Friend for Perversions — 4

Before reading, I recommend checking out the previous parts (search for Alisskai)

***

About 10 days had passed since the incident at the market. Kostya and I hadn't seen each other, only called and texted. We didn't discuss what had happened, but in the evenings we continued playing the game "get your comrade off."

In the evening at home, I decided to relax. I took a shower and, sprawling on the bed, wanted to experience that wonderful feeling of intense stretching again. I started playing with my pussy with my fingers, gradually moistening it and sinking my fingers, and then my whole hand, deeper and deeper. After getting off, I realized it wasn't enough.

I walked around the house naked and

looked for something else to satisfy myself with. I didn't want a regular dildo, I wanted something more interesting. For some reason, I opened the fridge. My gaze fell on a bottle of lemonade. Sizing it up, I squinted slyly in anticipation and rushed to the bathroom to wash the bottle.

Putting one foot on the edge of the bathtub, I set about satisfying myself with the new toy. It was cold and gave incredible sensations. Thrusting it into myself broadly, I felt an orgasm approaching, when suddenly the doorbell rang.

"Holy shit, who the hell is here at this hour."

Instead of putting my love tool aside, I shoved it deeper and threw on a robe.

Kostya was standing at the doorstep and, judging by his look, was upset about something. He jingled bottles in a bag.

"Come in. Did something happen?"

"Yeah, just a shitty day. Sorry it's late."

"Don't worry about it."

I led him to the kitchen and quickly put some simple snacks on the table.

We started drinking beer and talking. The bottle kept trying to slip out, and I squirmed, trying to push it back in. Kostya noticed.

"What's up with you?"

"Nothing much."

He was clearly intrigued.

"Come on, cheer me up," he pleaded.

I climbed onto the table right in front of his face, opening my robe, and showed him what I had there. He grinned contentedly and started stroking his cock through his pants.

"Tell me something," he asked, pulling out his dick and getting ready to jerk off properly. I took out the bottle so it wouldn't distract me, but stayed sitting, giving Kostya a nice view of my wet, stretched slit, and began my story.

***

After that wild incident with the neighbor at the dacha and his friends, I couldn't settle down. With each day, I understood more strongly that I wanted a continuation. I was terribly ashamed of these thoughts, and I shuddered imagining what the First and his crew would say if I hinted ambiguously at a repeat.

After agonizing for a few more days, I gathered my courage and went to the dacha. I needed to check on the dacha house anyway.

When I arrived, I was already shaking. I looked around every second, walking to the dacha house, simultaneously wanting and fearing to see the First. No one.

I brought my things into the house, went out to the yard, and walked around, checking if anyone had stolen the tools or broken the bushes. Periodically, such a wave of trembling would come over me that I had to stop.

My panties were soaked. I squatted on the garden path, trying to pull myself together. My hazy gaze fell on a pile of garden tools, and for some reason I imagined the First or one of his buddies shoving a shovel handle into me. Ugh. What am I even?

Gathering my willpower, I got up and went into the house. I lay flat on the sofa, trying to calm down and collect my thoughts. An idea struck me, and grabbing a towel, I rushed to the outdoor shower. There, under the streams of sun-warmed water, I came to my senses a bit and relaxed.

I came out and for some reason didn't get dressed, just covered myself with the towel in front, holding it to my chest. I headed to the house and suddenly heard a rustling in the bushes. My vision darkened and I, trembling with horror, dashed into the house.

I looked out the window and laughed with wild relief. Behind the mesh fence, hiding in the bushes, stood the neighbor's boy. He was about 18, but for his age he was scrawny and pimply, probably still a virgin. Waiting for him to finish his dirty business and leave, I put on underwear, shorts, and a t-shirt and decided to go to the store. I hadn't brought any food with me.

Already on my way out, I suddenly, obeying some impulse, went back into the house and took off my underwear, putting on shorts and a thin t-shirt on my bare body. Throwing a small bag with keys and wallet over my shoulder, I went out.

The First's house was two houses away from ours. Their house was small but equipped for permanent living—amenities, water, heating, unlike most simple dacha birdhouses. There were only a few such houses with permanent residents in our area. He lived there with his elderly parents and did nothing—drank beer and roamed around the settlement, sometimes roaring around in his "ten" car to hookah rap.

I cautiously stuck my head out the gate and looked around the street. No one was in sight. I trudged to the store in the heat. Damn, I should have gone later. But anyway, the street was beautiful, all green and flowery, it was a dacha area after all, and I moved from one patch of shade to another, occasionally picking a berry here and there: a cherry, a raspberry, from branches peeking through the fences onto the road. I reached the store without incident and bought some "camping" food and something to drink.

On the way back, approaching closer to the First's house, I spotted a body in just shorts and bare feet on a bench near the gate. He was sprawled in the shade and sipping beer from a can. Damn.

I was seized by a spasm. I still had sunglasses on my head, which I frantically put on my face—maybe he wouldn't recognize me. From a distance, I saw he noticed me, as he turned his head my way and looked over my figure in thin summer clothes. Then he looked away. As I passed him, I wanted to slip by quickly and hide in my house, I was very scared. But for some reason, I turned my head towards him. He first squinted, looking at me through the blinding sun, then choked on his beer.

I suddenly noticed fear in his eyes. He jumped up, put on the flip-flops lying nearby, and ran up to me. I froze in a stupor.

"Hey, is that you... you? Are you alone here?" he stammered, rattling off.

I couldn't imagine a dumber situation. Sensing his fear, I became much more confident. I took a decisive step towards my house.

"Wait, hold on. So, you... did you report it somewhere? Please, don't," he babbled. "Want some money? I'll give you money. Well, like... oh, here, for moral damages. Me and the guys will chip in."

I was stunned. Apparently, it finally dawned on the idiot what he'd done.

No, well, he's obviously dumb. First, did he not think we'd meet again? Our dachas are two houses apart, hello.

Second, if I had filed a report, they'd have already knocked on his door. And now, where would I even report? There's no evidence left. Even a fool understands that.

Ooh... now I felt like I was in charge. Without that nasty sneer on his face, he even looked okay: a bit dumb-looking but cute face, athletic body. I remembered his cock. Mmm yeah...

A dull ache started in my lower abdomen. I thought about why I had even come here.

Giving him an icy look, lifting my glasses from my eyes, I walked proudly towards the house.

He hurried after me.

"Hey, so what, do we have a deal? Can we agree?"

"Yeah, I know your promises," I reminded him how he promised to let me go, and then I got fucked by a crowd.

"No, seriously, girl!"

"What girl am I to you?" He was about my age, maybe even a bit younger.

"Wait. What do you want?"

"For you to get turned out in prison, you punk," I blurted out in his own manner of speech.

He froze in horror, then ran after me again. I was already opening the gate.

"Listen, we went too far, you're beautiful, such an ass..." he rambled, "we couldn't hold back."

Then he paused for a second, moved closer, and whispered:

"You liked it too, you think I didn't see you cum? Well, maybe not at first, but then you did!" After blurting that out, he froze for a second and I noticed a wave of trembling go through his body. He stared at my nipples poking through the thin t-shirt and there was movement in his shorts. Judging by his absent look, he was remembering pictures from that night.

"Follow me," I said, and went into my house. I put down the bag of groceries and the next second the First appeared in the doorway.

"Come in," I commanded. He came in and closed the door.

I sat him on the sofa and started doing household chores: plugged the fridge into the socket, for which I crawled under the table, sticking my ass out in tight shorts, bent over for the groceries, showing off the neckline of my t-shirt, started putting them in the low fridge, squatting erotically, spreading my legs. Then, still in a squat, I sharply turned towards the quiet guy, giving him a view of the wet spot on my shorts, barely hiding my pussy lips.

Obviously, my guest was in shock, as he himself would probably put it. I looked at the bulge in his shorts and remembered how good it felt when he fucked me with his big cock in my pussy, unaccustomed to sex. That's exactly what I told him, crawling towards him on all fours.

He was in shock. I carefully took the beer can from his hand, which he was still holding, saying:

"You'll finish it later," and set it aside.

Slowly coming out of shock, he started grinning contentedly. I kept breaking him down, crawling to his feet and stroking his slender thighs:

"You're right," I whispered hoarsely. "I liked it. I want you to do whatever you want with me, that's why I came. I want to suck you off," I was already carried away, and looking into the First's eyes, I continued, "I want you to fuck me with your hand, to cum and piss on me, call me your whore."

I was beside myself with arousal, whispering all sorts of perversions that came to mind. Unable to stand it, I climbed on top of the guy and pulled out his already fully hard cock from his shorts, pressing my stomach against it, and started rubbing against him like a cat.

Finally, he came to his senses. His eyes lit up feverishly. He pushed me off and stood up, taking off his shorts. I started taking off my clothes, but he slapped my hands away and began tearing off the thin pieces of fabric barely covering my desire-swollen charms himself.

He sat on the sofa, seating me on top, and started greedily sucking and biting my breasts. I tried to sit on his lap, but he wouldn't let me.

"What, bitch, want cock? You have to earn it."

The guy sobered up for a second, pulled away from me, and asked worriedly:

"Really? You want it? This isn't a setup?"

"No," I whispered, "fuck me like a whore, stretch my holes!"

He relaxed and continued the game. He pushed me off onto the floor, saying:

"I haven't showered, need to wash my balls."

I rushed to lick his genitals. It was true, he hadn't, they were salty from sweat and smelled accordingly, but I didn't care.

Diligently sucking and licking his dick along with his scrotum, I inserted two fingers into myself. Very wet.

Soon he got bored, and the First put me on all fours on the sofa, came up from behind, and started slapping my ass and pussy. Not even slapping, but beating.

"Ooh, you're already dripping, slut!" he said happily.

The First positioned himself behind and started powerfully driving into me with wild thrusts, so much that I jerked forward and buried my face in the sofa. He roared and came inside me. Pulling out, he turned my face towards him and shoved it in my mouth for me to lick.

I looked at him with a hungry gaze, making it clear that this wasn't the end.

The First was clearly trying to think of something interesting.

"What, whore, not enough for you?"

"Yes, yes!"

"Show me how wide your holes are."

I sat on the sofa and spread my legs, using my fingers to spread my pussy. After letting him admire it, I turned around and spread my cheeks, showing my asshole.

"And what's this? Is this even a hole?" He clearly didn't like the narrowness of the opening. "Come on, stretch it."

I enthusiastically inserted one finger, then a second. Started fucking myself more actively and came.

He slapped my ass hard. I continued stretching the tight little hole with my fingers. The First came up to my face and put his limp cock in my mouth.

"Get it up."

I set to work, actively using my tongue. When the job was done, he sat on the sofa and ordered me to sit on him with my ass. I moistened the opening with my own wetness and with difficulty started lowering myself onto his shaft, sitting with my back to the guy. But arousal was stronger than me, and I stubbornly continued sinking onto the standing rod.

He grabbed me under my buttocks and started helping me, moving to meet me. I plopped down onto his stomach with a moan. Lifting me up, the First started actively pounding, and I just shook on him like a doll and moaned. Then he pushed me off so I fell to the floor, hitting my knees, and the guy continued fucking me in the ass. I felt him insert another finger there. I vividly remembered how he and the Eagle both inserted into my ass and fucked me. Mmm, another orgasm is coming. After a minute, we both came, I felt the pleasantly warm cum flowing inside me.

While the First was walking around the house waiting to recover his strength, I indulged in sweet memories of the Scar. To these exciting images, I started shoving my hand into my pussy. I remembered perfectly how fucking awesome it was when I managed to shove my whole hand in. Writhing and pushing my palm inside myself, I didn't see what the First was doing.

"Ooh, you insatiable bitch, good job, working well. That's enough for now."

I reluctantly opened my eyes and regretfully pulled out my hand.

While I was lost in fantasies, the First found a rope in the house. He fiddled with the coil for a few seconds and looked around, figuring