a large library "bump", entering the toilet, of course, became interested in fussing in my booth, and, naturally, began to eavesdrop, and, maybe, pry. In such persons, the passion for espionage over time acquires obvious signs of sexual deviation - the so-called voyeurism.

I threw open the door of the stall and played with cheeks on my cheekbones, I straightened to my full height. She was as I had imagined this “nomenclature”, painted by a blonde of thirty-five, with small and angry eyes on a pale face.

Lyuba covered her face with her palms.

“You don’t hide your face, don’t hide it,” said the aunt, vainly looking to look behind my back. - You know how to sin, know how to repent.

- How, now, - Lyuba answered through tears, - ran away!

- Khamka, oh you! ... - The blonde turned red to the roots of her dyed hair, - Oh, how old you are! You need it for this ...

“Well, let her go,” I said, and took control of my custodial woman.

Lyuba took advantage of her freedom and, jumping out of the booth, disappeared at the speed of sound.

“So,” said the woman menacingly, turning pale with anger, “an attack on a responsible worker in the performance ... in a public place ... Come on, let me go, quickly!”

She rubbed her wrists from my grip, pulled out the lapels of her Poluzhensky-Polumuzhskogo jacket, solidly moved her elbows. “Now he will call the police,” I thought involuntarily, and then a whole company of young “boobies” rushed into the toilet. The “nomenclature” became wary: a subtle administrative sense suggested that such a long stay in a booth with a young lokotryas could be “misinterpreted by the public” - even if it is not very broad. From all of this strongly smacks of "immoral". That kind of joy will be with colleagues. Especially Zalupaev exult. This bastard has long been undermining it.

And it was here that a miracle happened! It worked the most powerful of human instincts - the instinct of self-preservation. Nomenclature blonde in one jump (just like a kangaroo) overcame the distance separating us and broke into my booth. The door slammed shut with a sad, rending soul creak. No, after all, the rights of a national omen are right - a mirror is broken, expect trouble.

Everything further resembled the scene of the mimicry and gesture theater: the lady silently opened and shut her mouth, her eyes puffed insanely, jabbing a finger in the door: what the heck, they say, is not closed! Slowly, I clicked the latch, took out a cigarette. The plump fist immediately loomed near my nose.

“Sit quietly,” I read through the lips of the “nomenclature,” otherwise I would kill.

With a wall of a girl, they swirled peculiarly into the toilet bowls, washed their hands, smoked, laughed, poisoned indecent jokes. Grabbing a crime, the "nomenclature" reflexively stretched into the hunting rack - ears upright, tail with a pistol. In the end, my patience ran out:

- Do not hurt something arise, my dear! The girls relaxed, rest. They themselves locked in the toilet with a young stallion.

- Oh, you! ... With a snot, - only she hissed, starting, apparently, to guess what stupidity blew.

With emphasized insolence in my gaze, I began to look from head to foot at this painted idiot. And here my thoughts unexpectedly took a very, very different direction. Before me stood a very, very savvy babets. Big bust, developed hips, appealingly set aside, bulging ass.

- What are you looking at me like that? - she hoarsely croaked, suddenly switching to "you."

- How come"?

- Well, immodest ... defiant ... You need to remember that you are, in fact, still a boy, and I ... um ... an adult woman. I already ... um ... - She straightened her hair with a flirtatious movement. “Okay, never mind, I’ve got enough years between us ...”

I am drilling the “nomenclature” with the look of the bluish-gray eyes (in my firm conviction, absolutely irresistible), and under their magnetic influence the language of my “vis-à-vis” began to somehow get tangled, confused in words.

All my subsequent actions looked very arrogant. First of all, as he could, he squeezed his immense breasts with his palms. She rushed, but to no avail. I managed to press the “nomenclature” to the wall, and in a minute my hand was already fumbling under her skirt.

- Are you out of your mind ?! - in a low voice she puffed, beating off with her hands and putting forward pretty round mouth-watering knees.

“Not at all,” I groaned into her ear, “and why are you not calling for help?” See, and then fuck right on the toilet.

- Me! Here?! In this dirty toilet! - Her whistling whisper rose to tragic heights. - Yes, you know who I am? I am the deputy director for AHC. Dare only!

- Dare, dare, do not worry.

- I am the mother of the family!

Agree, it was a very weak argument for such a situation, and I pulled off her pants with a jerk.

“You, the youth, are ruthless ...” she sighed, “there’s nothing sacred about you.”

- Let's get up yourself. Otherwise, I will take it by force!

- How to "get up"?

- Known as - cancer!

- Never-yes! - She said in a whisper. - I am a decent woman and ... and to get rid of me after some girl ?! They are there in the dorm, fuck like monkeys. Today with one, tomorrow with another.

“You yourself taught us collectivism,” I remind avengingly.

“But ... not to the same extent!”

“Okay, stop talking.” Stand in a pose.

"Nomenclature" bent, exposing a rather attractive vagina, framed by reddish curls.

“No,” she suddenly resisted, “I won't give you a condom ...”

- I do not have...

- But I have. Let me get it!

She took out a small motley package of imported condoms from her inside pocket, opened one bag and pulled out the product. The condom was a pale pink color, with two small soft rubber spurs at the end.

And at this moment the painted person saw my fire-breathing member. Her mouth immediately opened, her lips, as if on cue, were folded with the letter “o”, and her hands stretched my gum:

- Put it on!

“It’s a woman’s duty,” I grin.

With two fingers holding a condom (the rest were gracefully set aside), the “nomenclature” with a well-executed gesture lifted the condom to my sort-ass madman and covered it with a pink rubber hat, after which it rolled out the gum to the very root.

- Take off your jacket, it will be forgotten.

Oddly enough, but the "deputy director" did not stop them. I don’t even have to remind about the skirt. She just unbuckled her blouse.

- You have all the back in moles. So happy ...

“Why, happiness pours right over the edge,” she replied, deftly undoing the clasp of a black lace bra.

Now she had a black narrow belt with long elastic bands, supporting nylon stockings, and black swimming trunks, translucent and half loose by me in the process of capturing the "forbidden zone". I did not succeed in pulling them down to the end, for this was hampered by the gum of the belt. She pulled the swimming trunks, took the short cords from the sides, pulled them, and the panties opened themselves and removed from the body. Everything is easy and simple, when you know where and for what you need to pull, Yes, this woman has a harness - first class!

From this unhurried and extremely erotic striptease, I broke my testicles. The naked "nomenclature" turned its back on me, pulled back my arms to recharge my energy from my pick hammer. Then she got cancer, grabbed the drain riser ... Read more →