Chapter 4. Arab Potion

In the erotic theater that was premiering on the first floor of Larisa’s country house, an intermission was clearly approaching. The tired performers began drifting toward the “buffet” — the windowsill, where imported booze and Russian liquor stood mixed together. The heroine of the stage was carefully carried over and laid on the sofa to catch her breath and come to her senses. Olya tried to take a drag from the hookah, but it had already gone out and produced nothing but a quiet gurgle.

“Lora, where can I wash up?” Olya asked wearily.

She wasn’t even trying to cover herself: she was half-lying on the sofa with her legs spread wide apart in a very unladylike position. Even from the balcony, Andrey could see how swollen and red she was down there. He hurriedly wiped his cock on the curtain and quickly tucked himself back in.

“There’s a great jacuzzi bathtub on the second floor, ” Larisa said, throwing a short robe over her naked body. Louis helped her tie it, simultaneously giving her breasts a quick inspection for firmness. “Go and relax. We still have the whole night ahead of us — that was just the warm-up!”

Olya glanced upward, and Andrey ducked down like a schoolboy caught peeking into the girls’ bathroom by a strict teacher.

“Alright, I’ll go lie down, ” Olya said, throwing some piece of clothing over herself to somewhat cover her charms, and got up from the sofa.

Andrey panicked. He had never been so close to getting caught. On all fours, trying not to knock his knees on the parquet, he rushed toward the staircase and practically tumbled down it. I’m supposed to be fishing, a frightened voice inside him said. I’m not supposed to be here at all. Andrey carefully peeked into the yard: no one was there except for a stray cat on the fence, which froze in terror at his sudden appearance. Only the security cameras remained indifferent to his hasty escape. Andrey grabbed his backpack and rod case and headed toward the main entrance of the house, feeling like a complete idiot. I didn’t go fishing, and I didn’t get laid! I’m having a wonderful time at the dacha, he thought sarcastically, but it didn’t make him feel any better.

The multinational group had scattered in different directions: Louis disappeared into the shower cabin on the first floor, Aziz and Jafar took the giggling Maria by the arms and headed to the backyard for a cool shower under the awning by the pool, while Dominique slipped into the sun-warmed water of the owner’s pool and swam toward the opposite side. Larisa was planning to go up to her friend on the second floor and lie with her in the jacuzzi — she couldn’t wait to discuss the international orgy that had just ended in the complete victory of orgasm over human reason.

But then Andrey appeared in the doorway with a grin stretching from ear to ear, looking somewhat like Gwynplaine.

Larisa stared at him blankly for a few seconds, as if trying to remember who this person was and what he was doing here. Then she smiled warmly and moved toward him with open arms.

“Oh... the fisherman is back! So where’s the fish?”

“In the sea, ” Andrey muttered, trying to dodge Larisa’s attempt to kiss him. She reeked of alcohol and cum. “Show me our room. I want to change and rest. I’m tired... from fishing.”

“Of course, darling, ” Larisa purred, giving him a meaningful look, then turned and headed up the stairs.

Andrey felt awkward, but he still couldn’t tear his eyes away from the arousing sight: as Larisa climbed the stairs in her short robe, she was flashing all her natural openings right in front of him. Between her full thighs, a plump, rosy “pie” was squeezed — the inviting slit of her pussy. Andrey followed her like the children followed the Pied Piper of Hamelin to their doom. Larisa glanced back and gave a sly smile at the effect she was producing.

“You’ll strain your eyes, ” she said, stopping for a moment to stretch sweetly, arching her back and pushing her ass out toward him.

“I’ll go see an ophthalmologist, he’ll fix it, ” Andrey replied, now openly staring at Larisa’s exposed crotch, which she was deliberately showing off.

“I’ll treat you myself, ” Larisa said as she continued up the stairs, “just say the word.”

“I have a wife for that purpose, ” Andrey parried, becoming involuntarily aroused. “She’s an excellent doctor, I’ll have you know.”

“I know, ” Larisa replied, reaching the second-floor corridor. “She already shared her... treatment experience with us.”

“When? Where?” Andrey asked, perfectly understanding what she was talking about.

“At one group therapy session, ” Larisa answered vaguely, and Andrey felt a pang in his stomach as memories of recent events flooded back. “Here’s your room with Olya, make yourself comfortable.”

The room Larisa pointed to was the first in a row of identical doors lining the second-floor corridor.

“You could at least put up a sign, ” Andrey grumbled as he carried the bags inside. “Otherwise it’s easy to get the wrong room.”

“It’s not a hotel. You’ll figure it out, ” Larisa replied dryly, then added, “I’m going to the bathroom to join your beloved. It’s right here on the second floor. Feel free to join us, ” she said, smiling at him.

“Thanks, I’ll think about it, ” he replied. After closing the door behind Larisa, he began undressing from his fishing uniform with pleasure.

“Well, look at that — she said it wasn’t a hotel, ” Andrey thought with satisfaction, finding a set of men’s pajamas laid out on the bed that fit him perfectly. He quickly put them on and glanced at himself in the mirror: a 43-year-old man of 180 cm and 92 kg stared back. He had an average build, though a small belly had already begun to appear. And that damn receding hairline was getting worse. He flexed his arm muscles, sucked in his stomach, frowned, and sighed heavily. “I’ll go see the girls, ” he thought, heading for the door, remembering Larisa’s invitation.

Finding the bathroom turned out to be easy — Andrey simply followed the sound of female moans coming from behind a half-open, semi-transparent door at the end of the corridor. Either someone’s feeling really bad in there, or really good, he thought, quickening his pace. When he reached the door, he knocked briefly. “It’s not locked!” came the reply from inside, and Andrey pushed the door open.

Larisa was sitting with her legs spread wide on the edge of a large jacuzzi that could easily fit four people, holding Olya’s head between her thighs. Olya noticed Andrey’s appearance out of the corner of her eye and jerked, trying to pull away from the compromising position. But Larisa didn’t let her go — she grabbed Olya’s hair and firmly pressed her face back to her crotch.

Olya’s ass was sticking up out of the water, covered in slowly drying flakes of soap foam. After what he had seen from the balcony, Andrey shouldn’t have been surprised by anything anymore, but he still froze: this was essentially the first time he had openly watched his wife licking another woman’s pussy. It turned him on, and he quickly covered the front of his pajama pants with his hands.

“What are you staring at? Pick your jaw up off the floor. It’s not like it’s the first time, ” Larisa smirked, then beckoned him with her finger. “Come here! We’ll treat you.”

Andrey, like a sleepwalker, walked toward the jacuzzi and stopped in front of Larisa. She pulled down his pajama pants, and he stepped out of them, regretfully noting that they immediately got wet — the floor was covered in small puddles and splashes. Larisa took Andrey’s cock in her hands and began lathering it with foam from a pink tube. Andrey closed his eyes in pleasure, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Olya had stopped licking Larisa and was now staring wide-eyed at her friend’s actions.

“Come on, darling, don’t get distracted, ” Larisa said, pressing Olya’s lips back to her pussy. “What, you’ve never seen your husband’s cock before?” she added mockingly.

Olya mumbled something incoherent and dove back between Larisa’s thighs. Andrey heard wet sucking sounds coming from there.

“But he’s seen you in all your glory!” Larisa continued, giving Andrey a meaningful look.

“What are you talking about? When?” Olya asked, briefly surfacing from Larisa’s crotch.

“Today! He’s been watching you for the last couple of hours, ” Larisa said with a smirk, grabbing Olya by the hair and turning her face toward Andrey. “Look at this handsome man! Do you need any more proof?”

Andrey felt his face flush with shame, and there was nothing he could do about it. Fuck... How did it come to this? a weak thought flickered in his mind.

“I was fishing, ” Andrey answered unconvincingly, but his eyes made it clear he was lying.

“Yes, you did go fishing, ” Larisa said, slipping her hand between Olya’s legs. Despite the seriousness of the conversation, Olya squeezed her eyes shut in pleasure. “But you came back pretty quickly!”

“What makes you say that?” Andrey asked for the sake of appearances, already understanding he had been caught.

“The cameras! The cameras, my friend, told the whole truth about you!”

Larisa pulled the embarrassed Olya closer and planted a juicy kiss on her lips, glancing at Andrey. For a few moments Olya’s tense body showed reluctance and awkwardness, but then she wrapped her arms around her friend’s head and returned the kiss. They made out for so long that Andrey’s erect cock began to tingle — Larisa had soaped it but hadn’t rinsed it off. Finally, the women pulled away from each other.

“Alright, my dear, customs gives the green light, ” Larisa said, turning to Andrey. “Bring your poor sufferer over here!”

Larisa carefully rinsed Andrey’s still-hard cock under the shower and licked the head as if checking the quality of the washing by taste. Satisfied, she turned off the water and took his cock deep into her mouth, almost to the balls, and held it there. Andrey felt Larisa making swallowing movements with her throat, squeezing his shaft all around. It was pure mastery! Olya watched the process intently, biting her lip with impatience.

“Go on, suck your husband’s cock, and make it good!” Larisa ordered, releasing Andrey’s cock from her mouth. Thick saliva dripped onto her breasts. “He’s had a hard time... fishing and all.”

Olya got on her knees and looked up at Andrey with a lustful smile.

“Stop grinning and start sucking!” Larisa said, grabbing Andrey’s cock and forcefully shoving it into her friend’s mouth, pressing Olya’s head from the other side.

Olya began sucking diligently, glancing back and forth between Larisa and Andrey. Sometimes the hostess of the house would take over, and then Andrey would “fly to heaven” — it had been a long time since he’d received such a deep throat. But mostly it was Olya sucking while Larisa licked and sucked his balls, occasionally taking his entire sack into her mouth, which created a sweetly painful sensation.

Andrey enthusiastically thought that now was the perfect time to fuck Larisa. He had been having such sinful thoughts for a while — he had already “tasted” her mouth, and now it was time to taste everything else. But Larisa had other plans for him and his wife.

“Come on, my dear friend, get on all fours, ” Larisa said, pulling Olya away from Andrey’s cock by her hair. “Let your husband fuck you while I watch. And you can lick me properly!”

Olya obeyed Larisa without protest, as if the woman had some magical power over her. She turned toward Andrey, presenting her wet ass, and pressed her mouth to her friend’s well-fucked pussy. Andrey felt between her legs — it was sticky and slippery with her juices. Olya reached back, found his cock, pulled it toward her, and guided it into her pussy, pushing back to meet him. His cock slid effortlessly into her hot depths. Andrey began moving with pleasure, steadily driving his shaft into his wife’s cunt.

Larisa held Olya’s head firmly between her widely spread thighs, occasionally rocking her hips to fuck her friend’s mouth. Andrey kneaded Larisa’s breasts, which she willingly offered him, rolling the firm flesh between his fingers.

Their fucking was intense but not long-lasting. What finally pushed Andrey over the edge was what the women did next: at one point Larisa arched her hips forward, and a hot stream of piss hit Olya’s face. Olya, with her eyes closed, turned one cheek, then the other, under the flowing urine and smiled. Andrey thought he saw Olya open her mouth a few times to catch the warm, clear drops, but he couldn’t be completely sure.

He felt Olya tense up, clench her legs, and suddenly a hot stream began to flow down the inside of her thighs. He felt warm trickles running over his cock and balls, dripping onto the floor of the jacuzzi, and the faint smell of ammonia became clearly noticeable in the air. Olya moaned, arched her back, and slammed her pussy — now wet with piss — down hard onto her husband’s cock. Something tightened in Andrey’s chest, as if he had momentarily entered a zone of turbulence, and almost immediately he began furiously coming inside his wife, pressing his groin tightly against her wet, quivering thighs. Olya moved her hips upward, as if trying to collect every drop of the life-giving nectar and afraid to spill even one. Andrey felt Olya’s pussy clenching around him — she was deliberately contracting her muscles, trying to milk him completely dry. Then her body convulsed.

“That’s it, ” Andrey exhaled loudly, unable to remember the last time he had come so sweetly, and slowly withdrew from his wife.

“Let me rinse you, ” Larisa said, nodding at Andrey’s softening cock. “Then — march to the room! The girls need to take care of each other.”

“Can I watch?” Andrey asked, holding his spent cock under the warm streams of the refreshing shower and Larisa’s gentle hands.

“You’ll see plenty more, ” she smirked, cleaning his cock and bringing it back to a decent state. “Now go...”

Andrey left the bathroom with some regret and wandered back to the room completely naked, carrying his wet pajama pants to hang them up to dry.

“What a woman!” Andrey thought, remembering Larisa, her tits, and the sudden “golden shower” she had given. “Actually, both of them are amazing!” he added mentally with a smile, shrugging his shoulders. In the corridor he ran into the two Arabs wrapped in large bath towels. Andrey smiled shyly and covered himself with the wet bundle of pajama pants, backing toward his own door. The Arabs smiled back and nodded for some reason before disappearing into the neighboring room.

On the sideboard Andrey found an opened bottle of Jack Daniels and continued emptying it with pleasure, dropping a couple of ice cubes into the glass for decency — taken from the mini-fridge built into the furniture unit. He sat down on the bed, listening for sounds from the bathroom, but heard nothing — it was too far from his room. Then Andrey lay down on the bed, spread out like a starfish, and began peacefully reflecting on the twists of fate.

It was strange, but only today, after witnessing the wild orgy in which his wife — thanks to Larisa — had played first violin, did he truly realize how much it turned him on. During that first encounter with his secret vices, generously seasoned with excellent Chilean wine, he still hadn’t fully comprehended the beauty of what was happening. He had mostly thrown himself into it out of fear and for the sake of company.

His wife had now become not only the object of his erotic fantasies and sexual practice — she had advanced far into this new sensual dimension for him, where lust ruled over reason, sweeping away all barriers of morality and decency. It was as if a whirlwind of obscene madness had swept him up, and he caught himself thinking that he was impatiently waiting to see just how deep Olya’s fall would go. He didn’t want to remain on the sidelines of this primal instinct — he wanted to be present and once again feel the pleasure that now enveloped him at the mere thought of... of the fact that...

Andrey listened: from behind the wall came some kind of commotion and... female moans. Like a released spring, he jumped up from the bed and decisively headed for the door, pulling on his fishing thermal underwear as he went. He recognized his wife’s voice. In the corridor Andrey quickly oriented himself: it was the Arabs’ room. While he was deciding whether to knock or simply burst in with the shout “What the fuck, didn’t expect me?!”, the door opened and Larisa appeared on the threshold: she was completely naked and holding some kind of small bottle in her hand.

“Oh, perfect timing!” Larisa said quickly. “Could you run downstairs and bring the essential oils? They’re in the box in front of the TV — there’s a little bottle... Actually, just bring the whole box!”

“What’s going on in here?” Andrey asked, craning his neck to look inside the room.

“Nothing special, ” Larisa replied, stepping aside slightly. “We’re just giving your Olya a massage after her bath. And we need more oil.”

Andrey saw his wife behind Larisa, lying completely naked on her stomach on a high massage table. An Arab — it looked like Jafar — was sitting on top of her, massaging her back. In front of Olya stood Aziz, massaging the back of her head and rhythmically pressing her face into his crotch. He was naked from the waist up but still wearing his traditional baggy pants. There was a long, wet sucking sound followed by Olya’s moan, and it finally dawned on Andrey what was really happening. He looked at Larisa defiantly and tried to step inside. She blocked his way, placing a hand on his chest and gently squeezing his genitals.

“It’s just a massage. Go get the oil. You haven’t missed anything yet, ” she said softly, rubbing her bare breasts against him. “Your turn will come soon.”

Andrey stepped back and hurried downstairs, taking the steps three at a time. He was starting to shake from everything he had seen and didn’t want to miss a single second. Downstairs, Louis and Dominique were sprawled on the sofa watching something on a tablet and quietly talking with Maria, who was sitting at their feet slowly stroking their thick cocks. Occasionally she would lean in and suck on one black cock, then the other, taking their large heads into her mouth. Andrey shuddered as he imagined those massive poles inside a woman’s body.

He grabbed the box of Eastern oils and ran back upstairs.

“Viva la sexualidad de las nias rusas!” [Long live the sexuality of Russian girls! Spanish.] Dominique shouted after him, and Maria waved the stripper’s cock at Andrey while keeping Louis’s in her mouth.

“E-e-e... Venceremos!” [We shall overcome! Spanish.] Andrey shouted back, raising his clenched fist in a gesture from his Komsomol childhood.

The Dominicans neighed like horses, and Louis nodded so vigorously that Andrey was afraid his curly head might fall off. Racing upstairs, Andrey hurried toward the cherished door, behind which the Eastern brothers were massaging his wife with aromatic oils so diligently that they had already run out. He entered the Arabs’ room without knocking and nearly stumbled in surprise: the Arab stallions were double-teaming Olya’s body, engaged in some kind of magical ritual.

Olya was lying on her back — this could be determined by her breasts, which Aziz and Jafar were kneading with four hands. The rest of his wife’s body was hidden one way or another by the Bedouins. Aziz was sitting on Olya’s hips, and from his unmistakable movements it was clear that the massage had moved into the phase of deep vaginal penetration — how he managed to bend like that was known only to Allah. Jafar was squatting over Olya’s face, and it was impossible to tell exactly what was happening there.

The two acrobat brothers leaned their foreheads together and muttered something in a droning chant. All doubts were dispelled by Larisa, who stood behind Jafar, massaging his balls with her hand. She peeked out from behind the Arab’s back, kissed him several times, and said:

“Come on, my friend, now give him your ass — and make sure you lick it properly!” She nibbled at the groove between Jafar’s shoulder blades, making him twitch and mutter something displeased. “I want them to really enjoy themselves here! And don’t forget his balls!”

“He’s really hairy, ” Olya’s voice sounded muffled and unclear. “My mouth is already full of hair.”

“Spit it out and keep licking!” Larisa raised her voice, then noticed Andrey standing there like a stone statue from Easter Island, holding the box. “Bring it here!” she said, scratching the Arab’s back. “Jafar, ” she called softly.

The Arab turned, peeling his forehead away from his fuck-buddy’s, and looked at Andrey. His glassy, somehow extinguished gaze expressed nothing. He extended his hand, and Andrey, as if in a trance, handed him the box filled with fragrant contents. After a quick glance at the vials and bottles, Jafar sniffed and unerringly fished out a small, moss-covered flask from the bottom of the box. I think that’s the offspring of that green poison bottle they treated us to at the table, Andrey thought. So that’s how they come into the world.

Jafar set the box of essential oils aside and passed the flask behind him to Larisa. While she opened it, the Arab rose slightly, and Andrey saw Jafar’s purplish cock, pulsing as it hovered over his wife’s stomach. An indescribable spicy aroma filled the room. Larisa quickly smeared a few drops of the ancient artifact onto Jafar’s cock, reaching between the Arab’s legs. Jafar lifted Olya’s legs upward and spread them wide. Larisa took hold of one leg from the side of the massage table, while the other remained in the “druid’s” hands.

Andrey still couldn’t fully believe what was happening here and that he was actively participating in it. His cock, hardened from unrestrained desire and a surge of blood, stuck out like a pole through his thermal underwear, but Andrey paid it no attention: he was completely absorbed in the scene. He wanted this. He had sought this. He had fantasized about this. And now it was really happening.

When the physical contact between the two Arab foreheads was broken, Aziz climbed off Olya’s face and moved to her head, slowly rubbing his genitals across her cheeks and lips. Olya tried to dodge his balls, covered in dark coarse hair, while attempting to catch the Arab’s cock with her mouth. When she succeeded, she sucked his tool in, vibrating her tongue along the frenulum and not releasing the head from her lips — this was visible from the trembling of her neck and chin. Sometimes Aziz would turn Olya’s head to the side and drive his cock all the way to the root, making several powerful thrusts at the limit. Olya gagged but continued sucking.

Andrey couldn’t understand why his wife didn’t pull Aziz’s cock out when it became too much for her, until he noticed with astonishment that Olya’s wrists were strapped to the massage table with Velcro restraints.

“Go hold her leg, ” Larisa said, addressing Andrey. “She’ll thrash around at first. But once it hits her, you can let go.”

“What’s going to hit her?” Andrey asked, not understanding, as he approached the table.

“You’ll see, ” Larisa replied. She grabbed Jafar’s cock and skillfully inserted it somewhere into Olya.

Andrey took hold of his wife’s leg and gently stroked it.

“Darling, ” Olya whispered, looking at Andrey with glazed eyes, “you have no idea how I...”

She didn’t finish. Her body suddenly arched like a bow, and if it had’t been for the restraints on her wrists and Larisa and Andrey holding her legs, she would have inevitably broken free and fallen to the floor. Aziz pressed her head down against the table, having prudently removed his cock from her mouth to avoid injury. Olya rasped, her eyes rolled back, waves of goosebumps and convulsions ran across her body, and she arched, trying to throw off her “rider.”

For a moment it seemed to Andrey that an unbroken wild mustang was thrashing on the table in front of him, like at an American rodeo. But the rider didn’t disappoint: Jafar continued to fuck Olya, driving some kind of Eastern potion into her with his wiry cock. And gradually Olya began to calm down. First the convulsive contractions of her body stopped, then the hair on her body stopped standing on end as if she were being electrocuted. Then, at first timidly and then with increasing confidence, Olya began to push back against Jafar, trying not to fall out of the rhythm he had set.

Andrey watched in amazement as his wife, like a master of rhythmic gymnastics, virtuosically writhed beneath the Arab who was fucking her, trying to touch him with every cell of her body.

“Legs off!” she suddenly rasped, jerking them in the air and then tightly wrapping them around the Arab’s ass, pressing her mound firmly against his hips.

Olya began to respond with concentrated, counter movements of her hips to every thrust from Jafar. Then she licked her lips and her eyes sparkled with hunger.

“Give it to me, ” she said to Aziz. She lifted her head, found his cock, and took it deep into her mouth. The Arab had kept it hard the entire time Olya was dealing with the hurricane-like effect of the mysterious Eastern lubricant. “Mmm... this is amazing, ” she moaned between sucks on Aziz’s cock. “Incredible sensations! Lora! You absolutely have to try this!”

“I already have, ” Larisa replied, massaging Jafar’s balls. “With both of them, ” she nodded toward the Arabs. “It really is some fucking amazing stuff. Just wait until the orgasm hits you... Then you’ll understand what it means to be reborn. After that, you won’t be able to be dragged away from that cock even with a lasso.”

Andrey stood there, frozen, watching with pleasure as the Arabs fucked his wife in perfect harmony. They paid him no attention at all, as if he weren’t her husband at all — just some guy who had wandered in for a walk, worth about as much as a button on a pair of long johns.

Larisa walked over to him and pulled his thermal underwear down. Then she removed his pajama top and tossed everything onto the floor. She moved behind him and wrapped her cool hands around his cock. Larisa pressed her full breasts against his back and gently stroked his red, throbbing cock with her fingers.

“Do you like it?” she whispered, licking his earlobe.

“Like what?” Andrey asked in the same low voice, involuntarily moving his cock in Larisa’s gentle hands.

“Everything, ” Larisa said, squeezing his shaft harder.

“Yes, ” Andrey answered simply. “You have no idea how much...”

“I can imagine, ” Larisa replied in the same tone, and slid down his back.

A moment later Andrey felt her wet tongue penetrate his ass. He arched backward and spread his cheeks with his hands. Immediately a hot wave washed over his groin: Larisa began licking him furiously, not forgetting his hard cock. She simply sat on the floor and performed real magic between his legs...