Ksyusha’s pussy was already wet thinking about Misha. Her husband Sergey was away on business again, and her friend Ksenia—Misha’s sister—knew everything. They’d whispered over coffee, Ksenia egging her on. “Live a little, girl. He’s got a thick cock, you know.”

The plan was Ksenia’s birthday party at her dacha. Rustic, private. Ksyusha arrived, nerves buzzing. She found Misha by the firepit, his eyes dark with hunger. He pulled her into a shadowy corner, his hands sliding under her dress, palming her ass. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he growled, fingers brushing her panties.

“We need a condom,” Ksyusha breathed, even as her hips rocked against his hand.

“I hate those fucking rubbers,” Misha muttered, his thumb circling her clit through the lace. “Feel how wet you are. I want that tight cunt raw.”

Later, inside the cozy guest room, Ksenia winked and slipped Ksyusha a box of contraceptive suppositories. “For safety, but trust me, bare is better.” Ksyusha’s cheeks burned, but her cunt throbbed.

Alone with Misha, she was naked on the bed. He stood over her, his dick hard and thick, veins pulsing. “Let me taste you first,” he said, spreading her legs. His tongue was rough and eager, lapping at her slit, sucking her swollen clit until she was shaking. “You taste like fucking honey,” he