“привет! (Hello)” Anastasiya called in Russian, walking through the familiar front door. Her bone straight hair pulled into a ponytail swayed with every step. She took off her ballet flats at the door and lugged the grocery bags into the kitchen. She found him at the kitchen island going through his mail.

“No hello?” She smirked, setting the food on the counter.

“Yevgenia is gone.”

“What?” She turned to face him.

“Took the kids to her mother. She’s leaving me.

“Bryz, I’m sorry.” She says stepping towards him and putting a hand on his shoulder. She felt tiny against his huge body and she’d never seen him look so sad before.

Anastasiya had been their personal chef for the past year and she loved her job. They of course weren’t the only family she’d cooked for, but they were one of her favorites. They were one of the few that spoke Russian. When she first met them they were shocked she could speak the language of their homeland. Her dark skin fooled them well. Anastasiya’s dad was a Russian orthodox missionary and he fell in love with her South African mother. Anastasiya was born in a small industrial town outside Moscow. She came to the US with her father when she was 10 after he and her mother divorced.

“It’s okay.” He said folding his arms uncomfortably.

“My parents divorced when I was young. I know it was really hard on them, but they got through it. It’ll take some time, but it’ll be okay.” She gave him a small smile. He looked down and hugged her. He took the chance to inhale deeply, processing her floral scent.

“Do you still want dinner?” She asked letting go and heading to the food she abandoned on the counter.

“Please” he says taking a seat at the counter. Anastasiya begins to boil some water for the Pirozkis. She searched the cabinets for flour until she found it on the top shelf.

“Bryz, can you give me a boost. I need the flour.” She asked. He willingly got up and looked a little distracted from his stupor.

“Why don’t I just get it for you?” He said reaching up.

“No,” she moved him, grazing his strong chest gently. “I want help to get it. I don’t want you to get it for me.”

“Why you so picky. Want me help or no?” he says annoyed.

“Sorry” she mumbles staring down at her feet. Ilya takes a deep breath and puts his hands on his shoulders.

“No. I’m sorry. I’m just taking it out on you.” He said wrapping his arms around her. He rubs from her shoulders, down to her hands and with one hand he tilts her chin up to see him. She barely came up to his chin at only 5’5” and she tried not to look intimidated.

“It’s okay. I understand.” She smiled.

“You have beautiful smile.” he said slowly. He let his hand slide slowly from her neck to her collarbone, stopping momentarily to feel her heart race. His hand retreated to her shoulders and down her hands again. He laced their fingers and kept her gaze. Not leaving her with much room to move he leaned in for a deep kiss. She wanted to say something, to tell him no, but she was drowning in his kiss. She got of whiff of him. He smelt like….a man. Manlier than anybody she’d ever been with. Older too. She was only 22 and he must have been at least 10 years her senior. He drove his tongue past her lips and explored her mouth. It must have been the most intense kiss she’d ever had and she was no saint. She pulled away and looked up at him, wanting to speak, but nothing was coming out. She instead bit her lip embarrassed.

“I’ve seen you do that a million times an I always want to kiss you after.” He said forcefully kissing her again. He wraps his arms around her and her hands involuntarily reach for his biceps. After massaging her tongue with his he moves to her neck. She was wearing a neon orange v-neck that made her skin look flawless. He nipped and nibbled at the skin right below her ear and she moaned into his. “So sexy,” He whispers before cupping her ass and lifting her onto the counter. She lets out a small gasp as he slides down the straps of her black tank top.

He kisses every new inch he exposes before unclasping her bra and pushing her tank down to her waist. His eyes widen at the sight of her gravity-defying breasts.

“Oh My God-“ he barely gets out before suckling her right nipple into her mouth. He flicked with his tongue and she arched her back, pushing her breasts further in his face. He switched after paying the right one a decent amount of attention. He diligently provided her left with the same attention as her hands found their way through his short hair. Her head is spinning. This is the most perfect moment and she leans her head back to enjoy it all. For a split second she thinks about how wrong it is. He’s still married and sometimes she watches his kids, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was his lips on her.

He scoops up her body and heads towards the living room. Her arms and legs wrap around him for support.

“I notice you. Long time ago” he said between kisses. She just squinted confused. He set her on the couch gently and crawled down her body to her jeans.

“Bryz. What do you mean?” she asks, gasping as he kisses her hips.

He slides of her loose jeans and the tank top that was wrinkled around her waist. He took no time dragging down her thong.

“I think about you…..when I fuck her.” he said before diving into her wet snatch. She makes a barely audible screaming sound as his tongue is flicking her tender clit, his perfectly pointed nose, diving into her mound. She feels no need to respond as he makes her head spin. He’s on his knees in front of her, looking up through his long lashes.


They hadn’t had an affair. Hell she had no clue he even saw her, like really saw her. She thought he was attractive, but obviously had no plans of doing anything about it. Now she didn’t have to.

“God yes, Bryz.” She moaned as he pressed a spit-slicked finger in her slit. He gazed over the chocolate skin enveloping his fingers. He continued to flick her clit with his tongue when he slid another finger in. He sucked her folds into his mouth sloppily ad tried to press his hard, throbbing cock into the couch, but he was too far away. He groaned and pulled away quickly. She let out a disappointed sigh as he stepped back and ripped his clothes off. She sat with her legs spread as she admired his hatred for underwear. He was hard and obviously throbbing. He was much larger than she expected and he sunk down to his knees in front of her. He pulled her hips to the edge of the couch an kissed her gently. Mid-kiss he positioned himself at her opening. She moaned and he carefully pushed in her. He wasn’t extremely long, but he was very thick. She felt as if she was being split in two and made what must have been an inhuman noise. Her wet cunt squeezed around him and he stretched her. She was in ecstasy. His fingers drove into her hips as he swung his cock in and out of her. He planted a kiss on her lips and tugged at her bottom lip. She moaned and her nails dug into his back. He was nowhere near a minuteman, but she was very tight. He grimaced trying to hold his rising orgasm back.

He pulled out of her and turned her around so she was facing the tall pat of the couch. He climbed on behind her and pushed back inside. He leaned around and kissed her neck while he thrusted slowly. He wraps his hair in her hand and pulls back, arching her back. He used this grip on her hair as leverage for him to fuck her silly.

“Fuck” she screamed as he turned his hips upwards and his cock pounded at her G-spot. He did it again and again, causing her to grow weak as a ball of energy filled her core. He swung his hips into her one final time as she screamed his name. Her whole body tensed and a single tear fell from her face. He came too, groaning and throbbing. He hips shook just a little as she tried to regain her breath. He pulled her body over his and laid down on the bearskin rug. He kissed her neck and sighed.


“She left me because of you.”