Letter to Suren

Hi. I was thinking, anyway, as soon as I log into ICQ, you'll write:

— Hi! How were you yesterday?" — And I'll say: "namano" or "so-so" and it won't mean anything, just empty words. Then you'll ask what happened before you guys arrived, then how the evening ended, and I'll have to tell you everything in little snippets, with lots of familiar, meaningless slang and emoticons. Better I'll write you an e-mail, and then our chat on ICQ will be very short:

— Hi. How were you yesterday?

— Hi! Check your mail, it's all there)))

It all started when my husband told me on Thursday evening that on Friday he had a

party with former colleagues, which translates to: "I'll come home late and be very drunk." I thought a free evening was coming up and it simply had to be spent usefully. To be honest, I spent the whole workday thinking about what I could get up to, but nothing came to mind. I was fluttering around the offices like a hummingbird, I hadn't been in such a rainbow mood for a long time! You see, I just felt good! For no particular reason. Happiness in its pure form! After work, I came home, turned on my laptop, got online — no one was around. My friend Roxana, you know her, was hanging out on ICQ. So she wrote to me that she was going to visit Lucy, had bought wine and shrimp and was standing there with bags waiting for her. Come over, she said.

The driver was familiar to me — not the first time he'd come for a pickup. A so-so guy: unshaven, fair-haired, the "ordinary redneck" type. But that didn't disappoint me, my mood was excellent! Less than halfway there, he ran out of gas and we had to wait, stopped in the middle of the road, while he ran to the gas station. But I was still smiling and in the same wonderful state of mind! As if I'd smoked some weed, honest to God.

Lucy met me, and I was inwardly stunned: she had gained so much weight this year! Puffy face, belly like a barrel, but also her chest — a confident 3rd size with aspirations for a 4th. Roxana, also not skinny, as you remember. So I felt like a beauty against their fat background, and I felt even better. The girls were drinking cheap wine from a 3-liter paper canister and mulled wine concocted from the same wine. Both drinks — disgusting crap. It's not like both girls are poor, but they buy powdered surrogate. But I had to drink, only after that, we went to take photos. Roxana had gotten pretty drunk even before I arrived, but she was the one playing the photographer for us.

Lucy and I dressed up in black and red lingerie: on me a corset, stockings, and panties, and on her instead of a corset a bustier, from which her full breasts were spilling out, we also put a little collar on her and gagged her mouth. We sat Lucy on the exercise bike and assigned roles: I was her Mistress, forcing her to exercise, and she pedaled, Roxana, accordingly, took photos. I pretended to whip her ass with a belt and gave commands, and Lucy pretended to pedal with all her might. I yelled at her: "Come on, bitch, work! Pedal! You've gotten so fat, cow!", and whipped her with the belt. I whipped her not painfully at all, her white skin didn't even turn red. The three of us laughed and frolicked, but if only you knew how much I liked it! A situation where you can jokingly whip a friend is exciting to the limit. Although I'm lying, not to the limit! I got turned on, but soon they got bored with that scene, and we switched roles. They put the collar on me, and gave Lucy the whip.

She spanked me a little while I sat on the exercise bike. I screamed from the blows so much that poor Roxana thought I was really in pain. And I imagined how she would whip me with full force, how I would flinch from every crack of the whip and beg for mercy, dreaming that it wouldn't end. In the photos, it looked very realistic. Then I knelt before Lucy and apologized to my Mistress for washing the dishes so poorly, begged her not to punish me anymore, promised to be a diligent maid from now on. Lucy held me by the crown of my head with a commanding hand, and I think she also got into the role. She looked at me like a real Mistress, she was ready to command and punish, she reveled in her power over me. If it weren't for Roxana, we would have continued, I'm sure!

That's when I got turned on to the limit. We've never played like that, I know, but this — is my favorite game. It's so hard to find a partner who enjoys power and knows how to use it. Doesn't matter, guy or girl. Oh, I got distracted!

After playing with the whip, we changed into pink and blue. Me in a childish style, in a pink cotton lingerie set and blue knee-highs, and Lucy in a pink transparent nightie with a black pattern on the chest. We struggled so hard to pull that nightie over her luxurious chest! But our efforts were not in vain: we got funny photos with a white plush teddy bear. We there — are just beauties. Innocent, dreamy girls. Against a pink background, it's also easy to fantasize. Luckily, Lucy's bed is 2 by 2 meters.

Then we drank more wine and put Lucy on all fours, with me behind her simulating thrusting. I got a bit carried away, started slapping her ass a little, urging her on, she responded to my movements, but Roxana with the camera ruined everything. She swapped our places, so now Lucy started to "have" me, grabbed me by the hair, then bent over and I heard her ragged breathing. I moaned, imagining that she was wearing my favorite strap-on, and that she was really having me. Roxana threw down her camera and shouted: "Girls, I can't take this with you! What are you doing! Stop it right now!". And Lucy and I were already kissing. Two girls in pink on a blue blanket, and we didn't give a damn what Roxana was shouting. We knew that she hadn't had sex for much longer than both of us. And it wasn't us, it was her, shouting that she wanted affection.

While I was on the bed licking Lucy's breasts, Roxana was pulling off her black sweater and pants. Her underwear also turned out to be black, but Lucy and I took it off, she didn't even have time to blink. Lucy held Roxana's hands, sitting on her, and I was licking her furry pussy. Nicely said "furry pussy," but in reality — a hairy mess! How is she not ashamed to show that jungle to guys? I remember how Genka said a few years ago that she goes unshaven. Genka was right, right... And again with my tongue, her, with my tongue. Around the hole, slightly inside, back to the clitoris, all clearly, precisely, well-tested. Well, how are you doing there, bitch, enjoying it?

Roxana started moaning and writhing, I touched her anus with my finger, wanted to check the reaction. She's completely inexperienced, inhibited, who knows how she would respond to such advances. But this young creature whined even louder, and I understood she didn't mind. Continuing to caress the very tip of her clitoris with the tip of my tongue, I stuck my thumb up her ass and started massaging in time with Lucy's movements. I was fingering Roxana's ass, licking her clitoris, and cursing everything in the world: why did I get involved with this fool? Stiff as Pinocchio. Lying there like a log and it seems like she's feeling good, and it seems like she's about to come any second, but she can't express it. Whines and trembles, as if from cold. Can't tell anything from her. Lucy seems to enjoy the process itself, she squeals, swears, but I'm bored, like at a May Day rally.

In such a situation, I have one tried-and-true trick, called: "Get Lucy going and you can sleep peacefully." I relocated between the girls, grabbed Lucy by the most exciting part of the body, that is, by her round, full, peasant tits and happily started kneading,

kissing and sucking all that extensive, appetizing stuff that came my way. 5 minutes of rapturous debauchery, and you can carefully turn the girls towards each other. I waited until they got carried away, and calmly slid off the bed to the kitchen to drink wine.

I'm standing by the sink, looking at the ladle and thinking how I would shove that white handle up that larva's ass. And the handle is just right: long, about as thick as a finger, and with a ball on the end, just like a walnut. And how I would move that ball back and forth, fast-fast, so she'd scream and struggle, the beast. And Lucy would hold her down with all her weight and laugh...

A quarter of an hour later, my tired solitude was interrupted by both beauties, now more or less dressed. Out of breath, but satisfied. And now they're already making noise, chattering, and each demanding something of her own.

Roxana is running around the rooms and shouting for Lucy to call Vasya, let him come over, and she'll laugh! Lucy replies that Vasya can't, that he's with his girlfriend, but Roxana doesn't care, she's drunk, flushed, and loud. Then the screams started: "I want a man!", and the like. Well, what were we supposed to do with her? We had to remember all the guys who might be interested in her, at least theoretically. Besides you, sunshine, no one came to our drunken minds. So Roxana called you. After that call, I wanted to kill her. She was putting on airs, pretending that you didn't interest her at all, that she was offended by you and so on, and so on, and so on... And as soon as she hung up, immediately: "Where can I find a guy, for intimate relations?" An undersexed bitch, that's all!

Then someone from our group called Lucy, Sasha. You won't believe it, nothing ever happened between us. With Lucy, I don't think so either... Well, Roxana is definitely out of his league. Lucy immediately told him — come over, and then after the fifth time, you agreed that you'd come with a friend. Anyway, that's how it all was before you showed up. I, to be honest, didn't really get a good look at your friend. Well, average height, well, not fat and okay, but the fact that he wasn't drinking put me on guard. Probably why I didn't really look at him. A stranger, a sober guy. Wouldn't even remember his face. And his name — I still can barely remember. Seryozha, I think?

You remember how you and your friend took Roxana home and, sitting in the car under my entrance, were deciding who would take me out "partying" further? You, him, or both? I was just in shock! I'm sitting in the back seat of the car trying to remember at least Seryozha's face, to somehow justify myself: I had already decided I wanted him. More precisely, I don't want to, but if I have to choose, then him. Why, on what basis, I have no idea! I just want him and that's it. And you're looking at me with your velvety brown eyes, waiting for me to choose one of you, or both.

And I don't like threesomes, very much. Especially after a drinking session, at 4 in the morning, when your whole body aches and asks for one thing: sweet, sound sleep. How I didn't want to say "no" to you, how I agonized, but selfishness prevailed. Why the hell should I please you, handsome, if I'm not really in the mood anyway. And with this little stud, I could try for variety.

I found out his name already at the motel, sitting on the bed after a shower. What my name is, he still doesn't know, if he hasn't asked you, of course. I want to describe what I felt when I saw him in just his underwear and realized it was inevitable. I can't say I wanted him. Well, yeah, not ugly, not a dwarf, not a fatso. A guy you can go to bed with without disgust, that's all. My whole body was screaming that it was against such violence against itself, that it wanted sleep, not sex, but I decided that what's done is done, and took off my dress.

I was afraid I'd see something thin, nasty in his pants, but nothing terrible happened. Very much my favorite format: average length, excellent width, and an appetizing, prominent head that just begs: "Caress me, suck me, shove me deeper!

I will spread your lips, slide back and forth and give you heavenly pleasure!". That gave me strength.

— Will you put it on yourself or should I?

— I'm bad at putting them on, sorry.

— Okay, — replied your buddy and started pulling on the rubber. That's when I saw three strange growths right under the head. Pinkish, like pimples, but not quite. Some crap, in short. I don't like any crap on dicks. At first I even thought it was a ball bearing under the skin, you know, like convicts do. Well, I thought, good thing you gave him a condom, or else the kid would have gotten a free ride.

I saw that the guy was tired, that he felt a bit awkward, and I tipped him onto his back so he wouldn't strain too much. Still, I couldn't resist and asked what that crap was, pointing at the sores with my finger. Calluses, he says. Calluses or not, long live condoms. Anyway, I sent the bad thoughts away and climbed on top of him and slowly rocked my hips, I even started to like it. I realized I was really turned on, looking into his brown eyes. How I love it when you can get lost in brown, yellow, black eyes, like stone, truly masculine. Or is it from the feeling of hard muscles under my hands? Or because his pretty face was so attentively following my movements? Or because after just a couple of minutes he grabbed my hips, and a spasm ran across his face: "Stop! Stop for a minute!" I impaled my body onto his shaft as deep as possible and froze. He jerked, whispered: "No, not like that, stop!"

But I know my business, and after half a minute we could continue. I came as soon as I started moving again, such joy spread through my whole body that, I think, I was smiling like an idiot. He noticed and smiled too. Why do I remember the smile, the look, but the sensation of the dick itself is kind of blurry. I remember it was good, but without details. Then he grabbed me again, trying to stretch out the time. Why? I only understood that it was important to him, that he was afraid of seeming too quick to me, and I didn't want it to last long. I wanted to come and I came, I wanted to see his face when he couldn't hold back, and not drag it out till dawn, just to maintain his self-confidence. After all, in sex we are all egoists. I wanted him to feel good only because it turned me on. How can I describe that childish delight when I finally brought him to the edge? Happiness, like from a hot air balloon ride. The whole world in his eyes, rolled back in ecstasy.

Just a couple of seconds, but it was precisely for them that I said "sorry" to you.

For some reason he wanted another round, but I saw that we'd both fall asleep any second, and asked to go home.

At home, my husband was sleeping, dead drunk. Dawn was breaking, I was exhausted to the limit, but happy with life and everything in the world. That's exactly why, I shook my husband awake and made him fuck me.

And you were asking how things were...

Author's e-mаil: vаr.bаr@mаil.ru