| Fuck<br>At the meeting, the management put the whole of our advertising department on the backfoot and, with a small run, soundly kicked everyone on a two-week holiday - summer, hot, ventilation can't cope.... They didn't give me holidays, so I couldn't get anything five-star, my only hope was Crimea, and [https://www.chesno.org/politician/49059/ Groß] that was if Timur was ready to invest in me. When I asked him if he was ready, he smiled unkindly and said that he was already investing himself between my bunions every night, and the wet sheet under me was evidence of the effectiveness of the investment. - Aha, I have to sponsor you to spin your whore's arse in Simeiz in front of men on the beach; you should go to the bathhouse, my friend. Fucking jealous! And I almost never gave him a reason, except with Pashka, but Pashka had such a machine that it would be unforgivable not to seduce him - oh, my arse was still whimpering sweetly for a few days, even at work a couple of times, giving in to the memories, I ran away to jerk off in the toilet, including on my mobile phone secretly filmed video - my perfect arse accepting his perfect dick.... When he was about to cum, I thought he would blow me up from inside with his white fountain - inflate me with his cum like a frog is inflated through a straw.... So, the bathhouse. well, why not? My grandmother hasn't seen me for six years - Moscow knows how to twist things in such a way that I don't need to see my parents.... And in the village - this very bathhouse, steamy milk, testicles, hoo... but that's not what I'm talking about. - I'll go to Big Kukushki, then. My grandmother will be happy. - Then go. You won't be able to twist your arse there, except in front of the local drunkards or when a bear breaks you in the woods. Timur is actually cool, but like all swarthy men, jealous as a baboon. However, when every night you have a guaranteed anal orgasm, you can be patient, right? Let the countryside and backwoods - and I did a fashionable hairdo with shaved zigzags on my temples anyway - it is necessary to keep the brand of a stylish metropolitan doltus, and let everyone jerk off while I will be in tight jeans, slightly (not provocatively, but who can appreciate - will understand) wiggling my smooth arse to march from the railway station to my grandmother's house, past the club, past the village shop, past the boys in Chinese sports trousers.... Not much has changed, has it? Except that foreign cars have appeared somewhere (how do they drive on these bumps, pontsutniks?), and the grandmother has quite a bit more grey hair. "Andryusha, you've grown up, you should look for a good bride!" Eh, if she knew that in my back under my jeans - a bride-to-be, and how many wedding photos she has in a special album "Only for the chosen ones...". - You can't even find a good bathhouse in Moscow! And under the shower - what is washing, Andrew? Just to wash off the dirt, neither health nor joy! I asked Sashka to make the fire hotter for you on purpose; so what if it's Monday, my grandson is coming, you'll heat it up like a sweetheart, and broom him, broom him, broom him, to knock out all the city's rubbish, because he's forgotten his dear grandmother! Do you remember Sashka? Sashka was my third cousin, a white-haired, wiry son of the local tractor driver, Uncle Lyova. I remember, at the age of fourteen, he got me so drunk on liquor stolen from my father that the whole next day I couldn't vomit.... I wish I recognised him now, the bastard! I do. Though if I'd met him in town, in a different environment, I wouldn't have recognised him; maybe I'd have held his gaze for a few seconds: he was a handsome man, with a face as unscrupulous as I liked; not so handsome, but "something" - lips in a perpetual grin, sunburnt curls on his tanned forehead, not a jock, but so.... "of the hound breed," as one of my ex-fuckers used to say. - Well, hello, Dronchik! - Sanya put his arm around me, patting me on the back so that I could feel what a man he was, - It's been a long time, bro, you've become a city man, how do you say it, a hipstar? - Sanya laughed, his teeth were white, his fangs were crooked, one of them was a third broken off - a collective farm bull had hit him with a horn, - wow, what details suddenly came to mind, I never would have thought.... Smells of smoke, booze and surprisingly decent perfume. - Hi, Sanek. Are you the first guy in Kokushki now? Perfumed like a gentleman! - I say in his tone, feeling that instead of a childhood friend I begin to perceive him as an interesting, albeit simple man. - Well, the first is not the first, but girls sometimes invite me to visit, - Sanja chuckled, slapping my lower back for some reason, - but in our country, Dronchik, it's not hard to be a beau, if you don't drink too much and your hands don't grow out of your arse.<br>Kostet got poisoned by bad booze, Grey got two years in jail for fighting, so all the women are mine anyway, even if I had a dick as big as an acorn.... What about you? You're not thinking of getting married? Because Sergeevna has found you a bride, she's a nice girl, she's got great [https://www.chesno.org/politician/49059/ tits], I gave her a squeeze once after a club... - Sanya was dreaming, - Anyway, if you think about it, I'll help you get to her. There in Moscow all the whores probably don't know what they want, and Lerka won't go out, except that I'll come in as a brother sometimes..." winked Sanya. - Sanya winked, clearly in a good mood. - You like to talk about women, - I looked into his shameless eyes, patting and groping in return. - And what to do here in the evenings, we don't have a lunapark, Dronchik! Let's go to the bathhouse, I've got everything in order there, and you can check out my creativity! The bathhouse stood a little apart, behind my grandmother's house, behind San's family's house; all of them had built it together once, so that on Saturdays the whole family could steam there. And I had a third of the village in Kokushki; I thought with a slight horror that I would have to go round everyone, and everywhere they would pour their unique (potato, beetroot, apple) moonshine into me and ask me what was going on with Putin and Kabaeva. Sanya was pacing, looking at me contentedly, and seemingly anticipating something. When I came closer to the bathhouse, I understood the reason for his smug mystery. The bathhouse had a porch, dahlias were planted in front of the porch, five metres of the path in front of the entrance were paved with smooth white stones, and - the most shocking thing - a board with crooked, unsuccessfully pretending to be beautiful letters was pinned above the door. "E-Banya." I fucked up a little. Sanya glowered, apparently mistaking my surprise for mute delight. - Come on, sneak in, it's the coolest thing inside," my brother pushed me under my arse. In the enlarged anteroom, apart from two neatly cleaned bunks, there was a table, on which - fuck Madrid! - two shabby laptops. Between them stood a cut glass with plastic daisies. Did he cut the flowers from the cemetery? - I thought. - I thought long and hard about what to call it, Dronchik. "Virtual Bath" - it turns out that it's not real, right? And what is it not real, if I'm so stoked that the girls will not sit for [https://www.chesno.org/politician/49059/ Stor] more than three minutes without a break? "Internet lounge with a steam room" is long. "E-bath" is short and to the point, like an e-mail. Sanya nodded at the corner under the ceiling, where a red light was blinking between bouquets of St John's wort and brooms, "And you probably thought that we were suckers here? No, brother, progress - you can't stop it! - Sanek," I asked, feeling my eyebrows rise to the top of my forehead and stick there, "who's coming here to chat? Matveyitch or Aunt Zina? - You think they're suckers! - Sanka sat down on the bench, pulling on his worn sneakers. - We have hunting here, don't you know? Every week hunters come here... They shoot so much that the boars only increase, but they like to have a good rest, with vodka. And in general, we need movement, otherwise you'll get mossy here... Let's drink to the meeting! The vodka was, of course, not just vodka, but infused vodka - rowanberries, sea buckthorn and some herbs I hadn't recognised. ....
| | "他妈的阿姨2<br>-你别想什么迪马,我只是很久没有对象了,我想要,有时非常想要。你来了.... 瓦莉娅姨妈好像在我面前为自己辩解,尽管是我必须向她道歉。我下了床,穿上裤子--我要去抽烟--在这儿抽吧,她说。我点燃一支烟,想了想。我刚上了自己的姨妈,我喜欢,她也喜欢...... -瓦尔姨妈,我们还有什么喝的吗?-当然,我还藏了些白兰地,虽然不是一整瓶,但还是有的。我去拿。姑妈踮起脚尖去夹层拿酒瓶。她就在我旁边--亲爱的,在这儿呢。阿姨把瓶子给我看。我抱着她的屁股,贴着她的肚子。-你是我的宝贝,我爱你!!!!!她把瓶子递给我,倒酒。我没等多久,就把酒倒进了酒杯,然后说:"这杯敬你,瓦莉亚姨妈!" 我们喝着酒,我抽着烟,阿姨喝着白兰地,坐在我对面。我掐灭了香烟 -我又倒了一杯 -来吧,来吧,她说,我提议来一次 "友谊之旅"!如果一个女人提出要求,她是无法拒绝的。我们紧挨着站在一起,双手合十,一饮而尽。我们放下酒杯,嘴唇相吻。我的手同时拉起了她的睡衣,姨妈意识到了一切,举起了双手,我把睡衣脱到了她的头上。她整个身体都依偎在我身上,我一只手揉捏着她的屁股,另一只手抚摸着她的后背。同时,她的手伸进我的内裤,揉捏我的阴茎。他迅速起身,我把她放在床上,脱下我的内裤,开始亲吻她的乳房。她的乳头开始变硬,乳晕呈深褐色。阿姨把头靠在枕头上,闭上眼睛抚摸着我的头。 她说,"你的这个真不错",她用手握住它,轻轻地揉了揉,然后俯身吻了吻它的头--嗯嗯嗯,我想要它。她跪在地上,把它引向自己,然后整个人坐在上面--嗯嗯嗯--她又低声说了一遍。瓦莉娅阿姨把手放在我的腿上,开始在我的阴茎上摆弄。我用手抚摸着她光滑雪白的大腿。她开始轻轻地骑在我的鸡巴上,逐渐向我靠得越来越低。最后,她的乳头碰到了我的嘴唇,我抓住一个开始吸吮。我用手搂住阿姨的后背,把她拉到我身边。她再次靠向我,我开始亲吻她的脸颊、眼睛和额头,她开始频繁地呼吸,并在我身上移动她的骨盆。我意识到她快要射精了,于是我也开始用我的阴茎猛烈地撞击她。-她开始呻吟,紧紧抓住枕头,亲吻我的胸膛。然后,她开始快速地在我身上移动,而且不是呻吟,而是尖叫--呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜呜 好在阿姨已经射了,但我还没有。我和她在同一个地方翻了个身。我的阴茎还在她体内,我跪了下来,她把双腿搭在我的肩膀上,我的双手抚摸着她的乳房和腹部。我抱住她的大腿,几乎把阴茎全部抽出来,然后猛地进入。那里又湿又滑。我开始一次比一次用力地抽插。瓦莉娅姨妈仰躺在床上,双手抱着头,闭着眼睛,灰色的长发披散在枕头上,她的嘴张开着,我能听到她通过阴户的挤压发出的呻吟声。她的脸肯定不年轻了,但在夜光下看起来真他妈太美了,以至于我决定要肏阿姨的嘴和屁股。这些想法让我兴奋不已,又插了几下,我就射了,我...." [https://www.chesno.org/politician/49059/ Mutter] [https://www.chesno.org/politician/49059/ Missbrauch] [https://www.mantrakshar.co.in/doku.php/en/conjunction Modelka] 。<br><br>[https://www.chesno.org/politician/49059/ Modelka] |