Countess Irina Rumyantseva was born in Moscow in the family of Baskov. Rich, noisy, used to live in a grand style, he had a reputation of a hospitable one in Moscow. He spoiled his only daughter very much. And it seemed the life ahead is full of joy, but fate cut short Baskov’s life. His widow in grief, survived not longer.
Irina was 16 years old when the German woman, who was in charge of her, married her off to count Rumyantsev - the famous 50-year-old man. Rumyantsev loved his young wife, but he had lived quite rough youth and wasted his enthusiasm for other women, so he could no longer give her all that was required of that naive, every day more and more passionate nature. Irina was becoming depressed, not knowing why. She often suffered headaches and vague desires. Husband as he could, tried to entertain her, took her to meetings, to the Opera, arranged balls. At one of those balls Irina was introduced to count Vesenin. Young, witty, brilliant gentleman, a true society lion – Irina liked him from the first sight, and she often caught his gaze at her.
After that evening they met in the theater as if accidentally, at the soirees as well. But Dmitry did not attempt to get close to Irina.
In the summer count Rumyantsev was advised to send his young wife to the South. He rented a wonderful house for Irina; it was vine-covered and standing near the sea. The house was furnished the way Irina wanted. The count was called in Moscow by business, but he hoped that the miraculous nature would entertain Irina, and she wouldn’t be bored in his absence.
On the third day, going to the sea, she met Vesenin. She could not hide the joy of that meeting, still she didn’t even try. Dmitry offered a ride on his yacht and Irina, leaning on Dmitry’s brawny shoulder, was breathing with the smell of the sea and the male body. They returned late at night, a music was sounding from the shore. When ashore Irina and Dmitry, not saying a word, went to the house of Irina. Telling her maid that her services were no longer needed, Irina rose to her favorite Japanese room. Dmitry went to pick her up. The decor of the room impressed him with its originality and splendor. The floor was carpeted in red and black roses. In one corner there was a sofa, upholstered in satin cloth. Next to the sofa there was a Japanese screen, embroidered with white storks on the black satin. There was a pink lamp with soft light pouring over the carpet and the heap of pillows.
Dmitry was looking at Irina. She just returned from the next room, where a moment ago there was a splash of water heard and a delicate scent of French perfume was spreading. Irina was wearing a black kimono, with bare and haven't had time to tan hands. She combed her hair in the manner of Japanese women and she then actually looked like a woman from the East. Emerald pendants were hanging in the small ears. Her shining eyes were not less splendid.
They were drinking cold wine and with every glass Irina was becoming livelier. Her scarlet lips longed for a passionate kiss, the chest was heavily rising. And every time her hand reached for the glass, Dmitry felt that she wanted to caress him. They were sitting on the cushions around the table, looking long and passionate at each other.
Suddenly Irina stretched out and threw her hands behind her head. The flaps of the kimono parted, and Dmitry saw under luxurious clothes there was no other clothing. Irina’s plump hips were moved apart, as if calling for Dmitry to the hollow appearing between them. Dmitry gently passed a hand over it, his lips found her lips and stuck into them with a passionate kiss.
Kimono fell down off her sixteen-year-old, charming body, and bared two white breasts with pink nipples. Dmitry was passionately sucking the nipples in turns, making them swollen as the buds of roses. Dmitry was giving Irina hotter and hotter kisses. He was taking her nipples by lips and kissed them, clutching. At that moment, Irina felt as if electrical shock was passing over and her body. Then she felt strong but gentle hands spread her thighs and Dmitry’s hot cock began slow entering the approaching moistened with passion hole. Irina instinctively leaned forward, tightly pressing her clitoris to Dmitry’s penis. Dmitry was either moving away from her, taking the cock out, caressing gentle, delicate hair covering her lips, then sinking again between them to the end. Then Irina couldn’t stay quiet: she moved right, then left, throwing her legs on his shoulders, squeezing them as by rings. Irina suddenly felt a wave of fiery lust like a cramp gripped her body: Dmitry’s penis stuck in her last time and released a flood of moisture.
Irina leaned on the pillows in languor. Then she slowly turned on her side and reached for the glass of wine. But there Dmitry’s hand went over her stomach, close to the recess between her legs and lay down between the wet lips. His other hand lifted Irina, forcing her to kneel. Dmitry’s penis was behind her, clinging tightly to the walls of the hole. He was going deeper and deeper. Dmitry had his arm around her stomach and kissed her plump buttocks, taking dick out for a moment from her hot vagina and, passing it over tight anus. He was gently stroking swollen breasts unsteadily swaying and helplessly hanging over the carpet. Dmitry’s lips whispered passionate words - incoherent and unintelligible through clenched teeth…
Dmitry had been staying with Irina till morning.
It was dawn when Irina woke up. She went to the balcony and threw a silk curtain aside. The first rays of sun peeked into the room and lit sleeping Dmitry. His cock in a sleep seemed to remember about her, Irina. Irina timidly moved her lips towards his cock, she began passing her lips and tongue over the little ringlet around his head, lightly pulling it into her mouth and releasing it. Irina caressed the penis, which brought her voluptuous pleasure last night. She came to her senses only when her mouth was filled with hot, spicy-smelling liquid, intoxicating as wine. Dmitry opened his eyes and stretched his hands to her. She sat down over Dmitry in a squatting position…
Penis went so deep that Irina felt a slight pain. She moved from side to side, but without rising, so as not to let off the desired extraction. Dmitry drew her nipples, he let off and again caught her swollen breasts by lips. A bunch of grapes fell from the hands of Irina on Dmitry’s shoulder. He hugged Irina and the juice moistened her chest. Dmitry began drinking the huge drops of juice from Irina’s breasts. Irina got up and went into another room. Dmitry dozed off under water splashing.
The next day, it was raining for the first time in summer. The rain caught Irina and Dmitri in the mountains and they were quick to take refuge in the grotto smelled of damp leaves and water. Dmitry was stroking her hair, throwing back unruly locks from her forehead; he was gently kissing her ear and the hollow on her chest. Suddenly there was thunder struck sounding. Irina clung to him. She kissed the corners of his lips. Her hand moved down, until she came upon solid ledge. Irina squeezed her hand and did not want to let it off. Dmitry lifted her up and set her on his lap. Dmitry waist was narrow, and Irina grabbed it by her legs, she pressed against his chest, squeezing him with her lush thighs. Her mouth was slightly open, and Dmitry kissed Irina, inserting his tongue into it. She was having fun, allowing penis to enter just in a flash of lightning. Her eyes were sparkling and Dmitry considered all that, the rain, the thunder a fairy tale.
Once in the theater Dmitry introduced Irina to his friend - Prince Vladimir. He invited her to dinner in a restaurant, but Irina following the earlier plan called them to her place. Irina, as a hospitable hostess, was filling their glasses again and again. It was all good. All were extremely excited, eagerly waiting for something extraordinary.
- Vladimir, you have not seen my Japanese room, - casually said Irina.
Dmitry looked at her questioningly-surprised.
- I have sake there, would you like to try? - she turned to the men. Sake - Japanese vodka - was really nice, still rather strong. Irina drank with Vladimir brotherhood, then kissed alternately Dmitry and Vladimir.
- I want you both to kiss me, - Irina puffed out her lips fretfully.
- Well, show me who of you is better in kissing gently.
Dmitry bent over Irina. He did not hesitate, and perhaps wanted to emphasize the right of the first. Dmitry's lips were moving lower and lower on the smooth, covered with fine hair skin of the abdomen to the place where silky hair was growing. Vladimir was looking at the sleek Irina’s body, as she trembled under the kisses of his friend, and barely restrained myself. Excited with caresses, Irina reached out to him.
- You come to me, - she said, sliding off the couch and carrying the men along with her down the carpet. She lay between them offering her sensitive lips to one person, or another. Their hands tenderly stroked her thighs. Soon she was tired of innocent affection. Irina grabbed Vladimir by her hands.
- Hold me tight, - those hands were saying, and Vladimir heeding that call tightly pressed against her taut body, pressing his cock, which released a powerful stream of life-giving liquid, which had completed his passionate impulse. Vladimir’s caresses distracted her from Dmitry, she felt that she was taking his cock reluctantly, giving him cherished pleasure. Then she, whether from a desire to satisfy the passion of her first lover, or striving to experience what had not yet been tested, began kissing Dmitry all over: the chest, the arms and the penis. She did it passionately and furiously, barely taking a breath. Her lips barely touched Dmitry. She tickled and excited him. And when she felt that Dmitry was close to satisfaction, she grabbed both her breasts and handed them to the man… Dmitry’s penis was passing furiously between the boobs, sprinkling them with dull-white tears.
Sensory acuity, love in trio had overwhelmed Irina so much, that she became inflamed with a passion without any boundaries. Blindfolded with a silk handkerchief, Irina invited them to play a game to guess: guess who caresses her. She was laughing, her head thrown back. Irina didn't doubt that she would recognize Dmitry. The men thought the proposal was quite original.
Suddenly Irina felt something huge, hot and thick entered her with such a strength that she staggered and fell lower, but someone's hands lifted her up and turned to him. She grabbed the cock that struck her and inserted it into the moistened pulsing hole, her legs hanging in the air, the hips supported by Vladimir’s hands were breathing with the strength of woman. It was Vladimir, Irina was sure. Vladimir carried her across the room and every time he dropped her on the huge and juicy cock, a moan of pleasure was coming out of Irina’s chest. She could feel he touched something inside her body and in those moments a hot wave of lust was spreading over Irina’s body.
- I want both of you. . . - she whispered passionately, when Vladimir had put her down on the fluffy carpet. Irina’s lips reached out to Dmitry
- You are mine as well. You both are mine… I want you! - she whispered, panting, frantically gasping Dmitry’s penis.
Her legs were moved apart. The light cast by a pink lamp was falling between her legs. In the halo of dark shiny hair a hole was showing red, and above there was something similar to a small papilla. That papilla attracted the sight of Vladimir. He approached it and began sliding his tongue up and down. Suddenly Irina began moving her hips quickly. The sight of the ecstasy awakened a real man in Vladimir. He grabbed the hole by two fingers and began stretching it, letting his dick in…
Exhausted Irina leaned over the pillows. - I'm hot, - she whispered almost inaudibly. Vladimir and Dmitry carried her into the bathroom where they bathed her together laughing and splashing water.
The last month at the resort had gone in the heat of love and passion. The last night was a repetition of the first one. And that was the day Irina was leaving. The men followed her. At the station, Dmitry stepped aside and Vladimir kept on looking at Irina, her eyes called him. He quickly jumped up on the steps of the wagon and darted into the compartment. Irina's hands clasped him on the neck and pulled him to her soft and submissive lips. She turned the key in the door. Vladimir grabbed Irina, his cock stung her to the touch with a kind of desperate fury. She was feeling pain and pleasure at the same time. It was the first time she felt something like that. Her body was writhing in the hands of that temperamental man, hurrying in these moments to give everything. They lay on the shelf. Several times Vladimir tried to pull his hot penis out, but she didn't want to let him go. The train started, last time Vladimir poured a powerful stream of life-giving liquid, leaving exhausted, tortured and sacrificed Irina lying in the compartment, and rushed to the exit. Vladimir jumped off when the train was already moving and for a while he was running after the train. It was all over. The improbable happiness was over. He will never forget that woman. Was it grief or joy to have met her?...