How Lenka Went to the Bathhouse

I can't stay silent. My beloved wife sometimes says things that make you want to either stand your ground or fall over. Besides what I already know or have learned, she recalls interesting stories from our life together before we were married, or from the early years of our marriage. It's time to call this series of stories not "Oh, Lenka!" but "Ah, Lenka!" or even "What the f***, Lenka!!" She probably has stories stocked up until the end of our married life and doles them out to me in doses when there's a sexual lull. I heard her story yesterday, 21.08.05 at 23:20.

Once, several years ago, when we weren't married yet, we went to the bathhouse in the village with my best friend Max and my future wife.

Lenka

doesn't really like the heat, so while the bathhouse was heating up, she wanted to wash quickly. Max went to chop more firewood.

I washed Lenochka, gave her a light steam with the not-yet-intense heat. She grabbed my cock and tried to basically rape me, but I wasn't ready for it or something, my mood wasn't there, in short, she didn't get what she wanted. It must be said that while we were in the village that week, the fresh air affected my potency so much that we simply couldn't get out of bed, bushes, the car, the water, the hayloft. My friend understood everything, got bored, went fishing, left us alone. You could see he wanted it. And when we were going to steam, he whispered to me:

 — Go with Lenka first, then steam me and leave me alone, I'll "clear the chamber," I've seen enough of you two.

After washing, Lenka wrapped herself in a sheet and went out through the anteroom to the veranda where there was a table, a small sofa, and a couple of chairs.

On the table lay simple food, and in a bucket with well water, bottles of beer were splashing. Lenka took out a bottle.

 — Maybe you should get dressed? — At that time, I was jealous of her and tried to guard her honor and decency.

 — This is nature, you should be closer to it.

I took a sip of beer and went to steam, where Max already was. He lay down on the shelf, sort of on his side. I managed to notice his rock-hard cock. While I was beating him with the birch broom, his erection subsided, we had abstract conversations and didn't touch on hot topics. After the steam, we went out to get some fresh air and life-giving moisture. My wife was sitting on the veranda in a sheet, sipping beer. By the time we came out, there was less beer, and Lenka was drunker. I didn't wrap myself in a towel, not wanting to get it wet. And Max wrapped himself in his, up to his waist, presenting his muscular torso for our viewing. So we sat: me with a drooping cock, Lenka in a sheet that got wet and showed her nipples on her small breasts. Max averted his eyes and placed his mug of beer not on the table but on his knees, covering his bulge.

 — Listen, I think we might run out of beer.

 — Finish washing up, and I'll go get some, you'll get lost. Just keep an eye on Lenka, she seems overheated. City folks don't go to bathhouses.

 — Oh, oh! As if you're a villager yourself. — Lenka was feeling loose from the unfamiliarity and heat.

I pulled on my shorts, got on the bike, and rode off. I returned, everything was orderly, no changes. And only 18 years later did I learn from my wife what happened there at that time.

When Max went to steam, he was gone for about five minutes. Lenka felt unwell and stood up, her head spun, and she grabbed the handle to the anteroom and, crying out, began to fall to the floor; from this, the door opened and Max saw Lenka sinking to the floor. At first, he wanted to cover himself, but seeing that she was about to hit her head on the boards, he jumped over in his birthday suit. Lenka grasped the whole situation and pretended to have lost consciousness. Max picked her up like a feather in his powerful arms but almost lost his balance because he stepped on the sheet wrapped around the unconscious body. Knocking over chairs along the way. The sheet slipped off, and Lenka appeared before him in all her glory. His cock shot up. Trying to sit her on the sofa, she slipped and landed with her ass on the floor. Max stood right in front of her. Pretending to have regained consciousness, she saw a cock in front of her face that didn't even twitch from the tension.

 — Len, sorry, you screamed — Max tried to justify himself, covering his cock and backing up, he bumped into the chairs.

 — Oh, you bastard. You wanted to use me while I was unconscious — Lenka squatted down.

 — Lenochka, damn it — Max babbled on.

 — Well, since you tried, you won't get another chance. — She grabbed his firm buttocks and pulled him toward her.

Taking his cock in her mouth, she began to suck. Max stood, not knowing what to do; at first, he tried to pull away, but then, grabbing her by the hair, he started pounding her mouth. Max was a rough person in sex; from his stories, I understood he achieved everything by force. And now, taking her by the back of the head with his hand, he started jerking and didn't react to Lenka's attempts to move away. Growling, he came in her mouth. Lenka began to choke. And only after she started hitting his steel abs did he come to his senses and let her go.

 — Are you crazy? — Semen flowed from Lenochka's mouth onto her breast. Tears welled up in her eyes. She didn't know what to do, rinse her mouth or breathe. She started coughing, and gag reflexes appeared. Max quickly poured beer and downed it into her mouth in one gulp. The foamy drink mixed with his juice and flowed into her stomach and down her chin.

Lenka rushed into the anteroom and began washing her face from the ladle, leaning over the basin. She wanted sex, and she would get it. Without thinking long, Max bent her over doggy-style against the wall with her head, so that her own breasts were in front of her nose, and his not-yet-firm cock began penetrating her wet pussy.

 — My neck!! — She hissed, but only her shoulders were against the wall now, and her head was pressed to her chest. Lenochka hadn't had sex like this since she was raped. No one had treated her so roughly. She tried to brace with her hands and push away from the wall, but the powerful thrusts of the fucking monster drove her more and more into the wall. With a sharp jerk, Max turned her over, sat on the bench, and impaled her on his cock, facing him. Her lips, not having time to swallow air, sank into his. She didn't control the movements; her friend did everything, as if lifting some barbell. He impaled her with such force that he opened her cervix with the head of his cock. Throwing Lenka off himself, he put her on her knees and inserted it into her mouth.

 — Come on, again, I liked it. — Now my dear beloved herself gave a good blowjob to my best friend, whom I had entrusted with my fiancée.

My friend disappeared about 5 years ago, and I don't have the chance to ask him again. That's how faithful fiancées are.

Author's e-mail: kоlym79@mаil.ru