Жена Готовит, а я Ебу ее Подругу

Title: The Not-So model Homemaker and Her Best Junkie Friend’s Wild Afternoon Delight

The Russian sun beat down mercilessly as Yelena slaved away in the cramped kitchen of their small apartment, preparing a hearty lunch for her neglectful husband Sergei. She hummed a wistful tune, her nimble fingers deftly chopping fresh vegetables with a weary sigh. Little did she know, her best friend Natasha, an 18-year-old vixen straight out of the local high school, was lounging seductively on the living room couch, awaiting her moment.

As Yelena carried the steaming pot of borscht towards the dining table, Natasha sauntered into the kitchen, her pert youthful breasts barely constrained by a flimsy scrunchie. “Smells divine, Yelena!” she purred in perfect Russian, tracing a slender finger along the rim of the pot. “Sergei must be so lucky to have you waiting on him hand and foot.”

Yelena pursed her lips, her suspicions roused. “What are you doing here, Natasha? Isn’t it past your bedtime? You still have school tomorrow.”

Natasha merely giggled, a wicked glint in her emerald eyes. She sauntered closer, her lithe body pressing against Yelena’s. “Oh, Yelena… you always were so naive. Don’t you realize I’m here for you? To show you the pleasure you’ve been missing?”

Yelena’s heart raced, her breathing becoming shallow. Natasha’s expert hands slid down her body, caressing the curves she’d neglected for too long. “E-confident natively, Yelena was paralysed by the sudden familiarly of pleasures. Natasha’s masterful hands roamed her curves, awakening unfamiliar sensations as they performed a wicked magic trick.

Yelena’s resolve weakened, the pent-up frustration and desire throbbing between her thighs. “Natalia,” she gasped, her voice quivering, “we c-can’t… it’s wrong. I’m m-marri-” Before she could finish, Natasha’s lips crashed onto hers, cutting off her protests. The nubile young girl’s tongue forced its way into Yelena’s mouth, brawling and wrestling for dominance.

Moaning into the kiss, Yelena’s hands moved almost of their own accord. They roamed Natasha’s petite body, palming the girl’s erect nipples through her flimsy top. Natasha whimpered, her hips grinding desperately against Yelena as the older woman’s fingers kneaded her tits and teased her hardening nubs.

Dropping to her knees, Natasha yanked Yelena’s skirt up and buried her face between the Russian woman’s thighs. A muffled moan escaped her as she tongued Yelena’s wet folds, flicking over her clit and plunging deep into her cunt. Yelena gripped the counter, her knuckles turning white as she gritted her teeth to silence her cries.

The impish schoolgirl bobbed on Yelena’s clit, her deft tongue driving the neglected Russian wife wild. Her fingers pumped deep inside, curling just right as Natasha discovered her G-spot. “Oh, fuck… Natasha… yes!” Yelena whimpered, her voice rising in crescendo as Natasha fingered her with expert precision.

Just as Yelena teetered on the edge of climax, Natasha withdrew. The naughty minx stood, a wicked grin plastered on her angelic face. “I want your cock, Yelena. Shove it in my tight little cunt and fill me up! Fuck me like you fuck Sergei – make me scream!”

Yelena hesitated, her mind reeling at the taboo offer. But the pent-up sexual frustration was too great. With a primal growl, Yelena swept the dishes off the table and bent Natasha over it. She ripped the schoolgirl’s panties aside and plunged into her…