Old cans were scattered underfoot, every now and then we had to step over the remains of fires, abandoned bags of garbage, fallen trees, and bypass the remains of rusty cars. In fact, there was no forest left. Why did I go there that day now I vaguely remember. Probably, I was called there by the developed city need to “walk”.

By this time, "walk", in the sense - to breathe fresh air, wherever it was, it was already impossible. But my legs still led me to the remnants of this forest, once proudly bearing the name of the Bitsevsky Forest Park. It smelled like burnt rubber and for some reason green tea. How could this delicate smell, which only a finished gourmet could recognize, coexist and even interrupt the smell of rubber, didn’t fit in my head ...

- Who are you? - a rude female voice tore me from the tea-Chinese memories. I have not yet seen its owner, but by some sort of sixth sense I realized that I had come here today in vain. In addition to my suspicions, a trunk rested in my back.

- I am from the sixth battalion, the supplier.

- What are you doing here?

- Walking.

- Are you walking ?! - she laughed, - But what about the war?

- Today, no one comes anywhere.

- How do you know?

- Providers always know everything.

Apparently, my camouflage and confident answers for some time dispelled her suspicions. At least, the trunk no longer crushed me in the back.

- You can turn?

- Go ahead.

- Well, hello ... - I have long understood that in war, old-regime propriety and elementary politeness sometimes save lives.

In front of me stood a woman of about thirty in appearance, with a clearly weary face and a disproportionately large breast. The chest was clearly not intended by nature for conducting combat operations in the conditions of a collapsed metropolis and looked ridiculous under military uniform. She caught my eye.

- Like?

A direct question required a direct answer, and I answered ...

- Yes.

- Want to touch?

Even I did not expect such a turn of events. To run into the warring nympho in the forest ... But she clearly did not want to give time for reflection. The automatic again looked menacingly at me.

- Undress!

This time I was not long in coming. She looked at me appreciatively, did not say a word, undid the top button of her shirt and gently put the machine on the brown grass.

- Was you bathing for a long time? - I every time startled from her voice, I could not get used. She threw phrases too harshly for a woman with such, in general, pretty features.

- Yesterday.

- Then come closer.

I dutifully took a step and was within a few inches of her bust. Now we looked each other in the eye. In her green, with sparkles pupils rushed madness. What can she do with a naked man? If you just fuck - it's a song! In response, she put one hand on my ass, and the second - held on my hairy chest. Pretty gentle, damn it! But what should I do? It is foolish to stand with an idol when you are stroked, but on the other hand, what is on her mind, how will she react to reciprocity? Maybe hit her, knock down, until she has no weapons in her hands? But now, damn, the intellectual essence - the very thought of hitting a woman is not accepted by the brain as a signal to action! But maybe, after all, surrender to her for use, was - or was? When one can have fun with a woman, some homosexuals are all around ...

My last thought was accepted by her "with a bang." At least, when I reached out with her second button, she not only didn’t grab the weapon, but she leaned towards me, and her tongue began to lick the skin around my nipples. Yy, how can we! Well, well, the path is open, you can act bolder!

With both hands, I began to tear off her shabby shirt, and very soon her battered breasts were swaying in front of me.Pointed nipples mischievously stuck out in different directions. Damn, did she really have all this wealth by nature, and they don’t have a single gram of silicone? Most likely, it is. Imagine that this girl in search of a doctor and anyone unnecessary in the face of the general ruin of pumping boobs ran through the ruins of the city - it is simply impossible.

Yes ... She probably just lacked a man. I wonder how much she tolerated, poor? And even more interesting to know - and on whose side, in fact, is she fighting. Maybe I have to make love with the enemy?

During my reflections, she managed to pull off the tarpaulin boots, the spotted trousers, muddied with mud, and now it was a rather innocuous sight. “It’s good that she undresses herself,” was thought for some reason. In general, I didn’t like this process - all these hooks, bones, and rivets usually didn’t give in the first time, and they greatly stretched the general procedure. Make love for love (pun intended!) Never had to. I wanted to quickly lower, dry off or wash myself (with water, of course, more pleasant, but where will you find this water now ...), and run away to the devil's mother away from the subject of sudden passion.

She already blew me all over and now started the game with my lower friend. During the entire process of undressing, kissing, he has never shown signs of life. I was frightened, probably, when an automatic machine was instructed to the owner. Despite the fact that fear has long passed, and I myself took an active part in the smoothing of a pretty body, he was treacherously dangling between his legs. But in vain I began to worry about the sudden onset of impotence - as soon as she took my end into my mouth, he immediately began to swell with a surging blood. Very soon, I proved to her with my ending, that it was not for nothing that they called me in the battalion the Stallion.

The sight of my friend who was full of my friends finally drove this “partisan” crazy (as I began to call it myself). She began to perform various manipulations with him with both hands. Then she opened the head, painfully tightening the skin of the upper flesh to the base, then she abruptly closed it, then simply jerked up and down ... I don't know, maybe it seemed to her that from this he should grow another several tens of centimeters. But where is more? And so not every woman without pain enters to the end.

And in the end - we will continue to masturbate, until I finish, or will we still fuck? Somewhere in my heart a suspicion crept in that my thoughts were reaching her in some unknown way. At least, she left my dick alone and tried more comfortably to sit on the tarpaulin lying behind her. For some reason, I immediately remembered my first woman and having sex with her in her small bathroom, after which my knees hurt for a long time.

“Come to me,” she whispered. Here I am writing now - “whispered”, but I myself think - probably, “growled” after all, her low, rough voice, even if quiet, didn’t suit for tender pleasures.

Gone, of course. What I still had to do was still no choice. Rather, it was, but the thing is not the most unpleasant, and you can bring to the end. I knelt down in front of her, felt the unpleasant coolness of the earth from under the tarpaulin. And she pulled my head to her lips - kissing. And why did I lie that I washed yesterday? Now I actually had to lick off the bacteria and the smell from my genitalia that fell on her lips during a recent contact.

Damn ... And she knew how to kiss. At times it even began to seem to me that she had a ring on her tongue to create more thrill. But this, of course, could only seem from an oversupply of pleasant sensations surging from somewhere in the depths. Where, I wonder, did she manage to master it so well? People lately have no time for tenderness, not for sentiment. I wanted to ...