The Magical World of BDSM. Andrey Ganesha
she was just using this unlikely way to search for someone to marry. To say that I was disappointed is to say nothing. Asking for her phone number, I kissed her on the cheek, knowing that I would never call her again.
So, things were not easy for me at that time, BDSM-wise. I wanted some variety in my sex life, but nothing came of it. My work sucked me into the usual routine. One day, when I came to work, I found my mother’s friend Liudmila Andreevna there. She was ten years older than me, which means that she was 42 years old then – the beautiful Ukrainian with fifth-size boobs has long been living in my fantasies, but I could never arrange to stay with her alone.
In addition, there was one more circumstance that prevented me from getting close to Liudmila. Four years ago, after my birthday, I kissed her fifteen-year-old daughter. These were passionate and forbidden kisses of an adult man and an adolescent, reaching out to adulthood. In my defense, I would like to say that her daughter Oksana, despite her young age, was already quite experienced in amorous affairs. Our embraces were interrupted by the doorbell, as both our mothers stood on the threshold. My affair with “Lolita” broke off before it even began. But it was nice to feel a strong teenage passion, which gave a taste of something forbidden to our kisses. But even then, I would have referred her mommy, no doubts about that.
And so, when I saw the object of my adoration, I approached Liudmila and began stroking her neck.
– What a beautiful breast you have, anyone would go crazy over it, – I said, realizing the clumsiness of this compliment.
– Not just my breast, honey – Liudmila reacted.
Liudmila constantly eluded my kisses in the neck area and even moved over to another computer, but I continued my pursuit. Having unbuttoned a few buttons on her white blouse and shifted slightly her bra, I first began blowing warm air onto her nipple, and then I bit into it with my lips. Liudmila turned pink but did not retreat anymore. Having kissed her breasts and received a full aesthetic sexual pleasure, I was ready to stop there. But then Liudmila took the initiative, ordering me to undress. What differentiates a woman in her forties old from a woman in her twenties is that she actually goes consistently to the end. Locking the door, which has been open all this time, I began to undress. Now it was Liudmila who was kissing me all over. I was very happy, happy enough that even the colors of the surrounding world somehow changed. I was seeing everything in a somewhat pinkish hue from now on.
Liudmila laid down on the office table and told me to do whatever I wanted with her. Trembling a little with excitement, I penetrated her. At the very end, Liudmila was moaning sweetly, constantly repeating: “Darling, dear”. When it was over, she said to me: “Now, that’s a man!”
I was proud of myself, it seemed to me that all my sufferings of the last months were not in vain, and even for that fight in the train with the cops heaven finally sent me a reward. Although our first sex with Liudmila was somewhat crumpled and not entirely successful, the emotions of gratitude overwhelmed me. At that moment it became clear that I was not ready for any BDSM, that it was enough for me to just feel the warmth of a woman.
“Volchat” Chat Room
I got acquainted with the world of virtual BDSM at the beginning of the century in a chat called “Volchat”. For me, then, it was somewhat strange that even in the virtual space people would build a strong hierarchy with pronounced leaders and the crowd that follows them. Each new participant who joined the chat will be subjected to a moral humiliation test and will have to prove that he is able to take a stand for himself.
Dialogues about sex, domination and perverted love reign supreme in the chat. Perverts, in contrast to the real world, can safely voice their sexual fantasies, since they are highly passionate and attractive and have long since seized the chat in their hands. Therefore, I feel quite comfortable here. I even have a virtual wife – Pauline Hard. Together with her and her friend Stingy, we are voicing our sexual fantasies for the whole virtual room to hear. We like to talk about indulging in all sorts of sex. In the virtual world, neither Pauline nor Stingy are afraid of sexual experiments, be it lesbian love or even anal sex. As it turned out later, there are few things that frighten them in reality either. Thus, Stingy left her husband and went to live with her girlfriend. And Pauline and I were bound to experience a short-time real romance.
There was a client from Samara in our company, and Pauline just happened to live there. I did manage to arrange a trip to Samara and, grabbing a ticket to “Moscow-Samara” train, one April morning I went to see my virtual wife. My neighbors in the compartment were a colonel of the then militia and a Tartar guy from Penza. The colonel told colorful stories about the clashes of football fans, about how their corpses are fished in the river in spring, and the Tartar told about his passion for historical fencing. As for me, I had almost nothing to remember, right from the beginning of the nineties it seemed so unlikely that a handful of assholes would privatize the whole country and would keep such unjust power for such a long time. I kept thinking that everything was about to collapse, and normal, adequate people would come to power, but time passed and nothing changed. The people themselves changed, and what yesterday was a crime became valor today. The concept of good and justice ceased to exist. I drowned my depression in alcohol or tried to fill the void with short-term relationships with women, but the melancholy did not go away and my relations with women did not gel.
The train turned out to be not very convenient, as I spent almost twenty four hours on my way to Samara. I was rewarded, though, meeting Dasha – the real name of the virtual Pauline – at the station’s cafe. The meeting was somewhat strained. It’s one thing to discuss all these tits and pussies in a chat room, but it’s completely another thing to meet in real life, when it suddenly turns out that, despite a couple of years of virtual dating, in reality, you have nothing to say to each other. After the dinner, Dasha pulled out, promising to come and meet me in the evening. I was perfectly happy with that because I had to appear at the client and find a place to stay. Besides, Dasha had to invent something, a reason as to why she would be absent at night. At that time she lived with some local biker. I, too, was a bit married and, in addition to a virtual wife, I had a real, legitimate spouse.
In the evening, while waiting for my virtual girlfriend, I bought beer and martini. I did not plan to drink myself, as I still had to work. Dasha was not late and arrived, as agreed, at six in the evening. The factory that received me as a guest, gave me a spacious two-bedroom apartment nearby. After two glasses of martini and a light snack at half past six, Dasha and I lay in bed. She let me do anything with her. As for me, I felt somewhat insecure, hugging and kissing Dasha, because she was practically unfamiliar to me, a stranger. Dasha silently and obediently accepted my petting and penetrations. In order to cause at least some reaction, I even tried to penetrate her ass, which, however, did not cause any objections on her part. It’s not that Dasha did not experience an orgasm, she did experience it but the whole action was passing in some kind of tense silence for me. In the morning we had a warm farewell, all the same, as such erotic adventures were still pretty rare in our lives.
The next evening, while waiting for Dasha and in order to remove this tense silence, in addition to martini and a lot of beer, I bought vodka for myself. After using alcohol, I became talkative and was not happy with just silent sex anymore. And then alcohol played a bad joke with me. I wanted some emotions from Dasha in addition to obedient sex, and in order to provoke them, and finding nothing better, I said: “Maybe we should get married?” From this moment our sex, indeed, became much more fun, as Dasha was ready to forgive everything, including the fact that I drank a bottle of vodka and ten bottles of beer. The poor thing had not seen such heavy drinking even from her biker guy, and now, to our common misfortune, she met a charming drunk bastard. Since it was Friday, I allowed myself a lot more than I really needed. All night and the next day we indulged in petting and drinking,