I am 36 from Mumbai. It was a one of those hot afternoons, a holiday, I was in my shorts and a T-shirt and I was half asleep when the bell rang
I am 36 from Mumbai. It was a one of those hot afternoons, a holiday, I was in my shorts and a T-shirt and I was half asleep when the bell rang
My husband, as usual, gets together with friends for a beer after work and comes home at about 8 o'clock... and usually in a normal state... and that day they had some kind of drinking party at work on the occasion of the delivery of a very important facility, I call and he tells me that he will be there in half an hour, I hear in the receiver that there is no voice at all, then someone takes the phone
It happened a few years ago. My name is Artem. I finished school in my small village, passed the Unified State Exam and somehow miraculously entered a university in Omsk, the regional center. At that time, I was 18 years old. Moving was a way of life for me, otherwise I would have stayed in my village forever
Tying up my blonde hair in front of the gym mirror. Noticing the horny guys checking me out. My cuckold boyfriend at work and his friend looking at me like a pervert, dying to fuck me all over again.
When I asked to see the photos from the shoot, I saw that Maha was hesitant, unsure whether to hand over her phone. She said:
I’m a 32-year-old art teacher at a local community college, and I’ve always kept things strictly professional with my students. That changed last semester with Ethan, a quiet 20-year-old in my evening drawing class. He was talented, intense, always sitting in the front row sketching with complete focus. He had messy dark hair, sharp features, and these piercing gray eyes that seemed to follow me whenever I walked around the studio giving feedback.
I never imagined I’d let it go that far with my manager, but it happened a few weeks ago during an overnight shift at the office. I’m 27, been working as a marketing coordinator for the company for three years, and David has been my direct boss the whole time. He’s 38, confident, sharply dressed, with that authoritative tone that always made my stomach tighten a little. We’d flirted harmlessly for months: lingering looks during meetings, late-night texts about work that slowly turned personal, compliments that felt too intimate.