Real Stories. On the Harm of Smoking.
This story happened on one winter evening when my friend and I went to visit a mutual acquaintance. The program included a liter bottle of cognac and, as usual, heartfelt conversation. We arrived quite late, it was just past ten, and after settling comfortably in the kitchen, we began. Igor's wife, the host, set a wonderful table, and over a leisurely conversation, we started our evening meal. I will deliberately skip the description of the evening until the moment when Olya, Igor's wife, said goodbye to us and went to the bedroom.
The clock hands were already confidently approaching midnight when the cognac ran out. But no one was in a hurry to leave,
and as often happens in such a situation, a "messenger" to the store for more was needed. My friend volunteered to solve this issue, and while he was getting dressed, Igor decided to walk with him and have a smoke as well.The sound of a key locking the front door echoed, and I was left alone. Knowing the distance to the night store, I realized I would have to wait about 15 minutes. I walked to the bathroom, and after coming out, I lingered a bit by the bedroom door. Now I don't remember how the thought came to me to enter it; maybe the alcohol pushed me to recklessness, but that night, I quietly opened the door a crack and stepped into the room. The room was dimly lit by a small aquarium standing near the large bed, where Olenka slept under a light blanket. She didn't hear me enter the room and was peacefully sleeping on her back, her head turned on the pillow. I didn't quite understand why I was there or what I wanted, because if she woke up, the scandal would be enormous. But on the other hand, having already risked being there, I didn't want to leave without a trophy. Olya was very cute. A slender twenty-four-year-old blonde with a toned figure. But I couldn't touch her, and this powerlessness was very upsetting. And then an insight came. I took out my mobile phone and, turning on the flash, slipped my hand under the blanket. The first photo didn't work out. But now I was convinced she was sleeping quite soundly. She lay on her back with her left leg stretched out and her right leg bent and turned to the side. The angle was magnificent, but hidden by the blanket. I decided I wouldn't leave without a photo of her panties, lifted the edge of the blanket again, and tried once more. A photo appeared on the screen. My heart started beating much faster after I looked. Instead of panties, I saw the hem of her nightgown, her smoothly shaved pubic mound, and her cute, closed lips. I realized luck was on my side today, and soon there were two dozen first-class photos of her pussy in my phone.
It was time to stop, but I couldn't tear myself away from her. The photographer was inspired. I wanted to take a photo of my cock against the backdrop of her face. I extracted my erect cock, and kneeling on the bed, pressed the bare head to her lips. The photos turned out excellent. I began to lose caution and, stroking my cock a little, ran it over her lips. The thought of cumming on her sleepy face excited me greatly. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe physiological peculiarities, but Olenka was sleeping very deeply. There was no reaction, even when I slipped my hand under her nightgown and touched her firm breast. I had about 5-7 minutes left, and it was time to finish. And I decided to take a risk. Wetting my sore finger with saliva, I ran it several times over her lips, parting her mouth slightly. Now my finger touches her tongue, simultaneously opening her mouth even wider. Leaning over her, I squeezed my cock between the slender rows of her teeth, which were quite sharp, I must note. What bliss it was when the head was completely in Olya's mouth. With my left hand, I leaned on the bed, and with my right, I massaged my cock when I felt her run her tongue over the head several times. Suddenly, she firmly gripped the head, and I began to move with small thrusts, deeper and deeper. I stopped understanding what was happening now, but she was giving me a blowjob herself, without opening her eyes. Slipping my hand under the blanket, I began to massage her pussy, which by that time, I must admit, was already quite wet. And then came that moment of bliss when, with several sharp movements, I filled her mouth with cum.
And then she opened her eyes. And only then did I understand what had happened. Many emotions flashed in her eyes, and a silent question: What is my cock doing in her mouth?
I freed her mouth from my cock, and after swallowing the cum, she asked: "Where is Igor?"
"He'll be back soon!" I replied calmly.
"And how did you, what did you... oh, I'm such a fool!" — that was all she could say. Her head was simply bursting with thoughts and emotions.
"I thought it was Igor," she said plaintively.
"And I liked it!" I told her.
"Me too," Olya said very quietly, looking at my cock.
Leaning down, I kissed her on the lips, very clearly tasting my own cum.
"Good night!" I said, "And let all this remain our little secret!"
Closing the door behind me, I took my place in the kitchen. With great pleasure, I reviewed the resulting photos until my companions returned. The glasses were filled again, and looking at Igor, I felt a pang of conscience for his wife, lying in the next room, fed with my cum.