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On Saturday, Olga was startled awake by a slow, heavy knock on the smooth birch door to her family’s home. Blearily, she extended her legs and arms, groaning with exhaustion as she pushed the comfort of sleep from her extremities. She noticed the warm glow of morning through the round window of her bedroom, and assumed that her parents had already risen for the day’s work – it appeared to be past dawn.
The knock continued, lazier this time, but with no sign of surrender.
“Coming!” Olga called out as she lifted herself from bed. The floor was cold on her feet; she slipped on warm wool socks before forging onward.
At the door was Maria Ignatyeva, known by those close to her as Masha, clad in a soft yellow smock that stopped right above her knee. In the light of the morning her skin had a pure, heavenly glow, reflecting the ivory tone of her skin and the sparse freckles on her arms and face. Her copper hair radiated around her head like a halo, the flyaways and frizz lit into pure gold against the sun.
Masha’s parents were close friends with Olga’s, and the girls were only four months apart – Masha was born in January, Olga in May. In the way that is common among family friends, the girls played and became friends within the context of social gatherings between the two families and the local community. However, they did not usually associate beyond this realm, and it had been years since the families last had a party or dinner together.
Olga was overcome with a sudden joy from seeing her old friend, who was so indicative of the happiness of childhood. The girl’s mane of beautiful red hair raised the association of carefree days spent galloping in the hills and meadows near the lake. Olga remembered how sensitive her skin was; prone to burns and bruises, and how it would become pink after one short romp in the sun. She squeezed her friend tightly to her breast and exclaimed:
“Masha! Maria Ignatyeva!”
Masha smiled shyly in response to Olga’s full-hearted greeting. Her smile had not changed – it was still a slight, close-lipped expression which suggested a complex inner world of emotion. Her green eyes lifted up to Olga’s, though squinting under the brunt of the sun.
“These are for your mother, from my mother,” Masha said, procuring a rucksack with an assortment of fabric scraps, ribbons, and yarn. Folded and sealed was a letter, presumably from Masha’s mother to Olga’s.
Olga set the supplies down by the door, right over the threshold of the house. However, she did not make any other movements towards the door.
“Would you like to stay awhile? It’s been so long, we ought to catch up!” She suggested, her voice full of cheer.
Masha looked down at the grass, then back to her old friend. She swayed from foot to foot like a soft fern before a storm. This time she smiled genuinely, the action pushing her eyes closed.
“Yes, we ought to.”
Olga led her by hand through the garden, still in her socks, to a shaded area behind the house that was the bridge between the homestead and the rest of her family’s land. The shed stood a couple yards away. A sturdy oak bench with a thick quilt over it was pressed against the house.
“Come sit!”
Olga was overjoyed to hear her friend’s exploits in the past year or so. Unfortunately, though, Olga had nothing to report, and Maria, though kind and gentle, was not the village’s best conversational partner.
Maria clasped her hands together and placed them in her lap, pulling her dress taut against her bust. The soft linen did well to accentuate the slight form of her body. Unlike Olga, Masha had not filled out – her breasts were small and round, perfect for caressing in one’s hand, and her hips remained slim, with none of the embellishment of the older, curvier girls in the village. Despite this, she was by no means scrawny, and many men coveted her. They enjoyed the thought of what the chaste, soft-spoken Maria Ignatyeva might have under her dress. At her neck, a simple silver cross dangled, the cool metal contrasting beautifully with her white skin.
“So please, tell me, how have you been?” Olga was facing her friend on the bench, clad in her nightgown.
“Oh, not much different from you, I’m sure. Sewing, cooking with mother, and learning to write my cursive letters, since I never mastered them as a child.” She laughed at her poor literacy, pushing a lock of red hair behind her ear.
“How are your siblings?” Olga mused. Masha had three siblings that she remembered – an older brother two years her senior, named Gennady, who shared the wild red locks. However, he was bookish and well-kempt, and combed his hair down with lard or olive oil to keep it in place. She also had two younger sisters, twins, five years younger than her.
“All are well. The twins are twelve now, and frustratingly obstinate. They don’t do anything Mother says, so Gennady and I are forced to pick up the slack. And oh, didn’t you know? Mother had another baby, not one year ago. keçiören escort She’s gorgeous, and we can’t help but play with her like a little doll. Mother named her Lyubov.”
Olga was thrilled with the prospect of a new baby.
“A little sister! I’m so envious. I bet she has the cutest, chubbiest cheeks in the world! Does she take after your father?” The origin of their family’s shocking red hair was Ignat, the patriarch.
“Yes, the poor twins are the only ones with blonde hair! You should come visit sometime for dinner, Olga. I – we miss your company.” The reserved Masha was careful not to overdo her excitement regarding Olga’s possible return as a companion.
“I would be delighted!” The recently invited lady proclaimed. An enthusiastic blush tinted Olga’s cheeks. “But Masha, what is new with you? Of course I am curious about your family, but I must know how you yourself feel.”
Something about Olga’s imploring blue eyes, reflecting the same depth and youthful intensity as the nearby mountain lake, drew the emotion from Masha. She giggled like a maiden much her junior and grabbed Olga’s hand, squeezing it tight.
“I am to be wed,” she said in a loud whisper. Her face wore an atypical smile, an unusual mask of delight. Masha exposed her crooked front tooth, her biggest insecurity, in a naked smile to her dear friend.
Olga jumped up in excitement, clapping her hands together and squealing. Her breasts bounced wildly in her white nightgown.
“Oh, please tell me! Who is it? Do I know him?”
“Nikolai Grigorovich Bartsov. He is the butcher’s son. Maybe you have seen him wrestling down by the river?”
The name sounded familiar, but it was the image that brought back the memory of Masha’s fiancé. He was a big man, well over six feet. The few times he had interacted with Olga, she got the impression he was a kind man, but not very bright. He was capable of growing a thick, tough beard, and the rest of his body was no less hairy. From all the time he spent outdoors, he was a burnt caramel color, and was most often seen sparkling with a sheen of sweat on his sturdy body.
From the perspective of parents in the village, Nikolai Grigorovich was a perfect son-in-law. For your daughter to marry him was a great blessing; you would never worry if her needs were being met. He had the enormous capacity for manual labor, and this propensity led itself into his hobbies as well – he loved to wrestle, and would take any man’s challenge with a good-natured handshake. His lack of intelligence was of no concern, for it would be easy for your daughter to bend him to her will. Olga, for all her naïveté, was not blind to the social forces acting in this pairing. She wondered about the dowry Masha’s parents must have paid the Bartsovs for the match.
Even though she was thrilled for her friend, Olga could not shake the picture of Masha and Nikolai together from her mind. She was so gentle and meek, how could such a brute of a man be her groom? When they were little girls, they postulated for hours about their future husbands. Could Masha be satisfied with such a man? She used to scrawl pictures of slim princes with wit and wealth, not soft-hearted giants from the butcher’s family. Something about the image of Masha’s slender body engulfed by Nikolai’s hulking one made her shiver.
Olga feigned being impressed. “Oh, what a sweetheart he is! You will be well taken care of, I’m sure.”
“He will. He is so generous and loving. I am so lucky that he took an interest in me.” Masha had the dreamy, far off gaze of a bride-to-be.
“Have the two of you spent a lot of time together?”
“Why, yes, we will be married in just a month’s time! He has visited our household for many meals and –”
“That’s not quite what I mean. Have you two spent any alone time together?”
Masha blushed a dark pink, her freckles obscured by the passionate rush of blood.
“How do you mean?”
“Have you gotten to know each other in private, so that you will know what it will be like to be husband and wife? If not, how could you be so thrilled to be his bride?”
“Olga!” Masha chastised. Despite the scolding, Olga pressed on. She knew it was important to doubt her friend, to show her the outsider’s perspective. If Masha was hurt in any way, physically or mentally, Olga would not stand for it.
“What is it like when you kiss him?” Olga was beginning to feel butterflies in her stomach.
“Well, it feels nice, of course, as it always does when kissing a boy.” Masha steered herself away from the real question. Olga, having never kissed a boy, was feeling a strange sense of jealousy – the first jealousy, that she herself had never kissed a boy, and the second that other boys had been kissing Masha. Against her will, arousal was starting to build up at the mere thought of her beautiful friend in the arms of a man.
Masha noticed Olga waiting for more, and she obliged, a virginal blush painting her pale skin kızılay escort atop her freckles.
“You have no shame, do you? You’re just the same! Fine, I’ll tell you. He is a wonderful kisser, he makes me feel so wrong sometimes…you know, he can be very handsy too,” she started to smile and giggle beside herself.
“Handsy? Oh my, the scandal,” Olga laughed, then became serious again. “He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”
“No, no, much the opposite. He does amazing things to my body.”
“Oh, please tell me more!” Olga clasped her hands together tightly. Her cheeks grew hot with fervor, her breasts bouncing as she fidgeted on the bench. “Masha, I won’t be able to live without knowing!”
“If you absolutely insist,” Masha said. She tucked a curly lock of copper hair behind her shapely ear. In the light, her freckles were radiant, and her lithe form glowed from underneath her thin yellow dress. Her nipples hardened at the recollection of her escapades with her fiancé Nikolai, and she began to squirm on the bench. “Well, we’re waiting for marriage to…you know,” she said quietly. “But there’s no rules against…how should I put it…the back door.”
Olga was in awe, wondering if she was just incredibly dirty minded or if her sweet, virginal childhood friend had really just admitted to having anal sex with the butcher’s son. Instantly, the image of Masha’s tight, round ass and Nikolai’s thick cock came into her mind. She imagined Masha’s cries of pleasure and pain mingling as he worked his cock into her asshole. Olga could tell her pussy was becoming soaked underneath her linen nightgown.
Masha continued, suddenly animated and excited to tell her attractive friend about her sexual experiences. “You would think it would just hurt, but it really feels amazing. It feels so strange at first, but then the pleasure is so deep and overwhelming, like it comes from your very core. Oh Olga, I know it sounds strange, but I really wish you could try it.”
“B-but Masha, he never does anything to your other hole? Wouldn’t that feel so much better?” Olga was becoming more and more excited the farther the conversation went. She was very curious as to what Masha’s pussy looked like under her charming little dress.
“I want to leave us something special for our wedding night,” Masha said. She shifted worriedly on the bench. Her hand curled around her soft, pink cheek and she sucked in a shallow breath. “To be honest, I don’t really know what to expect. I’ve never had anything up there before.”
“Never? Not even your own fingers?” Olga asked. As an avid masturbator, she was flabbergasted. Of course, Olga started masturbating with just her fingers. However, she felt she needed a fuller feeling. That’s when she started experimenting, inserting broom handles, cucumbers, hairbrush handles, and other similarly shaped objects inside herself. Olga wished she could teach Masha this art – guiding her into sex with her toys, helping open her pussy and prep her for sex with her likely well-endowed fiancé.
“No, never,” she sighed. Her legs drifted apart ever so slightly. Just then, the breeze fluttered ever so slightly and Olga was surprised to see her mound completely uncovered underneath her dress. The hairs there matched the ones on her head, a delightful, curly mass of copper.
Olga sucked in a breath. Her heart was racing and slick began to gather between her legs at the sight of her friend’s bare pussy.
“If you want, I could help you prepare for Nikolai,” she said.
Masha smiled warmly before anxiety spread across her face. “Would you really? Oh, that would be so helpful. He wouldn’t be upset, would he?”
“He doesn’t have to know,” Olga said quickly. “Besides, I’m doing this for his sake just as much as yours.”
“Oh, Olga, please teach me! I’m so nervous, honestly!”
“Of course, Masha. Follow me!”
Olga took the thin, freckled wrist of her beloved friend in her hand as she led her over to a more secluded spot behind the shed. It was only a couple paces away from the cucumber patch, and was filled with soft grass and spots of small, vibrant pink flowers.
Olga sat down on the soft grass and Masha followed suit. An awkwardness dwindled in the air for just a moment before Masha turned to Olga and asked,
“What shall we do first?”
“First, I’ll touch you down there, just so you will know what it’s like when he uses his fingers,” Olga said. Although she was very nervous, she was trying very hard to play the role of teacher. Her arousal made it difficult to stay focused.
“Okay,” Masha obliged. She moved up her soft cotton dress to expose her long, pale legs and the front of her pussy. She opened her legs just a bit, but not enough to part her lips.
Olga took her hand and slid it up the inside of Masha’s thigh, which the redheaded girl giggled at.
“Be careful, you’re tickling me!” She said.
“I’m going to touch your pussy now, okay?” Olga asked.
“Mm, okay.” kolej escort
Olga’s fingers delicately traced Masha’s slit. The hair there was coarse and damp. Ever so gently, she used her fingers to part the lips of her friend’s pussy. She did everything she could not to gasp. It was a beautiful sight, pink and glistening. Her clit was just beginning to peek out of the folds, and a white droplet of her arousal was leaking out of her hole.
“Oh wow,” Olga breathed to herself.
With her index finger, she traced along Masha’s clit. The girl shivered and made a tiny whine.
“Ohhh…Olga, that feels really good.”
“So, on your wedding night, you need to be ready to take his big cock, right?”
“It sounds so dirty when you say that, but yes, of course.” Masha blushed crimson, even with Olga’s finger sliding along her slick pussy.
“Then I’m going to open you with my fingers, okay?”
“Okay, I trust you.”
Olga used her middle finger to push open Masha’s tight, virgin hole. She could not believe she had never put anything inside herself before. Olga’s own hole began to twitch with excitement at the thought of being filled.
“Aaaahhnn!” Masha squealed above her. “It feels so different!”
“Good different?”
Masha did not respond, as Olga’s finger was going deeper into her hole, filling her mind with pleasure. Olga could feel her walls tightening around her finger instinctively, trying to hold on to the intrusive object. It seemed as though Masha’s pussy was starving for anything to enter it after so many years left unfilled.
Olga realized that her thumb was close enough to Masha’s clit to rub, so she gave it a try and was welcomed with a loud moan. Masha parted her legs wider in invitation.
“Oh god…I hope Nikolai feels half as good as this on our wedding night.”
Olga was trying so hard to ignore the throbbing between her own legs, but she could no longer sustain her focus. Her other hand reached down to her skirts where she tried to surreptitiously play with her clit. She was met with a mess of liquid, some of which had leaked onto the grass.
“Oh yes, oh yes,” Masha whined. Olga started to move her thumb faster and felt Masha’s walls clamp down tight in a way that reminded her of her own impending orgasms. Olga inserted her finger as far as it would go into her friend’s virgin pussy and curled her finger until it was deeply nestled inside her.
“Mmm, Olga, I don’t know what’s happening,” Masha muttered. Her face was twisted in confusion.
“It’ll be okay,” Olga purred back. “It’s okay, Masha, you have to trust your body and let go. You’re going to come.”
It took one more swipe of Olga’s thumb to unwind Masha. She yelled, pushing her body down onto Olga’s hand and writhing. Olga could feel the rapid fire pulsations of her orgasm around her finger and her wetness increase. Her face was like an angel in agony as Olga milked the pleasure out of her nerves. As she pulled her finger out, she saw Masha’s white cum coating her hand.
Masha laid still for another moment, recovering from her first orgasm. Olga felt dizzy and dumbstruck. She was also aware of the growing need to piss, and hoped that she could share that fantasy with Masha.
“Oh my god. I hope Nikolai will do that to me. Will you talk to him?” She joked. She was smiling up at Olga with her legs open and spent pussy exposed. “Whew, I kind of need to pee a little bit. It felt like it while you were touching me. So weird!”
“I need to pee, too. We can go here if you want. I don’t mind.”
“Sure. No shame anymore, after you’ve just had your finger inside me.”
Olga pulled up her skirt. Masha looked at her pussy, which was fat, swollen, and very red. Her clit was hard and poking out of its hood. She felt arousal build inside her again.
Masha squatted and bunched her dress up around her waist so as not to sully it with her piss.
“I can’t believe I didn’t realize how bad I needed to go. Now it’s hard for it to come out…ah, there we go,” Masha said.
Her piss pattered gently on the grass at first, coating the flowers and splashing a little bit on her feet. Then her muscles bore down and her stream grew. At the quick relief, she moaned as she did when Olga had her finger inside her. Her pussy fluttered for a moment, cutting her stream off temporarily before coming back in full force. She reached down to open her pussy lips as it tapered off, trying to fully expend her bladder.
Olga was having trouble getting her stream started because of her swollen clit, but she relieved herself a bit by rubbing it. Soon, a powerful stream appeared between her legs. She wasn’t squatting, but standing with her legs wide apart. Masha giggled at the sight. Olga touched her pussy as she pissed, enjoying the warm wetness on her clit and the overwhelming sense of relief. The sight of Masha pissing and opening her pussy left her breathless.
The two girls laughed as they finished their hearty outdoor piss and settled back down on a dry patch of flowers.
“Mmm, that felt so good,” Masha said, playing with her wet pussy lazily.
“Masha, is it okay if I come too? I don’t think I can hold back anymore, I’m sorry.”
“Of course! I’ll watch you and learn.”
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