My sex life

[Bulkin]

(continued from here)

House of Culture

As you know, in every city there is a House of Culture for Railway Workers. There is also one in V. The establishment was in a semi-death state and on weekends - perhaps for an additional fee - a cultural fair-flea market was held on its territory. There you could buy books (oh, where are you, my Homer and Pliny the Younger?), they sold some incense, cats, religious things, and also CDs. Naturally, pirated ones. “Cultural” discs were sold inside, and uncultured ones outside.

Here we will talk about uncultured ones. The main two categories of railroad pornography are photographs and films. I was an active consumer of both, but it all started with photographs.

Some men and, it seems, fat women, laid out all sorts of little things on cardboard - badges, emblems, old cameras and records, as well as a box with ordinary-looking white discs. On the disc itself, something like “50+” or “Young” was written in marker. The price for everything was the same (100 rubles, I think). Typically, the sellers did not pay any attention to you. They chatted enthusiastically among themselves and, as if reluctantly, paused briefly to take the bill from you and put the requested disk in your hands, after which they plunged into conversation again.

I tried to buy from the fat woman in glasses, because, although she puffed like a locomotive, she was not talkative and did not express open disdain for you. She sat motionless, gazing into infinity, patiently waiting for a buyer.

I had a tiny Chinese video player at home with a built-in small screen. Insert the disk, place the device on your stomach - enjoy. Each disk contained exactly a thousand photographs, and I was always amazed at the amazing accuracy of the sellers. Leafing through the photos many times (in search of my favorite ones), I gradually learned the approximate content of each - since there could be a whole photoset for an individual girl, you didn’t have a thousand photos of a thousand girls, but a thousand photos of 10-15 girls.
n
Once, the Chinese device seemed to choke on the inserted disk, then it managed, swallowed and... showed new photographs that I had not seen there before. It turned out that it was not the sellers who recorded a thousand photos on the disk, but my playback showed only the first thousand. So, my moments of leisure were now spent trying to repeat that magical moment when suddenly something was read wrong, after which new, never-before-seen pictures appeared.

Fortunately, with video There were no such problems and the House of Cultural Railway Workers regularly supplied me with video productions. I liked the photographs more because they had more variety, but I also watched the video.

I didn’t remember anything in particular, except for one moment. It was some kind of series of videos in which the same guy fucked women over forty in the same room. Each scene began and ended the same way.

First, the aunt sits dressed on the sofa and briefly talks about herself - who she is, what her name is, who she works for, what she likes about sex, etc. Next came the sex itself, after which there was another interview. Naked, sweaty, with dripping mascara - but happy - the aunt tells how great it was for her.

And then some elderly gray-haired lady came, who said that she was from Russia and works translator The lady looked stern, but tired. Then there was a blow job, the lady was already naked, vaginal sex began and suddenly the lady got the taste. She twitched more and more convulsively, then stretched out her hand to the clitoris, then immediately pulled it away, and then the lady was suddenly attacked by tetanus. She literally had a spasm of orgasm and it was clear that the hero-lover was naturally frightened. The lady twitched as if she was being electrocuted, and then, hard as a wooden stick, she fell on her side, emitting a half-roar, half-howl with her jaws clenched to a crunch.

After a while, the lady caught her breath and tried to mount her lover again, she was soon twisted again, and the scene ended. There wasn’t even a traditional post-coital interview. Maybe she even died in paroxysms of pleasure - I don’t know. There were no comments about this on the disc.

Pissing Girl

One winter weekend, I decided to visit the railway workers again and hit the road. On the street it turned out that there was a fairly strong snowstorm, transport was not running, and the streets were covered with snow. After walking and freezing, I went home (naturally, no one was selling any discs in such weather).

And so, already approaching the house, I went down into the underground passage. There was no one there; freshly made snowdrifts lay on the stairs. I walked along the passage, came around the corner and turned right to start climbing the stairs and froze.

Around the corner, caught by bad weather and need, a girl half-squatted down to pee, and I scared her greatly , suddenly appearing around the corner.

It was an ordinary home student or high school girl. The face was hidden by a hanging hood. She jumped to her feet and began to pull up her thick gray gaiters, while continuing to write - apparently unable to stop.

The wind was blowing overhead, snow dust flew like a whirlwind into our nook, from -under the raised hem of the girl’s down jacket, a tight stream was beating—right inside her pants. “Well, fucked up,” the girl said in a choked voice from under her pulled up hood, without stopping the fountain.

I paused from the surprise of the opening scene, and then silently (so as not to embarrass me even more) walked past and went up into the violence of the elements. What worried me most was how she would now walk in bad weather in wet pants - she wouldn’t catch a cold.


(to be continued)

[Frodo]

Will you ever lose your virginity?

[Bulkin]

Will you ever lose your virginity?

Ha-ha, yes. We’ll get to that soon, sorry for the wait.

[Bulkin]

(continued from here)

Mamba

We are slowly approaching the end of our memories, but we have a big stop ahead – dating site “Mamba”.

I started looking at this site while still living with my parents - to see who in our town meets whom and how. As expected, there were three and a half people there, all without photographs and without any special fantasies. The town is small, everyone knows each other, and showing your face means ruining your reputation, but you still have to live and live here.

It was much more interesting to look at the residents of big cities, where there were people willing to meet two orders of magnitude higher. I did look, but more with the goal of just looking, and not getting to know each other.

Everything changed when I found myself in the city of V. This city is quite large, by local standards, and, after a few years, I suddenly discovered that quite a lot of women from V. want to get acquainted - perhaps even with me.

At different times, I either started or deleted my profiles, but nothing happened whom and without meeting, but getting the opportunity to look at photographs (viewing of which, it seems, was with some restrictions for unregistered users). Of particular interest were, of course, photographs of erotic content, which no, no, and yes, flashed.
Gradually I began to realize that I was not living on a desert island, but in fact, there seemed to be a lot of people around. Emboldened, I sometimes even tried to enter into correspondence with someone. I’ll tell you about a few memorable cases.

Mostly I played the fool, ridiculing some really stupid or arrogant requests. I remember there was some girl with very strict and detailed requirements for the appearance, character and place of work of her future gentleman. But there were, of course, cases when I even foolishly hoped for something.

Once, having seen a photograph of some woman in a swimsuit, I decided that I really liked her. she likes me and, of course, she should like me too (how could it be otherwise?). So, without wasting any time, I wrote to her, saying, let me lick you, okay?

The lady for some reason did not agree, but advised that all this needs to be done only with the woman you love. She didn’t talk to me anymore, limiting herself to a farewell emoticon.
But, a few months later, and having already changed my profile, I started talking with another woman, and she even gave me a phone number, telling me to call her right away, and she will decide whether to call me to her place or not.

I didn’t have a cell phone, and I called her from a landline phone booth. Some drunken laughing woman answered the phone, having difficulty pronouncing the word “cunnilingus.” She asked if I really wanted to be taught this very cunnilingus? “Yes,” I squeaked in response. She answered “I see,” laughed again and hung up.

I returned to the computer and there was already a message from her that she would not meet with me - she changed her mind.
n
By checking more and more boxes in the questionnaire, I gradually expanded the circle of those I was ready to meet. And one day some guy wrote to me. He said that he was a doctor, knew his business well and was gladly ready to take on the hard work of depriving me of anal virginity.

He wrote quite competently, was extremely polite, and emphasized his medical education (without specifying, however, specialization). In his profile, he proudly displayed the length of his penis - it seems 28 centimeters. I timidly objected that somehow this was too much for the first time, and he replied that he was a doctor - you could trust him. But I didn’t trust him.

When I checked the box that I was ready to meet a “m+f” couple, some other guy already wrote. In his profile there were many photos of threesome sex - an album “how we want to try” - and there one guy was either constantly sucking another, or getting a dick in the ass, while a naked woman was excitedly bored next to him.

The guy said that I suit them (him and his imaginary girlfriend) perfectly. You just need to shave off my beard and - you’re welcome to visit me! This one also didn’t seem trustworthy enough to me and I continued my search.


(to be continued)

[Bulkin]

(continued from here)

Pink frame

Finally, one day, a day or two before the New Year, I decided that It’s time for me to have sex. Well, it’s about time. I was 28 years old, my beloved and dear, with whom I could do this one fine evening, was still not around and all that was left was to resort to the help of a prostitute.

In those ancient times, Mamba allowed indicate for purposes dating “looking for a sponsor” and then your profile was marked with a romantic pink frame in the search results. Accordingly, when you yourself were looking for someone, you could either turn on or off the presence of such profiles in the results.

So, I paid attention to the profiles with pink frames.
n
Actually, of course, I have seen them before. As a rule, even if there was no frame, the owners of the profiles were looking for someone aged from 18 to 65 years inclusive, and were ready to meet with a couple M+F, M+M and F+F. In general, such questionnaires were extremely tolerant, which made me extremely happy.

And if the questionnaire had a frame, and even a photo, then I just started to have a pleasant ache somewhere inside me . I loved looking at these attached photographs, among which sometimes you could even see breasts or butts, and it was extremely reassuring to me to know that I could, perhaps, have sex with these women.

However, for the time being this was purely theoretical knowledge.

The first time

I quickly selected the pink-bordered questionnaires, then limited the results to those who were online right now, then excluded those who had to travel three hours on a lame mare, and then I began examining the remaining contingent.

Among the remainder there were several questionnaires without photographs, which I also immediately excluded from the analysis. The survivors had quite varied profiles. Being picky, I also left out those with tattoos, piercings, or purple hair. Well, drug addicts, of course, immediately get away.

The circle of contenders for the pollen of my virginity has shrunk significantly.

After focusing a little more, I also removed those whose the photographs were too beautiful or too numerous. Firstly, I thought, a beautiful photograph is most likely a lie, and secondly, the large number of photographs speaks of the narcissism (i.e. stupidity) of the owner. I wanted to inseminate a lady who was certainly burdened with intelligence.

So, there was a certain Yulia left.

She had one or two photographs taken with a muddy slipper , which showed Yulina’s round and friendly face with dimples on her cheeks. Yulia’s range of interests was quite wide (from 18 to 65 years old), but her profile was somewhat modest, which also flattered me.

We quickly got in touch with her, she named the price (it seems 1000 rubles) and told me where to go. She especially asked not to ring the doorbell, but to dial it from her cell phone when she went up to the floor - she would open it. I didn’t have a cell phone then (when you’re alone, you have no one to call), but I went anyway.

Once in front of the right door, I just knocked loudly a couple of times. They quickly opened the door for me.

Yulia’s face was really friendly and round. Julia herself turned out to be quite round. I would even say fat.

Scolding me in a whisper for not calling, she quickly led me into the apartment, explaining that for some reason the evil neighbor was not happy with the frequent visits of Yulia’s many friends and regularly arranged scandals.

We went into the apartment.

I took off my shoes, took off my jacket, washed my hands in the bathroom, and we went to drink tea.

Small conversation ensued. I asked if the sea was visible from Yulia’s apartment (a rather expected question for the city of V.), but she couldn’t see the sea, the tea was over and it was time to start.

Yulia led me into the hall and told me to wait. She disappeared behind the door into another room, and I began to look around.

It was an ordinary rented apartment, with a TV working in the corner, a sideboard and crystal. There was a decorated Christmas tree in the corner. Opposite the sofa was an unfolded sofa, and on a stool placed next to it was a laptop with an open Mamba. Obviously, this is where Yulia corresponded with me.

Finally, the door opened. Julia came out of the room, followed by a blanket.

There was someone wrapped in the blanket. Through the crack of the blanket I saw only someone’s laughing eyes and said hello. Some girl was sleeping there, behind the wall, they woke her up and asked her to clear her workplace.

I bowed with the blanket and followed Yulia through the open door.

The second room was equal to the first. Old furniture, a small, pop-eyed TV, an unfolded bed (still warm), an iron on the windowsill and mountains of all sorts of rubbish in boxes in the corners.

Unfastening her robe, Yulia sat on the bed, plunging into the folds of her body, and told me to undress.

I quickly threw everything onto the chair (and socks too, if it’s important).

Looking at me critically, Julia asked, Do I have condoms? I was ready for the question and, rummaging through the pile of my clothes, pulled out what I needed.

“Okay!” - said Yulia and, throwing off her robe to the floor, lay naked on the bed, patting her hand next to her - lie down next to her, they say.

When I began to lie down next to her, Yulia suddenly sat down again, and, touching her hand herself by the crotch, said: “Oh, I should have shaved my pussy!” With a wave of her hand, she lay back down, telling me to put on a condom and get started.

We agreed on an hour, there was a white plastic alarm clock on the table and a menacing twist of the second hand.
I began to rustle the condom package, while looking at Yulia.

Her “Punka” turned out to be rather uninteresting. Just an inexpressive fold between thick legs, without any details. A large belly rose sharply higher and went like a chest to a double chin and thick round cheeks. The breasts did not stay on Yulia’s large body and flowed down the sides, to the arms and armpits.

I had never dealt with condoms before, the packaging did not open, the white alarm clock was annoying me, reminding me of the need to take care time, and Yulia’s unexpected weight and dimensions (and most importantly, her completely inexpressive pussy!) all this did not in any way set the mood for a romantic series.

At first, the condom packaging did not break for a long time, then the condom itself didn’t want to turn around, and then, finally, the penis went on an Italian strike and sluggishly resisted being put on, slipping out of the fingers and shrinking in fear.

I rustled and squirmed, struggling with the condom, sitting between my spread legs naked woman, my penis didn’t get hard, the alarm clock was ticking, Yulia was waiting.

Finally, clasping rather than putting on my flabby penis with a condom, in despair I pushed my pelvis between Yulia’s legs, simultaneously falling all over her body.

Punka really turned out to be quite unshaven and I immediately started stabbing from the groin to the navel. It felt as if I had fallen onto a large, tightly inflated rubber boat. Strewn with prickly bread crumbs.

Yulin’s belly turned out to be surprisingly hard and high. I was almost sitting leaning against her rather than lying.

My penis spread out into a limp mass, and I tried in vain to push this mass somewhere under my stomach with my pelvis.

Nothing came of it. And I was stabbing everywhere.

Seeing my torment, Yulia suggested turning on pornography, nodding at the small TV standing next to her.

It didn’t get better either, the TV was theatrical moaned, there was puffing and groaning. What exactly happened there was unclear, because... the old TV showed almost nothing, limited to sound effects.

The member stubbornly did not get up. I asked to turn off the TV and there was silence again.

Yulia decided to start a conversation and asked how often I have sex. I said it has never happened before. She sat up on the bed almost in fear, asking: “What, really?!” I confirmed.

She somehow smiled, became kinder and lay back, spreading her legs again.

I asked to show me the clitoris. She readily opened her expressionless pussy with her hands (I saw a lot of stubble on the outer labia and pubis) and began somewhere up there poking at the expressionless wet little wrinkle - right here, they say. I began to touch the clitoris with my fingers, at the same time thinking whether to lick it or not.

Finally, I decided that I would not, at the same time continuing to touch with one or two fingers between the spread prickly folds.
n
“It’s more pleasant with the clitoris,” said Yulia and even tried to somehow move her pelvis, in time with my movements. I was silent, my penis didn’t get hard, the alarm clock was ticking.

“Okay!” - I said. “I guess I should go!” - climbed out of bed and began to get dressed.

Yulia asked me not to be upset, and while I was getting dressed, she asked what my plans were for the New Year.

I suspected that she might want to invite me to stay with her and the Blanket for the night - wait for midnight, watch “Enjoy Your Bath!” and there are tangerines. We might even try again later – after midnight – who knows? But she didn’t invite.

And I left.

A few days later I saw Yulina’s profile again. It was written there that the life of a poor student is very difficult. After a couple more days, the questionnaire said: “Boys, where are you?” And then I lost sight of Yulina’s career. Perhaps she changed her profile and/or photo and we never crossed paths with her again.


(to be continued)

[Troy]

One of the girls began to panic, struggle, her bra came off, revealing her green underwater breasts, which the snake immediately grabbed her by.

nHere you didn’t lie. There really was such a program. They showed a shark attack. Arms and legs bitten off. And it was like reality.... and the girl was bitten in the pussy by a snake. I remember it well...
But in general what you write is interesting to read, this essay of your simple, uncomplicated life reeks of hopelessness....

Sent after 3 minutes 11 seconds:

and he answered that he was a doctor - you could trust him. But I didn’t trust him.

Well, if the guy didn’t cheat, then you’ve lost a lot)

[Frodo]

Wow, this is so sad, but how you suffered, poor fellow

[Hair shirt]

What else would you like to receive from a person in this situation? If you don’t know how to draw and if you are given a pencil or brushes with paints, what will you draw as a result? Right! It will be something similar to pictureschildren from kindergarten. But everyone is moved by children’s drawings, but by similar drawings by adults, people are horrified and throw them out of the ship. As it was with Ostap in twelve chairs.
Everything in the world needs to be learned. Read, write, walk, talk, skate, bike, drive...
And so on and so forth. And including fucking.

Someone will say that it’s in the genes and that everyone instinctively knows how to do it. Yes, he can. Catch up, beat her so that she doesn’t resist, fussily shove her in, cum right away and then die the next day. This is how animals actually have sex. There’s not much that’s pleasant here.
In general, I think that in all this it’s really necessary that one of the partners has experience of regular sex and that he takes the initiative and patiently and slowly leads his partner to orgasm.
n
And the word leisurely is the main thing here. Calmly, without rushing, without trying to do everything quickly. And this is regardless of which partner is new to sex - a girl or a guy. Well, they, in turn, must trust the one who has undertaken to dominate this entire process. And don’t panic, just trust the person you ended up in bed with.
But it should be noted that with guys it’s still easier in this whole matter. They just need self-confidence and that the body is initially healthy. If a guy is not nervous and does not have complexes, then everything will work out for him and will stand as fast as it should. And this is the main thing that is required of him. So that it stands well and for a long time.

Although, of course, a lot more is needed. So that the penis is not small, so that it does not cum too quickly, so that it is able to control itself and does not leak into a poor woman. Which will then deal with the consequences. This is also very important when a woman believes in her partner one hundred percent and therefore can trust, relax and have fun. And not to watch your partner in order to push him off of you in time. And I think there is little pleasure here.

Well, in general, returning to the topic, I will say that apparently it was supposed to happen. And I think for almost all of us, our first pancake was lumpy. And especially for girls. Well, except maybe for those cases when sex happened with someone close to you who has experience of regular sex life. And I was thinking - isn’t that why the topic of incest is the most popular and most numerous on this forum!?
Well, it’s true!

In practice, it turns out that the first sex with a stranger is just some kind of mental test. And there is little pleasure here, but only fears and worries. And it doesn’t matter who you are, a girl or a guy. But if you have the prospect of sex with someone close and familiar to you, then everything is completely different. You can trust this person. You can just relax and not worry about what will happen and concentrate on your feelings. Which is important.

I think if the author of the topic was supposed to have sex with some person close to him, then this person would take care of everything. Firstly, he would try to transfer all this to the night with the lights off - it’s easier that way. Secondly, this person would take the initiative and first of all would raise the penis through a blowjob or something else. Thirdly, he would ask his inexperienced partner to give himself a massage that smoothly turns into stimulation of erogenous zones.

And of course, a more experienced partner himself would try to get very aroused. And this is very important. It turns you on when you see that your partner is clearly excited, that he is not pretending or pretending, and that he really wants you now. And this, of course, greatly affects the riser. Both for men and for women.
Well, I also heard from women that in order to teach your body to be regularly and completely aroused and have an orgasm, you need time to pass.

That This is something a woman needs to teach her body to eat. Doing this more than once or twice. And then, after quite a long time, a woman will learn to get aroused not from the fact that she hasn’t fucked for a long time, but simply from stimulation of the erogenous zones. That is, let’s just say that the woman didn’t even think about sex. But someone who is not disgusted to her touched her breasts, kissed her behind the ear, got into her panties - and now her pussy is already wet! And her eyes are already sparkling, and she is getting into someone’s pants.

I understand that for some these are just dreams. The dreams of men who would like their women to be like this. The dreams of women themselves who would like everything to work just like that for them. But you need to teach your body to become aroused. How much time do you need to spend to learn to drive a car confidently? I think roughly it takes time for a woman to teach her body to become aroused.

Well, if a woman uses her pussy as a tool to influence men, like if I want, I will, but if I don’t want, I won’t. I’ll give if this and that. And if something is wrong, I won’t give it to you. Well, what can we even talk about here then!?

[Bulkin]

(continued from here)

Massage with continuation

An unsuccessful first experience greatly undermined my faith in myself. In my mind I understood that what happened was a normal and natural thing, but this very mind told me that what happened could happen again and again one day.

A few months later (the snow had already melted), I I decided to give myself another chance.

Mamba came into play again, but now I decided that I needed someone more reliable and experienced. A mother’s hand, so to speak. But only without incest.

When searching, I selected women much older than myself and chose, it seems, a profile with the name “Inna Petrovna”, or maybe ”Nina Petrovna” - I don’t remember. As it should be in such cases, the profile promised a wide range of acquaintances (from 18 to 65 years old), reported that the owner of the profile was 45 years old and lured in for a massage with a continuation.

I contacted Inna Petrovna and he answered me... “her friend.” The friend explained that Inna Petrovna does not have a computer and he, out of the kindness of his heart, helps her maintain contact with the outside world. Inna Petrovna and her friend offered to pay 700 rubles for a massage, I agreed and soon was heading to the Venice Hotel nearby.

The Venice Hotel (now destroyed) was a group of almost trailers- containers in the city center, surrounded by a metal mesh fence.

Inna Petrovna lived in one of the twin trailers - two rooms with one shower and toilet.

nAlthough the questionnaire stated that Inna Petrovna was 45 years old, in reality, it seems to me, she was much older than 50. Maybe even a little over 60. Perhaps she was 60-62. But she looked good and her age did not bother me; on the contrary, it added interest and aroused my imagination.

Inna Petrovna was of average build, with rather heavy breasts, wearing a colorful chintz robe. The hair on her head was once styled in a short bob and dyed, but was already somewhat in need of a new cut and dye.

Nina Petrovna had a small room with a table, two chairs, and a wardrobe , a single bed and a constantly working TV in the corner.

She sat me on a chair by the door, we chatted a little, she asked something from social news - it seems about Maxim Galkin - and suggested treat me to beer (I refused).

Then we gradually got to the heart of the matter and Nina Petrovna began to ask what I like in sex (I looked down shyly) and said that she could do different types of massage , including a prostate massage (which, of course, I immediately wanted, but didn’t show it). Nina Petrovna vaguely waved towards the closet, saying that she “had a toy.”

I said that it could be “just a massage”, and then we’ll see. Seeing my embarrassment, Nina Petrovna said encouragingly that there should be no secrets in sex between people and no need to be embarrassed.

Then someone called her. She picked up the phone and began to say in some irritated voice that she couldn’t do it now, that she should have done it earlier and that she was busy now - she’d look tomorrow.

Having finished the conversation, she apologized and said that “This is from work.”

She gave me a large towel, shower gel and told me to walk along a small corridor to the shower, and on the way back not to get dressed and walk just wrapped in a towel.

When I returned, the room was already dark, she had curtained the window with a blanket and was watching some concert, waiting for me.

Then she said that Now it’s her turn to “refresh herself” and left with her towel, and I was left alone with Galkin and the Wardrobe-In-which-the-Ass-Toy Lies.

Soon Nina Petrovna returned back, in the same robe, with wet hair on the neck and back of her head.

She turned off the sound of the TV and told me to lie naked on my stomach on the bed. Taking off her robe and remaining naked - I saw only her large breasts in the glare of the TV screen - she began the massage.

It was a regular massage. She kneaded the muscles of my back, arms, legs and neck. One by one, she bent my legs back, almost touching my lower back with her toes, saying something about a gymnast, digging her fingers into the muscles, stroking in some places, patting and kneading in others.

In general, The massage was not bad, I almost dozed off. Nina Petrovna’s hands pleasantly slid over her body, and I began to think that perhaps I simply misunderstood something. That, perhaps, it was just about a massage - albeit in the nude. I agreed to this scenario. A pleasant intimate atmosphere arose, albeit without intimacy, but with touching and a view of a naked woman.

Here, Nina Petrovna ordered me to turn over on my back and almost solemnly announced: “And now the debauchery will begin !”.

I lay down on my back and for the first time saw her completely naked. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, half turned towards me and I could see her shaved pubis. This was the second vagina of an adult woman that I saw with my own eyes, and it was pleasantly pleasing to the eye.

In the groin, Nina Petrovna was clean-shaven, the nipples of her heavy breasts were small and pink, her tummy was almost absent - Nina Petrovna was not thin, but you couldn’t call her fat either, and the slightly parted lips of her vagina beckoned with their complex relief between her half-spread legs.

Quickly bringing her penis to readiness with her hands, Nina Petrovna put a condom on it and almost jumped on me, immediately swallowing the penis to the base with her vagina.

She sat on me, her labia majora were completely open and between them a noticeable oblong mound could be seen, almost the size of a little finger battery - clitoris.

I could only lie there and enjoy... the view. The penis was standing, it was somewhere inside this woman, her appearance and actions pleased me extremely, but in the condom I felt little. The head of the penis, trained by years of masturbation, steadfastly faced everything that happened to it at the moment.

Nina Petrovna and I tried different positions. She got up on all fours and I took in the views with great pleasure - a thin waist, a wide strong pelvis, with a classic pair of dimples in the lower back (like a violin), rounded buttocks (somewhat heavy, but cute). Between the buttocks a neat, cute little star of the anus could be seen. Everything was clean shaven, no stubble, no hemorrhoids or blemishes. In the light of the TV, everything looked the same gray-blue color.

Under the anus, which I really wanted to touch with my finger, in time with my movements, a thin strip of mucous skin of the vagina appeared and disappeared - the penis went where - down there, under the anus, he plunged into something soft and came back.

What surprised me most was the lack of temperature difference. Subconsciously, I always thought that it would be somehow noticeably hotter, but, as expected, Nina Petrovny’s body temperature was the same as mine, so I didn’t feel anything.

Nina Petrovna got tired quickly, I moved mechanically. She lay on her back across the bed, opening her amazing vagina for me to see, and we tried it that way. I looked between her legs almost all the time, at this longitudinal mound of hers between her lips, and continued the friction without cumming.

Finally, she sat down and directly asked how I usually cum. “With your hands?” - she clarified. I said, embarrassed, yes. She put me between her spread legs, took my penis in her hands and began to jerk it off with a condom, pointing it at her breasts.

She didn’t use her hands the way I was used to, so the process took a little longer, Nina Petrovna sighed heavily, exchanged tired hands, and I finally, with a groan and arching my pelvis forward, came into the condom.

I thought we would rest a little - I just wanted to lie down, maybe look at Galkin and the naked woman next to her, but Nina Petrovna suddenly developed vigorous activity. She stood up abruptly, turned on the light in the room, put on a robe and ordered to throw the condom into the trash bin under the table.

It became clear that the session was over.

nI got dressed, she wrote down her number on a piece of paper and, walking me out the door, said that she hoped for our frequent meetings.

After probably a month, I once plucked up the courage and called her, asking if she could come in an hour. She answered in an irritated voice that she was now at the market and generally busy - you need to warn in advance.

I didn’t call again.


(to be continued)

[Troy]

Bulkin,
I’ve been reading for the second day I like your chronicle. You have a good command of style.... but I understand that in life you are an unhappy person?! You write that you are married. But your stories are imbued with sexual dissatisfaction and hopelessness. Which you dress in comic clothes

[Bulkin]

but I understand that in life you are an unhappy person?! You write that you are married. But your stories are imbued with sexual dissatisfaction and hopelessness

I am married and happy. The events described here happened many, many years ago and will soon come to their logical conclusion.

[Hair shirt]

I’ve been reading your chronicle for the second day now. I like it. You have a good command of style.... but I understand that you are an unhappy person in life?! You write that you are married. But your stories are imbued with sexual dissatisfaction and hopelessness. Which you dress in comic clothes n

No! The most ordinary life of an ordinary young man who doesn’t grab stars from the sky, not a major, with an ordinary, undistinguished appearance and without any natural talents.
We have thousands of such people living in fucked-up places. Some are in the parents’ house, some are in the dormitory from the enterprise. They are unpromising, it is written on their foreheads that they will never be bosses. Girls shy away from them, and especially no one will ever give them to them.

And even then - this is still a light mode and such a young man still has a timid hope that someone will someday give him in this life.
Can you imagine the places in our homeland where morality is very strict and where girls lose their virginity only after marriage and only with their groom?
And imagine these young people who know what if If you stick it to someone, they’ll cut you like that. And all the girls are someone’s sisters. And there are no others in the area. So what to do!?
And the prospect of sex appears only after the wedding. This is where I think there is another problem.

[Bulkin]

(continued from here)

ICQ

Several months have passed. During this time, I went to the movies several times with two different girls I met in ICQ. I think everyone present still remembers what it is. And they remember that there was an excellent opportunity to search by your city, gender, name, age and some other data. This is Mamba-light!

I usually found some girl/aunty and wrote something to her. Sometimes they answered, sometimes they didn’t. I remember that we corresponded for a long time with a woman from Belarus, who had long ago left for Germany and worked there as a cook in a restaurant. Although I started a correspondence with her with vague plans to somehow communicate with the opposite sex on the topic of pussies, we didn’t talk about sex with her, which she was then very surprised by, saying that I was somehow special.

She and I just told each other how each other lives. She is in her Hamburg, I am in my V. At work, she was pestered by the owner of the restaurant - a loving native of the CIS. My interlocutor rejected his advances/addictions; they were unpleasant to her and, in general, the situation depressed her. I tried to somehow cheer her up.

Having started communication, we immediately agreed that we would immediately stop when we began to feel burdened and stop receiving joy from it. That’s what happened once.

I remember that I corresponded for a long time with a resident of Khabarovsk, who at first treated me rather coolly, but then, when summer and vacation time arrived, she began to ask for a visit (she was very I wanted to go to the sea), which I didn’t like at all. By the way, we talked a little about sex with her, and she said that she once had sex with two guys. “But not immediately, but one by one!” - she clarified.

Finally, there were those two girls I mentioned, with whom I went to the cinema at different times. I didn’t have any special feelings for any of them and I went to the cinema only because I felt like it was necessary - like, age, already, everyone at that age goes to the cinema. Well, I went. We sat in silence for the entire session, then came out and went in different directions with relief.

I even held the hand of one during the session, but it was all somehow forced, not my thing. The girl was also tense and after one session she said that she was very busy in the near future and did not have time to meet again. And we stopped dating.

In retrospect, it all turned out to be fortunate.

L.K.

Gradually I expanded the geography of my acquaintances and one day I got into a conversation with L.K., who lives in the city of U. not far from V.

S L.K. We talked online for some time, and then even saw each other once in V., where she came on business. For some reason, our conversations boiled down to the fact that I should buy her a swimsuit, and I agreed that, yes, it would probably be nice, naturally hoping to see the process of trying on a swimsuit, as well as - ah, dreams! – continued.

It was decided that here she will come to V. on business, I will meet her - “let’s get to know each other first,” then she will go to her place in U. and after a while she will come and we’ll go get a swimsuit.

We met, walked around the square to the bus, she left and then, in response to my questions, when, in fact, the second episode, she refused for a long time, after which she said , that she has severe herpes and she can’t do it now.

I didn’t know what “herpes” was. I thought it was something like gonorrhea (which I vaguely heard something about and even seemed to see in “The Adventures of the Good Soldier Schweik”), but a little more innocent. Like a sexually transmitted disease, but not fatal - if you don’t have sex during an exacerbation.

In general, this herpes of hers somehow put me off. We talked for some time, then I went to visit my parents, and she directly demanded that I bring her a souvenir from the trip.

I brought a local history book, which completely offended her and our communication died down. So I never saw how L.K. tries on a swimsuit, unfortunately.

Meeting Yu.T

The acquaintance that we will now talk about was quite long and eventful, so we will try to break it down into several stories.

Wandering around Mamba , I often wrote at random in various profiles and sometimes we started some kind of communication. Of course, I always wanted sex - to poke a living person with my dick - but my natural shyness did not allow me to unleash all my fantasies on my interlocutor.

With Yu.T. We also met purely by chance. I wrote, she replied. We corresponded sluggishly, a phrase or two a week, when we were both online at the same time. She told me something from the world of art and avant-garde artists, and in response I shone with pearls of wit and erudition. So things went on - two serious adults talking about painting (she) and animation news (me).

One day, being in a depressed state of mind - it seems, after it became clear , that L.K.’s vagina is dressed in a swimsuit. I can’t see, I sat again and leafed through Mamba’s profiles, looking for My One and Only.

And then Yu.T. wrote to me, I answered in the spirit that, they say, I’m sad, I’m not in a good mood . And, plucking up the courage, he told her that I’m already so many years old, and I haven’t tried cunnilingus, although I’ve been dreaming about it for a long time.

And it turned out that... Yu.T. loves cunnilingus very much. He always makes her happy, and she gets pleasure from him.

So, a new spark and a new direction have been added to our conversations. We began to correspond not in Mamba, but by e-mail and more openly.

Of course, the avant-garde artists remained, but there were more juicy details. For example, Yu.T. I was sunbathing with a friend on the roof (topless) and got sunburned. Imagine my happiness when (after my persuasion) she sent me several photographs of the injured part of the body! It was bare breasted! Photographed in the mirror - for me personally! Real woman’s breasts!

Judging by the pictures, Yu.T.’s breasts are was quite small, but very cute. You could say there were no breasts in the usual sense. Without a bra Yu.T. she looked like a girl and only mature female nipples revealed her as a woman.

Of course, I liked everything terribly and I did not skimp on compliments and delight.

For efficiency, we exchanged phone numbers (by that time I already had a cell phone) and bombarded each other with SMS.

She began asking about the history of my acquaintances on Mamba. I briefly told her about my desperate search and that I was even ready (with interest) to meet even a woman with a strap-on - just to finally have the opportunity to fully communicate with her vagina.

nShe laughed and said that it seems like a magnet attracts perverts to her. This offended me somewhat - she asked for frankness, and now, it turns out, I’m a pervert.

She asked not to be offended and said that she herself was a bit of a pervert. I sent her a text message asking what exactly her perversion was.

“What do you think about golden showers?” she asked.

(to be continued)

[Hair shirt]

I think that I will not be mistaken if I assume that almost three quarters of our male population between the ages of twenty and thirty are experiencing approximately the same thing. I know several guys who got married, according to my observations, solely because they were already completely fucked up when no one gives and when the female sex constantly rejects and ignores them. But the guys themselves, of course, yes, they don’t shine with refined manners, they’re also so-so outwardly, they have constant problems with money, they don’t have a clue.

And then one fine day he comes across a girl who is also everything It’s really fucked up when everyone fucks, but no one gets married.
And she immediately sets the condition for him that he should get married. And he - no question! But there will be sex!? She is not a question, but get married first!
And so they go to the registry office and write a statement.

Well, those who stubbornly don’t want to get married - read about them higher.
But I think we must remember that such a fate awaits young people who are not socialized. Well, that is, those who shy away from any companies that are not built into this or that community. Once after the army I was visiting for about a week one of my army friends who lived in one of the small towns near Moscow. So you won’t get bored there! While you’re walking around the city, you’ll say hello ten or more times.

They simply won’t let you get bored, someone always needs you. Someone urgently needed to unload something, and someone needed a lift because you had a car. And someone needs to fix something because you are a little tinkerer with computers. And in the evening they come after you and for some reason you go to a club where some local ensemble is performing live. And now you’re already backstage drinking vodka from a mug with someone. And then, a little over an hour later, one of the girls present asks you - do you have galoshes!?

You answer her - where? At home? She laughs and says, “I’m not the one asking about condoms.” And you ask her in response - why do you need them!?
She says - I don’t need them. You need this. And again, in a stupor, you answer her - why!?
And she tells you - but I won’t be without a condom.
And you’re like - fuck, what should I do!? Where to run and how to escape!?
Go fuck her right now!? But somehow I didn’t prepare for this right away!

Well, in general, they have fun. And by the way, the girls, I wouldn’t say that they are some drunken, alcoholic whores. Not really! Yesterday’s schoolgirls. Or even maybe not yesterday’s but real ones. Well, you’re just in the company of people she knows. You seem to belong if you are here with everyone.
And you don’t need any mamba, you don’t need to correspond with someone for weeks and months. You don’t have to spend years imagining how your first sex will happen. If you are socialized, then everything that needs to happen will happen. And it will happen by itself, spontaneously and naturally.

Therefore, all these sufferings described above are due to the fact that a person is cut off from his society, somewhere hanging out like shit in an ice hole in an unfamiliar city, among unfamiliar people . One would be useless to anyone. What did you want!? Why should it be any different!?

[Bulkin]

(continued from here)

Invitation

It seemed to me that I was sleeping and seeing a wonderful, wonderful dream. Of course, I had a very positive attitude towards the golden shower. The only difference was whether the question was about extradition or admission. It turned out that Yu.T. The thought of peeing on someone makes me happy and warm.

If people were fireworks, I would fly to the skies and explode with delight.

Ever since I was a teenager for the first time I saw several shots of women peeing on men, fantasies about repeating this did not leave me. To be between a woman’s legs, facing her vagina, when the woman herself strives to get closer to you, to reveal herself completely, to literally pour herself over her - what could be more tender?

We talked with Yu.T. a little more, gradually heating up. And she sent me two videos (made earlier and not for me) showing her masturbating.

She recorded both videos on her phone, holding it in one hand and caressing herself with the other. Both began by showing her bare feet and toes, her nails covered in bright red polish, before the camera panned to her vagina. My heart ached sweetly. The crotch was clean shaven, only a neat triangle of short-cropped hair was visible on the pubic area. Yu.T. she ran her fingers over her labia and touched her clitoris. The fingernails were also painted with red varnish and these bright spots darted across the screen, touching, stroking, shaking, pressing and squeezing. Sometimes the hand disappeared from the frame for a moment, and then reappeared - Yu.T. wet her fingers with saliva. Sometimes a finger could dive into the vagina, disappearing into the alluring depths, but mostly the emphasis was on the clitoris and the surrounding area.

I melted like butter in the sun and spread across the sofa with happiness and tenderness and then Yu.T. asked: “Can you guess what I want to see now?”

And she asked me to send me a photo of my penis.

I had already told her about my first experience of sex and how nothing happened because of my excitement. Hearing about the upcoming photo shoot, the member panicked and did not want to take a fighting position. I suffered for 15-20 minutes, simultaneously notifying Yu.T. by SMS. and process, but nothing worked. Giving up, I sent her a still life of a “hamster sleeping in dense thickets.” I think it was quite a sight.

The next day we chatted some more, discussing the videos she sent.

For example, I asked why both videos begin from the feet It turned out that she once met with one person (which, perhaps, will be a separate story) and this person was a bit of a foot fetish lover. The videos were intended for him.

When asked about the method of masturbation, it turned out that Yu.T. she has never had a vaginal orgasm, and she always comes only by stimulating the clitoris.

I wanted to squeeze out as much information as possible, and I even asked her about a mole visible near her vagina. What size is it, is it convex, is it in the way, etc.

Yu.T. in turn, asked if I liked the videos (of course I did!) and if I masturbated to them (yes!).

Finally, she said that she was ready to invite me to her place, because that she really wants to be the first one to whom I perform cunnilingus – if I agree, of course.

I just couldn’t believe my eyes. I have been waiting and dreaming about this moment all my life. A beautiful adult woman wants to show me her pussy and will even let me kiss her there, between her legs! My pulse was probably like that of an astronaut under extreme overload. My heart was beating in my throat, my mouth was dry. Of course I agreed.

Yu.T. I immediately switched to a businesslike tone. The meeting was accompanied by a number of conditions. However, nothing special was required:

- buy condoms
- shave your armpits and scrotum
- trim your pubic and perineal hair carefully, but don’t shave (otherwise it will sting)

Not without some everyday complications (lack of hot water) I shaved and Yu.T. asked if I got aroused during the process. To be honest, I didn’t feel much excitement. The water was cold, the razor was dull, the hand was inexperienced. But I managed.

To buy condoms, I went to a remote area of ​​the city (so as not to run into friends), chose a separate kiosk, walked around for a long time, looking bored, waiting for the moment when no one was around . Finally, seizing the opportunity, I ran up to the kiosk, stuck my head into the slot for customers and squeaked: “A pack of condoms, please!” Bananas! There were three women at the kiosk at once. There was some kind of audit going on, probably the aunties were checking with a thick magazine where all their goods, prices and quantities were recorded. My intrusion distracted them from this action. One of them sighed heavily and began to look for what she had requested, while the other two looked at me disapprovingly. Nobody said a word. My head stuck out of their wall like a hunting trophy, sniffled and made it difficult to concentrate on accounting.

Having finished with condoms, I went to the pharmacy and bought “Whatever Forte” because I was very afraid that I would again not have an erection from horror.

Finally, I was fully equipped and ready for the meeting.

Yu.T. I didn’t approve of the banana flavor of the condoms, but said that these would do. But purchasing the pills turned out to be appropriate. Both were especially pleased with the word “Forte” in the name - apparently, it’s a good, powerful thing.

We agreed that I would come to her on Saturday afternoon, and she would send the children for the weekend to a friend (with whom we sunbathed topless on the roof in the summer).

I wrote down the address, phone number and detailed instructions on how to get to her house. All we had to do was wait.


(to be continued)

[Hair shirt]

That’s it! Some kind of fucked up mess!
From that moment on I passed.
Golden shower, delivery, strap-on...
It remains to describe in detail how someone artistically shits on someone.
It’s like you don’t understand anything, this is scat.
What an abomination in the face of God!


In general, I think the majority of those present, no matter how tolerant they are, will also not like all this homosexuality.
I think that most of the topics discussed here, including incest, are in fact quite natural, and quite harmless for the majority of those present.
But these deviations on the topic of sticking something up your ass, pissing on someone, taking a shit...
All this, in my opinion, is unnatural and not for everyone.

[Bulkin]

(continued from here)

Meeting

From the city of V., where I lived, to the city of U., where Yu.T. lived. I had to travel four hours by train. The travel time passed quite quickly. We exchanged text messages, both looking forward to the upcoming meeting. Before boarding the train, I ate “Something Forte” and was now slightly afraid that I might get an iron erection halfway through the journey. But the fears were in vain. It seems that “Forte” was made of chalk and glucose, acting more on a psychological level than on a physiological one.

Now, I’m already in the U.

nThe town turned out to be small and sleepy. A great place to raise children away from the bustle of the metropolis, close to nature, but at the same time in civilized conditions - with sewerage, running water, libraries and relatively quick access to universities and institutes of the city of V.

Following Yu.T.’s instructions, I got to her house, went up, it seems, to the fourth floor and stopped in front of the door. My heart was pounding, my mouth was dry, in my hand I had a bag with a piece of expensive hard cheese (Yu.T. asked me to bring it), a bottle of Martini, as well as all sorts of other treats and delicacies. I knocked.

Yu.T. turned out to be quite short. She wrote about herself in the questionnaire as “a fragile lady” - and that’s how it all turned out in reality. I was probably two and a half heads taller than her, she weighed about forty kilograms, she was thin, fragile and petite.

She let me into the apartment. We exchanged a couple of phrases, I gave her the cheese and other products, and went to wash my hands.

Yu.T. I lived with two children in a three-room apartment. She and her husband divorced (she said she didn’t want sex with him) and her husband went to Australia to work as a programmer. And Yu.T. stayed with in U. At each of our meetings, the children were with a friend, Yu.T. and I’ve never seen them.

The apartment bore all the traces of the wreck of the family ship. It is possible that the family previously lived in another apartment, and then Yu.T. She has already moved into this one - perhaps it was left to her from her parents or grandmother. The apartment simply screamed about the need for renovation. It was quite sad to see Y.T. (and potentially her children) in the middle of this destroyed housing. The wallpaper was peeling off the walls in places, the paint on the door frames and window sills was peeling, and there was rust and stains in the bathroom. Although there were three rooms, one remained uninhabited and empty. There was no furniture there except an empty old dusty sideboard. On the floor in the middle of the room there were two or three pots with dried houseplants. The second room, where Yu.T. lived, was also quite empty - there was a sofa, a wardrobe, a TV and, possibly, something else. It was clear that someone lived in this room, but the situation was still quite sad.

The door to the third room remained locked all the time. “There’s a nursery there,” explained Yu.T. This constantly locked door bothered me all the time and I suspected that big naked and hairy men with thick dicks could be hiding there, so that at the right moment they could jump out and take possession of the defenseless me, or just a criminal criminal to start extorting money, for example. Yu.T. I prepared a festive dinner, dressed in a beautiful blouse with a skirt and stockings, and walked in festive shoes. Quite noticeable breasts were clearly visible under the blouse, although I had seen photographs of her in which the breasts seemed completely flat (which in no way diminished her femininity, by the way).

We both felt a little awkward. They didn’t talk about sex. We talked about all sorts of abstract topics, had dinner, and I poured her a martini (at her request, since I don’t drink myself). We sat down in her room, turned on the TV and began watching some music channel. It was getting dark and the room became dark.

At some point, Yu.T. she turned her head to me, looked into my eyes and said: “Let’s kiss.”

We kissed. This was the first kiss in my life. For the first time in 29 years I kissed a stranger. And in general, with a person who was not my relative (mom, dad, my mother’s sisters and my aunts).
They kissed, knocked their glasses, and then returned to the TV.


The video for “Destination Calabria” started with a whole bunch of girls wearing short skirts. Yu.T. asked if I would like to lick it. I replied that it might depend on the circumstances.
Then we kissed again. And further. I liked kissing.

Yu.T. She said it was time to go to bed. I helped her spread out the sofa and then asked permission to undress her. I wanted to do it myself.

She stood in front of me, and I sat down on the sofa and began to unbutton the buttons of my blouse, kissing the exposed areas of skin. Under the blouse there was a bra that was quite hard to the touch. Leaving him alone, I moved on to the most cherished thing - the skirt.

There were no problems with the skirt. Removed items from Yu.T. took it from me and carefully folded it on a nearby chair.

Finally, in front of me, in the light of the turned on TV, stood a miniature woman in a bra, panties, stockings and shoes.
The bra didn’t want to come unfastened. I fiddled with the clasp, pulled, tugged, twisted, but it didn’t work. Yu.T. laughed and helped take it off. It turned out that the bra was so hard that it created the roundness of the breasts. Under the bra, Yu.T.’s chest was flat, like a little girl’s, only with large female nipples.

I crawled off the sofa onto the floor and, looking up, began filming with Yu.T. panties. The pubic area with neatly trimmed short hair was revealed and I kissed it. The panties slid lower, revealing the delicate skin of the thighs with blue veins. I kissed what I saw. Finally, the panties went down and there, between my legs, I saw (and felt) the delicate skin of the labia.

Literally in one movement, I stripped naked in a split second, Yu.T. I lay down on the sofa, on my back, with my legs spread towards the TV so that I could clearly see in the light of the screen. I settled my head between her legs, carefully absorbing every detail.

Yu.T.’s vagina. it was beautiful and interesting. The labia majora parted slightly and the small labia peeked out between them, still closed by a winding furrow, but inviting. I froze. Here it is - that very moment.

At first I just kissed. I kissed those lips, those thighs, that mole that I saw in her videos. Gradually, the kisses focused on the vagina.

There was no smell or taste. Just soft and warm skin. But we are here, between our legs, not for the sake of gastronomic pleasures. I ran my tongue along the groove between my labia, opening them and penetrating deep, trying not to forget anything and remember it for the rest of my life...

Quite quickly I got tired. It was unclear what to do. I moved my tongue this way and that. Now he went up, now down, trying to lick the asterisk of the anus. He moved his tongue around, sucking each sponge individually and entirely. He tried to penetrate his tongue as deeply as possible into the vagina (envious of the anteaters with their long tongues), but could not, resting his nose and face on the pubic bone.

My tired neck ached. Finally, I sat down between Yu.T.’s spread legs. "Tired?" - she laughed and told me to put on a condom.

Then we had sex. When I could, I kissed everything I could reach. If we changed positions, I first kissed and licked the exposed areas of the body, and then only started sex. When Y.T. ended up in a knee-elbow position, I carefully kissed and licked her ass, not missing anything (she later admitted that she did not expect this).

Everything was wonderful. Only I felt almost nothing. The penis was standing, we made all the necessary movements, but I could not cum in the condom. Previously, Yu.T. and I We discussed this too, and she knew this problem of mine. So when they were both out of breath, they ended up just masturbating. She played with her clitoris, and I played with what I had. Later, after several of our meetings, Yu.T. set herself the goal of bringing me to ejaculation during vaginal sex and she finally succeeded.

I arrived with a toothbrush. We washed ourselves, lay down together on the spread out sofa and Y.T. suddenly, in an unexpectedly stern voice, she said that she didn’t like to be touched at night. I moved away and we fell asleep.

I think she was afraid that I would somehow start to disturb her sleep, climbing everywhere and causing irritation. Or, perhaps, she was afraid that I would take some liberties with her at night, while she did not notice anything in her sleep. There was nothing like that, and when we met later, we slept quite closely intertwined, without any strict warnings.


(continued here )

[Hair shirt]

About the room that was closed...
Well, I think this is a completely normal situation. It was just that the apartment was apparently a mess. Like all of us. And before your arrival there were two options. Or start your life on Monday and do a general cleaning in the apartment - throw away anything unnecessary, clear away the rubble of useless things that you feel sorry for throwing away but which you don’t use. Wash everything, put it in its place, re-think why you need this or that shelf, this or that chair, this or that thing.
Or you can simply shovel everything that is unnecessary at the moment into one room and close this room. It’s easier.

About her fears, so that you don’t touch her at night...
You apparently loaded her a little with your increased attention to her ass hole . Agree, it’s not every day that you get your anus licked from where you shit. Pardon my French.
And she was simply apparently afraid, and apparently justified, that you would shove it up her ass at night while she was sleeping. But this is apparently unusual for her and she has not practiced this before.

[Bulkin]

(continued from here)

Continuation

In the morning, when we woke up, the first thing I did was ask to “look.” and Yu.T. allowed. I dove my head under the blanket, after which some part of the morning passed with my head between her legs and admiring the treasure that had fallen into my hands.

Of course, I licked again , kissed, touched, looked at.

Yu.T. she allowed me to put my finger in her ass (which I had also never done to anyone before) and I really liked that too. I didn’t feel any difference in sensations, but visually everything was fine. In front of me lay a completely naked miniature woman with her legs spread. My finger was in her ass, and the opened vagina was calling and beckoning.

We didn’t have much luck with the golden shower. Yu.T. For some reason she was embarrassed and said that she should be asked. In all our meetings, we tried only once. Perhaps it was the morning after our first night.

We went naked to the bathroom to wash ourselves. I sat down at Y.T. between my legs, and she stood over me in the bathroom. I immediately started licking, but she said that it turned her on and prevented her from peeing, and we both really wanted her to pee. Slightly crouching over my open mouth, she concentrated for several seconds and finally a bright yellow stream began to flow.

I didn’t like the taste then. It was quite bitter and did not cause any special gastronomic pleasures, and the bright yellow color (Yu.T. was taking vitamins) distracted from romantic moods. I was somewhat disappointed, and after a few sips, I simply took a mouthful and let it down without swallowing.

(A little practical advice for readers without experience: drink plenty of water if you plan to play golden rain with a partner and don’t play in the rain in the morning, after a whole night of sleep - the taste, color and smell are not for everyone).

More Y.T. She never wrote about me, even though I later asked. Perhaps there were several factors, which we will not go into. One time, at my big request, she simply peed in the toilet, spreading her legs wide so that I could see better.

We have sex again, breakfast, sex again. We kissed, hugged and luxuriated.

Farewell to Yu.T. She even offered to give me one of her panties as a souvenir, but I refused.

Again four hours by train, and I’m at home, in the city of V.
We spent the rest of the week discussing what happened and making plans for future meetings. Yu.T. She praised me that when I arrived, I did not immediately approach her, but behaved modestly and reservedly. When asked what would have happened if I had behaved differently, she replied, “Then I would have greatly humiliated you.” I didn’t ask what was meant here and I still don’t know the answer. I probably wouldn’t want to find out this from my own experience.

The sex life of Y.T.

In free time from sex, when our mouths and bodies were resting, Yu.T. told something from her life. Mostly, these were stories related to her sex life, but not always.

Yu.T.’s mom. died, and the girl grew up with her father and older brother. Her brother took her virginity when she was still in elementary school, and then regularly undressed and fucked her until one day he died from an overdose. And Yu.T. she was left alone with her father.

After finishing school, she went to work as a secretary “for the director.” I may have missed several stages of my career, but I simply don’t remember them anymore.

As it turned out, sex between a secretary and a director is not an anecdotal stereotype at all, but quite real life. In his youth, Yu.T. was very similar to Alisa Selezneva from the movie “Guest from the Future,” but who among us hasn’t dreamed of having sex with Aliska? The director also dreamed and he just succeeded. Again and again. Regularly. For years.

After some time, Yu.T. got married, it seems, while continuing to work as a secretary.

She had two children - first a girl, and a few years later a boy. Both times – through caesarean section due to Yu.T.’s extremely delicate physique. By the time we met, the children were already schoolchildren, but I never saw them.

One time when she wanted to show me something, Yu.T. opened the door to the nursery, which had been locked all the time. The door led to a completely different world. If the rest of the apartment was at the initial stage of destruction and decline, then the children’s room was a striking difference. An excellent renovation was made there, the windows were replaced, a suspended ceiling was installed. The walls, the lamps, the switches, the flooring - everything was like from another world. Crossing the threshold, it was as if you had teleported from the dying Khrushchev into the world of the prosperous middle class. The room sparkled with cleanliness and neatness. It was clear that they really gave their best to the children here. And the miniature mother of the family slept on a broken sofa in the next room with sagging wallpaper, a drafty window and crumbling chipboard furniture. She almost literally slept on the threshold - almost on the rug - in front of the door to her childhood, protecting her chicks.

How the family life of Yu.T. I don’t know. Sex with my husband somehow didn’t work out and, perhaps, Y.T. sometimes I met with someone.

When it all ended in divorce, there were a little more meetings.

One was a fisherman, older than Yu.T., who lived with his wife in the city of V., where I came from. The fisherman’s hands were quite badly disfigured by the frost, the skin was stained and peeling. But he was probably a good man and they met for some time in U. At the meeting, the fisherman brought her his catch as a gift. It seems that he had a slight penchant for a foot fetish.

The other was such a classic fragile macho musician of small tailoring. He grew long hair, walked in knee-length, brutal-looking lace-up boots, and drove his mother’s car. By the way, I laughed for a long time when Yu.T. told me that these masculine high boots with 30 centimeters of lacing are actually equipped with a zipper on the side - like, unfasten and take off / put on, and the laces are for beauty, disgusting.

Well then Well, this guy was more interesting. She also met him on Mamba. He was looking for a woman in whose presence he could masturbate in the car. They wrote each other and met. She got into his car. They talked about this and that. She asked him to show his penis (here Yu.T. briefly interrupted her story and tried to make me understand as gently as possible that I did not have the biggest dick of her life). He willingly lowered his pants and showed what he had. At her request, he began to masturbate, and she lifted her skirt and showed him her panties - for inspiration. When he finished, she said that it was her turn and quickly brought herself to orgasm.

So they dated for a while, and then she invited him to her place. As soon as they entered the apartment, right there in the hallway, without taking off his famous lace-up boots with a zipper, he pulled off her jeans and buried his nose in her crotch.

Like me, he loved cunnilingus very much and did not miss a moment.

Perhaps he also discovered the joy of golden rain for her. She told me about someone “who taught me” and “who loves it very much”, but I don’t know who she is talking about. However, I know how it all happened the first time with this guy.

In one of the meetings, he was lying naked on the couch, and she was sitting with her vagina on his face. He licked diligently. And then she realized that she needed to go to the toilet, but he did not let her go and said: “Piss like this.” She sat for a while, thought, and then released her inner “no” and it started to flow into his mouth. Although he swallowed as quickly as he could, some of it still leaked onto the pillow. When the flow dried up, he said that he still wanted to try.
Some time later, they were in the bathroom. He stood, and she sat on her knees in front of him and gave him a blowjob. And then she suddenly realized that he was pissing in her mouth. She panicked a little, but now that the pillow was safe, another “taboo” collapsed and everything ended well.

Over time, all these acquaintances stopped. Yu.T. said that when the time comes, she simply erases all contacts so that in the future there will be no temptation to write or call. It became clear how this will happen with us in the future.


(end to follow)

[mm]

It’s a long and tedious read, maybe I’m not used to thoroughly expressing my fantasies

[Hair shirt]

long and tedious reading, maybe I’m not used to thoroughly expressing my fantasies

You smile at your thoughts and we have to guess what you really wanted to say. Again, well, you could at least connect the cases! And then something like “mine laughed.”

Well, in general, what did you want to say?
Why aren’t you used to reading someone’s detailed fantasies?
Or are you not used to expressing your fantasies?
Probably still not used to reading someone’s fantasies. Well, don’t read it then! What does the author have to do with it? No one is forcing you to do this.
And again, this is not a paid subscription resource where you paid money and expect interesting content for which you paid.

I would advise you before To write something more than two words, learn to at least slightly connect the cases and thereby respect those who will then read what you have written. Because it’s very difficult to sort out these puzzles with errors, trying to get to common sense.
Well, as for the author of this sexual experience...
So it really would be very boring if it didn’t correspond in reality, probably about eighty percent of men. Half of whom will never admit it, another part simply forgot about all this, saving their psyche and not wanting to remember what is not the most pleasant in this life.

Another part remembers, but is not able to put it all on paper. Well, finally, there are those who remember and can explain it, but for some reason this is not necessary. But everyone, one way or another, reading recognizes themselves because that’s exactly how it was - "What surprised me most was the lack of temperature difference. Subconsciously, I always thought that it would be somehow noticeable hot, but, as expected, Nina Petrovna’s body temperature was the same as mine, so I didn’t feel anything."

[Hair shirt]

One time when she wanted to show me something, Yu.T. opened the door to the nursery, which had been locked all the time. The door led to a completely different world. If the rest of the apartment was at the initial stage of destruction and decline, then the children’s room was a striking difference. An excellent renovation was made there, the windows were replaced, a suspended ceiling was installed. The walls, the lamps, the switches, the flooring - everything was like from another world. Crossing the threshold, it was as if you had teleported from the dying Khrushchev into the world of the prosperous middle class. The room sparkled with cleanliness and neatness. It was clear that they really gave their best to the children here. And the miniature mother of the family slept on a broken sofa in the next room with sagging wallpaper, a drafty window and crumbling chipboard furniture. She almost literally slept on the threshold - almost on the rug - in front of the door to her childhood, protecting her chicks.

This paragraph is like a false note in this or that composition . It hurts the ear and there is generally too much pathos in this place. You will somehow decide on the tone. Well, if you really want it, then there must be some justification for the pathos. In short, such things need to be played out in the text in advance. Otherwise, it’s really like putting a saddle on a cow.

[Bulkin]

(continued from here)

Parting

We started meeting at first every week, but then somewhat less often - at my request, however. The meetings followed the same scenario. All week we discussed what happened over the weekend, shared news, and made plans. On Saturday I took the train and drove four hours to the U. I had with me the requested cheese, martini and something else.

We met, spent the night and half the day together, and on Sunday I went to my place, leaving a thousand dollar bill under my pillow.

Once, in one of the first meetings, I brought her the dildo with a suction cup. We didn’t use it then, it seems, and I left it to her, saying that I didn’t need it.

A couple of days later, T.Yu. enthusiastically wrote that with the help of a new toy she managed to get a vaginal orgasm for the first time in her life. Before that, all her life she achieved orgasm only by stimulating the clitoris.

For several days we discussed this small achievement of ours, and she shared her impressions. Unfortunately, the second vaginal orgasm turned out to be much weaker than the first and T.Yu. I was very worried about this. I consoled myself that this is normal - when you expect something very much and constantly listen to yourself, it doesn’t turn out the way you would like.

But, besides sex, we don’t have a special relationship arose. I deliberately maintained a distance - I kept saying “You” and calling me by my first and patronymic names. She said “you” to me and, it seemed, everyone was happy with everything.

Once, during sex, one suddenly said “marry me.” I stopped and said that I didn’t think it was possible for us to have any long-term future together. We were too different in temperament, interests and character. We could live together - no doubt - but this experiment would most likely end in failure, to mutual disappointment.

And she seemed to agree. She said that - yes, - we meet only for sex.

Then, after several meetings, when we had sex again and she seemed carried away by the process, she suddenly asked: “Show me Should I have your passport?" I even burst out laughing out of surprise.

I didn’t have my passport with me, and this question and the circumstances in which it was asked suggested that she might think that I married and, in general, a clever swindler.

We corresponded less and less, and sometimes did not meet for several weeks.

Finally, when I arrived in U., the meeting went almost as usual, only T.Yu. she looked somewhat thoughtful, somewhat distracted. It’s as if she wants to say something, but she doesn’t dare. She didn’t seem to enjoy our sex. Finally, sitting with her vagina on my face, she said almost irritably: “Now - jerk off!” Which is what I did. But that’s when our sex ended.

A few hours later, when we were still naked lying next to each other and getting ready to part, it was time for me to get ready for the train, she suddenly said: “Let’s fuck you in the ass? " We had never done this before and maybe it would have been great, but I really had to go already, and I said next time.

There was no next time.

The French writer Henri Barbusse has a story “Tenderness”. It is written in the epistolary genre and is a series of letters from a middle-aged woman written to a young lover. In the first letter, she says goodbye to her pariah and says that, although separation is terribly difficult for both of them, it will be better this way - let everyone live their own lives and over time the pain of separation will fade away. The letters came, it seems, every year, and in each one our heroine shared stories and news from her life. In each subsequent letter, less and less pain was felt - it was noticeable that life was gradually taking its toll. In the penultimate letter, written probably four or five years later, the mood is quite cheerful - all the torment is already in the past and this is just a letter from one good friend to another.

And then the last letter arrives.

It says that the heroine committed suicide on the day of separation, many years ago, and pre-prepared letters at her dying request were sent by someone they knew.
This story by Yu.T. showed it to me at the beginning of our acquaintance. He makes a rather depressing impression and Barbusse, with this side of whose work I was not familiar, surprised me.

Yu.T. she said that this was her favorite work.

So, after I left, a few days later she wrote that she would no longer date because “I found myself a man.”

Perhaps she was afraid of reproaches, scandal or something else, but I congratulated her with all my heart and wished her happiness in a good way.

And we parted. I deleted my phone number and she deleted her email address. There are only two videos left, recorded for a foot fetishist and memories. The end.

The beginning

Whatever happens is for the better. A few months later I met my future wife and, a year later, we got married. A new chapter of life has begun.


(there will be no continuation - the end)

[Frodo]

Well, the most interesting place is the end, somehow it’s not humane, we are all worried about the young man, and the most interesting place is the end, we demand a continuation

[Onism]

(there will be no continuation - the end)

But how to tell about your wife?

[Bulkin]

we demand continuation

But how to tell about your wife?

n Haha. No, this is the end.

[Hair shirt]

Ha ha. No, this is the end

Once upon a time, I read The Little Prince for the first time. This was at the best age for such a book - I was about twenty-five. And I remember that after reading it I was very impressed.
We are responsible for those we have tamed. Although I admit that someone, on the contrary, amuses their vanity that someone has become tamed like a dog. It’s like I’m not such a loser that someone even tames him, looks him in the eye, timidly asks - don’t you want to marry me!?

And I think here you can only refuse one thing case - if you are focused on making a career. And if you are extremely ambitious, you have a plan and you purposefully carry it out. And you already have success in this direction, and you seem to be more or less succeeding. Well then, yes, then you can just say that I’m sorry, Manya, but I can’t. You must first do what you wanted.

Or let him choose the path of the wife of a genius. That is, living with you without any plans for the future. I read it like that of Stephen King and this one, like his. Well, who wrote One Hundred Days of Solitude.
He actually told his woman that until I write a novel, I’m not here at all. And she waited. About a year, it seems, or even more. That is, he neither brought money into the house nor hammered nails. Well, I don’t know about fucking, history is silent.

So I think that all this is not good. It turns out that you took it out on a woman for this jerking off in your adolescence and youth. Like I’m not such a sucker that someone appreciated me and even asked me to marry.
I think initially all young girls want love, affection, loyalty and friendship from men. And they get shit on a stick. And then they become embittered and begin to give or not give. Like - fuck you all!
That’s what everyone wants to do, to take advantage of you, both literally and figuratively.