Even before the wedding, my husband and I dreamed of going to the capital to earn money, and only then settle in our village, have children, start a household. Therefore, less than a week after the wedding, as we, having collected our simple belongings and the money that numerous relatives gave us for the wedding, set off.

We lived with distant relatives for three days, then they asked us nicely, offering to rent an apartment away from them. We rented a one-room apartment, only paid for one month, counting on a miracle. My husband found a job in a week, but I rushed in search of a decent and inexpensive room. A separate apartment for us was not affordable, especially since we only needed it in order to spend the night. I reread a bunch of ads, went to all sorts of offices, but it was all very expensive.

And so, stumbled upon one tempting announcement in the subway, I went to the coveted address. Although the apartment was on the outskirts, I was primarily interested in the price. Having called the door several times, I was about to leave, when suddenly the doors still opened and a sleepy, apparently hangover, strong man appeared on the threshold. I introduced myself that I came to the ad, and would like to see the room. The man was a little more animated, which already pleased me a little, and I went into the apartment.

I immediately noticed the uncleanliness of the owner, because the apartment was very dusty, in some places there were cigarette butts, but I still went to the room he showed me, and carefully examined everything. I asked if it was possible to postpone the first installment a little, referring to the difficult financial situation, to which the man looked at me even more interestedly and without any falsity said: “For a girl like you, I can make a discount, you immediately I liked it, you see that you need women's hands here. ”

He looked at the stained floor, then at me, and all the time he wanted to ask about something. I just smiled sweetly and tried my best to instill confidence in him, fearing that he might change his mind.

"What is your name, honey?"

“Lucy” - I answered very modestly.

“What a good name, and my name is Uncle Jora, you can call me Jora. How are you, eighteen short years there? "

"What are you, Uncle Zhora, all twenty, I'm already married, and I have a husband."

“And where is your husband probably sitting?”

"No, it works."

“So, then you are going to live here with your husband?”

"Well, of course".

Uncle Zhora somehow changed a little and directly issued:

“I thought you were all alone, so young that maybe together or two we could drink the night and twist it.”

Pretending to be a fool, I immediately found that I had to answer: “You don’t worry, my husband is quiet, I’m not offended with a fly, but I’m kind, and I will wash in your room, I will clean it up, and I will say if it’s boring”

He again revived so that it became noticeable how the veins in his sinewy hands tightened. “Look, just don’t be fooled, but I’m just not going to feel sorry for you.”

On this and went. I, pleased with the discovery, gladly told this to my husband. The next day we drove to Uncle Zhore. It seemed to me that my husband really liked Uncle Zhore, perhaps because they drank a bottle of vodka for two people late in the evening.

Early in the morning I was leading my husband to work in a businesslike manner, he hadn’t slept yet, but warned me that the owner was drinking like moose and that I was more careful with this bull. I decided to lie down because it was still completely dark outside. I heard that Uncle Zhora had already got up and went somewhere. Checking if I forgot to lock the door, I calmly fell asleep. I slept for another three hours. I was awakened by some noise from my neighbors, I, like a scalded boiling water, jumped up and immediately began to look for a useful occupation for myself.

I remembered too well that I promised Uncle Zhore to do the cleaning, because last night it was not up to her.I realized that he had not yet had breakfast, as if he was waiting for me, he was sitting in the kitchen in the same T-shirt with a cigarette. I found the strength to greet my host, after waiting for the same from him, and in order to support the conversation, I offered him what was left of my husband for breakfast. He seemed to agree, and I laid the table and immediately sat opposite. Spreading out in his mouth, Uncle Jora began to eat with pleasure, glancing at me frowningly. I felt that he would soon speak, and was a little afraid of that.

“Well, how did you sleep - spend the night in a new place? Good? Cozy? "

"Well, Uncle Zhora, only in the apartment a little, it seems to me cool."

"No, the temperature in the apartment is just right, it was not why you were cold, because my room is right next to your bed."

I looked at him in surprise.

“Why are you looking at me like that, the bed beneath you just creaked something when you went to bed ... How are you? In different beds lived? "

I looked at him again, but not so severely so as not to offend.

"I had tenants, they used to practice all night, there was not only a bed, a wall went on a walk."

My mood was completely spoiled, but it was impossible to stop it.

"You give him a hint if he does not want to cope with his duty, then, they say, Uncle Zhora is always ready, just to beckon." He portrayed his last words so that I would not have any doubts on this point.

I spent all that day looking for work, I just managed to cook something in a hurry in the evening, when my husband came, completely out of mood, something didn’t work at his place, we didn’t even have time to talk about anything.

The next morning, my husband, perhaps out of pity, or maybe just did not want to wake me up, went to work without breakfast so that I did not even notice how he was going. He even turned off the alarm for me to sleep a little longer.

I woke up from the fact that someone gently stroked me. I did not immediately realize in the dark who it was lying next to me. Instinctively with my hands, I tried to pull down a battered shirt, but strong hairy men's hands did not even allow it to reach. I caught my breath when I realized that it was Uncle Zhora, what mother gave birth to. He had already nailed my legs to the bed with his own and kept repeating: “You will like it, just give me a little soak, and then everything will go well, you'll be glad.”

I fought as best I could, he did not hurt me, squeezed my breasts and strove to lower me lower. It seemed to me that he was even amused by such a situation when I so actively resisted his pressure.

“Break down a little, break down, goat, shut it in anyway, only then I will not regret it, you yourself will be guilty.”

For a moment, freeing my hands, I stumbled upon his hefty little one.

“What, scared? By agreement, I would have quietly pushed you, and I will torment you until you realize that Uncle Zhora must be respected. ”

Having imagined that there was no one in this apartment except us, and the doors on the safe lock, hoping for some kind of cunning, I no longer actively pulled out of his hands, he understood it and, fondly thrashing me with one hand, began to insert with the other my cock between my legs.

“I told you that by agreement it’s better, it won't be so painful” - and he spent the whole of his shovel in my most intimate place.

"Maybe you're still virgin, although married, this also happens?"

I shook my head in dismay, only to stop his insidious inquiries. He completely inaccurately grabbed something from the side table next to it and, straightening over me, squeezed himself into a palm-spade. I saw how he clasped his good with his hand and began to smear it with some kind of cream. I, weakened by such thorough preparation, turned away not to see it, and I immediately heard:

"Fearfully? Do not worry, we will do everything like clockwork ”- and his palm was already tightly walked again between my legs.

"You are no longer a virgin, now we will check your baby with whom she slept with."

He again put his Alda to the very pubis and, lifting ...