This book is the second in a series. Each book contains an erotic story. These correspond in part to my life, my real experiences. The rest is a flip-flop movie. My stories are therefore a mixture of wishes, longings, real adventures and masturbation fantasies.

And now to me: I was born in 1982 in the Soviet Union. Specifically, in Rybinsk, in the sign of Sagittarius. We emigrated to Germany in 1996. Our way led us to Berlin at that time.

I am 162 cm tall and of cosy but aesthetic figure. I've got a full 95 E-cup. My hair is naturally blonde and my eyes are green to bluish. I have been wearing my hair for many years in short and in different colours.

Meanwhile I'm heavily tattooed. To my father's annoyance, I also had the back of my hand tattooed. Well, now you have an optical image of me in the stories. But feel free to introduce yourself to something else.

I hope I can give you a little joy with my fantasies and experiences and/or inspire you to erotic acts;)

Of course, I would be very pleased about a positive evaluation and recommendations. To make reading more pleasant, I write from my own point of view.

Your Dunja

The reunion

August 2013, a month that has burned itself indelibly into my memory. Like every year I received an invitation to our class reunion. And this year we celebrated our 15th anniversary.

In 1999 and 2000 I took part in our annual class reunions. But not after that. And with good reason. I was very popular at school, I can even claim to have been the most popular girl in school. I was the princess of our high school and I wanted to be nothing less than a queen.

The girls were all jealous of me. I had everything. I was beautiful, I had good grades and a wealthy father who couldn't refuse any wishes. Whether expensive clothes or a new, expensive luxury car for the 18th birthday. The boys stood in line with me. What wouldn't they have done for a date with the Russian beauty?

But now everything was different. As a result of the economic crises, my father's company had to file for bankruptcy. We lost our property. Our status, our reputation. My father couldn't afford to pay for my studies anymore. That's why I had to stop it.

As an unskilled worker, I ended up in a glass factory in Berlin. But there my workplace was rationalized away. Like so many others. Further commitments like this followed. With every job I lost, I lost another piece of my dignity and pride.

Years, even decades, I had put myself above my classmates. And I didn't miss a chance to rub it in their faces. And now I was living on the poverty line, on the margins of society.

No matter if it's the fat Stephanie or Tomas the Spectacled Snake. They all used to live in my shadow and kiss the ground I walked over. It's over and done with. With melancholy I thought back to those days. Firmly determined to get there again.

Of course, the others knew long ago about my father's bankruptcy. But nobody knew what was really going on with me. They thought I'd caught myself a rich guy by now.

Unfortunately, this was not the case. When the class reunion took place, I worked as a barmaid in a table dance club in the red light milieu. There was probably only one step left, maybe two, which I could have lowered even further.

I did what a woman in my class always does. I ignored the invitation. But with every day the meeting came closer and closer. And with each day my curiosity grew and a small, perfidious idea. After many years, I registered for the first time in social networks.

I tried to find out everything I could about my former admirers. There were so many of them. So many desperate nerds and losers who would have sold their own mothers in our school days for a small, timid smile from me. Sven, that weird dwarf who wrote me a love letter in second grade. Tomas, the general nerd with horn-rimmed glasses. Hassim, the stinking Tunisian and son of the janitor. Or Marco the Fat Cheese Lobster with the Gulf of Man, simply disgusting.

The days went by, only a week to reunion. I wrote the losers from my school days after researching them. And it turns out they weren't even losers anymore. At least not the way it used to be. I must admit, I was amazed.

Sven had completed his studies as a media designer and worked in television. Tomas has made a lot of money as a software developer, not rich but quite wealthy. Hassim has just been promoted to lieutenant in the Bundeswehr. And Marco, Marco became even fatter but deserved to be an engineer at a big German company.

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