Prelude to Summer Vacation
My relationship with Lyudmila is anything but ordinary. While we were married, everything was normal, but after we divorced...
Right after the court proceedings (we have two children), I moved to a different apartment. A week later, my ex-wife ended up in my bed. We fucked like it was the first time. She didn't stay overnight often: once a month, maybe every two months. Once, we had her together with one of my friends. To offers of sleeping with anyone else, Lyuda responded with a categorical refusal. But a year later, she suggested we go to Sochi together.
We were incredibly lucky: the grandmothers were looking after the kids, and for some reason, no one was assigned to our train compartment. Although, to be honest,
for that pleasure, I paid the conductor the price of a ticket: in those days, there were no computers on the railways. I hadn't even heard of them. I'd only seen them at the factory where I worked—an operations hall filled with huge computer cabinets.In the compartment, I immediately took out a bar of chocolate and a small bottle of cognac, while Lyudmila had her usual travel set: fried chicken, hard-boiled eggs, bread with butter and cheese. We drank cognac, snacking on chocolate. The chicken, wrapped in foil, gradually cooled. Then we both got up and headed to the vestibule to smoke.
That's where we met two guys, friends Oleg and Yura. Yura was going on vacation with his wife and had invited Oleg: three is more fun anyway. We smoothly moved from the vestibule to our compartment. We quickly finished our cognac, and Oleg bought a bottle of vodka from the conductor. That's when the cooled chicken came into play. After a while, Yura went to his wife, Oleg and I went to smoke, and Lyudmila stayed in the compartment. Word by word, we ended up in the restaurant. Alcohol was still served freely back then (these were still pre-Gorbachev times), and our sitting dragged on. About an hour and a half later, I said goodbye to Oleg and went to my compartment. The door opened only about five centimeters: it was latched from the inside. No one turned at the noise. Only rapid male breathing and Lyudmila's quiet moans could be heard. Through the crack, I could see someone naked, diligently working on my ex. I was stunned. The man got up and stepped aside. In the semi-darkness, I barely made out Lyudmila, her eyes blissfully closed, pressing one leg against the compartment wall and dangling the other from the bunk.
What I saw completely shocked me. Thanks to her widely spread legs, her slit formed a large triangle, completely hairless. I must say, she had never shaved before; a few curly hairs often peeked out from under her swimsuit. I had told her more than once: "If you're going to take your panties off in front of a man, a hairy vagina is unlikely to arouse him. But a shaved pussy looks charming." She never took her panties off in front of men: usually, either I or whoever was keeping me company would take them off. Before our eyes was a pubic area overgrown with black, hairy curls. The thought that she had shaved in advance, anticipating sex with another man, was a huge turn-on: she only gave herself to my friends after my long persuasions. And even then, not always. But without me, she never fucked anyone on the sly. And I felt a terrible pang of jealousy. A door opened somewhere nearby, and quietly, trying not to make noise, I closed the compartment and went to the vestibule.
About ten minutes later, Lyudmila and Yura peeked in.
— Where have you been?" she asked. "Right after you left, Yura came. His wife fell asleep, and he got bored.
— Oleg and I were in the restaurant. What were you doing?" I asked, trying to hide a new wave of jealousy and arousal.
— We drank tea and talked.
I stayed silent. And invited Yura to our compartment: "Let's buy another bottle?" He reluctantly agreed. We checked with the conductor and got another bottle of "Russkaya"...
On the table, there were indeed two empty glasses, inserted into glass holders as was customary on trains back then. We sat next to Lyudmila (she was already in her robe), Yura opposite. Feeling my member rising again, I closed the door and latched it. Drunken conversation ensued, gradually turning to the topic of sex.
— Yura, honestly, do you like my Lyuda?
He flushed deeply and forced out: "Of course, I like her."
— Do you know how beautiful her breasts are? Big, soft, size four. A small mole on the left. Want to see? Lyudochka, let's do something nice for the man!
Not waiting for her reaction, I pulled her breast out, as if scooping water with my palm. I had done this more than once with those I wanted to have my ex-wife. And although I didn't always achieve my goal, Lyudmila never objected to exposing her breasts: she was frankly proud of them. But this time, she blushed and tried to cover her nipple with her palm. Then I opened her robe and pulled out the other breast.
— Look, Yur, what beauty! Kiss it if you want!
The guy leaned over and took the nipple with his lips. I lifted Lyudmila's ass and sharply pulled down her panties. A matte, gleaming shaved pubis was revealed.
— Lyudochka! Clever girl! What a good girl you are! Finally shaved. Smooth!" — I ran my palm over her lips, simultaneously penetrating the cleft between them with my index finger. — "And how wet she is! Already aroused?
Lyuda stayed silent, and I took Yura's hand and placed it on the red mound at the bottom of my ex-wife's stomach: "Feel how wet it is?"
The guy tensed up: he clearly expected a confrontation. But I got up from my seat, threw a blanket from the top bunk onto the floor, and gently, tenderly kissing Lyuda, laid her on it. Yura, understanding what was happening, squeezed in on one side between the bunk and Lyudmila, and I, turning her face toward the guy, on the other. We didn't have to caress her for long: my ex-wife had been wet for quite some time and abundantly, though she had clearly washed up after the earlier sex. I took her from behind but came quickly: it was awkward in the tight space. Then I zipped up my pants and peeked into the corridor: everyone had been asleep for a long time. And I left, taking my cigarettes.
In the vestibule, a bored Oleg was smoking. We smoked, chatting about something.
— Ah, I'd love to stick it to a woman right now!" I threw in.
— But you're alone with Lyuda in the compartment.
— Yura's drilling her right now. Want to join?
Oleg looked at me in surprise, not knowing if I was joking or serious.
— Come on. She's my ex. And Yura already managed to fuck her while we were sitting in the restaurant.
— Really?!
— Let's go!
He immediately threw away his cigarette...
The lovebirds who had moved to the bunk had forgotten to close the door, and Oleg and I barged into the compartment. Yura turned around, confused.
— Keep going, don't be shy," I said, lowering the latch. "And we'll wait for you to finish.
In Sochi, we stayed in a private apartment. Naturally, we slept together, but Lyuda didn't let me near her for a whole week. After that, I had her only once, and then I invited Oleg over (the guys had left their contact info). For the rest of the vacation, we used my ex-wife together. A couple of times, he even tried to take her right in the sea (it didn't work out too well—the water was a bit cold for sex). Yura also participated in our fun once. How he explained his two-hour absence to his wife, I can't even imagine.
The vacation ended, and we returned home. Lyudmila again stayed overnight at my place no more than once a month. And for a whole year, she only agreed to a threesome once, although I repeatedly tried to get her to sleep with my buddies. It seems group sex is only possible for her with strangers.