This story is half true, but not half. In any case, in order not to offend anyone, the author changed the names of the characters. So any name matches are completely random.

This story happened in the summer ... of the year. I had a beloved Olya. Our relationship has been going on for four years with varying success, but by the present moment they have practically stopped, limited to only rare trips and walks in the company of our mutual friends. Then one day we were invited by a mutual acquaintance to my birthday party, and there I saw Olenka. She came to birthday in the company of a young man who was introduced to everyone as Pasha. Although I did not dare to count on anything else, I was still in shock. As I already wrote, our relationship has long since flowed into another form, but I continued to love her and extremely sensitively perceived all sorts of stories and hints of her hobbies. She spent the whole day with Pasha. The more the sun went down, the more my mood rolled down to somewhere. Now it's time for everyone to go home, and we're leaving for where. Instead of going to bed, I decided to go to Olya in order to try to talk to her again.

I couldn’t just lose it and still hoped that we could return to the good old days. In a terribly depressed mood, I hesitantly stood at the door of her apartment, not knowing how to start a conversation. Besides, I was afraid that she had already gone to bed, and I can wake her up. So having missed some time, I nevertheless decided and pressed the call button. Fortunately, the door was opened immediately, which means she did not sleep. Seeing how her face grew gloomy, I managed to regret that I had come. I again regretted it when I saw Pasha's smiling face in the kitchen. In my head I just clouded over, but I politely greeted everyone and started an easy conversation, if I may say so. So we spent hours until three in the morning, until Olya stated that it was too late and it was time for me to leave, and it was time for him and Pasha to go. After a lengthy discussion, Olya said that if I am such a fool, then I can stay. I stayed, and Olya went to the bed.

Five minutes later, the drunk Pasha was already lying in bed and Olya began to undress. My jaw dropped. I could not understand how a girl I love can undress to go to bed with another man, calmly looking me straight in the eyes. Meanwhile, she undressed and climbed under the blanket to Pasha, and I still stood like a moron and stared at this scene. Olya reacted simply to my miserable goat's bleating: she threw back the blanket and pulled off the pants from Pasha, and with her delicate lips took his dick in her mouth. I saw that Pasha this situation is not too pleasant and he pretends to be drunk more than he really is. But then his member treacherously stirred and began to pour strength. And Olya, meanwhile, continued to gently caress his head with his tongue. As in a stupor, I squatted on my haunches to look Olya in the eye, since everything that was happening began to resemble the delirium of a madman.

Olya calmly met my eyes, continuing to tongue gently tickle the bridle of Pasha's penis. So, without taking her eyes off me, she smoothly passed onto his testicles, periodically swallowing saliva, and licking the transparent droplets that regularly stood out from Pasha's urethra. Meanwhile, apparently tired of pretending to be drunk, Pasha began moaning and throwing up his ass. Finally, he groaned somehow in a special way, and a chic milk jet escaped from his penis, which fell on Olya’s face with a heavy whip. Olya deftly strung her lips on Pasha's dick and began to vigorously swallow the sperm, without taking her gaze away from me, which had acquired some mysterious shade. I saw Pasha's sperm in heavy trickles flow heavily from the corners of her lips.She smiled gently and licked her playful tongue.

Then she gently patted the member of Pasha and held the tongue from root to head - Pasha started. It was a strange sight: a sexy girl, looking intently into the eyes of one guy, brought the other to orgasm, delivering him unearthly pleasure, and he lies like a log, pretending to be either drunk or not asleep. Then, my beloved Olya squatted down and, swaying to the beat of some kind of audible music, began with the laziness of the panther to pull off her nightgown. It was a fantastic sight. I was very, very not indifferent to her gorgeous figure: unusually wide hips, unusually large (and not hanging at all, as you might expect) breasts and unusually thin waist. Her guitar-like figure never left me calm. And then, to my shame, I was trivially excited.

Especially since after Olenka for half a year I had no women at all. The shirt flew off to the side, her favorite panties a la shorts flew there as well. And then the performance began. Still swaying and looking directly into my eyes, Olya gently took her breasts in her hands and began to massage them. Oh my God! She is excited to the limit: her nipples instantly jumped up like stubborn tin soldiers. She leaned against the back of the sofa and widely spread her hips, so that everyone could better see her swollen pipa. Her left hand slid between her thighs and gently touched a small tongue, which treacherously stuck between the folds of her sweet lips. Her moan sounded for me as a team: I, as if a somnambulist, approached the sofa, knelt down, and, bending down before Olenka, touched my tongue to my small fellow.

Oh this wonderful taste! Oh this delicious smell! O this tender skin! How long have I been deprived of this. Instantly my saliva mingled with its moisture, and I greedily began to drink this nectar of the gods. Yes, it is nectar. Ambrosia. For I am sure that only this drink can give a man everything: health, longevity, happiness, love. My tongue ran from the back of my Olenka to the upper arch, where its large sponges converge, making sure that not a single drop of the precious drink goes by and gets lost in obscurity. I gently held the tongue through the middle of her pipa to the very clitoris, pushing her hot small petals; then I descended to the bottom on the smooth velvet skin in the sweet gap that we share the small and large sponges. I tried to dig under the folds of her big lips like a digger.

Naturally, my manipulations could not leave Olga indifferent - she was already just beginning to shake with passion. It is not funny, but Pasha did not remain indifferent: I felt the trembling and deflection of the sofa next to us and, squinting, saw that he was standing on full alert, and Olenka greedily swallowed his cock with her mouth. Having straightened my back, I saw that Olenka’s eyes were already full of sexual madness. And then, as according to the law of communicating vessels, this madness overwhelmed me: with my left hand I jerked open my shorts and moved toward Olenka, sending my penis into her pipochka. A light tickling of the hair on my head, an electric shock of wet, hot sponges and so I fall into the voluptuous depth. An involuntary cry escaped from our lips with Olenka, she clasped me with her right hand and leapt forward on me.

Like crazy we started to twitch to each other for a meeting and back, loud smacking sounds, like a room thundered out. I realized that I was dying, and decided that this death could only be dreamed of: at the moment of the highest pleasure in the arms of my beloved Olenka. Some kind of bestial growl escaped from my chest, and I felt the liberated jets beat in Olenka. At the same moment, as if on cue, Pasha also began to finish. Since his cock was practically in front of my face, I saw in detail how his head instantly swelled and turned purple, and streams of his sperm jerked out of her.They splashed and splashed on the face of the beloved Olenka, filling her eyes, falling into her open mouth, hitting her matted hair. Strange, but I did not feel a drop of jealousy, but only a mysterious, all-encompassing feeling of tender and affectionate love.

Dead silence hung in the room. We froze, as if trying to keep ...