Practice Reading Russian Novels & Stories

“Lift your boobs and put them on my cock.” My hands moved to my breasts, almost as if he had cast a spell. I let out a soft moan as I lowered them, pressing them slowly against his cock. His cock twitched, moving slightly against me, earning a low groan from him. That sound sent unfamiliar rhythmic pulses of heat straight to my pussy. “Eta devushka menya ubivayet. CHORT,” he groaned, his Russian accent thick in his voice. “Glide your breasts up and down my dick, moyo iskusheniye.”

“Who are you? / Kto ty? 2. “Dominic, what are you doing here? / Chto ty zdes' delayesh'? 3. “She is a friend, she does not speak Russian / Ona drug, por russki ne govorit. 4. “Good morning, Luna /Dobroye utro luna 5. “They all have to go in and kill him, damn it! / Oni vse dolzhny voyti i, blyat', ubit' yego!

I was grateful for all those hours spent practicing Italian phrases, memorizing vocabulary, and brushing up on grammar. The first section was on grammar. I read each question carefully, making sure I understood what was being asked. Verbs, conjugations, sentence structure—it was all there. I moved slowly and methodically through the questions, recalling the rules I’d memorized. I could almost hear myself repeating phrases I’d practiced around the house, which helped keep me calm and focused.

Ambrose spat out his own perception of the name. “Yeah, I agree with that.” I nodded after realizing it really sounded Russian and you might have to pronounce the letter r with some sort of thickness to it. “So how was Dimitri’s night?” I asked trying my best to pronounce the name with the thickness right on the syllable where the letter r is. “Dimitri just had the best night of his life.” Ambrose rebutted and he even copied the way I said Dimitri. He sounded cute when he tried to copy me.

Chantelle urged. I looked at Chantelle, her pitch-black hair, stunning ocean eyes—beautiful she was. She held the canvas with a tough grip like one who wasn't willing to let her dreams go. I racked my brain for something to say. "You dazzle me with your beauty, but vex me with mischief," I said in Russian, my pronunciation rusty but passable. "What does that mean?" Chantelle asked. "You'll have to learn Russian to find out," I replied with a smirk.

How would you say good morning in Russian? She smiled even wider, rolled onto her back with a groan, stretched, straightening her stiff muscles, and gave out some kind of long tirade in Russian. Hank looked at her questioningly, raising his eyebrows. “Mornings are never good…” she duplicated, shivering. “Especially this early, on a cold bench in the park. “But here the whole world is at your feet,” Hank said cheerfully, holding out his hand to her. "Look how pretty...

Rus instructed "then you strike with the sword" Elle did exactly as she was told but Rus wasn't impressed, he turned towards Demi and Demi moved in front of Elle; holding a fake sword. "Watch me" he said and showed her what she is meant to do "did you get that?" "No, you were too fast" Demi sighed and demonstrated it again, this time slower than the first time "oh, I get it now" Elle said and did exactly what Demi did. "Yes! Do it again" Rus said and Elle did it again. She continually did it for 6 minutes and Rus nodded in satisfaction "your grip has gotten better and so has your movement."

When everyone settled into the pews behind us, he shifted from foot to foot and cleared his throat as if the noise brought him out of the trance. Shaking his head, Aleksander faced the priest. He licked his lips before pushing out an unsteady exhale. His throat bobbed slowly. "You look so damn good. Moy Chlen tverdyy", I had learned enough Russian in the past few months to know what that meant. I tried to pay attention to the priest but my eyes drifted to the straining outline in Aleksander's pants. More than a blush, a furious flame spread across my face to my ears. I was seriously affecting him.

Ash hums, “Probably Russian, because of our family ties there, we speak it with Carlotta all the time.” She nods, “But written?” He furrows his brow, “It’s been a while, but it’s hard to unlearn.” She types something on her phone and holds it up to him. He reads it, and grins. In flawless Russian it read: ‘I enjoyed it when I sucked your cocks earlier.’. Gods, she had a filthy mind. He licks his lips and smiles at her, “Me too.” She smirks, and switches to a muscovite accent, again flawless.

His tongue moving in quick movements, making figures around my clit and licking me up and down. “U tebya chertovski khoroshiy vkus, zhena. Ya mog by preklonit’ koleni pered toboy do kontsa svoyey zhizni.” You taste so fucking good, wife. I could kneel for you for the rest of my life. He vowed in Russian, making my stomach quiver and a loud moan slipped from me when he pulled back, set back on his haunches and slammed three fingers inside me. Stretching me, hurting me so good that my pleasure intensified and prolonged for long minutes as my body shuddered and I slumped down on the bed unable to hold myself up anymore.