Randira Minsky and the Russian Way

Going to college is a new experience for most people, and it's especially so if you grew up in a really small town and you were the first in your family to go to college.  We all have a frame of reference for how things are supposed to be depending upon the environment in which we grew up.  The environment in a major university is so different you sort of lose your place in the world until you get it all figured out.

That was how I felt after the first day at The University of Tennessee.  I lived in a dorm complex that had as many students in the six dorms as my whole town had residents including kids.  About half of those students were girls, and that was a huge change.  My graduating class from high school had twenty seven guys and nine girls.  Needless to say, none of those girls had any trouble at all getting dates, even Marjorie Evens.  Marjorie was a nice girl and I dated her several times.  She just wasn’t very pretty and she didn’t have much of a figure.

There's no way to hide anything in a small town.  Everybody knows what everybody else has done, is now doing, and is thinking about doing in the future.  As a result, girls in school are pretty chaste.  They all want to look sexy, but just try getting your hand in a bra or up a skirt and you'd get shut down really fast.  Sex was something they all fantasized about, or so Marjorie told me one night, but she didn't dare do anything for fear the whole town would know.

That was probably the case.  High school boys like to brag about their prowess with girls, so if one of us had gotten lucky, he'd have told everybody he knew.  As a result, I graduated without so much as a feel of a naked breast, or even a feel of a breast through a bra, and I'd given up on getting my hand in a girl's panties.  It didn't really matter all that much with Marjorie because Marjorie didn't have much of anything in her bra.  I wasn’t sure what she might have in her panties.

That all changed when I got to college.  There were a lot more girls around, and while there were a few like Marjorie, most had big enough breasts they jiggled when they walked.  The other thing was that back home, all the girls dressed so you couldn't see that jiggle.  At college, the girls seemed to dress to accent that jiggle.  

One that really did was Randira Minsky, and Randira had a lot to jiggle.  Randira was in my Rhetoric 101 class, and the first day of class she was wearing bell-bottom jeans and a tight blue top with a deep "V" neckline.   That's all I remember about her because of how that top fit.  Sticking out of that neckline was cleavage like I'd never dreamed existed.  I mean, it wasn't just cleavage like a separation between her big breasts that you could have stuck your finger in.  It was both her big breasts pushing out her top and squeezed together so tight the cleavage was just a line between them.

She took the desk next to mine and smiled at me.  I couldn’t do anything except stare until the professor started the lecture.  Even after that, I kept stealing little glances at her.  She'd see me doing that and grin.

She knew I was staring at her.  She obviously knew why too, and it didn't seem to embarrass her.  If anything, she seemed to like being stared at.  I'd never met a girl in my life who liked being stared at.

The Rhetoric 101 class met three times a week, and every day the first week, Randira sat in the desk beside me.  After that first day, I was still staring, but I'd sort of gotten used to the way she looked and could see the rest of her.

Randira had long, dark brown hair, and her ass was pretty great too.  It wasn't like Marjorie's ass at all.  Marjorie had a little ass that didn't move much when she walked.  Randira's ass was alive.  Watching her walk out of the room after class was mesmerizing.  Her ass had a life all it's own, and that combined with her huge breasts made her a sight to stir the imagination of any young, horny guy.  More than one time I'd jacked off in one of the stalls in the dorm bathroom while imagining how Rondira would look naked.

It was two weeks into the semester when she stopped me after class.  

"Jerry, your last name's Markarov, right?"

I said it was and she smiled.

"That's a Russian surname, just like mine.  Are you Russian?"

Well, from what I'd been told, my family was originally from Russia.  One of my ancestors was a ship's carpenter on a ship that brought a group of men who sailed to Alaska sometime around 1800 to hunt fur seals.  While he was waiting to go back to Russia, he found a Native American woman he liked a lot.  He stayed in Alaska with her and they were living there when the US purchased Alaska from Russia. One of his grandsons moved to Colorado when gold was discovered there.  

I told her that my grandfather said the family was originally from Russia and we probably still had relatives living there.  Randira smiled.

"I haven't met many students with a Russian heritage.  We should get together sometime and compare family histories."

Now, I'd always thought it was up to the guy to ask a girl for a date, but Randira had basically just asked me out.  I didn't quite know what to think about that.  I mean, all the girls in my high school had seemed pretty shy.  They'd never have even thought about asking a guy out...well...I suppose some of them did, but they never said that to any guy I knew of.  As a result, I'm sure I came off like some dumb hick from the sticks.

"Uh...what do you mean by 'get together'?"

I probably should have noticed the way Randira grinned, but I was too busy looking at her big breasts.  She'd pulled her shoulders back and that forced them up and out against her white, low cut blouse.

"Oh, just that we should meet somewhere and talk about our parents and grandparents, that's all."

I asked her if she meant a coffee shop and she shook her head.

"No, I'd like it to be someplace quiet so we can really talk without anybody else overhearing us.  A coffee shop would be too noisy.  Hey, I know where we can go.  We can go to my apartment."

That was a little odd, I thought.  The university rules required all freshmen to live in a dorm unless they were twenty-one or older.  

"How did you get to live in an apartment?"

Randira smiled and shrugged.

"I'm twenty one because I got a late start on college.  My parents couldn't pay for school and I didn't want to borrow a bunch of money, so I got a job after high school and worked for three years.  I like being by myself and an apartment is cheaper too.  It's not much, but it's a place to sleep and study.  Wanna come see on Saturday?"

Randira's apartment wasn't a palace, but it was a lot better than my dorm room.  Actually, it wasn't even an apartment like I'd always thought of as an apartment.  She had two rooms on the second floor of a house and her landlord lived on the first floor.  She did have a separate stairway, so she could come and go as she pleased without him knowing.

The main room was kind of a living room/kitchen combination.  She had a tiny little range and a refrigerator and a sink.  The rest was furnished with a couch, a chair, and a small table where she ate and studied.  The second room was her bedroom, and she said it had a separate bathroom.

While we ate, we mostly talked about school - what classes we were taking and which professors we liked and didn't like.  Randira was studying to become an English teacher and loved Rhetoric 101.  I was studying to be a mechanical engineer and hated Rhetoric 101.  I couldn't see why it was important that I be able to write a paper about what it means to be confident.  That was the latest assignment - write a paper describing how it feels to be confident.  I told Randira it was a hard paper to write, but she just laughed.

"No, it's easy.  If you're confident, you aren't afraid to say what you think because you know you're right.  Don't you feel that way?  I do.  Just write how you feel when you know you're right and tell that to somebody.”

I must have made some sort of odd face, because Randira reached over and touched my arm.

"Tell you what...you write it and then let me read it and I'll fix anything you've done wrong.  Now, tell me about that ancestor of yours who came to Alaska from Russia."

I shrugged.

"I don't know if it's true or not, but supposedly, about 1800, one of my ancestors was a ship's carpenter on a ship that brought fur seal hunters to Alaska.  While they were hunting, he made some repairs to the ship.  He also met a Native American woman he liked a lot.  When the ship sailed, he stayed behind with the woman and built a small boat.  Together, they traded with the settlements up and down the coast of Alaska.  

"As the story goes, they had one son and two daughters.  Nobody knows what happened to the daughters, but the son, Nikolai, came to Colorado about 1840 because he'd heard rumors of gold there."

I had to grin at the next part because it was a family joke.

"He found a little gold, but decided building saloons for the gold miners was less work and paid better.  His dad had taught him ship's carpentry and building saloons wasn't much different.  That's when he met my great, great, great, great grandmother.  Her name was Flossie Sexton, but when he met her she called her self Madamoselle Rene LeBeux.  She was the star attraction at one of the saloons he built."

Randira gasped.

"She was a hooker?"

I chuckled.

"Well, the women of my family refer to her as a "dancer" because they're embarrassed to admit to what Flossie was before she married Nikolai.  From what the women of the family all say, Flossie was a nice girl who just got off on the wrong track, but she straightened out once she and Nikolai hooked up.  They're still embarrassed to say what happen after they got married though.  Apparently, Flossie liked sex a lot because she and Nikolai had three sons and four daughters. ."

Randira grinned.

"Why would they be embarrassed about that?"

"Well, in my family, women don't think it's ladylike to like sex."

Randira frowned.

"Huh...that's odd.  My mother told me she likes sex a lot and that I would too.  The only thing she cautioned me about was having sex before I got married to the guy.  She said I'd probably get pregnant and that would ruin my life."

I had to grin because my mother had told me the same thing.  

"Yeah, mom's all must think alike.  Mine said if I had sex with a girl, I'd probably get her pregnant and then I'd have to marry her and it would screw up the rest of my life too."

Randira cocked her head.

"So...have you...had sex, I mean?"

I shook my head.

"No, I haven't.  How about you?"

She looked pretty coy then.

"No, not real sex anyway.  A couple guys said they'd use a condom, but Mom said sometimes they break, so I never let them actually screw me.  There are other ways, though, you know."

Well, like I said before, I’d led a pretty sheltered life up until then.  I learned about jacking off though, and though I never heard a girl say they did, I assumed girls did the same thing.  I figured that’s what Randira was talking about.

“Yeah, there are.  Do you…I mean…I do, but I never heard a girl tell me she did.”

Randira grinned.

“Of course I do.  Have since I figured out what an orgasm felt like.  That’s not what I’m talking about though.  What I’m talking about is a guy and a girl making it together without the girl being actually screwed.”

Well, I wasn’t about to jack off in front of Randira.  I mean, that’s a pretty personal thing.  It would have been neat to watch her do herself though.

“So, you’re saying the guy does himself and the girl does herself at the same time and they watch each other?”

Randire grinned a wicked grin.

“It’s a little like that, but I never do it on the first date.  Maybe if you keep coming over on Saturday for help with your writing, I might show you.”

Well, that was another shock to my sheltered life.  Randira was pretty good looking, and her big breasts and wide hips made her look really sexy to me.  I couldn’t believe she wanted some dork like me to keep seeing her.

“You want me to keep coming to your apartment on Saturday?”

Randira grinned that wicked grin again.

“Sure.  I want to know all about your family and I want to tell you about mine.  I want to hear a lot more about this Flossie lady.  She sounds like my kind of woman.”

Well, for the next month of the semester, I went to Randira’s apartment every Saturday night.  I’d take the theme I’d written for the Rhetoric 101 class.  Randira would read it, make all the corrections she thought needed to be made, and then we’d eat dinner.  After dinner, we’d talk about our families.

Randira’s family hadn’t been in the US as long as mine, but the history was more interesting.  Her great-great-great-great grandfather, Leon Minsky, had been a private in the Russian Army during a series of major defeats during WWI.  When Tsar Nicholas assumed control of the military, Leon figured the worst was yet to come.  He was right, and once Tsar Nicholas abdicated the throne, Leon figured it would be healthier if he was somewhere besides fighting in the Russian Army.  

Because his home was in Lithuanea and near the border with Germany, Leon spoke German as fluently as any German.  One night, he came upon a dead German soldier and decided to pose as a German soldier trying to find his unit.  He’d just walk across Germany until he came to France and then become a civilian again.  He took the soldier’s clothes and equipment and identification papers, and started walking, being careful to avoid any military of either side.  That worked for a month until he was captured by American forces and shipped to a prisoner of war camp at Fort McPherson in Atlanta, Georgia.  There, he learned how to build furniture and spent the last five months of WWI doing just that while learning English.

On his way on the boat back to Germany after the war was over, Leon had a lot of time to think.  If he went back to Russia, he’d be treated as a deserter and probably shot.  If he stayed in Germany like his stolen identification would let him, he’d probably starve to death because the German economy had pretty much totally collapsed.  Neither of these options appealed to him, but as he thought about other options, one kept coming up as the best – re-assume his real identity and immigrate back to the US as a political refugee.  That’s what he ended up doing.

When he landed in New York, he found a furniture maker who needed help and Leon settled down in the Russian community there.  He also married a Russian girl who had immigrated with her parents.  They had four children, three sons and one daughter before the Great Depression rendered most of the working people in the US dependent upon the government for what they needed.

The three sons struck out on their own to find work.  Randira didn’t know what happened to two of them, the oldest and the youngest, but the middle son ended up in Tennessee working on the dams on the Tennessee River started by the TVA.  When that work was done, he settled in Chattanooga and began working in construction.  Just as his father had, he married a Russian girl from New York City who worked for the TVA as a clerk.  Her father had followed the family occupation of construction worker and still lived in Chattanooga.  He had also married a Russian girl though she was born and raised in Chattanooga.

“So see”, smiled Randira after she’d explained all that, “we’re not that much different as far as our families are concerned…well, except for the women in your family not liking sex.  I still don’t understand that.”

I didn’t have an answer for her because I had no idea why the women of my family thought that way.  I knew the men of my family didn’t have the same opinion of sex.  They talked about sex when they went fishing and they talked about sex when they came over for family dinners as long as their wives weren’t around.  

“I don’t know, Randira. They all have kids though, so I know they must have sex with their husbands.”

Randira chuckled.

“I think they just don’t talk about sex when men and kids are around, that’s what I think.  They have to have had orgasms, and any woman who’s had an orgasm couldn’t wait to have another.  I love having orgasms.  I can hardly wait until I can have one the usual way.  Until then, I’ll keep having them by doing what I’ve read is called ‘the Russian way’.”

I shook my head.

“Never heard of that.  What is it?”

Randira grinned.

“It’s kind of hard to explain.  I could show you…if you’re interested.”

Well, what would any horny guy say to that?  What I said probably wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

“This isn’t one of those things where you tie me up, is it?”

Randira giggled.

“No, I’m not into that kind of stuff.  Wanna see what it is?”

If she hadn’t pulled her shoulders back which lifted her big breasts, I might have said no, but seeing what that did made me say yes.

“I…I guess so.”

Randira stood up then.

“We have to go to my bedroom then.  Come on, I don’t bite.”

Randira’s bedroom was pretty plain.  It had a bed, one dresser, and a bedside table with a lamp.  There was a closet on one wall.  I know it was a closet because there wasn’t any door and I could see Randira’s collection of tops and pants on hangers and several pairs of shoes on the floor.  Randira sat down on the bed and then patted the mattress beside her.

“There’s something I need you to promise before we do this, OK?”


“This is going to be fun, but I can’t have you getting carried away.  Will you promise me you won’t try anything else?”

Well, since I had no idea what we were going to do, I had no reason not to agree.

“OK, I promise.”

Randira grinned.

“I didn’t really think  you would, but a girl’s gotta be careful you know.  OK.  I need to use my bathroom.  While I’m gone, you get undressed.”

She didn’t give me time to say I couldn’t do that.  She just hopped off the bed, opened the only other door in the room, and left me sitting there.  About five minutes later, she came back out and all I could do was stare at her.

Randira was naked, and that naked was like no naked I’d even imagined.  Her breasts were bigger than I’d thought they were, her nipples stuck out from her breasts and looked really hard, her waist was pretty small, and her hips…well, they looked a lot wider than Marjorie’s.  What really caught my eye was the mass of dark brown hair on her mound.  I’d seen some pictures in a magazine one of my buddies brought to a camping trip, but they were nothing like Randira.  I was imagining running my fingers through that thick bush when Randira giggled.

“You’re sitting there with your mouth hanging open.  Haven’t you ever seen a naked woman before?”

That shook me out of my stupid staring a little.

“Actually, no, I haven’t.”

“Well, you are now.  Why are you still dressed?”

I didn’t really have an answer for her, so I started unbuttoning my shirt.  As soon as I took it off, Randira crossed the room, put her hand on my chest, and purred, “I like a hairy chest on a man.  Keep going so I can see the rest of you.”

Well, a few minutes later, I was standing there naked and embarrassed as all hell.  Randira made it worse when she reached down and gently stroked my hard cock.

“You have a nice dick.  I’m going to like this a lot.  Let me lay down and I’ll show you what I want you to do.”

Randira opened the drawer on the bedside table, and took out a bottle of what looked like baby oil.  Then she pulled the blanket and sheet down to the foot of the bed and laid down on her back.  She crooked a finger at me then.

“Come here, Jerry, and straddle my tummy, but don’t sit down or you’ll mash me.”

It felt weird to do that especially because my cock was stiff as a board and pointing right at Randira’s face, but I did it.  She grinned.

“OK, I’m going to put baby oil between my boobs, and then you’re going to put your dick between them like you’re screwing me.  Then, I want you to used your fingers to rub between my legs.  You can stick a finger in me if you want, but you don’t have to.”

Well, I tell you, watching Randira squirt baby oil between her breasts and then smear it around between them was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen.  It only got better when she stroked my cock and got baby oil on it too.  

“OK”, she purred, “Put your dick between my boobs now.”

I leaned forward enough to do that, and once I did, Randira pressed her big breasts together and trapped my cock between them.  

“Start stroking now, like you’re really screwing me, but don’t forget about me.  I want to have an orgasm too.”

I started moving my cock in and out of Randira’s breast trap and reached back and down until I felt hair.  That I didn’t have a clue about what she wanted was obvious.

Randira just smiled.

“You haven’t done a woman before, have you?”

My cock sliding between Randira’s breasts felt so good I had stop stroking before I answered.

“No, I haven’t.”

She chuckled then.

“I’ve got myself a virgin.  Don’t worry, it’s not hard.”

She moved her right hand down until she found mine.

“Just use your middle finger and rub gently up and down.  That little bump is where you’ll excite me the most.  Just move your finger gently up and down.”

I found that little bump, though it felt pretty big to me, and did what Randira said to do.  The result was amazing.  Randira caught her breath, then moaned, “That’s right, just like that.  I’m so horny this isn’t going to take long.  Keep moving your dick so you have an orgasm too.”

It took some coordination to get my cock stroking at the same time as my finger, but after a few tries, I sort of got the hang of it.  I’d stroke my cock in toward Randira’s face and move my finger up at the same time.  When I pulled my cock back, I’d move that finger down.  

I wasn’t sure what Randira was feeling, but I was feeling her soft breasts stroking my cock and I was getting there pretty fast.  Knowing I was going to shoot cum right in Randira’s face, I stopped before it got to the point I couldn’t control it.

“Randira, I don’t think you want me to do what’s gonna happen if I keep doing this.”

She just purred, “As long as you make me have an orgasm, I don’t care.  Keep going.  I’m almost there.”

I’d calmed down a little by then, so I started stoking my cock in and out of Randira’s big breasts again.  That feeling that I was going to spurt cum all over her face came back and I was going to stop again, but Randira gasped.

“Don’t stop, Jerry.  Go ahead and do it.  I’m ready…Oh, God…it’s happening now.”

With that, Randira gasped and her hips lifted up enough I almost fell to the side.  She gasped, then cried out, and I could feel her whole body start to shake.  That was more than I could handle.  The first surge raced up my cock and hit Randira on the chin.  I don’t think she noticed because she was laying there, gasping for breath, and her hips were rocking up and down so fast she was rubbing my finger instead of the other way around.

My second spurt didn’t go quite as far and hit her on the neck.  She was still humping up against my finger when my third sort of dribbled out between her breasts.

When Randira finally stopped  panting and rocking her hips, she looked up at me and grinned.

“Now you know what the Russian way is.  Did you like it?  I sure did.”

Well, given my sexual history, it was the most fantastic thing I’d ever experienced and that’s what I told her.  She just grinned.

“You were pretty good yourself.  We need to work on a few things, but you were pretty good.”

I wasn’t sure I was hearing what I hoped I was hearing.

“Work on a few things?  You want to do this again?”

Randira let her big breasts fall to each side and stroked my softening cock.

“Well, sure.  I don’t teach this to just anybody, you know.  I want to do this a lot, like as soon as your dick gets hard again, and every weekend.”

I learned a lot that semester.  I managed, thanks to Randira, to get a “B” in Rhetoric 101.  Also, thanks to Randira, I learned a lot about women, or at least a lot about what she liked.  Randira liked one finger in her at first, then two when she got really aroused and she liked having her clit stroked with my thumb.  She also liked me to roll one of her nipples with my free hand.  That was almost guaranteed to make her cum.  It always made me cum.  

Her nipples were already pretty big, but once she got going, they swelled up long and stiff, and if I pinched one lightly and then rolled it between my fingers, she’d rock up her hips and moan really loud.  After just a few or those moans, she’d hold her breath while her hips started to lift up and then she gasp and start to shake as the orgasm swept through her.  All that shaking made her big breasts jiggle, and that jiggle took away all my will power.  Randira would end up with my cum splattered all over her face and chest.

I wasn’t sure what was going to happen when the semester ended, but a week before finals, Randira answered that question.  We’d just done another Russian thing, and once she stopped shaking, she looked up at me and smiled.

“You know, Jerry, I’ve sort of gotten used to having you around.  Think we could keep doing this on the weekends?

“I won’t have any assignments for you to look at.”

Randira stroked my soft cock.

“I wasn’t talking about helping you with your homework.  I was talking about what we just did.”

As it turned out, I kept going to her apartment every Saturday and staying over until Sunday night for the next three years, and when I turned twenty-one, I moved into the apartment with her.  What caused me to do that wasn’t Randira’s idea of safe sex.  It was that the more I learned about her, the more I liked her.  Yes, her ideas about sex were still a little weird to me, but what I found out was she was a very intelligent woman who definitely had confidence in herself and when I thought about it, I couldn’t imagine not being with her.

That fourth year, we were both seniors and looking forward to graduation and then jobs.  It was a month before graduation I asked Randira to marry me.  She looked at me and frowned.

“You aren’t really serious, are you?  I mean, all this time you’ve never said anything about wanting us to be more.”

Well, that statement hit me like a ton of bricks, because it was true.  I’d been going along, enjoying my time with Randira and I thought she liked being with me.  I should have said something to her before, but I guess like everything else, I hadn’t learned the proper way to do things.

“I’m sorry, Randira.  I just thought since we’ve lived together for a year, you liked me as much as I like you.  I guess you’re telling me no.”

She smiled then.

“I didn’t say no, did I?  All I asked was if you were serious.  If you are, you need to tell me why before I answer you.”

Why was a question I’d asked myself a thousand times over that last year.  I thought I loved Randira, but I’d never loved anybody before so I wasn’t sure.

“Randira, I don’t really know why.  I know you want me to say I love you, but I’ve never felt this way about a woman before and I don’t know if that’s what love is.  All I know for sure is I don’t want to leave you when we graduate and never see you again.”

Randira put her arms around my neck.

“I think that’s what love means.  I feel the same way about you.  It just wasn’t my place to ask first.  I can say it though.  Jerry, I love you.  Can you say it too?”

We were married a month after graduation and spent a week in Mussel Shoals for our honeymoon.  That first night, in spite of all the pseudo-sex we’d had over the years, I was still nervous as a cat.  Randira seemed a little nervous too.  

For four years, she always used the bathroom and came out naked before we did our Russian thing.  That night, she came out of the bathroom wearing a white lace gown.

“This was the gown my mother wore the night she and Dad got married.  She said it made her feel sexy.  I was hoping it would make you think I’m sexy too.”

I had to chuckle.  For four years, I’d seen Randira naked almost every night and I was already convinced she was sexy.  I took her in my arms, kissed her, and then grinned.

“Randira, you’ve always been more sexy than any other woman to me.”

Randira smiled and stroked my face.

“Then, shouldn’t you be showing me how sexy you think I am?”

Now, some guys, after doing what I’d done with Randira over the past four years would have forgotten she was still technically a virgin, but I didn’t.  I knew that first thrust would probably hurt her, so I tried to make sure she was ready.  

I knew enough about her to know what excited her, so I basically did the same things that night.  Randira responded about like she always had, except I could tell she was a little unsure.  She was breathing hard and rocking herself into my fingers as I sucked first one nipple and then the other, but when I tried to spread her legs, she tensed up.

“Jerry, can you take it easy, at least at first?  I’m afraid it’s going to hurt a lot.”

I stroked her cheek then.

“I promise I won’t do anything until you’re ready.  You just tell me when you are.”

I kept up with my fingers then, kept stroking her inner lips and little button, and occasionally slipping in two fingers to see how wet she was.  It wasn’t long until I knew she had to be close, and Randira confirmed that when she spread her legs apart and pulled on my shoulders.

“I’m almost there, Jerry.  Do it now”.

She was so wet and her hips were rocking up and down so much it was a little difficult to get my cock positioned, and once it slipped between her swollen lips and was at her entrance, it took all I had to stop myself from just thrusting in fast.  Instead, I pushed my cock in until I felt resistance and then pulled back a little.  I waited a second or two and then pushed in again a little firmer this time.  I stayed that way while I moved my hand between us and found the little button at the top of Randira’s lips.  After a couple of gentle strokes to the side of that little nub, Randira gasped and rocked up her hips.  My cock slipped inside her a little more before I pulled back again.  

I was still stroking her little button when I pushed my cock in again, but this time, I kept pushing.  Randira gasped, then heaved up her hips as her orgasm hit, and my cock broke through the barrier and sank inside her to its full length.  

Randira shrieked a little, but I think the orgasm wiped away most of the pain she felt.  I know it wiped away any willpower I had left.  With that one, first stroke, I started to cum.  After three more strokes during which Randira kept shaking and rocking her hips up and down, I was done.  Randira kept up her gasping and shaking for a few more seconds, then pulled me down on top of her.

“Mom was right.  It did hurt, but not that bad.  It does now though, so could you…I mean, I like feeling you in there, but it does hurt a little.”

Randira winced when I pulled out, but then snuggled up beside me and pressed her big breasts into my side.

“We’ll have to do this again, but maybe not until tomorrow, OK?”

I squeezed stroked her back and then cupped her hip.

“When you’re ready, you just tell me.”

Well, the next morning, Randira found my cock under the blanket and started stroking it.  She kissed me, and then said, “I don’t think I’m ready yet, but what would you say to the Russian way again?”

That sort of became the way our life went.  Once Randira decided she was ready to feel my cock in her again, only a couple of days later as it was, she was ready about every night.  There were nights when she couldn’t, or at least didn’t want to, so we did her Russian thing again.  Even after twenty three years, she’ll still grab my cock and whisper in my ear.  

“Remember what we used to do in college?  I feel like doing it that way tonight.”

I guess some people would find that strange, but we don’t.  It’s just a way of showing our love for each other that we enjoy.  We don’t tell others about it much, though Randira did tell the woman who does her hair.  The woman’s response was a little revealing, I thought.

“Maybe if I’d done that with Ralph, we’d still be together.  He always loved playing with my boobs.”

The women in my family haven’t changed much, although the women my age are a little more free when they talk about sex.  They’ll at least admit to liking sex, though they’re still really quiet about what they like.  The men…well, they haven’t changed much.  They still readily admit to liking sex with their wives, and a couple have some interesting stories about their sexual encounters before they got married.

I never share mine.  They probably wouldn’t understand anyway.