#3015: Baku, Azerbaijan
Original photo: @snejanajens
In the sweltering heat of Baku’s old bazaar, Gunel and Huseyn’s secret romance simmers between spice stalls and stolen glances. When love triumphs over rivalry and a marriage proposal sparks a night of passion, the fire between them burns hotter than ever.
We’d really love your support on our mission to create ethical erotic audio. To help keep the stories cuming please visit ourPatreon link below, thanks for all your help, foxy friends 🦊
https://www.patreon.com/cumwithus
So Enjoy our Erotic Audio Stories and Cum With Us
Listen on:
Transcript
Summer heat in Baku is not for the faint of heart. Even those of us born and raised in the city—like me—sometimes struggle with it, hiding away in the shadows during the worst hours of the day. That morning, I saw the hot air shimmering above the concrete and knew it was going to be another scorcher. I wasn’t exactly thrilled.
That day, I was working with my father at our family’s spice stall, helping him sort and sell the vibrant, sharp-smelling herbs and ground spices. In Azerbaijan, food isn’t really food without the right mix of flavor, and that made our trade essential—but also highly competitive. Dozens of other families sold spices too. We all fought for customers.
I’d been trained from a young age: always smile, always be polite, always impress. I knew how to match spices to a dish and how to make a memorable first impression—but even so, my father still found things to criticize.
He stood behind me, visibly annoyed. Just a few feet away, another spice stall—our closest competition—was serving two customers. We had none, and it was eating at him. He sighed loudly, blaming my blue scarf, saying it made me look pale and sickly. “No one wants to buy spices from someone who looks unwell,” he grumbled.
I rolled my eyes. He didn’t really mean it—he was just frustrated someone else was doing better. I tried to reassure him that customers would come soon, but he remained in a sour mood.
Still, I couldn’t help sneaking glances at the stall across from us. Not out of rivalry—at least, not anymore.
Huseyn worked there. Just like me, he’d grown up in the bazaar, groomed to take over the family trade. As children, we played into the rivalry: he once dumped a bag of pepper on me, and I once stole his lunch and made him chase me around the stalls. We were brats, both of us.
But as we got older, something shifted. The teasing faded into occasional smiles, then small conversations, and soon enough, our interactions were filled with jokes, laughter, and something much deeper: love.
It wasn’t supposed to happen. Our families were competitors—if they found out, we knew it wouldn’t go over well. We tried to keep it hidden, unsure what the future would bring. But day by day, our bond grew stronger. We didn’t want a summer romance—we wanted forever.
The scarf my father had mocked? A gift from Huseyn. I wore it proudly, even if I had to lie about why.
The day dragged on. Customers came and went. We didn’t sell less than anyone else, but my father still looked dissatisfied. I tried not to think about how much more disappointed he’d be when he learned about Huseyn and me.
When the evening finally arrived, I told my father I wanted to go for a walk with friends. He asked who, and I rattled off a few names I knew would cover for me if needed. He nodded and let me go.
I walked out of the bazaar and down familiar streets, surrounded by Baku’s beautiful contrast—old-world charm colliding with modern skyscrapers. It was one of the things I loved most about the city: its ability to hold the past and the future side by side.
Eventually, I reached a sleek modern building, unlocked the door, and rode the elevator to the apartment Huseyn had waiting. It was our secret place, where we could be ourselves without judgment.
As soon as I walked in, I knew something was different. The scent of food filled the air, and candles glowed on the table. Then I saw Huseyn, bouquet in hand, smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.
He told me how much he loved me—how deeply he wanted to spend his life with me. My heart swelled as his words sank in. Then he said it: he hadn’t spoken to my father yet, not until he knew what my answer would be. And then... he pulled out a ring.
He asked me to be his wife.
Tears welled in my eyes. I kissed him again and again, overwhelmed with joy. I said yes—more than once—laughing and crying all at once.
He mentioned dinner, but I had other plans. I took his hand and led him to the bedroom.
We hadn’t had sex—we’d agreed to wait until marriage—but that didn’t mean we didn’t know how to enjoy each other.
As he undressed me, he kissed every inch of exposed skin, reverent and slow. I took off his shirt, running my hands across his chest, feeling his breath catch under my touch. We lay side by side, completely bare, gazing at each other like nothing else existed.
His cock was already hard, and I reached for it, wrapping one hand around him while my other massaged his balls. He kissed me deeper, his passion blooming. I felt his fingers trail down between my legs, and I eagerly opened them for him.
I was already wet, heat pulsing through me as his fingers found my clit and circled it with practiced precision. I whimpered into his mouth, melting into every stroke and caress. The way his cock pulsed in my hand made me feel powerful—he was mine, truly, fully.
His fingers moved with more intensity, teasing and coaxing, and I could feel my orgasm rising, fast and hot. We broke the kiss, both gasping for breath. Our eyes locked, both of us trembling on the edge.
I cried out softly as pleasure overtook me, my thighs pressing around his hand, my hips twitching as a wave of ecstasy rolled through me. And then I heard Huseyn’s groan, his warm release spilling across my stomach.
I touched it with my fingers, smiling at the thought—soon, there would be no more holding back. Soon, he’d be inside me, no secrets, no shame.
We lay there, spent and glowing, exchanging one more slow, passionate kiss.
Later that night, we went to my father to share the news.
The look on his face was unforgettable—utter shock. I held my breath, unsure of what would come next. But then... he smiled through tears, pulled both of us into a hug, and said how happy he was that I’d found the right man.
I laughed, remembering all the insults he used to throw Huseyn’s way.
I looked at the man who would soon be my husband, heart full. The rivalry was over. Our families would heal. And our love?
It was just beginning.