How I hate to get up early in the morning. Damn that study. What is the point of going to study so early if the brain continues to sleep?

And today, in addition to everything, you have to go even earlier than usual - a pre-diploma consultation. You can't be late, but yesterday you lay so late.

The sound of the alarm clock snatches from sleep. Two weeks of abstinence made adjustments to my dreams. Their subjects were fixated on meeting the need for reproduction, therefore the morning stanch entered into the usual way of life.

I do not have time to have breakfast, for I decided to spend my ten minutes of stock on the compilation of a dream plot. It’s good that I live alone, otherwise it would not be very aesthetic to go to the side of the bathroom with wide-panted shorts.

He quickly shaved, brushed his teeth, went to the toilet, put on new underwear. He went to the window, looked. It was raining at night. Apparently the street is very cool. Time is running out, turn on the TV or computer, for the sake of weather forecasting was not advisable, so I decided to dress warmly: thick gray jeans and a warm jacket jacket should compensate for my little fat layer and save from frostbite.

On the way to the subway, I managed to overestimate the values, it turned out that not only the umbrella and the jacket were superfluous, it was clearly worth putting pants on easier, lighter. But there was no time to return, and so it was necessary to go a quick step. Hanging an umbrella on my wrist, taking a jacket in my other hand, I hurried to the subway. When I arrived at the station, I was horrified: even at the usual 8.30 am, so many people are not going on the platform. For good, you should miss a couple of trains and get the opportunity to climb into the car without a fight, but there was no time left for that.

The successful choice of position allowed one of the first to enter the car, however, the former ones did not allow to maneuver in the car itself. I was pressed to the far door. The space was a bit small, but ideally I could even try to get a book from my shoulder bag and read it during the trip. That's what I tried to do.

The right hand, with an umbrella dangling on it, was lowered along the body, the left one held an open book at head level. On the bend of his left hand hung a jacket. I did not have time to read the 2 pages, as we drove to the next stop. A new wave of passengers rushed into the car. I was immobilized. The back rested tightly against the door, which on my branch was not destined to open along the line, the left hand hung at the level of the head, and the right hand was squeezed by people.

The train went on. I read to the end of the turn, but I could not turn the page. The second hand could not move. Moreover, the umbrella began to crawl from the wrist. Ignoring the bodies I rested against, I tried to stop the sliding of the umbrella with the movement of my fingers. I was so fascinated by the fixing of the umbrella that I didn’t pay attention to the next stop, the new flow pressed me even more into the wall, and put someone's ass in my right hand. It almost happened that I was holding someone, sincerely hoping that I was not the guy, by the buttock.

A jerk, the passengers with the car bend to the side, and the umbrella makes a giant race on the brush. In fact, he is already hanging on the protruding thumb of the hand, which is pressed into the left buttock. There is nothing to do, it is necessary to bail out an umbrella, so expensive, both in price and according to the memories associated with it. I try to raise the loop with the cuts of the hand, holding an umbrella on my hand closer to my wrist, but in reality it turns out that I am stroking my ass. And what is most surprising, the priest begins to move in so, allowing you to get from the buttocks to the center of the priests.

Until now, I did not pay attention to what my hand rested on. Now all 6 senses of the body passed into the hand and began to scan the surface. Elastic ass wrapped in a delicate, tight-fitting fabric. I consciously begin to stroke the ass. On an instinctive level, I already understand that only a girl can have such a priest.I'm starting to look for the head of this priests. A short middle-aged woman, a man in a cap, looking to the right ... Bingo! Here she is. The blonde is standing with her back to me. The face is not visible, but the smell comes from it. How could I miss him before? Not a strict channel, but a bold, sharp and at the same time very delicate aroma.

The contents of my jeans were swollen, my hand was emboldened. During the study, stroking it turned out that she was wearing panties. Damn it. My dick finally got up. There was no strength, and I rushed my index finger to the center of her priests. Even through the matter, I felt a touch on something warm and soft. I pressed, my finger willingly drove part of the pants, along with my finger blonde in the hole. For a moment she froze, and then jerked sharply. I realized that the girl does not want me to penetrate her in this way. I returned the index finger to the stroking mode, and then the hand itself crawled below. That she stood on the fingers. The hand slid along her crotch. What a warm and wet. Her pants could not hold back the vagina. I ran two fingers over the vagina. It breathed, burned, craved penetration.

To facilitate the penetration process I bent at the knees. In this position, I could even reach the clitoris. He began to move there, when he suddenly felt a woman's hand on his thigh. Girlish ruchenka slowly proceeded to the fly. I felt that such a promotion was difficult. There was not enough space even for maneuvering hands. And she reached the epicenter. I do not know how I did not finish right away. A member rushed to her hand. He wanted to jump out of his pants. He wanted to lie on her palm, he wanted her to hug him as tightly as she could, he wanted her to jerk off to him. I wanted so much to get my dick, and don't care what strangers are around. Get out and put her hand on him, put your hand on top and show how to masturbate to give maximum pleasure, that you have to squeeze your penis just below the head, so that during movement the foreskin covers the head time after time.

I could not control myself and launched into her vagina in the phalanx of the index and middle finger. To this she replied even closer embrace of my penis and testicles. How I regretted that I had such rough jeans, and not, say, silk pants. Here then she would be able to appreciate the size of my penis. And this interested her, as she reached for her fly, tried to unzip it, but failed. Another attempt, an elderly middle-aged woman looked at me with displeasure. I looked away, looked again at her. She still had her back to me, and I saw only her hair.

The fly did not give it to her, her hand crawled upwards. To belt pants. I, wanting to simplify the task for her, lowered my knees even lower and penetrated deeper into her with my fingers. The elastic fabric of the pants stretched, and did not intend to let me go further. Blonde pants and so decently were tucked into her vagina. My dick stood as if for the first time had fallen into the hands of a virgin, which you wanted to fuck for several years, and which in the near future will surely send him to his mouth.

Fingers slipped out of her hole. Wet. Smelling her. She shamelessly pissed the entire perineum with vaginal discharge. I ran my hand even further, in the direction of the pubis, bent in the heat of it allowed. In the meantime, her hand tried to get into my pants through the top, but the belt was too tight. Crawled only fingertips. Rummaged my summer trimmed pubic hair. I touched her clit. I apparently broke the bank. Her body trembled, an umbrella slipped from my hand. But it did not matter.

The car became freer, her hand quickly proceeded back onto my penis, grabbed him and began to drive up and down. For a second I returned to reality, and saw that the train was at the station I needed. Yes scram it all damned if I leave this girl. I do not care at all, I'm going with her to the end of the world. The doors closed, the train drove on.Our masturbation marathon continued. She nadrachivala my dick, which is because of the pants and pants in the pose of the embryo, and I stroked her crotch and pushed more and more matter into her vagina.

The seconds separated me from coming. I rolled, and then completely closed my eyes. Exactly. Another second. Then I feel that her hand was gone from my dick. I open my eyes, I see that the blonde is heading for the exit. We stand on the platform. My hand holds her ass for a few seconds, and then the butt is removed for an inaccessible distance. I notice that the umbrella has fallen. Looking for it with my eyes, here it is, at the feet of the passengers, I bend down, pick it up. I make my way to the exit, through the stream of flaying.

Here I am at liberty. Around the crowd of people scurrying back and forth. But where is my queen? At this station, 2 transitions and 2 exits to the city, she can go anywhere. I rush from one part of the station to another. She is nowhere to be found. Frustrated, I look at my watch, I'm late for more than 10 minutes. Glance from the dial to the fingers. I hold the fingers of my right hand to my nose. They still smell to her. In my shorts a member swells again, this time he doesn’t need stroking, as soon as he gets up completely, the cuts immediately begin, and I end up in my pants.

This second is a real ecstasy, and it doesn’t matter that even through thick gray pants I have a small speck of sperm.

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