What are the consequences of cheating on a girlfriend?
Continuation of the story "Eastern Sweets"
One quiet evening in early August, when the sun had just set below the horizon and the calm sea surface merged with the clear light-blue sky, Lenura and I were swimming naked in the sea after a hot love battle in the gazebo
at an abandoned resort base. Having swum a considerable distance from the shore, we were splashing around in the water, hugging and kissing. When it was time to go ashore so as not to miss the last train again, I noticed two girls and a guy sitting on the shore next to a silver Daewoo.The group was already getting dressed and preparing to leave. One of the girls, plump, with shoulder-length highlighted hair and a chubby face, stopped and silently watched us. The girl was standing about twenty meters away; I couldn't see her well, but even from a distance her face seemed strikingly familiar. Ignoring the group, we got dressed and headed for the bus to the city.
The train was pulling into the evening station "Simferopol-Passazhirsky". I jumped out of the barely opened doors onto the cobblestone platform, tossed an empty beer bottle into a trash can, and lit a cigarette. The trolleybuses and minibuses had already stopped running, so I had to walk to the Moscow Ring Road, fortunately it wasn't far. Finally, I reached our eighteen-story building. The elevator was busy, I didn't have the strength to drag myself up twelve flights of stairs, so I stood and waited. Finally, an encouraging hum sounded, the elevator door opened, and Olya, Irka's friend and a rare bitch, floated out of the doors.
Olya is a large girl with shoulder-length highlighted hair and a disgusting character, which is why she's been single for two years already. More than anything in the world, she loved photography and never parted with her digital camera. Olya's cherished dream was to steal me from Ira, for which she was ready for any meanness. "Ah, that's who the girl on the beach who was watching me and Lenura looked like," an unpleasant suspicion flashed through my mind.
— Hi! — she greeted me maliciously, smiling gloatingly.
— Hi! — I muttered quietly and entered the elevator.
Today Ira was clearly in a bad mood. She stood on the threshold with an angry look; lightning flashed in her turquoise eyes, which now seemed dark gray, promising a storm.
— Quickly pack your shit and get the fuck out! Get the hell out of my apartment, you cocksucker!
— Irochka, what's wrong?
— As if you don't know? In all three years, I've never cheated on you once, and you're an ungrateful pig! — Ira led me to the computer and showed me a photo featuring Lenura and me in our birthday suits.
— The photo is tiny, how could you even see? I don't know who that is in the picture.
— Then how do you explain the lipstick on your neck?
I looked in the mirror and indeed saw a trace of Lenura's brown lipstick on my neck. So it was Olya I saw on the beach! I had no defense; I silently trudged off to pack my things.
When my things were packed into bags, I was about to call my best friend Seryoga to come pick up my stuff with his car. Then Ira walked in; her face showed she had calmed down.
— Even though you're a bastard, I still love you! Unpack your things, you're staying, but you'll be punished. What kind — you'll find out after dinner. Now go to the kitchen, you must be hungry. I made your favorite liver in sour cream. After dinner — a shower, and then I'll be waiting for you in the bedroom.
When I entered the bedroom, Ira was sitting naked on the bed; her favorite vibrator, twenty centimeters long and four centimeters thick, was sticking out between her legs.
— Get undressed and come here.
I obeyed. Ira pulled out a latex vaginal ball about three centimeters in diameter, pink with short but sharp spikes, from somewhere. She fitted the ball into my navel, having first turned on the vibration, and tightly secured it with a belt made from a white cashmere scarf, wrapping it around me twice and tying the ends on my stomach. Then Ira ordered me to get on all fours and began working on my anus, massaging my prostate with two fingers, then she pulled her terrible vibrator, slick with her juices, out of her pussy, shoved it more than halfway into my ass, and turned it to medium speed.
A sharp pain tore through my rectum, but after a while it became pleasant; the tip was literally pushing up against my throat. That wasn't all: Ira put a noose around my scrotum and stretched a strap between my legs, tying one end to the base of my cock and securing the other end behind me to the belt — when my erection intensified, the strap painfully cut into my balls and pushed the vibrator deeper into my ass.
— And now we can move on to the actual punishment, — said Ira and lay down on her back next to me. She rolled me onto her soft belly, hugged me tightly and wrapped her legs around me, pressing me against her and depriving me of the ability to change position; I could only slightly lift myself on my arms to catch my breath.
— The punishment is that you will fuck me until I get tired. And I won't get tired soon, you know how much I love fucking my kitten. Right now, I'm going to drain your balls of every last drop of cum; for two weeks you won't even want to think about other girls. As long as you have even a little bit of a hard-on, I won't let you go. Why so slow, bunny, don't you like it? Give it some heat! — Ira thrust her pussy up at me and started kissing me passionately.
I gradually began to speed up the rhythm until I reached the pace that Irochka likes, but I couldn't maintain it for long (probably time to quit smoking).
— What's wrong with you? Didn't you eat? Or overworked? Catch the rhythm! — Iriska started alternately thrusting her ass and pressing her heel on the vibrator. I adjusted to her movements. Slipping my hands under Ira's back, I pressed her poor body by the shoulder blades until her bones cracked. With every thrust, we both wanted to scream bloody murder, but due to the unending kiss, it wasn't a scream but a moan. My cock inside Irochka swelled painfully; I'd never had such a wild erection. The strap between my legs tightened like a guitar string and dug into my balls, but the pain combined with powerful sexual arousal turned into pleasure.
After a few minutes of sweet torture, Ira screamed bloody murder, painfully raking her long nails down my back and almost crushing my cock with her vagina. My cock fired like a cannon; there was enough cum to conceive a dozen twins. Despite the strongest orgasm, the erection didn't go away. I continued without stopping, not pulling my cock out of Ira and not changing position. The first orgasm was followed by a second and third, even stronger than the first. Iriska came about five times during this. She rested her back, and we continued on our sides, then doggy style, then again in the classic position. After I came for the seventh time and Ira for the twelfth, she let me rest. We switched to the "69" position.
Near my face were Ira's tea-rose-colored petals and slightly rough yellowish-pink heels. I was licking my Irisochka's flower, swallowing my own cum streaming out of it, while stroking her legs with my hands. Meanwhile, Ira was working on my cock, swallowing it all the way to the root, wrapped in the strap wet with juices. We came simultaneously. Ira freed me from all the instruments of torture and brought a wound-healing ointment from the first aid kit.
— Poor thing, a bad girl was tormenting him, torturing him just now, — Ira kissed the head of my cock and began applying ointment to the scratches on the shaft, reddened from friction and deflated. Under the girl's touch, the hopelessly deflated cock stirred and began to rise, first lazily and uncertainly, then quite briskly.
— Ah, it dares to get hard again? So, are you going to go fuck your Fatima, or Gyulchatay, or whatever her name is, again tomorrow? No way! I won't leave that black-assed market girl a single milligram! So we'll continue, — Ira shoved the vibrator into my ass again, this time all the way to the handle and turned on full speed. This time I was lying on my back; Iriska mounted me from above and began kneading my nipples with her fingers. She moved hard and aggressively, like a fucking machine. I kept cumming. Ninth, tenth,… thirteenth… I lost count of Ira's orgasms.
— Let this be a lesson to you about loving other girls. Every time you even talk to another girl, you'll get a punishment like this. And that's not all: tomorrow morning we're going to the registry office, — having said this, Ira went to the bathroom, and returning, collapsed onto her stomach without strength, hugged a pillow, and quietly began to snore. Waiting for the bathroom and toilet to be free, I galloped to the toilet because my bladder threatened to burst at any moment.
My bitten lips, scratched back, and vibrator-ravaged ass were sore; my balls felt like they'd been in a medieval executioner's vise. My ravaged cock was a pitiful sight: crimson-red, wrinkled, shriveled, covered in small abrasions oozing blood. After the sexual super-marathon, I was desperately hungry. Finishing my toiletries, I devoured half a skillet of noodles and half a pan of liver, washed it down with cold kvass, smoked on the balcony, and, reaching the bed, passed out next to my tormentor.
By morning, the miracle was swollen and hurt badly.