Nina and I arrived on an AEROFLOT Tu-214 Friday at 6:38 PM Pacific Daylight Savings Time. After almost 12 hours on a plane it was wonderful to park my ass on a cushion that wasn't careening through the skies at 600 miles per hour and bouncing with every pocket of turbulence. When I unlocked the door to our room at the St. Max Hotel, one of San Francisco's finest, I sprinted to the bathroom in order to stake first claim on the shower.
The hot water dancing across my flesh sent minor shock waves throughout my body, and tingled to the deepest recesses between my legs. Nothing feels quite as good as the stiff spray of hot American water slapping at my body, especially when I could enjoy it at length. The water stinging my nipples caused me to suck in a sharp breath before I was able to relax and let the spray punish my wrinkled aureoles. I yanked the shower head out of the holster, spun the "Spray" ring to "Pulsate" and aimed it quickly at the wispy thin patch of dark hair that lay flat at the entrance to the "fun parts" of my body. The rhythm of the steaming jets pointing directly between my legs launched a shiver up my spine. A delicious pressure in my stomach twisted my insides little by little until I stood panting with one hand wrapped around the shower fixture so I wouldn't collapse.
Oops, I'm sorry. Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Karin Alena Kryckov, or as my first American boyfriend named me, Crybaby: after that film with Johnny Depp. I was born in the Ukraine and, while my father is a Russian diplomat and my mother British, I've grown up mainly between Kiev and Maryland, because of dad's position at the Russian consulate in DC. I graduated from high school just south of Baltimore.
Let me describe myself: I just turned 19, I'm 5 foot 6, about 105 pounds, slim hipped, fair complexion with shoulder length dark hair, bangs in front, green eyes, round, 32C cup, even teats, and my nips are very pink and they point up slightly, in the direction I'm walking. My wool, as they call in England or pubes in America, are dark but I don't have much hair anyplace except my head. Guys always tell me I'm very pretty, but guys will say anything to get their hand into a girl's pants. Guys are the same everywhere I guess, well, everywhere I've been. So why do I feel like I'm part of the homecoming queen's court? Because all my female friends are "goddess type" gorgeous, built like minks, and would fuck a guy into next week just to kill the afternoon.
Nina is the best looking of my girlfriends. Her mother was a Korean fashion model and her father was a Russian hockey player so to say she is athletic and beautiful is like saying Siberia is chilly in winter. The best thing about Nina is that she treats me like a princess between the sheets... a naughty princess. Nina is the Bruce Lee of mattress martial arts. And I am her willing apprentice.
I sucked in my lower lip as the spray nipped at my clitoris urging me closer to pure physical joy. My eyes were screwed shut and my knees began to tremble until I heard Nina bang on the door.
"Come on, you lil tramp! It's my turn," she shouted through the locked door in her lilting Russian accent.
I felt the pleasure I had built up slip away quickly when she rattled the doorknob loudly. Damn it! I was so close.
Toweling off, I let the fluffy terry cloth dig deep between my pussy lips. A sticky clear fluid lingered after my aborted courtship with the shower nozzle. I began scrubbing at myself vigorously until I was interrupted by Nina, once again, banging on the door.
Did she know when my body was responding to manual stimulation and decide that was the best time to disturb me?
"Oh..." the words caught in my throat as I tried to cover my embarrassment at being caught in the throes of self-stimulation, twice.
"Ahem, okay, okay. I'm almost done. Jesus..." I finished drying myself and unlocked the door. Nina brushed past me into the steam-filled bathroom.
"Whattu doin' in here, jerkin' off?" She tossed the comment over her shoulder as she leaned into the shower to turn it on full blast.
I shook my head. "Girls don't jerk off; they jerk in." Nina didn't understand the subtleties of American English as well as I did. She didn't even bother to turn her head at my comment.
"Yeah, go jerk outta here," she barked as she slid her stretch pants down her slim legs to her knees and plopped her butt onto the toilet seat. With a frustrated sigh I turned and wandered into the bedroom wearing only a towel while Nina kicked the door shut behind me.
Nina was a great friend but she could be a pain occasionally. At times, it seemed Nina's friends existed merely to attend to her sexual whims. Not that her carnal desires were at odds with mine, in fact, she had a crazy, but delightful, fascination with making people achieve monumental orgasms. A scrapbook on her coffee table was filled with photos of her friend's faces at that moment of maximum sexual gratification. Whether the person was caught at the peak of sexual congress or self-flagulation, Nina always found a way to satisfy her deep-seated wont to catalog each person's grotesque orgasm mask. It was a fascinating book really but I was a little uncomfortable when she offered to make copies for my father.
Dejectedly, I sat down on the edge of the bed and slid my palm over the slick satin material of the comforter. It felt like running water in my hand and I felt a familiar tingle between my thighs. Falling backwards onto the bed I let my fingers tiptoe to the dark stripe of hair that stood guard at the entrance to my sex. My fingers burrowed through the wispy jungle in search of my frustrated pussy. A stickiness held the lips of my sex shut briefly before yielding to my anxious finger. After my lips peeled apart slowly I tapped the moist center of my slit letting my lust slowly carry me aloft.
"Mmmm." I sighed and moaned at the same time as my middle finger slipped deeper inside me until my palm rested firmly against my mons. It felt wonderful to stroke my G-spot while the fleshy part of my hand mauled the nub of my clitoris. I was going up the ramp of pleasure faster this time than the previous two attempts.
I have become a connoisseur of orgasms. A good clitoral orgasm should start growing in a woman's lower back, right where I have two little dimples, just above the ass cheeks. Vaginal comes are much different.
My head began to swim with delight so I chose to ignore the knock at the hotel room door. With the second knock, my mind quickly returned to earth but I froze in hope that the person so rude as to interrupt my self-abuse would go away. They didn't. The door swung open wide. Peering up, I saw framed between my knees, a handsome young man wearing a hotel uniform.
His glance fell between my wide spread thighs and I began to thrash around on the bed like a shark in a mud puddle trying to cover my naked body, hoping he wouldn't ask me how I got half of my hand stuck inside my vagina. His face flushed crimson and he tried to look as if he hadn't noticed I was giving myself a gynecological exam when he burst in.
"Um, I'm sorry... I was looking for Nina," he stammered.
"Yeah," I mumbled. "You got the right room." Just the wrong time, I thought.
"I'll come back... um..." Easing himself back out the open door he was clearly disturbed, more so than me, it seemed.
Nina yanked the bathroom door open a crack and stuck her pouty lips out.
"Is dat da concierge?" she snapped through the stream that billowed out the opening.
"Yes ma'am," he shouted back.
"Wait! Be right out." She slammed the door shut leaving me to lounge in front of this man, while I wore nothing but a white towel and a red face.
He dropped his gaze towards the floor and poked his toe at the nap of the carpet.
"So, you're from Russia?" he queried without looking directly at me.
I noticed my pubic hair peeking out from the bottom of the towel.
"Um, yeah, sorta," I blurted out as I yanked the towel down to cover my still smoldering pussy. My gentle tug uncovered one breast. I was not having a good day.
Now, the young man turned his attention to the ceiling, searching for some relief from our embarrassing situation.
"Uh huh, that's um..." He stammered as he stood counting the pieces of crystal in the room's main light just as Nina crashed through the bathroom door wearing a bulky white robe courtesy of the hotel.
"Jesus! Whattu doin' out here, Cry?" Nina snapped as she glared at me suspiciously. I closed my eyes, pasted a weak smile on my lips, slid off the bed, and sidled into the bathroom to pout in solitude.
Once I got inside the steamy bathroom and slammed the door shut I realized my suitcase was in the other room. With my palms holding the edge of the sink I stared at the face coming into focus in the mirror as the dampness retreated off the glass towards the roaring vent. I didn't dare touch any "fun parts" of my body for fear that would somehow signal Nina to come searching for me, pounding on doors savagely while she shrieked some vague warning about a three-alarm blaze in the waste basket.
After several minutes I took a deep breath and readied myself for another session of peek-a-boo with the young man from the front desk. I swung the door open quickly hoping he might not notice the dark-haired girl wearing a towel, that didn't cover all of her womanly charms, struggling with an oversized suitcase.
There on the bed, was Nina kissing the guy with the gold braid on his hotel jacket. Shit! Now I would have to spend the next ninety minutes in the bathroom while Nina corrupted the morals of some unsuspecting comrade worker. I moved as quietly as I could clutching at my too small towel but quickly realized the pair was more interested in their carnal calisthenics. The man turned his face slightly and smiled at me with a sweet face that stopped me dead in my tracks.
"Sorry, I interrupted you earlier. If I'd known what Nina wanted I would've made you more comfortable."
"That's okay," I replied, trying to act casual about getting caught in the act of masturbation in a foreign city by a complete stranger. Did I tell him that was an old Russian custom? No. Instead I opted to throw my hands up and shrug thus allowing my towel to drop several inches. Quickly, I snatched it back up to cover my exposed breasts. He smiled at that. Damn, he was cute!
"That's a hand towel." He snickered.
"Sure, I knew that," I blurted out, while inside I cursed the genetic defect that turned me into an idiot every time I was in the presence of a cute guy.
"Cry, take off da towel an' come here," Nina ordered with sex dripping from each syllable. The young man extended his open hand towards me as I approached the bed.
"Blaire," he piped up.
I shook my head, unsure of what he meant.
"My name. It's Blaire."
Now, I shook my head to acknowledge his introduction while the rest of my body stood frozen, held fast in some kind of "retard ray-beam." Maybe it was Blaire's other hand under Nina's robe massaging her bum or Blaire's sweet grin that made my mind go defective but I couldn't seem to jump start it again.
"Dat's Karin. Ever'body call her Crybaby," Nina said as she mashed Blaire's face back into her terry cloth covered breasts.
"Hi, Crybaby," came a muffled reply from Nina's ample bosom. Nina looked at me and flipped her head as a signal for me to join in. I felt my eyes grew wide at her request and I mouthed the words, "I want him," even though I was still reeling from the effects of my imbecile episode.
"Come. Him for boat of us," she remarked glibly. The head pressed between her breasts nodded agreement from deep inside her titty sandwich. I couldn't help myself. A giggle slipped out and I dropped my towel so I could grab a handful of Blaire's behind. It was firm and Nina winked at me to say, "Not a bad hunk of man-flesh, after only a couple of hours in a foreign country, huh?"
I grabbed his arm and jerked him towards me to test the extent of our "shared" boy-toy. His tussled hair made him look even more cute.
Nina sat up against the headboard and barked orders at Blaire.
"Strip, lil man. I wantchu new-born nekid." She had a nasty growl in her voice that I had never heard before but I had never been around her when she was using a concierge from a four-star hotel in San Francisco as a sexual appliance before. "Using" was the right word, too. This poor guy would never know what hit him, I guarantee it. Nina was an animal between the sheets. A wild animal. She and I had been together numerous times and she always wore me out.
Blaire peeled off his clothes quickly and then stood naked beside the bed. His cock was nice sized, not too big nor too small. It pointed straight away from his slim stomach at half mast. Nina tugged me to the bedside and massaged my shoulders to give me encouragement while she whispered instructions into my ear.
"Okay, Crybaby. Here we go. I wantchu to sock this guy's dick, off his'a body." She giggled as she finished. I smacked my lips but wasn't sure I could do exactly what she asked. Nina knew I didn't have much experience giving blow jobs so she started her "oral basic training" by giving me an instructional pep talk in an art she was well-versed.
"Sock in easy, den get com-fort-able wit it in jour mout. Den we go to da next step." She spoke softly into my ear before she glared directly at Blaire, narrowed her eyes, and snarled through her clenched teeth, "You... just standt der and don't you dare come." This last part sounded more like a threat than anything else. Regardless of the intent, Blaire nodded enthusiastically. He may not have been "in heaven" but he could have jismed on it from where he stood.
I swallowed hard and knelt down so my face was even with his cock. It pointed straight at me and I opened my mouth wide enough to encircle his glans. He had a nice smooth cock without that "angry look" that some men had: you know, that mean looking red head that's kind of scary. This one looked like a friend. A good friend. I giggled again as tightened my lips around the head of it. When I glanced up I saw Blaire's head fall back onto his shoulders, his face pointing back at the chandelier, again. Men are so easy.
Suddenly, I was revisiting my introduction to the erect penis. It was the Saturday before All Saint's Eve last year, and all I could think about was that line from an Elvis Costello song: "she thought that I knew and I thought that she." My boyfriend squirted three times but I still wasn't contented. I think he would've shot three more times to try and please me. He was sweet and beautiful. If he had had a triple digit I.Q. I would have stayed with him for a whole week. Instead I ended up at Nina's door, red-faced begging her to paddle my bum and call me names. I like that stuff, too.
I guess I should be embarrassed by my sexual triflings, but my mum taught me one important thing about sex: Never apologize, lay blame, instead. So, my upbringing must have taught me to worship at the alter of a girl like Nina, who would spank my bottom briskly and tell me I was unworthy of her attention.
During our sessions I always ended up in tears slapping my tongue between her thighs until she would squeal with delight. Then she would bang that big black dildo of hers inside me, beating my cervix with it like it owed her money. Afterwards, I would usually lay on her bed sobbing and offering her my complete devotion. Nina, of course, would furrow her brow and tell me our sex was "just for fun." She held no pretense about her inability to stay loyal to one person any longer than it took for her to come and snap a couple of photos. And I've been friends with her longer than anybody.
Blaire's erection fit nicely in my mouth and with Nina's coaching I felt like I was getting the hang of this.
"Now, dis time let 'em bump into...um da back of jour t'roat but breathe t'rough jour nose so jou won gag." Nina's breath on my neck was almost as exciting as having Blaire's weiner dog sliding along my lips. Concentrating on breathing through my nose I was able to let this cutie bounce his dick off my tonsils like a professional. I liked this act and was ready for the next scene.
I swallowed hard and asked with a slurp, "Okay, what's my next task?" Nina smiled at me with that wide mouth of hers and pulled my face to hers with her hand wrapped around the back of my neck. A stiff tongue split my lips apart and dug deep inside my mouth in search of mine. When they met, a wrestling contest followed to rival any WWE grudge match. I moaned in excitement as her pink wet flesh slapped playfully at my tongue. God, that girl can kiss!
"Can I have some too? Can I, can I?" Blaire sounded like an anxious little boy and Nina giggled at his request. Her smile faded into a smoldering leer.
"Crybaby need jour tongue to make her feel like voman." Nina lingered on every syllable and Blaire fell to the floor, his tongue pointing upward like a geyser of flesh. "Jou may suit her needs nicely, lil' man."
Blaire made some silly sounds that resembled words, but with his tongue fully extended, came out more like a Islamic call to worship... and I was ready to pray. I almost collapsed, pussy first, on to this cute guy's tempting tongue. It danced in the air like one of those cobras that Indian snake charmers coax out of a basket. It slipped between my increasingly sticky lips and went hunting for my clit. Nina knew when Blaire's tongue cornered its prey because my entire body shivered and I tried to say something like, "This might be a fascinated exchange of cultural ideologies on international sexual gratification between comrade workers." But it came out more like, "Oh, shee... moof, geesh gah!"
The next thing I knew, Nina had her sweet pussy inches from my face and she was ordering me to "please" her like the "unwort'y insect" that I was. I devoured her sexual offered. Like a starving trout after a cricket, I tried to consume this woman starting with her slippery puss.
I was weeping, laughing, licking, rocking my hips, squealing, healing... I was, in fact, doing everything but singing Psalms (I can never remember the words when someone is soundly cuffing my clit with their tongue). I may have been happier in my life, but I couldn't remember when. Pleasing, Nina has always filled me with delight and Blaire was enthusiastically pursuing his oral duties.
Nina looks very different from me. She is 24 years old, 5 foot 9, 135 pounds with large round 36 D breasts. Her nipples kind of point to either side and her aureoles are very big ovals and, I must admit, quite tasty. They taste kind of like candy you might find in your pants' pocket after a couple of weeks. She has comfy hips, wider than mine, her hair is dyed a new color every time I see her and she shaves everything. I mean everything. I tried that once and first few day days were wonderful but when it started to grow back it felt like I was sitting on porcupine. Her stomach is flat as a washboard, while my tummy has a little swell that starts just above my bellybutton and ends right... well, you know where.
Nina is slightly sloe-eyed with full rich lips. The first time I kissed those sweet dark lips I thought I would faint. A gentle suction pulled my bottom lip inside her mouth and I swore, then and there, she could use me like cheap perfume, as much as she wanted and where-ever she wanted. She is so beautiful, I have seen men walk into trees staring at her.
Now Nina wanted to try something different with her two play things.
"Up on jour feet, boat of jou," she barked out. Blaire and I jumped to our feet as ordered. Patting the bed, Nina invited Blaire to sit next to her while I was left alone and naked as the day I was born in front of the the pair.