Trip to a comrade

I came to visit my friend. The one I studied with at the institute. Three years ago we graduated and scattered to different places. He was a local, and I came to study from another city. Then we didn't see each other for a year and a half, we talked on the phone and on Skype, even though we lived four hours apart. And a year ago I visited him. He had just met a girl named Nastya then, six years younger than him, who became his wife six months ago.

Nastya was a second-year student at the institute, having come from another city. I didn't ask how they met, and they didn't tell, maybe they considered it their personal story.

When I visited last time, they

lived separately. Igor lived in this two-room apartment, which he inherited from his grandmother, and she lived in the dormitory of her institute. She had just enrolled then.

Now she is twenty, and he, like me, is twenty-six.

Back then I talked with Nastya a few times, a cheerful, sociable girl, we got along.

And now she is his wife, living with him in his apartment.

Yesterday, when I arrived, we drank normally, sat around, reminisced about our student years. Nastya fussed about, refreshing plates, clearing something, putting something on the table. Then he sat her on his lap — stop fussing, sit with me —

Then we parted and I lay down in the small room, on the made-up sofa. The room was not big. There was a table by the sofa, and the sofa itself, for some reason, wasn't pushed all the way in, creating a gap between itself and the table. And there, in that gap, lay all sorts of junk and an ironing board, leaning against the wall.

In the morning, an alcoholic's sleep is very light, with a hangover I wanted water and sex. It was already light outside, it was May and quite a warm May.

Suddenly the door creaked quietly, light footsteps were heard — Sasha, are you sleeping? — I heard Nastya's whisper, but continued to lie with my eyes closed.

She quietly stepped onto the sofa, then walked, quietly stepping over my sides, stopped by my shoulders. Her legs barely touched my shoulders from both sides. I half-opened my eyes, she was standing right above my face.

She was wearing a semi-transparent robe, the flaps of which were simply flung open to the sides. She wasn't wearing panties, her legs and shaved pussy were streaked with semen. The lips of her bud were somewhat dark, and the hole itself was pink.

She lifted one leg, clearly reaching for something. On her pubic area was a tattoo in the shape of a pink heart pierced by a blue arrow. A drop dripped from her pussy onto my forehead.

— Something is dripping from you — I whispered.

She froze, hanging in a swallow pose.

I ran my finger over her pussy, smelled it — did you have sex? — I asked in the same whisper.

She sagged after I ran my finger over her pussy. Looked down at me from above — I need the ironing board — she whispered.

— So take it — I replied and began to stroke her clitoris with my finger.

— What are you doing? — she whispered.

— Spreading the drops so they don't drip — I whispered.

— It's not dripping from there — she whispered, slightly shuddering.

— Just in case

She stood, leaning back against the wall, shuddering from my touches. Probably she didn't get enough to cum with her husband. Then she started twitching and breathing rapidly and noisily through her nose. Then she moaned quietly with her mouth and stuffed her fist into her mouth, breathing through her nose.

— Enough, please enough — she whispered and sat down on my chest. I stroked her thighs, and she, closing her eyes, breathed through her mouth. Then she looked at me — well, you're a cheeky and impudent one — she whispered, shaking her head from side to side.

I stroked her thighs and smiled — what I am — I whispered.

— I need to get the board, to iron Igor's shirt — she said.

— So take it — I smirked.

She looked at me, glanced back at the door, quickly stood up and again climbed for the board. Presenting her beauty to my gaze. I stuck a finger into that beauty and held it there while she retrieved the board. She pulled out the ironing board, carried it over me, tucking it under her arm, with her other hand pulled my finger out of herself and, stepping over me, got down on the floor and left the room.

I closed my eyes, hoping to sleep some more. I wanted sex even more.

I must have dozed off, because through sleep I heard — Sasha, I need to put the board back. —

I smirked, without opening my eyes — as if she couldn't wait until I got up — I thought, but opened my eyes and whispered — so what's the problem? —

— No problem, not loudly, but no longer in a whisper, she answered and, taking the board under her arm, climbed onto the sofa and, stepping over me with one leg, began to shift the board to put it back.

She was wearing thin, white panties and the same robe. I reached out my hands, with one hand pulled the panties aside from below, and with the other began to caress her clitoris, run my finger over the dark lips, touching the pink hole of her vagina.

— Well, you're cheeky, what are you doing again? — she looked down at me from above.

— Foot massage — I replied.

— That's not feet

— Isn't it? Located between the legs, but is not a continuation? — I asked.

— No, it's not, it's a separate, independent part of the body

— And can I look at the independent part of the body? Such a beautiful picture is drawn there, Malevich is resting

I took Nastya by the shoulders, lifting myself up, tipped her to the side, laid her on her back and lay between her legs. With my hand I took my cock and, moving aside the strip of panties between her legs, inserted the head into the hole and, pressing, slid into her vagina up to half the shaft.

She widened her eyes and opened her mouth. I began to move my cock inside her, pushing it deeper.

Nastya squinted her eyes and moaned quietly with her mouth.

— Lift your legs — I asked.

She shook her head.

I began to thrust my cock into her, as much as the position allowed.

— lift them, lift them — I said, smiling.

She looked at me uncertainly and bent them at the knees, I moved deeper, working her over.

After a couple of seconds she was already throwing her legs up and holding them with her hands under the knees, moaning, thrusting up to meet me so I would fuck her deeper.

We came together. She exhaled strongly, with a moan and looking at me, trembled finely and whimpered, thinly like that. Feeling with her vagina every stream of semen pouring into her.

Catching her breath, she released her legs, put them on the sofa and straightened them.

— My legs went numb — she said — is it okay that I'm your friend's wife.

— Will you ask him about that? — I smiled.

— Cheeky — she shook her head.

— What I am — I smiled again.

— Come on, I'll feed you breakfast — she stroked my shoulders.

— Let's go — I answered, getting off her.

I was too lazy to brush my teeth and wash my face. I waited until Nastya, moving the strip of panties back into place, climbed over me and left, stretched, pulled my underwear back into place. Got up, looked out the window and went to the kitchen just in my underwear.

— Nastya was humming something, pouring boiling water into a mug with coffee, looked at me, smirked — boldly, walking around here in underwear. Will you have coffee with milk?

— No

— That's good, because there isn't any anyway, only condensed

— Don't even need sugar, why dilute sweetness with a pathetic parody — I smirked.

— What sweetness? — she was surprised.

— Well, you're sweet — I smiled.

She averted her gaze and remained silent.

I ate one cheese sandwich and drank coffee, Nastya stood behind, looking out the window.

I moved the cup and plate aside — thank you, hostess. Even poison is delicious from your hands. You have a beautiful little heart there —

She ran her hand over my head — you just wanted to look —

I pulled her and sat her on my lap — I'll look more when I have time —

— Don't, Sasha, I relaxed you and that's enough

I slipped my hand under the robe and kneaded her breast, she wasn't wearing a bra. Small but firm breasts I really liked. Nastya didn't pull away or remove my hand.

I lifted her, sitting her on the table, lifted her legs and Nastya lay back on the table. I licked at her panties, between her legs, with one hand moved the strip of panties aside, exposing her pussy and began to lick out. My semen was still in her, but I didn't care. I stood up, quickly pulled down my underwear, freeing my cock which was standing again and inserted it into Nastya's hole, all the way. Her legs lay on my shoulders. With her hands Nastya grabbed the edges of the table and moaned shaking her head, and I drove my dick into her, fast and deep.

And again we came together. When she came she squeezed my cock with her vagina, moaning protractedly and trembling all over.

When I pulled out of her, just holding her legs. She lowered her legs and, moving, sat on the table, adjusting her panties.

— Wow — she said with a sigh — cheated twice in half an hour, not counting when I was getting the board. But that was child's play compared to these.

— And who knows about it?

— Sasha, this is wrong. I'm married and should spread my legs for my husband

— So spread them, I don't mind. This is just your dream

— Some dream. On the sofa, then on the table. Not even a cup fell — she smirked, looking at the plate with sandwiches and the empty cup.

— Okay, I'll go take a shower — I said and went to the bathroom.

Turning off the water, finishing the procedure, I saw the door opening, Nastya entered with a towel — Take a clean one, she handed me the towel, not at all embarrassed that she entered a naked man and not her husband.

I reached out and took Nastya by the hand, pulled her to the bathtub and sucked her into my lips. She responded and I pulled her to me. She climbed into the bathtub and I, kissing her, put one of Nastya's legs on the edge of the bathtub, again moved the panties aside and with my hand pushed my cock into her.

Rocked my hips a few times, turned Nastya with her back to me, pressed on her back — come on, doggy style —

She hesitated, but bent over, spreading her legs and bracing her hands on the sides of the bathtub.

I rode her on my cock for quite a long time. The third time after all, and I still wanted sex more and more.

She came twice, the second time together with me. I again filled her hole with semen.

She sat in the bathtub, breathing heavily, turning to me, hugging her knees. The robe was wide open, held by the belt at the waist. Its flaps lay on the bottom of the bathtub. Semen was dripping from her pussy, getting on her panties and on the robe from below.

I took hold of my cock and a stream of urine poured onto Nastya, on her head, face, chest, robe, panties. She opened her mouth in horror and surprise and I directed the stream into her mouth. She swallowed from surprise, winced and began to shield herself from the stream with her hands.

— You ruined everything with this — she said dully, looking at herself, her panties and the robe under her.

— Sorry, I've been wanting to pee for a long time, otherwise my bladder would have burst

— Why did you do that, Sasha? — she asked with resentment.

— What's so bad about it? It's called golden shower. Nothing terrible happened. Wash yourself now and that's it. First rinse in the robe, wring it out and throw it in the washer, on quick wash and that's all

She looked at me, whether I was mocking her, but I was the picture of seriousness.

— You've never tried this, now you know what it is and how. You'll think it over today. Because today you'll be churning butter, thinking over everything that happened. Then, time will pass, you'll often remember and think that you were silly and didn't take advantage of this time. Then you'll already bore your husband, he'll plow you once or twice a week. You'll either sit on an imitator or on a lover's cock

— I'm already boring — she said bitterly — you today tripled his weekly plan

— Come from the institute, we can quintuple it — I said.

— We'll see. Go, if you're already done? — said Nastya. Wiping her face with her hand and smoothing her hair from her forehead to the back of her head so urine wouldn't drip from her hair onto her face.

I climbed out of the bathtub, wiped myself slightly with the towel, threw it on the washer, took my underwear and left, closing the door.

Sat in the kitchen and drank water from a bottle, waiting for Nastya to come out.

First the sound of water subsided, then the machine began to fill with water and rumbled, starting the wash. Then the door opened and naked Nastya came out, stood by the mirror, by the entrance door and began to dry her hair, blowing them with a hairdryer.

She had a beautiful figure and a sporty butt.

— Do you do any sports? I asked.

— What? — she asked, turning off the hairdryer.

I repeated the question.

— No, I run twice a week in the mornings — and turning on the hairdryer, continued drying her hair.

Finishing, she took the hairdryer to the bathroom, came to the kitchen, sat on my lap, hugging my shoulders.

— When the machine finishes washing, hang the robe and panties on the balcony, I'll iron it quickly later. It dries quickly.

— Okay — I replied.

— Are you planning to stay at home?

— Do