Hot magazine stories to read. Category: Intimate

As a child, I really loved leaning on the lid of the secretary. My mother scolded me very much for this, because on top of the secretary there was a beautiful tea set brought by my grandmother from Ashgabat. And then one day, while doing homework, I once again leaned on my elbow. There was a terrible roar. My grandmother rushed in, saw the broken set, grabbed me in her arms and ran outside. And only below did she come to her senses that she was in Leningrad, and there was no earthquake here. Oh, and it hit me then! And in the evening my mother added...

I am a very calm person who rarely raises my voice. But there is one way that makes me scream - mirrors in a closed room from which there is no exit. My boyfriend decided to play a trick on me somehow, to make sure that I could raise my voice too. One fine morning I woke up in a locked room with a dozen rather large mirrors. He found me two hours later under the table in hysterics, the nightmares did not leave me for several more months. The guy is gone.

I work in a cinema for two. Couples in love usually come. Romance, films, delicious food, wine, kisses... But how infuriating are those who cross the line of kisses and take things to the horizontal plane. There is a camera, an announcement at the entrance, and we tell guests this too, but it’s a pity that not everyone gets it.

My husband and I decided to take a serious step - adopt a child. The daughter of our distant relatives, there was a fire in the house, she was the only one saved. At first she was silent all the time, then she began to speak occasionally. But in two years this has not progressed further. I dreamed that we would replace her family, but she is still as cold. I don’t blame anyone, but this makes me so sad.

I recently cheated on my husband because he’s a fucking workaholic, and we last had sex a year and a half ago. I love him very much, but I couldn’t stand it. I went to the city to visit a friend, went to a club and slept with a guy whose name I don’t even know. He fucked the soul out of me, and I returned home happy, to which my husband suggested going to see her more often. On the one hand, I finally felt like a desirable girl, but on the other hand, the cats were scratching at my soul.

Grandmother and grandfather met in the park when grandmother, headlong, ran home, shielding herself from the pouring rain with her hands. She accidentally bumped into him, knocking him off his feet. Mom and Dad found out about each other at a school disco, when Mom accidentally collided with Dad, knocking him to the floor, falling on top of him to the tune of a slow song. And I found my love in a garbage dump when, without looking, I threw a bag of garbage into a barrel and accidentally hit the guy, knocking him down and dropping him straight into the trash. But I found it.

Half a year ago I was hit by a car. As a result, a spinal injury and a wheelchair. My husband supported me as best he could and blew away specks of dust. Recently, doctors said that I can undergo surgery, there is a 50/50 chance that I will be able to walk again, but the condition may worsen. My husband, with tears in his eyes, begged me not to take such risks, he would take care of me. I really started to fear intervention. And then my tablet broke, I took my husband’s laptop and found a bunch of porn with disabled people. I'll have surgery soon.

I have a strange mania for inventing dialogues for various pieces of furniture. So I was sitting in line at the clinic, a woman was pulling the handle of the office, the door was closed, and I immediately imagined a dialogue between two doors: - Oh, why are you pulling, you’ll tear it off! Don't you see? Closed! No, did you see it? She's pulling here! Let me wipe off the polish on my hand! - Hmmm, people have gone! They either kick or clap. My mother told me, go to paper...

I often select music for performances. This is a labor-intensive process, you can sit for several days and listen, listen, listen, until notes slip through the pile of music, which begins to seem the same, that catch you. And how many incredible melodies found along the way are now in my piggy bank and waiting in the wings! I want to have the opportunity to show all the images that this music paints.

I have a scar on my tongue from teeth. According to my parents, when I was two years old, I was sitting on a chair, and my older brother pushed him, I fell, hit my head on the radiator and bit my tongue. My parents thought it would heal, so they didn’t stitch it up. As a child, a friend called this scar a pocket, because a piece of skin can be pushed away with your teeth and a depression can be seen. The expression on the faces of the people to whom I tell this story and in conclusion I stick my tongue out is priceless!

My grandmother is 84. She has beautiful makeup, hair, a dress and heels. She has a husband who is 17 years younger, who loves her madly. She runs on the treadmill on the balcony in the morning, cooks like crazy, sings great and sews amazing clothes to order. And I just want to be like her, at least at 70 years old, and not just at 80 and a half!

No matter how many times I meet people, every time I manage to ruin their attitude towards myself with amazing skill. Because... Apparently, I don’t understand the personal side of each person. A careless action or word - the relationship becomes strained, and they themselves become like strangers. I don’t even know how many times I’ve seen this in my life. People with whom, it seemed, he could communicate about anything and constantly, now barely exchange a few phrases...

They have diagnosed a heart defect and need to fly for surgery. And then a friend says that it is expensive to deliver the body, and many people bring the ashes back in urns. The positivity disappeared, I saw my husband looking for delivery of the body. She said as if she spat... I feel sorry for my loved ones - they are worried, and I myself became scared. We are realists, but here it’s hard and scary.

In life I am a gray mouse. But after sex I become more beautiful. The eyes shine, the lips become slightly plump and bright, the skin becomes beautifully pale, the cheeks are rosy. I even learned how to use it: if I had to attend an event, I made love before it, it helped more than makeup. The only thing I didn’t take into account was that this feature was noticed not only by me, but also by my beloved husband. My former beloved husband, who burned my beautiful me after work.

I moved into the apartment where my friends had lived before. From their stories: they fucked on the table and made as much noise as possible, for which all their neighbors hated them. On the first evening, around 10, I decided to move the closet a little. Five minutes later, all the grandmothers in the world came out, shouting that I was a whore and organizing orgies, and another half hour later two policemen arrived. When they saw me in my pajamas and my cat, who had shit himself from knocking on the door, they apologized for a long time, and then for another half an hour they reprimanded the neighbors on the stairs.

I never liked visiting my grandmother. The whole family came once a year for a couple of days, and the trash started. A drinking session with moonshine and a fight, in which my grandmother and her sons took part, and after that she tried to educate 7-9-year-old me about sex in all the nasty details. In the next argument, when she lifted her skirt and showed where to go, I found out that she wasn’t wearing underwear either. It’s a pity that I didn’t recognize the other grandmother - she died when I was one year old(

I recently came across a series about Katya Pushkareva. My God, then her image seemed terrible, but today she’s downright trendy, but everyone who was in style looks like a moron. What a strange thing fashion is!

When the war began, my grandfather went to the front, and my grandmother and her four-year-old daughter were evacuated. Life was hard, there was not enough food, my daughter was very sick. Grandmother was a beauty, and an officer of high rank looked after her, bringing her stew, butter, chocolate. And she gave in. The girl recovered quickly on good nutrition. When my grandfather returned from the war, my grandmother immediately confessed to him. He smoked, paused and said: “Thank you for saving your daughter.” They lived together for 55 years, and he never reproached her with a word.

I can't stand cash coins. Seeing them immediately makes you sick. As a child, I had a habit of collecting small change around the house and stuffing it into my mouth. Years have passed, the habit has gone, but only now I understand that it was disgusting.

I hate this spring, because it’s impossible to look down at the phone normally! You get on the minibus after the street, bend over the phone, and snot flows down so treacherously...

For a long time in the office I picked out huge boogers and sculpted them at the table. I kept thinking that I would clean it up later. While I was on vacation, we moved to another office, and the boss sat there. It's a shame to go back to work

As a child, I was afraid of old people because it seemed to me that they would steal my youth in order to prolong their life. And because I was a sweet child, they often took me on their laps in crowded transport. Minutes of horror.

My husband works for an agricultural company - he plows fields and transports crops. At work he drives a tractor, and when we get bored at home, he asks: “What is 150+150?” I say: “300,” and go to suck the tractor driver)

Before each flight, of which there are not many, I set a status from the “life is so short” series or make a post with the song “If I die young”. If I suddenly die in a plane crash, then everyone will come to my page and think that I had a presentiment of my death. I suffer from aerophobia.

Since childhood, my dad beat me and tormented me mentally until I left home. Now I live abroad and communicate occasionally via messenger. Once, while telling him a story, I swore. Dad was absolutely blown away by the fact that I didn’t respect him because I “cussed in front of him.” And that if I continue to swear, he will stop communicating with me. And I really thought about the fact that I don’t respect him and that if he stops communicating with me, I won’t be very upset.

I recently heard from friends whose baby is a month old, that it’s time to baptize the baby. She casually asked whether they had read the Bible (no); Do they even know “Our Father” (also no); What time was Jesus baptized and was he even baptized? The last question left them stumped. Then I asked why such a baby should be baptized. The answer was brilliant: “Well, wow, we seem to be Orthodox...” Orthodox, who didn’t even hold the Bible in their hands, but wear a cross as an ornament. It's annoying!

Grandma always scolds me when she sees HOW I peel potatoes. He says that during the war, my cleaning could feed the entire village.

I was returning home from the store. My five-year-old daughter ran into the elevator, and I was dragging my bags behind. And then someone calls the elevator, I don’t have time. The doors close and I hear my daughter screaming as she drives up. I throw my bags, rush around the floors, trying to figure out where the scream is coming from. Made it to seventh. You should have seen the face of the man who was waiting for the elevator. When the doors opened, in front of him stood a little angry girl, crying, who ran into him, yelling in the bass voice of a healthy man: “Where is my mother?! Answer!”

I identify men by their butts. Round, plump butts or loose hips, more like a woman's, - most likely, he is lazy, and he may also be cunning or a mama's boy. How many times has it coincided!

I started dating a 19-year-old girl who smokes, drinks and doesn’t mind earning extra money for a blow job. He wanted to put her on the right path, moved in with her, got a better-paying job to support her and her mother. As a result, over the course of three years I almost became a drunkard myself, and they wanted to imprison me twice. He left and left. Fuck such charity. Occasionally we communicate as friends. I don’t regret my action, I don’t plan to repeat it. I don’t drink at all, I’m 27.

Psychologists have long proven that when a person expresses his thoughts on paper, it greatly calms him down, and the situation seems to clear up.

When you see your story printed, there is an effect of observing from the outside. You seem to distance yourself from the situation, and when you read your own story, it seems like it happened to someone else.

Very often this makes it possible to take a sober look at things and look at them from a different angle. At such moments, your own brain can suggest an answer to a question that previously seemed insoluble. After all, we all know how to give advice when it’s not about ourselves. Someone else's situation always seems simpler and clearer.

It is for such a case that this section on the site was created.

Real women's stories

How to write your story?

My name is Elena and I am the administrator of this site for filling it with articles and working with readers. You can use , or write a letter to dlyavass2009LAIKAyandex.ru (instead of the word “like”, substitute the @ icon), attach the story as an attached file. If you don't know how to do this, write directly in the letter. Required: in the “Email Subject” field, indicate “HISTORY”. Like here, in large letters.

Don't try to create a literary masterpiece. It is important for you to tell everything in your own words, the way you are used to expressing yourself. Also, don't try to avoid grammatical errors. Write from the heart. Only then will the description of the situation have a psychological effect and you will feel better. This way, you will be able to see your story not only the way you see it, but also from a different point of view, although all the events and facts presented in it will remain unchanged.

And further. Send not only stories about what happened to you recently and what you have not yet figured out. Write about cases that once seemed insoluble to you, but ended in something good. Such letters will help those who at the moment feel like everything is going down the drain and there is no way out.

Thanks to everyone who has already shared their real life stories, and to those who are just about to do so.

Elena Bogushevskaya

It has always been difficult for me to get along with people. Back at school, I always stood on the sidelines while my classmates whispered, giggled and shot their eyes at the boys. I was simply not interested in maintaining these conversations about anything, and my pride did not allow it to be imposed.

The same thing continued when I entered university. There were the same girls here who looked at my not-too-fashionable sweaters and not-too-short skirts with contemptuous and condescending glances and walked past. The guys also didn’t notice me at all, flirting with all their might with my classmates - bright, fashionable and lively.

At first I tried to convince myself that none of this bothered me. But how sometimes I wanted to turn the situation around, to let everyone know that I’m not such a gray mouse, that it’s interesting to talk to me! Several timid attempts to get closer to my classmates ended in nothing - simply no one heard my quiet remarks, I stood nearby, like a poor relative, and quietly walked away, burning with shame.

HARD CASE

Lyudochka Samoilova reigned at the university.

For women who neglect caution and common sense in an effort to dramatically change their lives, fate often cruelly takes revenge for their disobedience. At one time I threw myself into the pool headlong, for which I ended up paying, having experienced a lot of adversity.

For a long time, everything in my life was normal and predictable. After school, she completed typist courses and got a job as a secretary in one of the offices. In my free time, I met with friends, went to the movies, and went dancing. There I met my future husband. Sergei worked at a factory, he was good looking, and his character suited me quite well. When he and I decided to get married, his parents decided to leave for the village and left us an apartment. And then everything went as usual: a daughter was born, we started saving for a car, went out into nature on weekends, and spent our holidays in the countryside. We looked after the garden, went for mushrooms, swam in the river. And everything would be fine, but some kind of anxiety was gnawing at me, and every now and then the thought crept in: is this really how my whole life will go? I was bored, dissatisfied, dreaming of something unrealistic. I understand now that I was simply toiling without love, and then everything seemed gray and hopeless. At work, the girls talked about dating

When one day my husband Igor quoted Gogol’s “Dead Souls” to me and called me Plyushkina, I was terribly offended. He said that I was “bringing all the junk into the house.” And our house, they say, is not made of rubber at all. But this is shameless slander! I only bring the things I need into the house!

And it all started because of a mere trifle: he decided to get his fishing gear from the mezzanine, and when he opened the door, a voluminous package with things that I had recently bought and had not yet managed to determine a place for them fell right on his head. Among the various rags in the same bag was a new stainless steel saucepan.

A week before, on Sunday, when we had guests, our three-year-old Maxim spilled cocoa on my lap—the end of my favorite dress. I had to urgently console myself with something: Galina and I went to the shopping center. In the end, I bought a frilly skirt, four tops in different colors, two pairs of trousers and a stunning dress in the very fashionable color lilac. While spinning home, I sat in front of the closet for half an hour, thinking: where should I put all this? We had to temporarily send him to the mezzanine. Our closet is kind of small, we need to buy a new one.

CREATIVE PERSONALITIES

Who is not familiar with the situation: your beloved man leaves you, you suffer and suffer for a long time. And many years later, having accidentally met your ex-lover, you wonder: why was I so obsessed with this man?

Our romance with Denis can be compared to a roller coaster - ups and downs. We quarreled violently, made up no less violently, parted “forever,” and then met again, unable to bear the separation. But, apparently, at some point he got tired of these passions, and he decided to settle down to a quiet haven. And after our next quarrel, he didn’t call again. And I waited, hoped - well, how? After all, we were created for each other, and the degree of our closeness is such that it cannot be higher. Finally I couldn’t stand it and called him myself.

“I recently got married,” I heard such a familiar voice on the phone.

Yes, Nadya. Our relationship with you has reached a dead end. And I didn’t want my family to become a battleground.

However, he is worried not so much about my fading face as about the imperfection of my figure. “Honey, at your age you need to take more care of your body” - I hear this several times a day. The husband is not only younger, he is also a fitness trainer in one of the most fashionable city clubs. This is my life.

MOTHER-GRANDMOTHER

I wanted to write “but it all started so beautifully,” then I realized that this was not true, it all didn’t start very beautifully. Can you tell us a few words about yourself?

I have long wanted to write about my friend. But somehow the puzzles in my head just don’t fit.

Probably not enough for a single post.

There are people who are mysteries. I happened to meet one of these about 25 years ago. The victim in the criminal case was a music teacher. Thin, agile. Like mercury, she immediately became comfortable in my office, warned me that she had trouble hearing, and showed me a hearing aid.

From that day our many years of communication began. You don't meet interesting people every day. And she was one of those.

Here's her story. I can’t ask permission, because the woman is no longer there.

At the age of 5, Tamara (that’s her real name) became almost deaf. This happened after the flu. The most offensive thing for her was that the children refused to play with her and began to tease her.
Then my father bought a piano and hired a visiting music teacher. Then I somehow managed to get accepted into a music school.

Her family life was unsuccessful. Soon after the birth of her daughter, she and her husband had to separate. She said about this period that she slept constantly. I understood that this was not normal, but I couldn’t help myself.

One day, while cleaning the apartment, I found packs of sleeping pills and several already empty packs. Here the secret of her hibernation was revealed.

Then there was a long conversation with my husband, a difficult separation for both. And misunderstanding on the part of the mother. The cool relationship between them remained throughout their lives. I remember this proud beautiful woman - a Bank employee. She managed to outlive her youngest daughter.

The reason why Tamara sought protection was common for single women.
A gentleman was found, he surrounded her with attention and care, and began to enter her apartment. But the good things didn't last long.

He turned out to be a jealous and cruel person. Demanded a report on any matter. The showdown ended in torture - he put out cigarettes on her, poked her with a sharp object, and did not let her go to work. This took a long time.

Tamara wrote to the district police officer, tried to free her apartment from the tenant, underwent forensic examinations, and hid them through friends.

By the time the criminal case was initiated, there was a lot of evidence. Therefore, it was possible to assign the gentleman to a colony for three years.

He turned out to be affectionate. Letters were sent from the colony, first about love and asking for forgiveness, then with threats and promises to bring the matter to an end.

These three years flew by quickly.

One spring day we were sitting near the piano in her room (I was taking lessons from her at the time) when they started knocking on the door. I immediately realized from Tamara’s face who was standing behind the door.

This was our carer. He quickly got wound up because they wouldn’t open it, screamed, and kicked the door. We were afraid that the door would not hold and jumped out through the open window.

It is clear that she and the child needed to wait somewhere temporarily so that the carer would calm down and stop pursuing her.

I offered my apartment. My husband had died by then. The children didn't mind. And Tamara settled with her daughter in one of our rooms.

These couple of months have not been easy for me. By nature I am a home person, I like things to be calm and measured. And then you feel like the wind has burst into your life.

Tamara cared about everything. She was constantly running somewhere, helping someone, repairing something, knitting, composing. Somehow, casually, she became interested in her daughter’s affairs and ran away again.

And one day she announced that she was ready to return home, that she had met a young guy. He returned from the Army, knows about her problems and offered his protection. As a friend. No more.

This friend turned out to be a little older than my son. Silent, sedate, laconic, he kept to himself. Almost like in the "ice and fire" poems.

Several times I saw these completely different people next to each other. Thin, dark-haired Tamara, ready to take off at any moment, conducted the conversation. She needed time to understand what they were talking about. Helping, teaching - that was her mission.

Andrei carefully peered into her face, spoke loudly and articulately, not paying attention to those around her. He clearly felt in the role of the elder, although the difference in their ages was at least 10 years. Maybe more.

To be continued.

When I was 17 years old, I went to visit my grandmother in a village that was located in Ukraine on the outskirts of Kharkov. Back then, when I was still at school, I often went there to take a walk, chat with my old friends and acquaintances, meet relatives, and just to take a break from city life. There, if you go by car or motorcycle, there is the Seversky Donets River and a huge forest nearby. I loved that place very much and often vacationed there until I entered university, got married and moved to Russia. I'll start with some background. When my aunt was about my age, she met a guy there - Misha. Their relationship was developing well and they had already begun to talk about marriage, when suddenly everything changed spontaneously. They just both cooled down towards each other and that’s where their relationship ended. Although they remained friends and still communicate after all these years. About 5 years later he had a son, Kirill (Kirya, that’s what I call him), whom I’ll tell you about later. And that's where we finish the prehistory. So, I’ll continue where I started this fascinating story))). I got together with my girlfriends there to go to a local disco club, dance, drink, unwind, and so on, well, in general it’s clear... but so far without any vulgar subtext!!!)))) That’s where I met this Kirill and his girlfriend Alina, who turned out to be my best friend’s cousin. At that time, Kira was 19. Having gotten to know each other a little better, after hanging out in the same company for a couple of weeks, he and I realized that we were old acquaintances and maybe even friends. It turns out that a very long time ago, when we were still children: I was probably 6 years old then, and he was two years older... and in the next 5 years we often went to the forest in this village for night picnics around the fire. And by the way, I was there with my aunt and her fiance, and he was with his father, Uncle Misha, and his mother. I remembered something similar, but I didn’t know that it was this particular Kirill))) We started communicating well and, out of old friendship, he offered to introduce me to his best friend, who just needed to be consoled after another breakup with girl. I didn’t mind, because at that time I was lonely and I finally wanted a boyfriend. The next day, Kirya introduced me to Igor (18 years old) and his older brother Denis (20 years old). We talked, liked each other, and it seemed like something was happening between us. About a week later, we decided to go together (Me, Igor, Denis, Kirill and Alina) to “check in” with Kira, so to speak, have a drink and watch movies. First we went to the river to swim, fried sausages over a fire and vegetables, then we stopped at a store on the way home, bought some alcohol and went to our destination. Upon arrival, we sat and talked and it was already getting close to bed, and the body was getting close to bed. Alina fell asleep halfway through the film. The boys and I are left, Igor and I are already kissing, passion, emotions and all that)). We sat, laughed, and Kirya and my boyfriend went out to smoke while Denis went to the restroom. But he quickly returned from there and sat down with me. we looked at each other... a spark flashed and we started kissing. I liked it and was ashamed of myself at the same time. Suddenly the “smokers” come in and I try to push Den away, but he presses me even more. In the end, Igor said that he was not offended because he had made peace with his girlfriend, so there was nothing wrong with what happened. Denis and I went to the bedroom and just went to bed. Now he was my boyfriend. At night, when I thought everyone was asleep, I went outside to drink water and smoke. I made myself some coffee, took a cigarette from Dan while he was sleeping and went around the corner of the house. I smoke...I don’t touch anyone...nothing portends trouble or the appearance of people. Kirill approaches me from around the corner. I was taken aback. He takes the cigarette from me, draws, then pulls me towards him and exhales smoke into my mouth (gypsy kiss). I look up, and he is still holding me next to him. We started kissing like I had never kissed anyone before. he said that he had long wanted to do this, but there was no suitable opportunity. We went to drink my coffee in the gazebo near the house in his yard. We are sitting. He puts my legs on his and climbs into my panties, at the same time kisses my neck and collarbones, then moves to my lips, we begin to kiss passionately. He takes out his dick. I understand what he wants. And this, one might say, is my first time. “You can say”,. because the first time with my ex, nothing really worked out (he made me not a virgin, twitched for a minute and he fell, impotent). I give Kirill a blowjob. Then I sit on top of him and we start fucking right in the gazebo, slowly at first, gradually speeding up almost to the point of losing our pulse. At the moment when he AHHHHHHH “loves” me on the table, Alina goes out onto the street. She woke up from the noise. I was moaning SO loudly that the dogs started howling, if only someone wouldn’t wake up. She didn’t immediately understand what was going on. She didn’t even suspect who I was there with, because it was still dark. But Kirya didn’t stop, he just entered me stronger and deeper each time. We both liked it. Alina stood there and went into the house, saying “I won’t disturb you.”...she still thought that I was with Igor...she didn’t know how life changes while she sleeps)))). At that moment, Kirill, with a sharp movement, turns me over on my stomach on the table and continues to fuck me like a bitch))) Then he came inside me. Twice! Because he didn't want to stop it at all. Fortunately, I took contraceptive COCs for medicinal purposes. We sat in the gazebo for a little while longer, hoping that Alya would go to bed and finally decided to go into the house... she sat and cried. She realized that I was with Kirya when she didn’t find HIM, but found Igor and Den in the house. But nothing could be returned and I didn’t regret what happened at all. Alina and Kirill broke up after dating for almost 2 years. Now Kirei and I had great sex every day of the rest that I spent there until the beginning of September. We fucked the same way as the first time, everywhere it was possible... and where we couldn’t, too.))) Then I left and came back next year. He was dating some girl again. And this happened every year. History repeated itself as soon as I arrived there. I’m not at all ashamed that I took him away from the girls 5 times. But I fucked him enough)))