Flashback
My name is Oksana and I am 34 years old. I would like to tell you a story about my best sex ever.
I started my sexual life at 18 and, to be honest, I had a whole bunch of partners. My reputation in the neighborhood was that of the local "easy lay." All it took was an invitation to a party, and after 5-10 drinks, I'd be spreading my legs for some guy, whether I knew him or not—it didn't matter. By 23, I settled down, stopped going to those kinds of gatherings, and realized that with such a reputation, I wouldn't be able to find a decent guy. I moved to another city in our region, got a job as a cashier at a local hypermarket, and there I met
my husband, Viktor. I won't say he was the pinnacle of my dreams, but he was a tolerable option. He loved to show off as if he were more than he really was—a braggart and a liar. Those who knew him for more than a couple of months quickly realized his tales of heroism were his own inventions. But I wasn't planning to marry for love, so I married him without any feelings, as he was quite capable of providing for a future family.In bed, he was the most ordinary, never showed anything special, and I was never free from a feeling of dissatisfaction. Except perhaps during pregnancy and after childbirth. I was lucky because even after giving birth, I managed to keep my slim figure, and my breasts didn't turn into saggy flaps but maintained a nice shape, a size 3.
When my son turned 18, I was 32. My husband and I sent him to a summer camp. A week later, we decided to go visit him. The day before the trip, my husband said he couldn't go because his childhood friend invited him fishing. By then, every word he said irritated me, and that was the norm. I was even a little glad to go without him—at least I'd get a break from his "showing off."
The camp was on the other shore, and to get there, we used a small ferry that took about 10 minutes. As soon as we docked, we were immediately surrounded by a crowd of kids, and I saw Kiryusha. He told me about how they all lived together, what they were learning at the camp, and said that for the parents' arrival, they had rehearsed a special show they would perform for us in the evening. I gave him the treats I had brought, and we went for a walk around the area.
Evening came, and it was time for the long-awaited show. It was a performance with elements of dance, gymnastics, and strength exercises. The girls did splits, the boys broke pre-sawn boards. The camp counselors also participated in the show, particularly one guy, 18 years old, who during the show tore off his tank top, exposing his muscular torso. He wasn't a bodybuilding aesthete, but the abs on his stomach were clearly visible, his biceps were firm, and you could see them tense when he performed a routine. I noticed sweat running down his neck all the way to his stomach and dripping into his pants. I felt aroused and couldn't take my eyes off him. I realized he noticed my attention; I felt awkward, but I kept glancing at him anyway. After the performance ended, we were supposed to sail back, but bad weather started, and a storm warning was announced. They told us they would accommodate us in a spare building until morning; the wind was supposed to die down, and we could go home, so we were safe here. And so as not to spoil the evening with bad weather, after the kids' lights-out, we decided to gather in the local dining hall to reminisce about our childhood and youth years. We set the tables, and someone found 4 bottles of wine. Sitting down, we started getting acquainted, talking, eating, and drinking. About 20 minutes after the gathering began, that same counselor walked in.
— Oh, here's Dimka, said the head counselor, Oleg Stepanovich.
Dima smiled silently, walked over, and sat down next to me. My breath caught, and a few moments later, I felt moisture in my panties. No one paid any attention to him sitting in that particular spot except me and him, and everyone continued talking. I drank a couple more glasses of wine, and a light buzz appeared in my head. Dima, however, didn't drink at all. Porn stories, thoughts wouldn't leave me about whether he would start taking any action—after all, he didn't just sit next to me for no reason. But nothing happened, and I, downing the remains of another glass in one gulp with a hand trembling from excitement, lightly stroked his knee. He continued sitting, not giving any sign. Then I started moving my palm higher and saw a bulge rising in his shorts. I placed my hand on his manhood; I could feel his cock was ready to tear those shorts apart, and because of that, my pussy started flowing like in my younger years. I leaned toward him and asked:
— Is there somewhere we can be alone here?
— Come with me, he replied.
He got up from the table and headed toward the exit. I waited a bit so as not to attract attention, although by then no one cared about us anymore, and followed him. He went into a small room that resembled a hut, and I entered after him. There was one unmade bed and a nightstand. The hut wasn't tall, and he could barely stand at full height, but I felt comfortable. I walked right up to him and grabbed his cock. He pressed into my lips with such passion and grabbed my breasts with both hands, first over my T-shirt, then slipping his hands under it. We kissed like animals, just licking and biting each other's lips. Then I got down on my knees and finally freed his cock, which was suffering in the tight shorts. When I saw it, it was a shock to me—it was so huge that even holding it with both hands, I could still see about 10 cm more of this tool. I brought my face to it, smelled that sweet scent, and greedily started pushing it into my mouth, swallowing as deep as I could.
My head was spinning from how it pressed against my throat—after all, I could swallow my husband's cock in one go. I started sucking his balls; they were big, as befits a real man, and I put them completely in my mouth. Then I looked up at him and saw a snarl of a real beast that had caught the scent of prey appear on his face. His lips bared his teeth, which were tightly clenched, and he started moving his hips on his own, fucking my mouth. I realized it was time, took off all my clothes, and lay on the bed. He pounced on top, pressed me down, and inserted his cock into my pussy, which was dripping with lubrication. I wrapped my arms around his back, touched his arms, and even reached for his balls—I wanted him more than anything in the world. In one motion, he flipped me onto my stomach and started fucking me from behind, massaging my clit with his finger. He fucked with all his strength and length, pulling his cock out to the very tip and driving it back in all the way to his balls, which slapped against my "girl." I came over and over from sex like this, and a few moments later, he pulled out his stallion and, with wild cries, covered my entire back and ass with his seed.
Yes, I felt that I belonged to him, and I liked it. But his dick wasn't about to go down; then I realized I wouldn't miss the chance to enjoy the taste of young cum. And I set about sucking his cock again. Anticipating how that warm stream would hit my palate and throat, I think I came once more. And then came the long-awaited moment. Growling like a wild beast again, his seed filled my entire mouth and overflowed; I greedily started swallowing this sweet nectar and then licked it off his dirtied cock. He lay on the bed, almost without catching his breath, and silently closed his eyes. And I spent the whole night kissing his cock as a sign of gratitude for what he gave me, with much greater passion than my husband's lips.