue reading
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... continue reading
I always thought that being a secretary for a boss like Mr. Harris would be a chore—coffee, reports, calls. But damn, he was a real character: tall, with those broad shoulders that stretched his shirt, and eyes that sometimes slid over me like I was something tasty rather than just an employee. I was 28, he was in his late 30s, divorced, and there was talk around the office that he was no saint. And me? I was just trying to keep it together, but inside I sometimes fantasized about him pinning me to the desk. Silly, right? But that business trip changed everything. We flew to Chicago for a conference – he was speaking, I was assisting. The hotel was fancy, one room for two, but with separate rooms, like a suite. "We're saving the company's budget," he said with a grin when we checked in. It was a free evening, the conference started the next day. "Anna, let's go have dinner? We can't just sit in the room," he suggested, and I nodded, feeling something... continue reading
First of all, I would like to introduce myself and tell you a few words about myself. My name is Ira, I am a rather diligent and cheerful girl of 18 years old. Quite an average student of one of the industrial technical schools in the vastness of our great and vast Motherland. Short brunette, quite slender, but not a fitness babe, with neat size 2 breasts. And so fate has it that about ten years ago I had a half-brother Andrey, a couple of years older than me. We never had particularly warm feelings for each other, but we tried not to spoil life unnecessarily. And to my great happiness, my parents sent us to different educational institutions, and besides, my brother was already finishing his studies and was going to leave for the capital to continue his studies in the correspondence department at the university. I was comparatively glad that I would have to see him even less in my hometown. But as it soon became clear, I was wrong not to be interested in my brother and tried to ign... continue reading
One of the most enjoyable moments is always the brief moment before the first kiss. That moment when everything can go wrong. An inept guy, bad breath, rough lips. But if everything goes perfectly, the first kiss is unlikely to be forgotten. That time everything was exactly like that, but the first night was something out of the ordinary, namely turning into a slave, but it is better to start from the very beginning. My name is Vika. I am a simple girl from the suburbs and fortunately I managed to enter a capital university. My appearance is quite decent, not without flaws. But they can be attributed to the lack of physical exercise. There is nothing extremely unsuccessful. An ordinary, tall student 175 cm, with small breasts of the 2nd size, a slightly convex bottom and a slender, but not trained body. Not a blonde and not a brunette. This is something in between the two extremes. So now I am in my third year and recently I was lucky to meet a graduate of this university, whose nam... continue reading
I got a relatively exotic name Elina. A seemingly respectable wife, 35 years old. A couple of years ago, I got tired of the measured life of my loving husband Vitya and took my appearance seriously. Diligent training, jogging for tens of kilometers did their job. Now I am a real milf. A nice slim figure, big breasts and a lush ass. Basically, there is everything to please the eye of the spouse and have sex regularly. But no matter how hard I tried, no makeup, no sexy lingerie - my intimate life did not return to its previous course. About 7 years ago, we fucked like rabbits, and now once a month, this is already happiness. At this time, I realized that monogamy is a primeval evil! In my opinion, it is she who killed all the pleasure that can only be obtained from sex. It didn't take long before I turned into a real bitch. The office staff hated me, my husband was constantly offended and didn't talk. People call it "undersexing." And everything would have continued li... continue reading