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Whatever pretentious it may sound, this trip I will tell you about has dramatically changed me and my future. Having observed some of the stories here, I realized that I also have s

The trip that changed my life: Part 1

I'm an Interior Designer and I'm a store manager of a furniture shop...

Pleasant surprise at closing time

Having met that Mexican girl (she had a rather strange name, I called her “Ju” for short), we went on an excursion with other students. Then I first saw her younger sister, who look

The trip that changed my life: Part 2

It was a hot Sunday afternoon. The warm light of the July sun filtered through the curtains. She was in the kitchen cooking something when I came in. Looking from the doorway, I saw

The Hot Pie

For my lady, to express how I feel. Without fear to nothing. 

Recalling my ex-wife, I must say that she isn’t just beautiful, she's special. She had a superb physique as if carved from ivory, and she knew that. With a small posture of 5 ft, sh

My Slutty Ex And Nataly

To be frank, we have never exhibited a good example of mutual devotion and understanding with the wife. But never have I let her flirt easily with anyone, especially in our house. H

My Slutty Ex And Nataly, part 2

As I've mentioned on the site earlier, I'm into the import/export business — we're exporting commodities to some Eastern European countries, like Slovenia and Poland. Due to such bu

Christmas In Warsaw

I was tired of the same old things. Same people. Same nag nag nag. Hearing abouut the same damn problems. I need something different. And just like that i packed my bags paid up a c

Alive 

I love to tell stories, especially to my friends. One day, I gathered them at the local bar, The Lone Star Bar. I kept to myself for quite a long time, but it’s been killing me obvi

A bull rider and a rodeo clown

Whatever pretentious it may sound, this trip I will tell you about has dramatically changed me and my future. Having observed some of the stories here, I realized that I also have something to tell, at least how I remember it.&nbsp;

Many of the stories of such kind you find online are nothing more but pubertal fantasies of preoccupied teenagers with complexes, which you wouldn't want to read — here it’s different.

I don’t know if any of you find my story interesting, but it describes sex with three women in a single period of my life, which was the first time.

At that time, I dated a girl who wasn't my first girlfriend, but I was still totally inexperienced. She was older and more experienced, so we had great sex together. However, just as girls fall in love with complete assholes, God knows why I was enchanted by her and couldn't resolve it.

Even though I hated myself for it, I couldn't get her out of my head. She did not conceal the fact that there were no genuine feelings for me. But I come from a rich family that has been collecting wealth for more than one generation, and honor and respect are essential for me.&nbsp;

This girl of mine — her name was Ginger, by the way — was greedy, and spoiled, and it's still unclear why she was so arrogant, given that she comes from a neighborhood miles away. Perhaps, I spotted and remembered her genuine self, not a trashy bitch that progressed in her every other day. And she was gorgeous. As for sex, we didn't just make love, we instead banged in such a way that knocked us out completely.&nbsp;

But she always made me enraged and criticized me, saying that sex was terrible — she liked to see my reaction, and besides, I tried better and better each new time.&nbsp;

She had a quirk about sex, and I used to ask myself if she was cheating on me. But there was no evidence of her possible betrayal, except that she wasn't fond of giving head, which was a tragedy because she did it so well that my eyes darkened. But she did demand cunnilingus from me regularly. For those unfamiliar with the term, I must admit that such relationships completely drained me emotionally. At that time, I was very young, and despite a little messy behavior, I was relatively lenient and very well-mannered and couldn't use my power for my benefit, putting that girl in place.

It all continued until I went to France for a 24-week program to improve my French. Of course, Ginger was not supposed to go with me. My parents generally treated her coldly but tolerated her because she was my choice. Besides, I didn’t communicate with her for several weeks after another quarrel and was happy to change the environment. I never visited foreign countries for business then, only on holidays with family and friends, so this trip was expected to be pretty wild. And it did change everything. I will directly move on to the pivotal part of my story to avoid wasting your time.

In France, I went to a language school with many people of different ages and nationalities. I mainly contacted Mexican and Spanish ladies. For some reason, I always found a common language with them. I also remember a beautiful French girl whose arrogant disposition immediately awoke the memories of my girlfriend, and I couldn't look at her anymore. I must admit I am against betrayals, so I didn't flirt with these Mexican women preferring a more secular way. Wasn’t it my good upbringing, simplicity, or intelligence that attracted them?

Nevertheless, they all were beautiful — I always liked brown-skinned women: each was slender, with brown eyes and long dark hair. And they were simple, cheerful, and accessible for communication. I felt very comfortable in their company. Finally, I got closer to one Mexican girl. The more we talked, the more I wanted her, which seemed mutual. But, my inborn modesty, along with the commitment back home (albeit crappy), set against the backdrop of exhaustion and lack of confidence, did not let me take the first step.

I wouldn't have bonked her if, one of the evenings after the beer with my new friends on my way back home, a short guy didn’t offer me a hooker. At home, I didn’t practice such a thing, and I mechanically refused. But there was alcohol in my blood, and I thought, what the hell, I could do it. In the States, I knew I wouldn't hire a prostitute, but since I was on the other side of the pond and this trip had given me so many new things, I needed to go even further. And I nodded to the man. He was either a Brazilian or a Portuguese. I also thought there was a variety of different nationalities there. Having heard that I came from the USA, the politically skilled driver began asking questions like who killed Kennedy and so, as if I was running the show. He also said French women are way too demanding, and I didn't deny that.

The girls looked attractive. I chose the dark blonde with large breasts. When we got into the room, she probably noticed my anxiety but said nothing. It instead forced her laughter, but she managed to suppress it and smiled kindly instead. It was clear she liked me.&nbsp;

We chatted a bit — she turned out to be from Bulgaria and married. I felt shocked and asked why she did all that — she was beautiful, charming, and not stupid. She laughed, saying something about money, probably what they all in the industry tell you, but I noticed that something clicked in her brain. Was I the first to ask?

However, we have begun the process of releasing my anxiety.&nbsp;

She gently pushed me onto the bed we were sitting on and sat down next to me. I started taking my pants off, and she groaned seeing me naked, then took the condom in her mouth and slowly put it on. Of course, I wasn't expecting to use a condom and grieved, but it turned out to be thin and enjoyable. I liked how Ginger did it with her mouth, but it differed much from a more professional approach.

I grabbed the girl by the hair and began to twist my fist. She took it in entirely and caressed it with her tongue while I took her head from both sides with my hands and began to gently but intensely push it. The girl had scratched my left nipple with her long nails before settling herself more comfortably.&nbsp;&nbsp;

After that, I sat on the edge of the bed while she sat right on me in a sort of monk’s pose, which was exactly how I liked it. I felt like heavens; we didn't kiss, though, but she caressed my ears and neck and had a very soft touch. She moaned, but I was sure she faked it and kindly asked her not to ruin everything. She smiled and said OK, and was silent since. But then I felt like a grave, and I asked her to continue moaning. However, when I was entirely in the process, I seized her tight ass and started lifting it up and down. She liked it, and this time her moan was for real, which made me even more aroused. Then I got up, grabbed her butt, and started lifting it up and down. The girl whined and clung to my pumped arms.

I felt her caressing them with pleasure, and then she hugged me so that her head was near my chest — she started biting me gently, with her hands scratching my back, shoulders, and triceps. When I got tired, I told her I wanted her from behind. I was tired of translating it into English, so she finally said, “Doggy style, yes?” She got on her four, then I slapped her ass, grasped her hair with my left hand, and pushed on her back with the right palm — that’s how we continued.&nbsp;

She was screaming out loud from time to time. And then I thought that I had never in my entire life been so confident during sex and that I'd buy a hooker who would be pleased with me! A guy who was startled with a permanently dissatisfied girlfriend…&nbsp;

Remembering Ginger, I got angry, which stimulated me even more, although it seemed impossible. I caught the girl by her breasts with both hands and pulled her back close to me. She once again squealed, moved her hips very tight, and getting squeezed in her, I finished.

I paid the girl, thanked her, and sent her off. Then, I took a shower, called a cab, and took myself off — the night was still young.

<b>Please comment if you would like the story to continue ;))</b>

I'm in my shop, it's almost closing time. I hear the door open and close, hear the lock click. From my position I can't see who is entering, there is a long dividing wall. Heels tumors on the floor are those of confident and decisive walking. I await with curiosity who will appear from behind that wall. And there she is, statuesque. Hair gathered in a high ponytail, large dark sunglasses, fiery red lipstick, black raincoat tied at the belt, shiny black high-heeled shoes. She looks at me seriously, she doesn't say anything. She presses the switch on the wall and the lights go out, only the abat-jours stay on, creating a warm atmosphere. I get up and go towards her with a smile, but she anticipates me, she approaches with a sure step, takes my face in her hands and kisses me with a passion never seen before, before I can even say a word. Her tongue works its way into my mouth as her quick fingers unbutton my shirt and her nails scratch my back. I embrace her tightly, but she resists a bit. She unbuttons my pants, then she crouches in front of me and, in one confident move, she drops both my pants and boxers in one fell swoop. She pulls the sunglasses over her head, as if she should better admire my penis which gets harder and harder in front of her face. She looks at him, just touches him with her hand, she approaches him, touches him with her lips, kisses him, licks him and then literally disappears into her mouth. I am in total ecstasy. I watch as she expertly gives me the best blowjob she has ever received. I throw the shirt on the sofa behind us. She keeps sucking, licking and kissing for a while. I don't know how long I will last. She then gets up, pushes me onto the sofa, looks at me, takes a step back, unties the belt knot of her raincoat, opens it and with a fluid movement slides it to the floor. The vision is pure spectacle: she is wearing only a smooth black silk underwear which enhances all her shapes. She gets on top of me. She moves the thong slightly to the side and with one hand guides my cock inside her pussy. She's already so wet she goes in like a hot knife through butter. She lets out a long moan of pleasure and starts rocking up and down. Her breasts jump right in front of my face. She takes my hands and places them on her butt as if I want to help her follow her movements. Then with his hand behind her back she takes off her bra and throws it on my desk: she ends up on my laptop. She continues to move at a steady pace, placing her hands on the back of the sofa. She lightly touches her nipples with the tip of her tongue, before licking, sucking and biting them softly. Our moans begin to be heard. The fact that she's picking up the pace slightly, arching her back and tilting her head back, tells me that her orgasm is imminent. And here it is! Followed by a shaking of the legs and muscle twitching. She looks at me, slightly panting. Keeping her eyes locked on mine, she gets up and lies back on the sofa stripping off her thong, her head resting on her arm, one leg propped against the back of the sofa. A clear invitation that I take on the fly. I put my head between her legs and begin to passionately lick your perfectly shaved pussy with only a thin vertical line of hair. The taste of her orgasm is intoxicating. I feel a slight contraction of her muscles, soft moans and her breathing that becomes faster than her. Her fingers running through my hair, grabbing it when I touch the right spot with her tongue. Every now and then my tongue slides up to her asshole. And the way she grabs her hair I know she likes it. Meanwhile, with my hand, I play with one of her nipples. With my tongue after a while I slowly go up her whole body; the belly, the navel, the chest, the breast, the nipple, the neck of her to finish inside her her mouth. So I get up, and penetrate her again. This time it's her hands on my ass that dictate the pace... Now she wants it more intense than before. With each of my thrusts faster and faster, her eyes widen wider and her mouth opens slightly in pleasure from her, letting out soft moans. Our breaths get faster and faster. My pace increases. Her orgasm is near. Mine too. She comes before me, digging her nails into my back. I'm about to cum, she feels it, and she lets me out, to finish with her handjob. I cum and she directs the warm spurt of my cum onto her breasts. We are both sweaty but satisfied. She with one finger she takes some of my cum and tastes it. Then she gets up, puts on her thong and raincoat, she puts her glasses back on, kisses me softly on the lips and, without saying a word, just as she has arrived she leaves. I smile looking at her bra on my laptop ...

Having met that Mexican girl (she had a rather strange name, I called her “Ju” for short), we went on an excursion with other students. Then I first saw her younger sister, who looked between 18-20, while Ju was 26. I don't remember her name either — I have problems remembering names. The younger girl spoke no English but was very modest and even reserved. I liked her even better than Ju, but it was a challenge to communicate with her.

During the tour, I touched Ju’s hand several times and once caught her passionate gaze. And thanking the hooker’s time the other day, I quickly approached Ju, gently touched her firm ass, and put my hands on her waist. She just purred in satisfaction. We were staying at a distance, and no one saw how I snuggled up her and how my erection rested against her ass. She sighed, silently slipped her hand into my jeans, and started caressing me. It was only then that I realized how much I wanted her. Ju turned around, and we kissed passionately.

I wanted to put my hands under her T-shirt and fondle her huge boobs, but she refused to do that there. The way back was unbearably long. We rode on a bus together. Almost everyone was asleep, and Ju swung my coat over like a blanket and again began to touch me inside my trunks.

We kissed passionately several times, and without me asking, she bent down and covered her head with a coat. I felt her puffy lips and wet mouth and moaned silently. Damn, I love it! Suddenly, her muffled moans came from under the coat.&nbsp;

It was only then that I noticed her little sister spying on us! There was a blend of horror and some certain excitement in her eyes with what Ju was doing. I decided to keep it to myself. In the meantime, she activated the turbocharger: licked me all over, then swallowed me entirely — I was ready to bonk her right on that bus. When I was done, her little sister no longer looked at us, although I was sure she had been all this time. I couldn’t say for sure — I just didn’t have time to check up on her.

We wanted to go to my place, but the girl asked Ju something, which I wasn't happy with — I thought Ju would return and say they must go home. But Ju went back slowly and cryptically asked, “Well, so we're going?” To my surprise, her sister joined us. I didn't get anything and dared not to believe in such luck. However, when we got up, they took turns taking a shower, followed by me.

They sat on the sofa drinking my red wine when I got out of the shower. I was about to open my mouth and ask, but Ju stood up, put her finger on my lips, and I stopped. Then she hugged and kissed me. While kissing, she took off my pants and touched me.&nbsp;

Later, I felt a warm, moisturizing lotion dispersed below the belt. I interrupted kissing and looked down with surprise — it was Ju’s sister there! Ju chuckled mysteriously, and we continued kissing each other.&nbsp;

That was a crazy night. They were doing me simultaneously, and we tried all possible positions together. I finished five times; no idea about the girls, but they seemed happy with the things going on. It had been the best night of my entire life so far. I was afraid we would be dismissed because of the noise.&nbsp;

Upon returning home, I visited Ginger one evening. She was trying to nag me with her bitchy tone for some other empty reason, which she had a bunch of. But I shut her up politely — calmness symbolizes strength and power. Now I know it. She froze: “We are breaking up with you, rubbish,” was what she said. I said, “Tomorrow, but now take your panties off!”

Thank you for your comments. Read the second part )) -&nbsp;https://j4l.com/rbb/story/1112

The second part

It was a hot Sunday afternoon. The warm light of the July sun filtered through the curtains. She was in the kitchen cooking something when I came in. Looking from the doorway, I saw her in shorts and a white T-shirt with her wavering hair down and graciously moving to some Bossa Nova. I got stuck in a gaze reflecting every move she made, and I was quiet as a mouse.&nbsp;

She was standing with her back to the entrance so she didn't see me sneaking behind. I rapidly pulled her to me by her waist and eagerly kissed her neck, just below the ear. In a surprise, she screamed and knocked over a cup of flour on the table. A white cloud rose in the air. She touched my left cheek with a flour-stained thumb, and we merged in a greedy kiss. I pressed her against the table, put both hands on her ass, and squeezed her buttocks as dough.

“Well, now it's such a mess,” she said in mock frustration. We both laughed.

We had to put things in order and bake a cake together.&nbsp;

I went to the bath to wash the flour off my face. When I got back, she stood up, drinking water.

“Boo!” I shouted; her hand trembled, and a large part of the glass spilled onto her tee. It was enough to get the top of it wet. Cold water drops made her nipples grow evidently through the T-shirt. Some darker halos surrounded two small bumps.

“Ready to make up for it?” she asked.&nbsp;

To redeem my sins, I had to massage her back and legs.&nbsp;

We went to the dining room, and she took off her wet tee and threw it on the floor. Her hair was messed up, but she looked beautiful, half nude in just shorts, with swollen breasts and erect nipples and with her insidiously charming smile...

We are on the couch — it is larger than her old couch. It still smells brand new, and the leather does not stick to the skin and creaks funny when you sit on it. But I sat on top of her, transferring the weight to my legs not to put pressure on her spine.

I began stroking her shoulders, then neck, moved along the spine, kneading her waist, and stretching her butt. I kneaded her shoulders with the back of my hand, tapping along the spine. I noticed a smile touching her tender lips as she closed her eyes and started shivering. I moved my fingers from top to bottom along the waist muscles, descending lower and lower. I ran my fingers through the shorts between her sweet buns and touched her lips.

“Oooohhh…” I heard, and I squeezed them a little tighter. This went on for some time. With one hand stroking her back, I explored her clit with the fingers of the other. She was so wet already that my fingers groped down between the two halves of her pussy.

I grabbed her, pulled off her shorts, and sent them on the floor, followed by her lace panties.

She bit into my lips like a puma into prey. She firmly squeezed my ass, pulling me to her, and my wood was in between — hard, hot, and pulsing. I eagerly squeezed her boobs and pinched her nipples, twisting and tweaking them a little. Halos tightened even more, and nipples got harder.

I covered her body with kisses, and a flame of passion flowed through her entire body. Her hand wrapped around my penis, and she began stroking it slowly. Then she started caressing it with both hands, touching and rubbing me below the belly. I felt like the heavens. I started howling from pleasure and understanding how she liked it.

I put her on the back and went down the tailbone, licking her all over — her hips, knees, shins, and ankles. I was massaging her body from the toes to the buttocks, from the inner surface of her thighs up to her pussy — she started shivering uncontrollably again.&nbsp;

As I moved slowly up and down, the more breathtaking view was in front of my eyes. Some short fuzz covered her labia — a neat haircut, triangle pointing to the world of pleasures and delights. With a naughty look, she spread her pussy with two fingers. Like a burst of overripe peach, it oozed a few drops of sweet juice that smeared her lips and flowed further — she caressed the pearl with her fingertips and got inside.&nbsp;

I squeezed her boobies and tickled the nipples. Still, the cherry on the cake was how she looked at me — I felt dissipated under this gaze. And her smile… without it, her essence would be incomplete...

Finally, I tasted this sweet nectar of the gods, sticking to her vagina, trying to grasp it all and entirely. She grabbed my hair, pressing me harder, pushing the hips closer. I worked with my tongue like crazy: I went in and out, up and down, in circles, and touched her clit with the tip of it.&nbsp;

“Suck it, gently…” was what she asked. And I fulfilled her wish with great pleasure. Slightly squeezing her vaginal lips, I started sucking her juice. Her tits swelled up as melons.

She started breathing deeper and more frequently, and I felt her hips and pelvis tense up again. I speeded up like a rabbit! Another deep breath... Her entire body shuddered, her hips squeezed my head, and her fingers in my hair loosened their grip a little — this was the moment I thought she was ending...

I broke into her with some pressure, getting the tip of my penis inside her. A small moan of pleasure escaped her lips. Her stomach sent the impulse back to her brain. She tightened her thighs. With her legs resting on my shoulders, I grabbed her ass with both my hands and started to pierce her. I could feel her squeezing her muscles as she surrounded the head completely. I picked up the pace and started bonking her to the full length of my penis. A burst of juice was flowing down her inner hips.

“Take me from behind! Take me from behind…” she moaned.&nbsp;

I put her on her four, and with my hands tightly embracing her hips, I took her furiously from the back. I held her boobs with one hand and continued to bang her. I wasn’t afraid of feeling awkward and passed the finger through the buttocks, touching her asshole and slightly pressing on it. She pulled her arm between the legs and started masturbating, not breaking the rhythm.

She ended up again, froze in the post-anticipation moment and not taking her eyes off me. Her body was still flexing in orgasm as I filled her…

We fell down the sofa. All were sweating and breathing heavily.

“Well, yes. Not bad, not bad at all,” she was chuckling.

You asleep in my arms and look at you in silence.

Only if I could draw you, a scene from my dreams

Dreaming of your voice, when you say: "I love you"

I like to hug you, lose myself in your aroma. 

Being able to find heaven in your eyes. I like your laugh, I like your mouth. I like to believe that for me, you are crazy. 

How I want you to feel calm with me and when the night comes, take care of your soul. 

without your skin next to mine, loving your photography. 

We can send kisses with the wind, look at the moon at the same time count one more day just having you here. 

Dreaming of your voice, when you say: "I love you". 

Being able to find heaven in your eyes. I like your laugh, I like your mouth. 

I like to believe that for me, you are crazy.&nbsp; How I want you to feel, calm with me. And when the night comes, take care of your soul.&nbsp; And despite everything and without realizing. 

And when the night comes, take care of your soul. 

Recalling my ex-wife, I must say that she isn’t just beautiful, she's special. She had a superb physique as if carved from ivory, and she knew that. With a small posture of 5 ft, she had magnificent breasts, a full D cup, and a fantastic bouncy butt. And even pregnancy didn’t affect her much, as she didn’t change her wardrobe. She smoked, though, and once, she even mentioned that it preserved her beauty from dying prematurely.&nbsp;

But I decided to let it be as it may — I know she still has a fantastic look. I must also admire her charming smile, cat-like green eyes, and docile nature to get a complete picture. We met at the college, and I was her first; we got married soon.&nbsp;

Everything was very good with us from the beginning. Somehow, we immediately entered a family life and kept moving smoothly. Not much of a problem really troubled us back then. We even shared the same office floor, and all were aware of our “party” schedule.

We started a small but soon-to-be pretty profitable business with a partner. But after pregnancy, my ex completely plunged into a heap of things that had solely touched her and the baby. Motherhood is tough, and she turned out to be locked in four walls, and our sex life cooled off, which was the beginning of our split that I, of course, didn't know back then. She just didn't want sex, not that she wanted the attention of someone else's machine gun. At least, that was what I heard from her.

But I did fine. I had my good growing business, my friends, and, to be honest, my sins that not all had been mine — I have never been numb and still look fine, even for a 48 y.o.

No, I'm not talking about the fact that there was an abyss between us, but I didn't insist on intimacy. I wanted to let it go the way it should have for the common good.

But this single case changed a lot. There was a good old college friend of ours whose name was Nataly. The gal is one in a million with her astonishing beauty and sensual presence in each part of her body. Blond was nearly 6 feet tall, with devilish green eyes (resembling my ex's) and a tremendous slender figure — she was always in good shape, a typical homecoming queen, and, to my surprise, was still single. She had only one significant drawback, which I didn't know. But rumor has it that her specifics forced her libido insanely high, so she jumped on everything that moved. I did not escape that fate either.

And then, after several months of silence, my ex and I invited a bunch of our friends to our cozy country home that we had landed not long ago in Prescott, AZ. It was and still is a remarkable property, and somehow I managed to keep it.

It grasps a volume of spectacular descriptions, but I will give just a few words to describe it. It's a beautiful rural log estate with breathtaking forest views — the main house, guest house, and a detached garage with a loft. While the house's main room delivers the best views, the open space dining room with a patio is a perfect host for dinner parties, exactly where I met Nataly that day.

When I spotted her, I noticed how she's changed since late April, when we had gotten a bit crazy in the pool playing ball with kids. She wouldn't get prettier in any way, I thought to myself, but she did gain some extra pounds instead, yet with a healthy blush on her cheeks and a twinkle in her eyes. She used to come up alone, but this time seemed stuck to a guy named Greg. He turned out to be a good guy, groovy and cheerful, even though I didn't expect anyone with her.&nbsp;

Among others, there were a few company guys, our neighbors, Jack, a prolific dentist, with his wife, Sharon, and several married couples I didn't know.&nbsp;

Once again, looking back at that motley crew, I would single out Nataly as the most feminine and charming (beyond my wife). The way she presented herself, anything that she did was holding a bloom of dignity and grace only visible to a few like me, as I thought of myself back then. Words aren't enough to describe her magnetism — you either feel it or not.

Nataly was chirping something into Greg's ear while spreading her legs a little when she thought nobody was watching her, but I was while she paid me with a careless glimpse once in a while. At the same time, my then-wife and Nataly always used to chuckle stupidly looking at Greg. I still don't get what they both found in him — was it his wit, some artistry sophistication that I’m sure he faked but that pushed him over to their little grabby hands?

Nataly looked the only sober in the crowd, she seemed really into her companion, and I had to leave my idea of hitting on her. After a few dances, they got out of my sight. Fortunately, the house was huge, and I found a corner to seclude myself with a glass of whisky, totally devastated. But I wasn’t meant to enjoy myself for long, as after a while, I heard somebody climbing the stairs, some very cautious steps.

The door opened, and I saw Nataly alone, and I couldn’t believe my eyes that she was there looking for me (at least what I thought then). I mumbled something slapping a leather couch, and at that exact moment, I noticed her eyes wet. To my surprise, she was smiling when looking at me. She came closer in her stunning black dress, slumped down by me, staring at the floor, then put her head on my shoulder. I noticed she was hiccuping and offered her a sip of bottled water off the table. I didn’t insist on continuing as she was with a guy, and the night was still young. Nor was I worried about leaving my wife alone. But at that exact moment, I felt the tip of her tongue by my ear lobe and quivered. We tongue kissed as I groped her boobs through the atlas of her dress and pinched hard nipples with all my obsession. I mechanically tossed Nataly on the couch, but then I thought it wouldn’t become a proper contribution to preserve some degree of anonymity. So I put her on the table's edge, pulled up her dress, pulled off her panties of the same metal-black tone, and started slowly piercing her. To my great surprise, I felt nothing but moist, which made me insanely uncomfortable with her. There was no vacuum inside of her, and after a few moves of my big buddy, I thought of entering from the backdoor. I shoved my finger in her ass, but she offered to suck me instead. Gosh, she knew it would go that way; she was ready to switch the orifice so easily…

I remember that grace of hers when she stood on her knees, flipped her beautiful hair, straightened a dress, then gripped my cock tightly as if it was a meaty rope. She first opened her mouth and carefully moved towards the tip, tasting it with her tongue, tuning up the multitude of its receptors. With the idea of her sexual immaturity that was starting to become compulsive, I plunged the cock into her mouth, and she started moaning and nibbling it with her teeth, her eyes never drying off. My knob visited her tonsils, back and forth, sending a shudder through my entire body. My toes curled, her tits swelled, not as big as my wife’s, though, but catching the right moment is all determining! I pressed in slowly, stretching her lips until I cummed inside. She almost threw it all up on her stunning gown but somehow swallowed the remains.&nbsp;

I was in no hurry, calmly waiting for her to say a word, but she just vanished quietly. Since so many years passed, I’ve never heard from her again, and while struggling with grief, I think I did it all wrong with her…

When I got back, nobody was there on the patio, so I headed straight to the bar and poured some vodka, intending to check up on the wife. Suddenly, some very far voluptuous moans echoed in my ears, and I rationally took off towards that noise like a hound on a scent.

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To be frank, we have never exhibited a good example of mutual devotion and understanding with the wife. But never have I let her flirt easily with anyone, especially in our house. However, when I finally saw Greg ogling her breasts and heard her laugh, I was about to strangle that guy. My ex noticed me staring at them — although I have never been that brutal and bloody, her deadly gaze cooled me down.

Whatever you like, hon. I still remember her plump lips wrapped around my cock on one of those lazy mornings you don't have to get up early. And if she was not there leaning on some other guy, I would probably not recollect that then. But after the hook-up with Nataly, I was about to bang any female appearing on my way.&nbsp;

But my wife was still mine at that moment, and I knew she was trembling with her entire body when I stared at her. In my irresistible imagination, I was undressing her, helping get rid of her silk dress and the lace-string thong she didn't usually wear. I imagined kissing her huge boobs, ripping up what used to be a dress, stretching out her short legs, bending her over, tearing off her panties while hearing her favorite, “Yes, yes, I'm a whore, but I am your whore!” This sounds funny now.

Then my thick fingers would slip into her vagina, slightly massaging the clit, squeezing its juice. Unable to restrain herself, she would turn around, drop on her knees and undo me. Then, moisturizing the tip with her tongue, she starts licking the shaft, deepthroating as she used to — she’s fighting like hell. I saw my ex almost half swallowing my cock with rapture. Trying to force the ending, I put a hand on the back of her head and started pumping her mouth with my jizz. She physically couldn't swallow all of it, and the remnants running off her mouth stayed on her lips and poured onto her breasts.

I could no longer just sit and watch them having fun — I wanted her, my wife, lying on the table and polishing it with her delicious ass. I knew her lustful nature that made her sometimes throw her legs up in the air when my big guy was riding her rump. She used to grunt with each of my strokes, moving her butt to gratify me. She WANTED IT ALL. And I wanted her all the time.

No matter the buzz in my head, I went up to her bedroom and plopped into HER bed. I was drunk. What happened next was that I remember seeing my wife’s butt in the ceiling mirror, riding me like a pro, with her tits flopping around. Gosh, I thought it was a dream — she used me senselessly and loved it. I pulled on her tits and fingered her swollen clit with my right hand — she screamed in orgasm. She was clenching my cock like it was the end of the world, and it was her turn to cum.

At first, waking up and seeing her doing her business, I hardly recognized my crumpled face in the mirror. But after lying down for a bit, we switched, and I started drilling her with all my jealous enthusiasm. I could care less about what happened the day before or the same day — I still don’t know. Gently twisting her pink nipples, I pounded her vagina, her mouth, and her vagina and her mouth — until I got exhausted. I cummed all over her petite body — you don’t need much liquid to cover her up. Tears flowed from her eyes. But that was a mess — both gals went wet one after another.&nbsp;

Then, she quickly straightened her dress, wiped her breasts and lips with a napkin, and kissed me goodnight on the way out. We had never been hopelessly in love, but that adventure significantly postponed our divorce…

As I've mentioned on the site earlier, I'm into the import/export business — we're exporting commodities to some Eastern European countries, like Slovenia and Poland. Due to such business specifics, half of my time I spend in the air. I take my job as a tool to make ends meet, so I assume adding a touch of perfectionism to each endeavor is redundant. It'd be just a routine sales job if not for my current rank of a recently divorced guy in his prime with superb communication skills and an abundance of Eastern European beauty round the clock. Like God honors the creative realization of his divinity in seven days, I'm working on creating a memorable trip in a weekly timeframe with all my effort.

Last year, a week before Christmas Eve, my plane landed in Warsaw. I remember that day was wet, with a spectacular glow of the Sun only visible through the multiple holes spotting the heavy dark cloud pierced by sharp rays like a pincushion.

Before the trip, I had done all necessary to prepare myself for a week-long journey, even brought up a nice Christmas gift for a woman I’d met on a dating site, but who I wouldn't stake on sexually because of her seeming immaturity despite her age. I'd been blowing hot and cold about her ever since. There was another lady I knew from my other trips whose indecency I didn't care much for, even worse — I liked it, but whom I safely forgot about. But I had both their numbers, though.

Agata was 38, and she didn't make me hang on. She said she was with her nephew and niece outside the city and would return within a few hours. I knew she was away, and we agreed to meet when I was done with my stuff and ready to check up on each gridlock in the city. Having no idea about how serious she was, I knew that I wasn't and also knew she was worth a try, at least she could show me around.

Elza, on the contrary, was a personified nymph or even a siren, whatever you like, with all the corresponding values and drawbacks. My second phone call was even more successful, but instead of setting up a date, I stupidly lied that I was tired and everything, so she just wasn't happy with me. I felt that by the tone of her voice and promised a call tomorrow. She was a nice girl with a terrible accent, though, so I could hardly distinguish every second word of hers, and I still haven’t a clue about her exact age, by the way.

The next morning, after sorting out and sending a bunch of business emails, I had nothing to keep myself busy until the evening when I was supposed to see Agata. So, I went down to the fitness center. I do work out frequently, usually not during business trips, but this time I was free, and since I had nothing to do until evening, lifting weights was a good idea. But, as soon as I got in, I couldn't find myself in the mood to work out, and I headed to the shower. While in the locker room, I heard two guys pitching cheesy jokes about a room attendant lady. First, I did not pay any attention to that, but the more they aggravated, the more I yearned for the details. To be short — the lady was rumored to provide more private services for the residents, or these two were bluffing or playing tricks on guys like me or had been just obnoxious creeps. Anyway, I got her name and knew the exact floor she was assigned to. I wasn't expecting a cheap hook-up, nor was I anticipating a joyful free ride with a silly working girl, though, as I’d never done that with the ladies from room service, but I was more likely to look at her and just say hi.

I asked a floor man about Aneta — that was her name, yapping something about laundry, and to my surprise — I was in her hands. Within ten or fifteen minutes, I heard a careful knock on the door.

Regarding women, I hadn’t been suffering from exaggerated expectations ultimately left unmet, but particularly nothing more than just an aging woman in her prime, she was staying on my threshold in her grayish uniform and holding grace and truth together in her eyes and her smile. She was about 5 ft tall, with a tiny figure, with nothing special in her but her eyes. I had seen nothing like that pair of massive colorful explosions radiating anxiety and obedience, and I was 100% sure she wore lenses. But soon, upon a closer look, I had to give up my competence in female anatomy — her little swelling irises were real. My depraved essence was anticipating a nasty girl, but she didn't look like that. Instead, she was frightened, with all her fragile posture begging for my pardon, with pulsating small breasts that evoked my pity. I almost fell in love with her at first sight.

And I was numb — the story of my life. I could hardly pick up a word to say what I needed, so I just mumbled an apology, and when she was about to leave quietly, I brokenly muttered, asking her to share a meal with me, and that wasn’t supposed to be a date but rather a friendly talk between two people. At first, I thought she didn't understand what I was saying. Until then, I’d thought everybody spoke English, but she dramatically lacked vocabulary. But she nodded, which I concluded was her agreement to meet me up at the lobby, but she had to pick up something somewhere after her shift.&nbsp;

After a few drinks in the lobby bar, we took off for the restaurant in the same building. That night, no power in the entire universe could derail my locomotive of passion, but I don’t want to share the tactics here as I repeat — I wasn’t going to hook her up, and her enthusiasm for spending a night with a guy at work was zero. But I must assure you it wasn’t a money-wise tryst. Besides, we hardly understood one another without a translator.

However, after a nice meal with a bottle of wine, we somehow sneaked into my room, and the smile on her face was intriguing and a little amusing, which greatly pleased me. She surrendered, and she seemed happy with that. I watched her turn toward the window, with her eyes following rare snowflakes far below the windowsill. I approached her and started unbuttoning her little black dress with a few more buttons on her sharp spine left ahead when a slight shiver forced the dress to slide down the floor. Her angular, skinny naked shoulders caught my breath. I suddenly realized how hard her life was, with tons of obligations and family commitments, and that was even more frustrating as the burden she had to carry on her tiny shoulders tripled during the festive season as she was lucky (as she said) to get a job in the major hotel chain. Warsaw is a great Christmas getaway destination. I offered to take a bath that would help her relax for a moment.&nbsp;

In the bathroom, she quietly took off her cheap earrings, probably expecting some other reaction, but there was none except pure grief for her poverty. Watching my hands behind her back, I gradually liberated her breasts from the push-ups. But instinctively, she covered her chest with her hands, and this unintentional gesture flattered me. I took a deeper breath as my palms drifted over her pube to help get rid of her panties, pulling them down. For a moment, realizing she was standing all naked in front of a guy she had just met, she blushed intensively. I felt distraught because I’d embarrassed her.

I embraced her and kissed her neck, then the ear, then her spiky shoulder, smelled her hair, and felt her firm nipples under my fingers. She was wearing her beauty only, not a piece of cloth that divided us. I felt my heart giving a double beat with my penis rubbing her sacrum. When she turned on her toes to kiss me, her tiny butt reflected in the mirror, and I noticed a small patch of public curls above her vulva.&nbsp;

I left her alone and fell on a bed. I was napping when I felt a pleasing tickling chill of her wet hair tracing my stomach, following her lips on the way down the crotch. Her lips were dry, but this didn't bother goosebumps running through the skin. My stomach shivered, my feet shuddered, and my toes sought to tie a knot. I was holding both of her hands to eliminate her outrageous intention to pump out all my semen. She tickled the tip, moving her tongue back and forth along the stem, and tastefully licked my balls, gently biting the upper skin. I heard her loud groan, too loud, I thought — was she faking it?? Nope. I am sure she was sex hungry — no way I would believe she did it regularly to make a buck! I tried not to ejaculate in her mouth, pushing her head up and down, extending the moment. But she suddenly gagged and gulped down a large portion of juice. A bit of it splashed down her chin, and she swiped it back.

Afterward, I put on a condom and got her into a missionary position with her legs tied around me. She was so tiny that I bent over, trying to kiss her. After filling her up, we rested a little, and I let her lick my tool again, which Aneta liked because she whined and twirled like a bite on a hook. It hadn't been the blowjob of the year, though, but I'm sure I saw the best of her, as she probably did it rarely and subconsciously tried to outperform her previous self, who knows?&nbsp;

I then put her on my cock, she started tightening and relaxing her thighs, not practically moving her ass. Her eyes were shut, and I couldn't easily catch her glimpse — her eyes are what I still like the most about her. Getting a taste for the process, she began riding me like a well-bred stallion, hitting and spurring me from shoulders to hips with a full sweep of her limbs, which I didn’t expect from that fragile piece of work. She hadn't felt a man's touch for long. Well, we had good sex, we kissed and teased each other incessantly, and I even made a round trip in her mouth.&nbsp;

Despite the morning hour, I did her once again, this time finishing on her tiny boobs, and we fell asleep in a spoon position. I remember thinking about a sip of freshly squeezed orange juice and spending Christmas in Warsaw with Aneta.

I was tired of the same old things. Same people. Same nag nag nag. Hearing abouut the same damn problems. I need something different. And just like that i packed my bags paid up a couple months rent and bought a plain ticket to Kyiv and then train ticket to the port city Odessa.&nbsp;

Little did I know Id find someone who would change my life

When I arrived to Odessa I couldn’t get over how beautiful the city was. The buildings the women everything really. I felt alive for the first time in I don’t know how long. I could feel a unique energy in the air and knew that this place was something special.&nbsp;

The locals were kind to me and welcomed me with open arms. I explored the streets and markets, taking in all of the sights and sounds around me. Everywhere I went, it seemed like someone was trying to tell me something important, something that would one day change my life.&nbsp;

Then about three days in it happened. I ran right into her. Nearly knocked her over. I wasn't paying attention when I went out the door and she was standing on the other side of it fooling with a camera. Knocked it right out of her hands. It fell to pieces on the ground. I apologized feeling like a big awkward oaf.&nbsp;

But she was kind and soft spoken. She was drop dead gorgeous too long blonde hair and the bluest eyes Id ever seen. She kept saying its okay. Its okayyy.&nbsp;

But the camera was in pieces on the ground. And watching her try to pick it all up made me feel even worse. So I told her I would buy her a new one whatever she wanted. And the least I could do was take her out for some lunch. Plus I didnt want to leave her. Compared to me she was small with skin damn near porcelain.&nbsp;

So I said let me take you out for a coffee or something. Maybe a couple drinks. I motioned with my hand like I was throwing back a couple and she laughed and shook her head no.&nbsp;

Somehow we ended up in cafe type place tucked away in an alley off the main street. It had a cozy, old-world feel about it. We talked about my life, her hometown of Odessa, and our respective cultures. The conversation flowed easily and soon enough, we were talking like old friends.&nbsp;

Her enthusiasm for life was infectious. We stayed at the cafe for hours and ended up ordering dinner there as well. We talked late into the night, with me marveling at how she seemed to know all the answers to my questions. I felt my own energy start to rise as I told her more stories of my life and she listened with her head slightly tilted to one side, leaning in slightly as if she wanted to hear every word I said.&nbsp;

As the night went on, our conversation grew more and more intimate. We shared details about our lives, dreams, and passions as if we’’d known each other for years. She talked of her lifelong dream to travel the world, of the classes she wanted to take in London her love of language and art. I spoke of my own adventures sexual and otherwise and of my desire for something more.&nbsp;

The cafe slowly emptied out as we continued talking until it was just us left in the room. I could feel my self getting lost in her presence time seemed to stand still and I&nbsp; felt like I could talk to her forever.&nbsp;

Finally I suggested that we take a walk together around town. She agreed eagerly and soon enough we were strolling down streets lit up by street lamps that gave off a warm yellow glow. The sound of laughter from distant bars filled the air as other couples walked hand in hand down the street.&nbsp;

We stopped occasionally so she could point out favorite spots where she’d take photos. We talked about our hopes and fears and moments that had shaped us. Eventually, there was an understanding between us that this moment was something special something neither of us wanted to let go of just yet.&nbsp;

We continued to walk as if pulled along by some invisible force, lost in conversation, in each other's presence, and in the magic of the night. Eventually, we reached a small park tucked away at the edge of town where an old fountain tinkled softly in the background.&nbsp;

I cleared my throat and suggested that maybe it was time for us to take a break from walking. She nodded then stepped closer to me until our bodies were almost touching. She reached out her hand and gently touched my face. I closed my eyes and leaned into her touch&nbsp; feeling her warmth radiating through me.&nbsp;

I wrapped my arms around her waist and drew her close until I could feel her body pressing against mine. I ran my fingertips lightly up and down her back as she tilted her head upwards towards me her blue eyes shimmered like stars in the night sky. As I looked down her I new what was coming next without even having to ask.&nbsp;

I slipped one hand into hers and led her away from the fountain and towards an open grassy space beneath a tall tree. As we walked beneath its branches we seemed to be surrounded by a whole different atmosphere one of tense anticipation, excitement and tenderness all at once.&nbsp;

I laid out my jacket on the ground beneath the tree while she stood watching me with a smile on her lips. She closed the gap between us once again, this time wrapping both hands around my neck as she stared into me&nbsp; as if searching for something.&nbsp;

Without saying a word we both lay down on top of the jacket together too afraid and too overwhelmed by emotion to speak.&nbsp;

I felt the electricity between us. And I hoped I wouldnt mess something up. I kept thinking God I’m the luckiest man on earth. Our bodies moved together and fit perfectly I slipped them beneath her skirt and explored her curves.

She took her time on me. I thought I might explode. Her hands were like silk. With every gentle touch she drew me in deeper eventually there was nothing left but raw pleasure.

A mix of thrill and passion coursed through me from head to toe as our heart beats raced together reaching a climax.&nbsp;

Together we lay there breathless and on fire. I half expected to look up and see the sky fall but it didnt.I was a changed man after that at first for the better. Then I took a turn for the worse and threw it all away.&nbsp;

Ever woman Ive been with since then never measured up to her. She was the one. We spent a good few months together almost a year. I wont bore you with the details of how or when it all ended.&nbsp;

&nbsp;Lets just say it wasnt her fault. I held on to her too tight drank a little too much and wouldn’t let her live. Damn you live and learn I guess. I still look for her for time to time online. That was back before the internet rage. Her name was Lesya&nbsp;

But Im an old man now and I wish I could feel alive like that just one more time. Anyway I&nbsp; plan on it. Thanks for listening well reading and Lesya if you read this I hope you find me.

I love to tell stories, especially to my friends. One day, I gathered them at the local bar, The Lone Star Bar. I kept to myself for quite a long time, but it’s been killing me obviously. So I decided to share the story of how I met my ex-girlfriend. That was a while ago, and most of my friends didn’t even know about that part of my life. She was really special to me and I blew up everything. But not so fast, first things first.

"Alright y'all, listen up! I've got a doozy of a story to tell you about how I met my ex," I said with a grin.

"Hit us with it!" said one of my friends.

… Well, it all started at the annual rodeo in Fort Worth. I was trying to impress this pretty lady by showing off my bull riding skills. Little did I know, she was a rodeo clown.

They didn’t believe me and were still laughing - “You mean to tell us, you were trying to impress your ex-girlfriend by riding a bull and she was the one dressed up in a clown suit? I wanna meet her! Definitely, yeah!"

Oh yeah, that's right! And let me tell you, she was a darn good rodeo clown too. She had me in stitches the whole time I was trying to ride that bull.&nbsp;

Well, I finally got off that bull and went over to talk to her. And do you know what she said to me?

She said, 'Howdy cowboy! You ride bulls as well as you do clowns?' with her stunning southern drawl.

No kidding that was the beginning of the end for us! But wait, that’s not the end of us right now!

We’re still going strong and always looking for the next adventure.

One night next week, we decided to go on a date to try something new and spontaneous. We ended up at a mechanical bull riding competition at the local honky-tonk bar, The Rustic.

As we were cheering on the riders, my girlfriend said to me, "You know what, cowboy? I bet you can't ride this bull better than me."

I, being the competitive spirit that I am, took up the challenge. Well, you know me! I climbed onto the mechanical bull and held on tight.

My girlfriend, dressed in her rodeo clown outfit, was cheering me on with each spin and buck of the bull. The crowd was going wild as I held on for dear life, matching the rodeo clown move for move.

Just when it seemed like I was about to fall off, my girlfriend jumped onto the bull behind me, grabbed me around the waist, and started twirling me around.

The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter as we rode the mechanical bull together, performing stunts and making it look like a real rodeo show.

Especially the men in the crowd were in disbelief. They had never seen anything like it before.

Many of them were envious of my girlfriend's boldness and bravery, and some were even a bit intimidated by her impressive rodeo skills.

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