My friend teaches me deepthroat

My friend licenses me deepthroat

The sun had only just crept over the horizon when the piercing ring of my phone yanked me from the comfort of my slumber. Half-asleep and groggy, I fumbled for the device on my nightstand, knocking over a half-empty bottle of water in the process.

“Hello?” I croaked, my voice still heavy with sleep.

“Tasha! Wake up, sleepyhead! We’ve got a Friday to rock.” The perky Russian accent of my best friend,Russian babe, was instantly recognizable through the line.

“Anastasia, do you know what time it is?” Despite my irritation, a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. Her enthusiasm was infectious, even at this ungodly hour.

“Of course I do! It’s Friday morning. The perfect day for a lesson.” She paused, then added dramatically, “In deepthroating.”

I nearly dropped the phone. “What?!”

“Come on, it’ll be fun! I’ll teach you everything I know.” Her voice was a tempting singsong. “Trust me, Tas, you’ll be thanking me when you’re rocking your man’s world.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her audacity. Anastasia had always been the daring, adventurous type, never afraid to try something new. And I had to admit, the idea of mastering the art of deepthroating was intriguing.

“Alright, you crazy Russian,” I relented. “I’m in. When and where?”

“Great! Pack your overnight bag and come over to my place. We’ll have a ladies’ weekend and I’ll school you in the ways of deepthroating. Trust me, by the end of the weekend, you’ll be a pro.”

True to her word, Anastasia and I spent the next two days exploring and discussing every aspect of deepthroating. We started with the basics – relaxing your throat, using your tongue, breathing through your nose. Anastasia eagerly shared her own personal techniques, whisking her pink tongue across her plump, glossy lips as she spoke risqué Russian phrases.

“Remember, Tasha, sempre debo essere aggressivo!”,” she advised, her hand pumping an imaginary shaft. “”Infinite lightly down the throat, sim, sim, dare!””

As we grew more comfortable, Anastasia encouraged me to practice on a banana. I felt ridiculous at first, sliding the tropical fruit into my mouth and down my throat, but Anastasia was a patient coach.

“Good, good! Your throat is strong, like the Russian birch trees!” Anastasia cheered as I gagged and choked, my eyes tearing up. “Now, carpe diem! Ulterior, ulterior!”

Gradually, I learned to relax my muscles, to focus on the sensations rather than the discomfort. And when Anastasia finally thought I was ready for the real thing, she invited her boyfriend over for a demonstration.

“Pyotr will be our willing victim,” she announced, grinning mischievously. “Don’t hold back, Tasha.”

I watched, wide-eyed, as Anastasia dropped to her knees before her man, freeing his hardening cock from his pants. She looked up at him through her lashes and whispered something in Russian, her voice dripping with sex. Then, in one fluid motion, she engulfed his shaft, sliding it deep into her throat.

I gasped, my own body flushing with arousal. Anastasia looked like a goddess, her head bobbing up and down as she worshipped Pyotr’s cock. He groaned, his hands fisting in her hair as he held her in place, pushing deeper.

“M tensions,” Anastasia released his cock with a lewd pop, turning to me with a triumphant grin. “See? aime de suer!”

Emboldened, I approached Pyotr. He regarded me with a heated gaze, his chest heaving with anticipation. I sank to my knees and took his cock into my mouth, running my tongue along the sensitive underside and swirling it around the swollen head.

Urging myself to relax, I took him deeper, inch by throbbing inch, until I felt him brushing the back of my throat. I gagged reflexively, but pushed through, aiming to take him as deep as possible. Tears streamed down my face as I held him there, pressing my nose into his groin as I swallowed around him.

“Christ, Tasha,” Pyotr groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. “You’re a natural.”

I pulled away, gasping for air, and grinned up at him. “Thanks to Anastasia.”

My friend beamed back at me, her face flushed with pride. “I knew you had it in you, Tasha. Now, let’s see you finish him off.”

With gusto, Pyotr and I continued our dance, trading places when he neared his peak. Anastasia watched intently, her hand slipping beneath her skirt as she stroked herself to the show.

When he finally exploded, it was in a hot, thick torrent down my throat. I swallowed eagerly, my throat working as I milked him for every last drop. As I released his spent cock with a mischievous wink, Anastasia eager me into a triumphant embrace.

“Well done, my friend!” she cheered, planting a kiss on my cheek. “You have learned the art of deepthroating. I am proud of you.”

As the weekend drew to a close, Anastasia and I parted ways with a promise to continue our erotic education. I carried with me not only the knowledge of the deepthroating, but also the unbreakable bond of friendship – a bond forged in the heat of our lustful lessons.

And as I passed the Russian bakeries and alcohol factories of my neighborhood, I couldn’t help but smile at the memories of our naughty weekend. I had learned so much from Anastasia, about pleasure, about myself, and about the art of deepthroating fuck. And I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey into the erotic world. Anastasia and I were truly the best of friends.