Behind the wheel of "nine" was a young black-haired girl. She drove the car quickly and confidently, cornering dashing turns. While she was driving empty in search of a client, her five-year-old daughter was silently sitting in the backseat. When people were getting into the car, often drunk and funny, as the young Georgian worked at night, the girl squeezed into the space between the driver’s seat and the door and stood there all the time, clutching her mother’s hand.

Tamara moved to Moscow with her two-year-old daughter in 1995. Her husband disappeared somewhere immediately after the child was born, and Tamara interrupted all those long, cold and hungry two years as she could with odd jobs, trying not to get into her mother's pension very much. Then she received a letter from her aunt, in which she wrote that she could shelter her for some time in her new apartment in Moscow. The letter said that the countrymen will help her find a job, she will be able to rent a separate room and get on her feet. Realizing that life in Moscow was full and rich, Tamara immediately gathered on the road and left, taking with her a small suitcase and a wrapped up daughter.

In Moscow, she lived for some time with her aunt and went to work at the vegetable market nearby, pulling out half an hour to come running home and feed her daughter. Her beauty immediately attracted the attention of many men who traded on the market. Even the Slavs who sold potatoes from the truck flirted with her. It is not known how long all this would have lasted had she not accidentally met Otari. It was a very rich Georgian, probably a thief in law, judging by the respect with which the local bandits spoke to him. Otari rented a two-room apartment for her in the Strogino area, and having arranged a small farewell party for her aunt and several salesmen-traders from the market, Tamara moved with her daughter to a separate apartment.

She was well aware of who she was becoming. Being the mistress and concubine of a rich and powerful man is about halfway to ordinary prostitution. Both that and another is reduced to sale of the body. I must say that her body could be very expensive to sell, if you evaluate it at auction for the rich and high-placed gentlemen, like Otari. If in an honest contest tight wallets seek possession of it. Being of medium height, Tamara had a very slim figure and long legs. Her straight back and majestic gait suggested a professional ballet class. But she never did ballet. Even at a young age, when she was only fourteen or fifteen years old, she had grown big breasts. This has become a constant source of her embarrassment, as well as a perpetual irritant for the whole male, from teenagers of her age to gray-haired, sedate old men, walking along Tbilisi boulevards. Breastfeeding of the daughter did not in the least spoil the magnificent shape of two full, pear-shaped breasts filled to tightness with large, flat brown nipples. Actually, her straight walk with a hard, like a board, back and was caused by a significant weight of her gently fluttering toes. Otari, despite his age under fifty, was dominated by a complex similar to an unconscious desire for a mother, with only significant sexual connotations. That is why he was immediately conquered by Tamara’s full breast and even went so far as to make her his constant lover.

He came to her no more than twice a week. His weaknesses and attachments soon became known to Tamara, and she satisfied him like no other lover, despite the fact that their meetings were fleeting in nature.Although they used to strip naked while having sex - for which he, in fact, came - Otari never turned off his cell phone and could answer a call at the height of love passion. Tamara, on account of his sex preferences, was never particularly excited, let alone orgasm.

Otari came to her around seven in the evening. At first, as always, both bodyguards, former boxing champions, inspected both rooms. Tamara wrinkled her nose a little, watching them peer behind the curtains and look under the bed. The bed was American - waterbad - and it didn’t make sense to look under it, so it was tightly placed on the floor with the whole brick of its massive construction. She did not like to sleep in her because of unpleasant associations and went into her daughter's room, where they slept embracing on the couch. Peering into the fridge, (Idiots! Tamara thought), the guards went outside, and three minutes later, the gloomy Otari entered.

- Ra Mohda? - Tamara asked him in Georgian. But Otari always came to her grim, and the questions about what happened, did not answer.

He immediately went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. Tamara was waiting for him, so she was wearing only light silk kimono, barely reaching her round and soft knees.

After a while, Otari came out of the bath, wringing a wide terry robe on the move. To begin with, he sat down in a velor chair and dialed someone's phone number. The conversation took place in Russian. "Well, good, daragoi, I will wait for you!" Said Otari and turned off the mobile phone. He raised his slightly weary eyes on his mistress and their glances crossed. From the huge black eyes of Tamara came a cold flame. She lowered her gaze and pulled on her kimono. Light silk fabric slid to the floor. The woman remained in some narrow black panties, favorably emphasizing her figure, resembling its steep bends on an hourglass flask.

A few steps to the chair, heavy swaying of uncovered heavy breasts, and she is already on her knees in front of an elderly and tired businessman, who would be more sleepy than active lovemaking. Sometimes she thought that he came to her only for the image - such a rich man should have a very beautiful lover. However, in the six months of their “joint” life, they developed a certain routine, and Tamara knew very well where to begin.

Under a terry robe surrounded by gray and dark hair, his penis lay a soft ball on a shaggy thigh. Tamara licked several times on the dark skin of the trunk, then carefully pulled the foreskin with two fingers and took the head in her mouth. When his penis became hard enough, she began to deeply swallow him, so that the head went straight into her throat, and her curled lips almost reached the wrinkled purse of the scrotum. Otari made a guttural sound, something like approval. Then she brought together her full and soft breasts and put his shiny from the saliva member in a narrow gap between them. Otari threw his head back and completely surrendered to the breathtaking feeling. For a while she slowly massaged with her large white breasts his stiffened member. The breath of the Georgian began to gradually increase. He raised his head and with visible difficulty opened his tired eyes filled with blood. Tamara stared at his face, her straight, unblinking gaze was almost impertinent. Otari fidgeted slightly in the chair, he shouldn't have finished yet, she was clearly in a hurry for events. Finally, she stopped the measured movements and released his penis from a soft, warm captivity. Tamara got up and went to the table near the huge bed, which occupies almost a third of the room. From the top drawer, she took out a small flat jar of Vaseline, opened it and put the lid next to the jar. With both hands, she quickly pulled off her black panties and squatted sideways to her lover.Holding her index finger along the yellowish mass, she gently put her hand with lubricant on her back and began to slowly rub the ointment between the buttocks. Otari sat all crimson from the tension, his body slightly shuddered from the tension. Usually he asked her to turn her back so as not to miss the exciting sight, but now he just sat in a bag in a chair and sniffed quite loudly. Tamara scooped up some more Vaseline on the middle finger and slowly introduced it into the warm gut through the softened ring of the anus, trying to bring all the grease on the fingertip inside. She had already got used to doing it, so after some time it even began to give her pleasure. Atari began stroking his penis, completely covering the inflated chestnut with the skin of his head, and then slowly pulling the foreskin to the root.

Tamara lay down on the floor and threw her slender legs to the head, easily taking something like a stand on her shoulders. A lush mop of black hair spread over the light pile of the carpet. Her soft breasts almost covered her throat, and her legs, slightly bent at the knees, diverged like scissors in different directions. Now Otari had a beautiful view of her crotch covered with sparse curly hair and - like a diamond in a frame - the shining fossa of a slightly open sphincter. Otari slowly approached the girl who was standing on her shoulders in an unnatural pose and with both thumbs spread her white buttocks apart. The anus gave him a slight wink, curled up, and then slowly, like a flower, opened his bud. Without any extra preparations, Otari guided the crimson head to the ajar hole and made a slight movement, as if buttoning a wide button. His head was easily inside. “Nela!”, Warned Tamara so that he would not be in too much of a hurry. “Well, the decision is Nurapris,” Otari replied. He slightly pressed his penis and, looking, as he gradually disappears behind the stretched shiny muscular ring, asked: "Rogor Bavshvi?". Tamara did not feel pain - only a dull sensation from a hot and fat object penetrating into her insides. “What do you care about my child?” She thought, but she answered him: “Bavshvi tamashobs. Magobar tan ". Otari fell silent, concentrating on his smooth movements with his pelvis back and forth. His cock slid easily in a greased sleeve. When he went inside, a small pink stripe bordering his trunk disappeared when the movement went back, the pink ring protruded slightly outward with the movement of the penis. Otari watched fascinated by all this complicated mechanics. His breathing increased, but he still did not want to stop. Too early. “I’m crying enough for her to silently tolerate me for half an hour,” he thought, rushing and pulling out his member with rhythmic movements. Pretty soon he was noticeably tired and his movements became slow. Sharply pulling the penis out of the slippery gut and not without pleasure, hearing the smacking sound of the cork, Otari lightly tapped Tamara on the buttock so that it turned over. He did not like her to see his face when he finished. Tamara knelt on the bed and put a pillow under her head. Then she lay her face on the pillow and arched her back, exposing her wide round buttocks. Otari again entered her and began to work seriously in her rectum. A sticky sweat ran down his bare hairy chest. He was almost out of breath, feeling like an abundant charge of sperm rises to his root. At last the fountains of white, viscous fluid began to pour out into the insides of Tamara. Otari growled like a beast, plunging his nails into the soft thighs of his mistress. Then he froze, his head hanging down and breathing hard. Pretty quickly, his penis fell off and slipped out of the unnatural case.

Tamara pressed a paper napkin to the opening of the anus and went to the toilet. Behind her was her lover.

Then, when he was already dressed and, as usual, he put five hundred dollars in the nightstand, Tamara asked: "Rodex mohwal?". Otari paused for a moment, looked at her intently, then reluctantly said:

"Mowal, rotsa mzadviknebi."

He left, and Tamara again closed on both locks.

A day later, she collected all her belongings and secretly ran with the child. Her savings allowed her to rent a one-room apartment on the outskirts of the city and buy a relatively new “nine”. She was not afraid of a chance meeting with Otari or one of her acquaintances - Moscow is a big city ...