Four days of pleasure

I want to tell you about what happened between me and my girlfriend. Her name is Dasha. She looks absolutely stunning: she's a bit shorter than me (I'm 182 cm tall), with dark golden silky hair, hazel eyes, a cute upturned nose, full lips, and skin that's soft and velvety. Her figure deserves special attention—it's perfectly proportioned. Her breasts are quite neat, about a B-cup, each one like a large apple. She has very beautiful athletic legs, smooth healthy calves, and thighs that are neither thick nor skinny. Her butt is firm and pleasant to the touch. My Dasha's weight is also proportionally distributed

across her entire body—not an extra kilogram, and she doesn't need to gain any either. For me, Dasha is my ideal.

I met her in a somewhat unusual way. I was in 10th grade at the time, and she was in 9th. I remember that day clearly. Our class was on duty at school. I was standing in the hallway on the first floor. Back then, I didn't know Dasha. I had only seen her a couple of times. I liked something about her. One day, I noticed her classmates bullying her. They were trying to take her bag and were calling her all sorts of names. I didn't hesitate: I ran over to them and shouted:

— What's going on here? Why are you bothering her?

— We want to, so we are! We're just playing rough!

— They've been doing this to me for the second day now, — Dasha complained. — Do something!

— Step away from her immediately, at least twenty steps! What, isn't there anything interesting at school? Go eat in the cafeteria, at least! — I said through gritted teeth, barely holding back my anger.

Her classmates left, snorting in displeasure. I handed Dasha her bag.

— It's okay, don't worry, — I said. — Let them know that someone has your back now.

— Thank you, — she replied with a smile.

— What's your name?

— Dasha.

— Nice to meet you. I'm Danil. I'm in the 10th grade.

— I'm in the 9th. We have exams soon.

— Yeah, I understand. Are you studying? For which subjects?

— I struggle with math. But I'm preparing for computer science and history.

— You know, math isn't my strong suit either.

Then the bell rang for class.

— Well, bye, — I said to Dasha. — It was nice meeting you.

Dasha also said goodbye, smiling quietly at me.

That's how it all began. Dasha and I would hang out after school. I talked to her about various topics—Dasha turned out to be very knowledgeable, and we had a lot in common. We went to cafes, pizzerias, movies, and the park. I kissed Dasha passionately. Kissing your beloved girlfriend is indescribable. Our tongues touched, and I caressed Dasha's neck with gentle kisses.

Three years passed like that. Three years of happiness and mutual affection. By that time, I had finished my first year at university, and Dasha had graduated from school. I was happy to learn that Dasha would be applying to the same university where I study (though I was in law, and Dasha wanted to apply to the computer science department), which meant we would continue to be together. Then, after Dasha's graduation, it was her birthday—we celebrated it at home, but it was very fun. At Dasha's birthday, there were me, her girlfriends, and some of her former classmates. She was very happy that day—after all, it was the beginning of her adult life. But the most interesting part was yet to come.

In early July, my mom and grandmother, who were fanatically caring and showed manic overprotectiveness, went to another city for a week—to visit my grandmother's sister, whom they hadn't seen in a long time. I barely managed to convince them to let me stay home—I had other plans.

I wanted to invite Dasha over for a few days. All those days, I dreamed of having sex with her, so we could experience the fullness of our relationship. With my savings—five thousand rubles—I bought a sponge cake with cream roses, fruit, expensive French champagne, and equally expensive Italian wine, which took half of my savings.

The next morning, I decided to call Dasha. After a few rings, I heard her sweet voice:

— Danil?

— Yes. Hi, Dasha. Listen, I have some good news for you.

— What is it? — Dasha asked with interest.

— I'm inviting you over. The apartment is free for at least a week.

— Okay. I'll think about it and call you back. Wait.

After five minutes of agonizing waiting, I picked up the phone:

— Danil, I'll be there soon. In about an hour or two.

Yes! Yes! My heart rejoiced that everything worked out so well. It was generally easy for Dasha to go somewhere—for example, to a girls' night at her friends' place for two days, because Dasha's mom was often away at work in the office and didn't really forbid her daughter from having fun. As she said: "You can do whatever you want, but call your mom—I worry." And Dasha's older brother was somewhere in the Urals, serving as a sergeant.

I dressed in my best clothes. A black tuxedo, an ironed white shirt, a red bow tie—all to impress my beloved.

On the table were fruit, cake, and alcohol. Candles burned in ceramic gilded candlesticks. I sat there, breathless with anticipation for the doorbell, which didn't take long. Goosebumps ran down my arms. I opened the door, already knowing who was there, and was stunned.

Dasha stood on the threshold. So beautiful that I didn't even recognize her at first. She was wearing a burgundy evening dress that reached her knees. The makeup adorning Dasha's face was applied in a way no Milanese makeup artist could have done. Her curls were styled, and they gave off a pleasant scent—maybe strawberry or cherry, I couldn't tell. Her legs were clad in black velvet shoes. Flesh-colored tights tightly hugged her ankles.

— I'm happier to see you than ever, — I said, almost singing, — Come here.

— You, Danil, are also irresistible today, — Dasha whispered and stepped into the hallway.

I helped her take off her shoes. Then I took her hand and led her to the table.

— Danil, I don't even know what to say. How much did you spend on all this? — Dasha asked, her eyes sparkling as she looked at all the splendor on the table.

— It's nothing. Believe me, you're worth more, — I said.

After washing our hands, we finally started the meal: I managed to surprise Dasha with French-style potatoes with pork and cheese—thankfully, my mom's cookbook and my passion for cooking helped me with that. After that, we drank a glass of champagne.

— You know, — Dasha said to me, nibbling on a grape — I didn't expect such a reception.

— Everything is just for you, darling, — I replied, pouring myself more champagne.

Then we drank tea with cake and went into the room. I brought the wine and two glasses. We drank to our friendship. The wine lived up to its price: the perfect taste of Sicilian grapes. After drinking two more glasses each, we relaxed. The alcohol warmed us from the inside.

— Dasha, — I said. — I want to tell you something.

— What is it, my love?

— We should solidify our relationship. I think you can guess how.

— Fuck? I don't know.

— It would mean complete trust between us. You do love me, right?

— If that's the case, then I want you to put your dick inside me.

— So what are we waiting for?

We got up from the couch. With trembling hands, I unbuttoned Dasha's dress. It easily slipped off her young, beautiful body. I pulled off her tights, and Dasha was left in a black lace bra and black lace thong panties. In a surge of passion, I turned her back to me and spanked her butt.

— Danya, don't drag it out! Come on, let's go! — Dasha drawled languidly.

While Dasha stood with her back to me, I also undressed completely, took off Dasha's underwear, turned her toward me, and we were left naked. We stood there looking into each other's eyes. Everything in my head was a jumble. It was all so simple. My lips trembled as I looked at the naked Dasha, at her fresh breasts, soft belly, and what was below—the most intimate part, clean-shaven. My dick was rising. At first, I was a bit self-conscious about the size of my penis. But Dasha not only didn't say anything, but she crouched down and started sucking my dick. Just think: a blowjob from your beloved girlfriend is the pinnacle of a relationship! Dasha sucked and sucked, her full lips enveloping my penis and kissing the head.

— Now it's your turn, — Dasha said, wiping her lips and lying down on the couch.

I spread her legs and saw her tender and virgin vagina. I carefully inserted a finger to break the hymen. Dasha squeaked a little in surprise. I got worried:

— Dasha, are you okay?

— It's just me, not used to it, — Dasha chuckled.

I wiped away the blood with a pre-prepared wet wipe. When all the technicalities were taken care of, I licked her vagina. It was somewhat salty and pleasant at the same time. I licked her labia, clitoris, and pushed my tongue into the vaginal passage. Dasha moaned with pleasure:

— I, I want you! Danka, put it in me! My pussy craves your penis!

Fulfilling Dasha's wish, I inserted my penis into her vagina and started fucking her. Dasha obediently accepted every thrust. She was on cloud nine. Two lovers having sex—what could be better, especially with the song "Touch by Touch" by the group Joy playing on the computer, which I turned on before our fuck.

Toward the end of the song, Dasha began to feel an orgasm approaching. I could tell by her sweaty face and moans. Dasha came, and a few drops—the juice of passion—flowed from her vagina. After resting from the orgasm, Dasha went back to giving me a blowjob. I came on her face. The semen looked quite good on her. I took a photo of Dasha naked with semen on her face. Then she licked everything off her face and was satisfied with the taste of my cum. We continued our erotic photoshoot, taking about a hundred photos.

It was already evening. We sat naked on the couch. I stroked Dasha's head, occasionally leaning down to suck on her breasts.

— I don't want to leave you yet, — Dasha said. — You gave me the best day of my life.

— I'm glad you enjoyed it, Dashka, — I said. — Let's watch a movie.

We watched "Terminator 2" (a great movie, though a bit old) and then "SpongeBob SquarePants." There was a character there—Sandy Cheeks the squirrel. She's somewhat like Dasha—just as cheerful and charming. I asked Dasha if I could call her Sandy. Dasha agreed.

— And now, Sandy, let's go to sleep, — I said, yawning.

We went to bed without wearing any underwear. In fact, for all four days that Dasha was with me, we only wore underwear or were naked—it was our maximum trust in each other.

In the morning, I woke up and saw the sun rising, piercing the clouds with its rays. Dasha was lying on her stomach, still asleep. I got out of bed and kissed Dasha on the butt. She smiled in her sleep from that. Then she woke up, and we went to the kitchen to finish yesterday's cake.

I decided to suggest anal sex to Dasha. She was delighted, as she wanted to try it herself. I thought through our first time in the butt down to the smallest details. After going to the bathroom and washing her anus, Dasha got on her hands and knees, showing her beautiful hole. I lubricated her butt with strawberry-flavored lube and started carefully inserting a finger. Dasha liked it.

— My butt is sweet! Take it, — she said playfully.

Next, I increased the number of fingers to three. With three fingers easily entering her anus, I realized: I could insert my penis, which I did. At first, I moved smoothly, but later I started to speed up. I felt like the king of anal.

— Sandy! — I shouted to Dasha, slapping her butt cheeks — show me what you're capable of!

Dasha wanted to change positions. She wrapped her legs around my neck and lay down so I could fuck her. After twenty minutes of anal sex, which gave Dasha even greater pleasure, she started sucking me off.

— Your dick tastes like strawberry—the sweetest strawberry for me! — Dasha said, taking my dick out of her mouth. I ejaculated my semen into her mouth. After that, I performed anilingus on Dasha, licking the ring of her anus and biting her soft butt.

For two more days, we also had fun, enjoyed sex, played cards, ate, drank, watched TV—in short, we enjoyed life. When Dasha was going home, I decided to see her off: I took a taxi with her to her house. Then, of course, I had to return by bus, but I walked and was happy—I had fucked my beloved, sweet, and only Dasha.

A week later, when my mom and grandmother had already returned and everything was back to normal, Dasha called me. I asked her how she was doing. Dasha said she was fine. Her mother found out about our four wonderful days but took it in stride and even praised her daughter for gaining sexual experience.

— Maybe we should do it again, — Dasha asked me.

— I don't mind, but when?

— We'll discuss everything tomorrow, at the cafe.

— Agreed, — I replied.