Vodka with juice
"Dedicated to the greatest inhabitant of the Charenton asylum."
"VODKA WITH JUICE"
The fun had been going on for over an hour. Many participants of this celebration of life were already quite tipsy, and the moment was slowly approaching when one large group splinters into smaller ones based on interests.
Olya usually tried to keep herself in check at such events, but today was an exception. She poured herself another vodka with juice and sipped it somewhat absently, lost in her thoughts. No one was bothering her, as she was the only one left at the table, everyone else having happily scattered around the apartment. Even Olya's best friend Svetka
had left her, having secluded herself in the bathroom with some dubious young man."Vodka with juice... that's kind of stupid..." — a voice unexpectedly interrupted her thoughts.
Olya saw a young man sitting across the table; he had been there from the beginning, but she didn't know him personally. And in general, Olya found such remarks to be insolent.
"Why on earth?" — she uttered, trying to sound as cold and dismissive as possible.
"Neither fish nor fowl," the guy smiled in response, seemingly not even noticing her tone.
"I like it." — Olya infused her tone with all the indifference she was capable of.
"You just don't know how to drink properly, so you've gotten used to this kind of swill..."
Olya even paled with indignation. She looked at the guy the way the Holy Inquisition once looked at those accused of witchcraft. She wanted to say something in response but couldn't even find the words to express what was going on in her head.
"Don't be offended... it just seemed that way to me," — he looked so open and sincere that Olga even felt a little ashamed of her receding anger — "it's just not clear why you can't drink vodka neat..."
He placed two shot glasses in front of himself and skillfully filled them.
— Shall we drink?
Olga silently took the shot glass and, without thinking, downed it.
— Now that's more like it... — the guy broke into a smile and, after downing his shot, poured another for both of them.
Half an hour later, they were already having a pleasant conversation. Alexander turned out to be an interesting interlocutor, and upon closer inspection, Olya noted with some excitement that he was quite good-looking too.
— The cynicism and hypocrisy of the modern world kills me — Alexander took a deep drag from his cigarette and exhaled the smoke through his nostrils.
— But not everyone is like that — Olya rarely smoked, but this evening, which had already inevitably turned into night, was an evening of exceptions for her, and she, in turn, was also taking drags from a cigarette.
Alexander looked intently into her eyes, and his hand confidently descended onto her bare thigh.
She was about to protest, but it felt so pleasant and timely that goosebumps ran across her skin. His hand moved closer and closer to her crotch, and Olya merely closed her eyes, her whole body anticipating the coming pleasure.
His fingers reached the barrier of her thin, semi-transparent panties; he moved them aside with one motion and touched the moist lips of her vagina.
Olya held her breath at his touch, warmth spreading throughout her body. She felt his fingers slowly entering her. A wave of pleasure washed over her, and she moaned, unable to hold back. His fingers moved inside her, penetrating deeper and deeper. Her breathing became ragged, her heart pounded wildly, threatening to burst from her chest, her thoughts tangled, only pleasure kept coming in warm waves, each subsequent wave stronger than the last. She gripped the edge of the table tightly with her hand. She thought she would lose consciousness from pleasure, the muscles inside tensed in an instant, the pleasant feeling in her lower abdomen grew with unending force, and the magical moment of euphoria arrived — her whole body relaxed... she came.
For a long time, she simply enjoyed this state of weakness. Finally, she opened her eyes. Alexander slowly withdrew his fingers from her and licked them. Olga watched as if spellbound; the arousal had subsided, but the desire hadn't disappeared. She hesitated for a second, glanced around the room — besides them, there was no one in the room showing signs of consciousness. A mysterious smile lit up her face, and she disappeared under the table. Alexander felt Olga unzip his fly and felt the pleasant touch of her hands on his erection, swollen with desire. The touch of her wet tongue scorched his excited flesh, making his blood circulate faster and faster. Her tongue moved along the shaft of his penis from bottom to top until it reached the head, which instantly disappeared into Olya's mouth.
Alexander held his breath from pleasure, feeling his excited member fully immersed in her hot mouth. He threw his head back and enjoyed the process — her lips moved faster and faster along his cock; she would completely take it out of her mouth and lick it with her tongue, then swallow it down to his balls so deeply that Alexander could barely keep from crying out in pleasure. He placed a hand on her head and involuntarily began to control the process to achieve the highest pleasure. Her head moved quickly up and down, the pace increasing. Alexander felt he soon wouldn't be able to hold back under her unrestrained onslaught. He felt the muscles in his legs and his penis tense in one second. Unconsciously, with one motion, he thrust it deep into her throat and felt the semen begin to spurt into Olga's mouth in powerful pulses. It was a moment of bliss; his head was empty, and only a sensation of sweet languor spread throughout his body.
Olga felt her mouth fill with semen not without pleasure and swallowed it with a certain pride.
"Ol, Ol..." — a voice sounded right by her ear.
Olga turned around somewhat confusedly and, not understanding what was happening, began to look around.
"Ol, did you fall asleep? — Svetka stood before her, smiling broadly — I saw you were sleeping, so I started to wake you up..."
She was saying something else, but Olga wasn't listening. She was sitting at the table, just as at the beginning of the evening. Next to her stood a half-finished glass of vodka with juice, and the headache suggested it wasn't her first. Olga vainly tried to find Alexander among the people sleeping here and there.
— Where's Sasha? — she asked hopefully.
— What Sasha? I left with Kolya... — Sveta looked at her uncomprehendingly. — So, girlfriend, I see you really hit the alcohol hard. Are we going home or staying here?
— Home — Olga answered resignedly, understanding she would be remembering this dream for a long time.