Чужая жена

His name was Artyom, and he was a virtuoso of the quiet hunt. His domain was not forests and mushrooms, but the boundless expanse of the internet, where he tracked his prey—women whose lives had frozen in the hazy fog of routine. He knew how to become what they were missing: an understanding conversationalist, a secret admirer, a source of the emotions they lacked. They found him sensitive, dangerous, and incredibly attractive. Artyom reveled in this power, the ability to make them breathe heavier and run their fingers over their vaginas from a distance, with just a word.

One such woman was Svetlana. Thirty-eight years old, married, two children. As he had long noted, this is the age

when a marriage often transforms from a fortress into a cozy prison with velvet walls. Passion had died, conversations had dwindled to domestic matters, and even hatred had been replaced by indifferent fatigue. Artyom understood: a woman, like a plant, needs light and water. In the form of compliments, attention, flirtation. She needs someone to listen to her innermost thoughts and fulfill her secret desires. Perhaps that is the formula for female happiness: to be heard, desired, and experiencing orgasms.

Their virtual romance lasted several months.

— Today he asked again what's for dinner," she wrote to him in the evening. "I looked at him and realized: I don't care. Absolutely. I don't even want to get angry. Inside me, it's just complete emptiness.

— Emptiness is worse than anger," Artyom replied immediately. "It eats a person from the inside. You need warmth, attention. You deserve all of that.

Svetlana was married, but, as he had assumed, her marriage had long since run out of steam. Her husband irritated her just by his presence, she couldn't bring herself to cook dinner for him, and sharing a bedroom was out of the question. Listening to her, Artyom just shook his head mentally—how people drive each other to this, simply unwilling to understand the simplest mechanisms of human psychology.

In him, however, she found a breath of fresh air. He became her confessor, the one who accepted her without judgment. Very quickly, their communication slid onto frank tracks. They were drawn to each other like magnets.

— Can you imagine how I'd be lying next to you right now, running my fingers down your back?" he wrote. "Slowly, from top to bottom...

— Stop," she replied a minute later. "I'm already burning up... Do you know where my hand is right now?

They exchanged explicit photos, described fantasies, and again—fingers, whispers, quiet moans in their headphones. But it wasn't enough anymore. The thirst for a real meeting became unbearable.

— I can't stand this anymore, Artyom," she said once over a voice call, and he heard a tremor in her voice. "I need to see you. I want to caress you in person. I want to kiss your sweet lips.

— We'll meet. I promise. I might get the opportunity.

They agreed to meet when Svetlana went to her sister's anniversary in a neighboring city. The perfect alibi. She would leave the celebration early, he would meet her, and for a few hours, she would belong only to him, returning home to her husband by nightfall. That's exactly what happened.

The day before, Svetlana sent him a photo of her evening dress and her lingerie.

— This is what I'll be wearing tomorrow. And this..." she sent a second photo, "is only for you. You'll tell me what you're going to do with it, won't you?

a finger under the elastic, how he would run it along the entire length of her vagina, not entering inside, just sliding over her heated skin, driving her crazy with anticipation. Artyom told her how he would then turn her onto her stomach, spank her rounded bottom, leaving a slight redness against the white lace, and how he would kiss every centimeter of her back, moving lower and lower...

— And when I finally take them off you," he continued, "I won't throw them away. I'll clench them in my fist while I fuck you from behind. You'll feel the fabric on your skin, and my hand in your hair.

He talked for a long time, detailing every gesture, every sigh, every moan he intended to wrench from her. He described how he would bite her thighs, leaving small marks, how he would hold her hands, not letting her touch herself. And Sveta would beg him for it.

When the voice message ended, Svetlana sat on the edge of her bed in her bedroom, adjusting her hair with trembling hands. She felt how the lace fabric of her panties had become wet and sticky, and between her legs pulsed an insistent, warm desire. She had to change before leaving the house because the first pair of panties was hopelessly ruined. But even in the new ones, worn under the elegant dress, she felt the same damp heat as soon as she remembered his words. In the end, Svetlana went to her sister's anniversary in lace wet with excitement, with a secret smile on her lips, clutching her phone with his message in her palm like a talisman.

It was evening, around eight. He was waiting for her in the parking lot near the banquet hall. She told her husband she'd be back by eleven. Surprisingly, at their first meeting, there wasn't a shadow of awkwardness between them.

— God, it's really you," the girl exhaled, getting into the car. She smelled of expensive perfume and wine.

— Did you think I was an avatar?" Artyom smiled, starting the engine.

— No. It's just... In person, you're even more... attractive.

It seemed their chat had simply materialized, swapping digital space for the physical. And now, instead of just fantasizing, they could touch each other.

Svetlana was already quite tipsy when he picked her up. They drove to his apartment, chatting and laughing, burning with impatience. The drive took about twenty-five minutes. The magnetic attraction between the pair was so strong that she kept reaching for him, kissing his cheek, his neck, stroking her bare knees.

— You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment," Sveta whispered in his ear.

Without taking his eyes off the road, he slid his hand under the hem of her dress and ran his palm along the inside of her thigh. The girl froze and took a heavy breath.

— Artyom...

Then Svetlana began to tease. She unbuttoned a couple of buttons on her blouse and set free her full, firm breasts.

— Like it? You wanted to see this so much... up close...

He immediately covered it with his palm. His fingers squeezed the hard nipple, and the girl shuddered.

— More..." she asked. "Come on, squeeze them! I've wanted to feel you for so long!

Over months of correspondence, he had studied her sensuality map: neck, breasts, thighs—the direct path to the epicenter of desire.

And an aroused Svetlana was a force of nature. All inhibitions crumbled. She began stroking his leg, and then the tense mound between his legs.

— Oh," was all he could exhale.

— Yeah?" she giggled. "You like it when I do that?

Hiding the powerful erection under his jeans was impossible. Sveta leaned over, touched her lips to his neck, continuing to caress his cock through the fabric. He couldn't respond fully—the road demanded attention—and that turned him on even more. The power was in her hands; Sveta could tease him with impunity, watching the veins in his neck strain, knowing he would pay her back in full later.

She unzipped his fly and freed his cock. Heavy, engorged with blood, with a prominent head. She gasped in admiration.

— My God... It's just like in the photo, but... real. I want to take it in my mouth!

Finally, it was in her hands, not on a screen. Artyom was on the edge, his breathing ragged. Sveta ran her tongue over the head, along the shaft, not stopping the rhythmic movement of her hand. He knew how much she loved this ritual.

— Sveta... Careful, I'm driving," he rasped.

— Hush," she whispered. "Just drive us home. And I'll... get to know it better in the meantime.

Tracing intricate patterns, Sveta suddenly, without warning, took his cock deep into her mouth.

Taken by surprise, Artyom almost swerved off the road. It was so intense that he slowed down. Fortunately, the country highway was deserted at that hour. Sveta sucked and caressed him with such greedy diligence, as if she wanted to draw the very life out of him.

— What have they driven her to," flashed through Artyom's mind.

By nature, he was a dominant, and he couldn't bear it any longer. Clenching her hair in his fist, he began to control her movements.

— Okay, wait... Not so fast," he ordered, pressing her head to him, forcing her to linger at the very bottom.

Sveta gagged and choked, and when he released her, she pulled away from his cock and gasped for air. It was something else. Artyom pulled over onto the nearest dirt road, leaned back in the seat, and surrendered completely to the sensations.

— Now," he exhaled, "no one will disturb us.

His hand slid to her ass, to the thin lace of her thong, which the girl had already shifted in the heat of passion. Moving the fabric aside, he touched her pussy with his fingers. It was soaking wet, hot. At his touch alone, her body shuddered in a convulsion.

— You're all wet," he stated.

He pulled her hair towards him. Her lips, smeared with his cum, met his in a burning, silent kiss. Words were unnecessary.

Soon the couple was in the back seat. Artyom turned her with her back to him, pulled up her dress, and finally yanked off her thong. It was cramped and uncomfortable, but he tried. Leaning down, he ran his tongue along her wet slit, then drank every drop of her nectar with his lips. Sveta gripped the seat upholstery and moaned.

— Artyom, please... Stop teasing... I need you to fuck me. Impale me on your cock!

A ballad played quietly on the radio. Everything was perfect. Artyom ran the head of his cock along her vagina, slid it, then, pressing, entered inside. Clutching her hair and pulling her towards him, he entered to the very end. Tight, incredibly so. They moaned in unison.

— Yes... like that..." she exhaled. "Fuck...

Now Sveta belonged to him completely.

Artyom fucked her hard, with slaps, with all his might. He felt his cock sliding in her warm, squelching pussy, how perfectly her body accepted him. Artyom didn't forget her breasts, squeezing and kneading them, tugging her nipples as if trying to tear them off.

— My... little... slut," he said, thrusting into her with each word.

— Yes!" the girl screamed in response. "I'm yours! Fuck me!

This was their first time, and all the energy accumulated during the day poured out here, in the cramped car. It turned her on when he called her his slut. That's what he made her—his, wanton and insatiable whore.

Artyom felt she was at her peak. He began to enter her with renewed force, lingering in the deepest part, stretching her so the girl felt every centimeter of him.

— I'm going to... cum now..." she moaned, her voice breaking.

— Cum," he whispered commandingly in her ear. "Come on...

Clutching her hair so hard it felt like it would be ripped out by the roots, he brought her to a deafening, body-shaking orgasm. It seemed to him that sprays of her juices splattered all over the car interior.

The peak lasted mere seconds. He kept moving, driving his hard cock into her with such force as if he wanted to tear her apart from the inside. Sveta came, her body trembling, and Artyom, by sheer willpower, held himself back, waiting for her spasms to subside. Then, still holding her hair, he turned her and placed his cock into her open, waiting mouth.

— Suck, bitch," he ordered hoarsely. "I want to cover your face.

Sveta began sucking him with pleasure and greed, caressing the base with her hand. He held her head with both hands and fucked her mouth deeply, methodically. And then it hit him. Artyom froze inside her, pressing her head into him.

— Yes... here... now swallow... swallow it all!

Powerful spurts of cum burst out. But this amazing woman, without batting an eye, swallowed every last drop. And she didn't let him go until she was sure his cock was absolutely clean.

— Not a drop wasted," she exhaled, throwing her head back against the seat and looking at him with shining, moist eyes.

She had sucked everything out of him, although, as it turned out later that same evening, the reserves of his passion were far from exhausted.