0. The stories from my life with my wife are so incredible that I started publishing them on one of the sites, I felt a grievance when I read reviews, supposedly lies, and stopped turning my soul in front of anonymous. And here, relatively not so long ago, a passing road, my friend fell to me. One hundred years have not seen! He stayed with me for a week, instead of the planned three days. Talk. A lot of things have accumulated in my soul, both with me and with him. You know how it happens when there is such a thing in your heart that not everyone can tell. In short, while we were sitting with my alcohol supplies, I managed to tell him my life drama, and he told me about his own. To sober is to talk about yourself and your beloved - language and not turn. Therefore, having picked up, they did not feel any awkwardness for their revelations. Rather, some shame for the imposition of himself, and the joy of relief from the soul. Since we meet extremely rarely, and the stories turned out to be somewhat similar, and our soul, sympathetic, understanding, needed to be poured out, during parting we experienced only a slight raid of embarrassment for our weakness, that we spoke out and a feeling of absolute trust in each other as to the keeper of a friend's secret. Later, digesting a friend's story in my head, I found myself just seeing the images in front of my eyes, as if I had read a novel, or had watched a movie. I called him, the benefit of exchanging new numbers, this and that, and after and said about the fact that his story still does not go out of my head. He replied to me that he has the same thing: he just stands up, as he remembers that with my wife the other men got up. That's when we agreed with him that I would write a story about them, with my wife, and he, if he wants, about mine. Without real names, of course, you never know who will recognize us or yourself from the story. On that and completed the conversation on this topic. About a month passed before it began. So, he sketched scenes, and washed - it was too bad, so for those who are loved - it is impossible. My hands itched, but I was timid, it was scary to endure this rubbish, and, by the way, I was not a writer, and I was afraid that I would go again into vulgar vocabulary and I would get unbridled porn. I wanted to show that not maniacs are my friends, but normal, decent people, with their vulnerable souls, but with their cockroaches in their heads, forcing them to go for extraordinary acts for the sensation of sweet excitement. He wrote and rewrote a lot of times. It took more than a year. In the end, I wrote in the first person, because I myself am not a professional writer, and I have only ten classes behind me, and it’s easier for me to write. So, do not blame me if something is wrong or clumsily brought out. And now I present to you and his very story.

1. It was 1987. Having fallen on my chest, my wife sobbed in her chest voice. The member seemed to shake an invisible hand, delivering the last drop of semen.
The phone is the enemy of the marital bed, rang this time late, and did not manage to spoil our pleasure. I thought about it with an incomprehensible gloating, and also with satisfaction that today I finally managed to persuade my wife and take a picture of how she descended, sitting on my dick, swallowing him before the trill of the bell rang. It has long dreamed of having such photos! You are late, brother phone, with your untimely calls! I have already managed to remove everything I wanted!
Svetlana reluctantly straightened up and reached for the apparatus. She listened to the monologue in the tube, swaying slightly at me. She continued to sit astride during a conversation, and I felt that she was again excited, pouring warmth from her bottom, from such pranks, and in response to this, my flesh began to just turn to stone.
Her father called. I immediately knew it from the phrases about anything.After his daughter began to live with me, married, and the son remained on extra-special service, he found himself in his apartment alone, and when he drank from depression, he called Svetlana, just like that, and although there was nothing to report, he shed his soul for a long time . Now there was such a call again. All of this, already becoming something of a tradition, irritated me a little and therefore I, with an internal smile, to force my beloved to quickly round off the conversation, tried the following: I began to move my pelvis again rhythmically. My calculation turned out to be correct: from the impossibility of focusing on the conversation and at the same time on the sensations inside of myself, my wife soon began to get confused thoughts. She tried to rise from me, but I kept Svetka, overcoming her resistance. Sveta froze for a minute with a tube pressed to her ear and eyes covered, and after that she became completely crimson-faced and went limp, surrendering to my head. My wife was sitting on me, and, breathing excitedly with her mouth, unexpectedly for me, in a matter of seconds she became very agitated. So strong I have never seen his wife before. Sveta, in a gentle, chesty voice, began to speak to her father of tenderness, and at the same time she herself began to move more and more passionately and stumble upon my penis. So abundant lubricant slipped into the vagina, so that I loosely wedged it as if it had become more spacious. Svetka listened to the voice in the tube and gave out with mad fever until she bent over and bit her lip, with a grimace of pain, did not reach orgasm. Father, with her long silence apparently decided that something with a connection, and put his pipe.
Svetka, having come to her senses a bit, collapsed on her side and turned away from me, crying softly. It cost me a lot of effort so that my wife stopped sulking and explained everything, although I already began to guess what had happened. Finally, my beloved, with half hints, fragments of phrases that her tongue didn’t turn to utter from shame, made me understand that from the tender words of the father in the pipe, superimposed on my caresses, and her thoughts began to be so confused it seemed as if she was her father, having overcome the resistance of her daughter, and not I possessed her. Inside, my hurt pride rumbled, but the sincere worries of my wife about what happened have awakened my tenderness and sympathy. Yes, and shame for the rashness of action, to be honest, too.
It all ended with the fact that she, having cried, calmed down, and only then, she confessed to me:
- Do you understand what happened? I talked with my father, and you continued, and my thoughts just started to get so confused that at some point it seemed to me that I was with him now! I began to break out, because it is a shame to do this with my father! What have you done! You overpowered my resistance and took power! You will never understand the extent to which it is embarrassing to understand that my own father is inside of me, and, despite disgust, to experience a sweet sensation. I wanted shame for myself, for being sweet to me, just to fall through the ground! And from these thoughts every new movement of the man inside became unthinkably exciting and caused such a delight of pleasure that I simply fell into darkness, ceased to exist. There was only a vagina, with its sensations and a member of the father, who vagina caressed, as she could, wholly surrendering to him. I never thought that I would become so depraved!

- Stop doing that! Thought you, and everything! - I replied with some internal fright, which I tried to hide.

- You still do not understand! I heard from girls that it happens, but it never occurred to me that I myself couldn’t resist the sweet temptation to succumb to the rapist father, and I would give myself to him, and with all my passion! And the most embarrassing thing is that, no matter how hard I tried to avoid it, I still experienced the pleasure of this “sex with him”! Now do you understand? Come to mind! It turns out internally, I'm the dirtiest of all whores! Internally, I was such a dirtier that does not happen! Which can even with the father, and receives from it instead of disgust - the greatest pleasure in all life!
I just blushed, berating myself for being tempted to try this.I used to hear from the guys about how they faithful wives pissed off their members, forcing them to talk to them during the fuck. Their enthusiasm for the stories and seduced to try something similar with his wife. The decision was spontaneous. It just came to mind about the phone, and excitement and curiosity, look at how Svetka ...