Writing essays has become more interesting.
Once, a classmate asked me to write an essay for her. Not that we had any friendly relationship or that I was particularly kind... I just did them for everyone. Not for free, obviously. But generally cheap. An essay is an essay, about five hours of work.
— You know, I really, really need this essay... — she says when I ask for payment.
— Logical. Otherwise, why would you have requested it? I'm actually in a hurry.
— Well, you understand...
— No.
— Well, I don't have any money right now...
— Listen, I told you how much it costs. 200 rubles isn't that much money. Ask your parents.
Or borrow from someone.— Please... Andrey... My parents definitely won't give me any... I'll pay you back...
— Uh-huh. You'll pay back. I used to be a nice guy, trusted everyone. Now, I think I'll start taking advances.
— ...
Damn, she even started crying. Does she take me for a fool? As if I don't know how easily girls can do that.
— No money? Then work it off. I don't mind.
— How?
— You know how.
— Oh, you! — look at that, the tears dried up. Didn't even take a second.
— ...
The silence started to drag on. But at least she calmed down. And she's looking at me somewhat offended. I wonder what will happen? However, I was far from the thought that Oksana would decide to pay with her own body. She'll be indignant for a bit and then give me the money. She's probably just haggling. What kind of girl like her wouldn't have a couple hundred rubles? Ha!
— Fine.
— Well, come on, what are you waiting for?
— Oh no, I'm definitely not doing it here!
— Uh... — am I going crazy, or does she mean to give herself to me here and now? Hmm... A leading question, — at your place?..
— ... my parents won't be home today. And don't forget the essay. After eight, okay?
— Ahem. Deal.
Well, holy crap! I can't believe my ears. And people talk about tender and romantic creatures after that. Maybe she likes me? Or is she just a slut? Doesn't seem like it. Neither one nor the other. Though, who can figure them out. I've never been to Tverskaya Street, have no idea what they look like.
But it's already eight. I was staring at the wall. Although the wallpaper pattern is pretty boring and gray. Hmm. Okay, gotta get ready. And somehow hide the boner. It'd be awkward in front of passersby.
— I'm going to my friends' dorm. Celebrating a birthday. Probably until tomorrow. — sadly, I still live with my parents. Though with relative freedom.
— Just don't drink until you see crocodiles. — yeah, they're liberal. Sometimes it's even strange how I turned out so shy. And I've never even fallen into a salad.
Why is everyone looking at me so strangely? My t-shirt is untucked, shouldn't be visible... Or is it just paranoia? Hmm... If I think soberly and put on glasses — seems like it was just my imagination. But the stupid grin still won't leave my face. Oh well.
Glancing sideways at the babushkas by the entrance, I hurriedly walked/ran up to the fifth floor. Oksana in a home robe — my god, this exceeded all my expectations! Her chestnut hair is loose from its usual ponytail and falls in a wonderfully thick mane over her shoulders, her big green eyes seem to sparkle, a slender hand carefully moves me aside and closes the door. With that flexible movement, the robe's "neckline" widens, shifting, and the gaze of a starved beast, bending remarkably flexibly, managed to glimpse not only a light spot where a bra was absent, but also a dark nipple atop a hillock that fit so perfectly into my palm... Slap! That was for my hand, which started acting on its own hentai will. But my head cleared a bit. At least I looked at the retreating offended back with a bit more comprehension.
Limited experience and three months of abstinence (even after porn) — yeah, I'm no macho man. But I'd still like not to embarrass myself. Say something smart...
— Well, you uh... It's all the same anyway... Well... uh...
— Take off your shoes if you don't want to wash the floors later, — and the door closes right in front of my nose. So much for that. Could go straight into the Book of Great Sayings. At least I didn't get hit on the forehead — the door looks pretty sturdy...
After a pause, hesitating, I stick my head inside. The robe is hanging on the back of a chair, but the heroine of the story herself isn't visible. I blink. Oh, right... The bed. From there in the shadows — the light is off and only through a crack in the closed curtains a golden-red ray of the setting sun glimmers — green lights are staring at me. I've only seen those in cats before.
I enter, remember I need to close the door and undress. The first goes "perfectly." With the second, some problems arose, but after a few one-legged hopping exercises and pausing before the last item of clothing, I managed that task with honor. The boner isn't bothering me anymore. Go figure. Bowing my head, I look at "little brother." Still no signs of life. The young, healthy body sometimes pulls funny tricks. Need to fix this urgently. Otherwise, tonight I'll only face a big fiasco instead of a blissful night.
Already forgetting I need to be somewhat careful, I forcefully pressed her head and, crushing the firm, toned butt, started moving along the well-trodden path with all the speed I was capable of...
Grunting incoherently, I rolled off and plopped down next to her on the bed. Covered my eyes with my elbow and started meditating. I wasn't planning to satisfy her, I just got what was due for the essay. And anyway, I endured so much. Well, couldn't hold back, well, it happens, nothing you can do...
— Did you bring the essay? — the dryness of her voice would make the Sahara and Kalahari jealous. Oh, mama, how could I!
— In the bag, in the hallway, — the main thing is to radiate calm and confidence. I'll rest now and go for round two...
— I'll go wash up, — and the receding slap of bare feet.
Seems the trick didn't work... I'm a lousy actor. A sex giant — even more so. Judging by the tone, I'll only get a continuation tomorrow, and even then — exclusively in mocking whispers in corners. Now I'll have a new nickname. Something like "machine gunner" based on that dumb American teen comedy! Damn, couldn't I have controlled myself, done some petting, satisfied her with my hand or tongue...
Such self-flagellation could have continued for quite a while if not for a tickling touch in the groin area and an unusually gentle, soft ring enveloping my already quite shriveled little trunk... Moving my elbow aside and opening one eye, I beheld what definitely wasn't on today's schedule. A weak desk lamp (and when was it turned on?...) illuminated Oksana's cute and terribly arousing face with a cock (my cock!) in her mouth.
Apparently sensing something, she raised her eyes and, meeting my puzzled gaze, released the prey. For a few seconds we didn't move, but then she smiled and, playfully winking, licked the tip of her tongue over the blood-filled hammer. Swinging, it hit her lips and, as if answering the invitation, Oksana lowered her head again. The soft ring went halfway a few times and pulled back. Tossing her hair to one side, this beauty smiled again, slowly, savoringly licked her lips, making them shine even more, and said:
— Watch closely, boy, you won't see this again anytime soon! — as if I was planning to miss such a sight! Though "boy" — that's a bit offensive. Well, what can I say — deserved it.
I wasn't given long to think. The soft movements of her tongue and lips resumed, making the massaged one jump. Her little tongue would circle around the head, then retreat, allowing her lips to swallow the bait, and return again. Without stopping, she enlisted the help of her hands. Careful strokes alternated with taps, painfully reminiscent of playing a flute. The only thing left in my consciousness — was that limb, from sixth becoming first, and the sensations from the touches. Suddenly, when I couldn't bear it anymore, the movements abruptly stopped. I raised my head in surprise. Oksana was kneeling between my legs, chin propped on her fist, intently looking at the erect penis. It even sagged a bit in confusion.
— I need to get pleasure too, you know, — her other hand was definitely working in her own area. And the attentiveness was strange — her voice changed from its usual quiet and soft to low, breathless, even slightly hoarse.
— Hey, no! Today, I'll be the one calling the shots! — with these words she moved her hand back and guided my rod into her dripping hole. Slowly, smoothly she flowed into a sitting position. Sitting for a bit, she began moving with a leisurely circular motion. Gradually speeding up, she worked her little bump and massaged her breasts at the same pace. Reaching the maximum, she stopped again and started again with the same circular motion. At first she only exhaled quietly, but the further it went, the louder her moans became. And now, to muffle her voice a bit, she moved her hand from the lust-heated pussy to her mouth. Watching the movements of her lips greedily sucking her fingers, I once again regretted not possessing, like the monsters in their anime, a pair of such necessary tentacles. It certainly wasn't fingers the girl riding my cock wanted to lick right now! All the movements of her flexible body screamed: "More! More!"
Accelerating to the limit, she, no longer restraining herself, cried out and threw herself back. My turn didn't keep me waiting long. What was still holding back the boiling volcano was shattered to pieces by the sight of Oksana at full height framed in the doorway.
Oksana, lying on me, stirred and turned towards Oksana-2:
— And... how long have you been... standing there?… — phrases came to her after the ride with some difficulty.
— Since your moans could be heard from the kitchen. You said we'd continue as usual after him.
— We... will continue, — she turned to me. — By the way, my name is Lena.
— Andrey, — blurted out of me. I probably looked pretty stupid from the side.
And Lena rose up and asked:
— Oksana, help me, — and held out her hand. Oksana stepped towards the bed and rather imprudently tried to help. Lena sharply pulled her onto herself and, pressing with a deep kiss, quickly untied the belt of the short robe. Underneath was revealed a copy of Lena, except for narrow light panties, through which even in the semi-darkness of the nightlight a neat triangle of hair was visible. Jerking uncertainly, the failed helper tried to pull away, but after the first unsuccessful attempt, gave up.
Playing with her sister's tongue (who else could they be to each other, damn it?!), Lena launched a mischievous hand into Oksana's panties. Rubbing there a bit, she broke away and said playfully:
— And we're already wet. And for a while, it seems, — after which she moved lower, to the breasts, and began tracing intricate figures with her tongue over the dark peak.
After about twenty figures, Oksana's breathing quickened and her eyes opened slightly. As if by silent agreement, Lena left the nipple and quickly descended, not forgetting, however, to make a couple of circles along the way. She pulled down the interfering panties and got down to "work" in earnest. Her sister, smoothly, without interrupting the action, moved onto the bed and, stretching, reciprocated with all the ardor of familial love. Her slightly upturned little nose, whether she wanted to or not, kept bumping into my base. And her tongue sometimes slipped onto the still not removed organ. Apparently, it still had some business left at this family celebration. Realizing this, it, though with some difficulty, began to rise. "Going for a record," I thought. I wonder, though, is this the last one? Otherwise, it's easy to overwork.
Somewhat uncomfortable sensations made me shift to a half-sitting position. This movement was met with slightly indignant lights from behind the thick hair covering the foreground, and a distant moan. I stopped, somewhat uncertain about further actions.
— Hey, sleepyhead, how long... oh... are you going to... oh... lie there? — Lena's voice with all the indescribable angry-playful intonations of a woman full of desire removed all uncertainty. Gently rocking, as much as my position allowed, I watched the girls. One's back, velvet-like and tanned, reflexively arching under, to my great regret, invisible caresses. The other's slender hands wandering over this great creation of nature... The darkness outside the window and the dim, slightly flickering lamp light, reminiscent of a candle, gave this view a kind of ancient shamanism. My incomplete education was clearly insufficient to describe the full beauty of this picture. How long would it take to get rid of this feeling and watch porn, even from the "famous" studio "Private," without nausea? I wanted to admire and admire...
But, apparently, the participants didn't agree with my opinion. Maybe because they didn't see it? Now I
understand people who like to film their exploits. I'd like to show the sisters this exciting image.
While I was pondering the vicissitudes of fate and the wonders of light and darkness, Lena again subjected the plot to her wonderfully depraved directorial talent. With one deft, technical move, she twisted out from under the twin looming over her and jumped off the "hook," planting in her place the head of Oksana, who hadn't had time to figure out what was happening. It dawned on the poor thing only after a couple of frictions. Indignant muffled sounds came from the stuffed mouth. Pretending not to hear this objection, the "rapist" only doubled her efforts, increasing the amplitude with each thrust. The unfortunate victim, having already given up, suddenly thrashed and moaned. Oh, I think she's going to throw up. Oh, that's not good. Need to...
— Swallow! Swallow, I'm telling you! Forgot how I taught you?! — Lena stopped for a few seconds, letting the poor thing come to her senses and follow the advice. And again pressed on the