packs on a glass table.

- Do you smoke here?

- And you forbid?

- No, on health, - hell, again it is on health.

- Then join us.

The lighters clicked and the very silence, hated by Artem, hung. The bluish smoke flowed in two streams to the white ceiling with lamps placed in a staggered manner and never turned on by Olga, she had enough light and tabletop light. The city outside the window somewhere below lit their lights, white and red streams crawling in traffic jams.

- Come on here, did you notice how cool the view is? - she ridiculously fingering rolled on the chair closer to the window.

Artyom grabbed a chair for visitors and an ashtray from the table, sat down next to her.

- Yes, I constantly say this to Cyril, but he would quickly slip away from here.

- Loses a lot. Although he seems to have a girlfriend hysterics rolls, he lingers a little, no?

- Well, maybe so. But still he misses a lot, few people in the city see this. Although where should I hurry, I ask? So I’m hanging out here, even though I’m working with documents at home.

- Exactly. And no one is waiting for me, let's drink it? - Suddenly she suggested, she jumped up, rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small metal flask covered with a frayed chamois.

- Wow! It's even funny to see, by golly, why do you need it with you at work? Are you a cowboy from the Wild West, and, Ol?

- Here I like to drink rarely, but accurately. And do not worry, at work, no, no.

- It's still funny, like a movie of some kind.

- I do not see anything wrong. This is Calvados.

- Do not believe me, I know him only from books, what kind of thing is that?

- Apple vodka, now you try.

- I have not yet agreed, but okay.

She swallowed, touching her head very touchingly. A slight wrinkle lay on her forehead, but soon disappeared, her close breathing filled with the delicate smell of apples. Artyom took the flask from her hands and also drank, the Calvados turned out to be very strong, although what could be expected from vodka, albeit apple. The neck still kept the warmth of her lips and for the next few minutes this thought did not leave his head.

- No, well, really, as if in a movie scene, and the screenwriter doesn’t have much fantasy, he said, handing the flask back to her.

“Be quiet and enjoy the moment,” Olga grinned.

Having finished the flask, they again lit a cigarette, and beyond the window the cotton twilight with a fiery strip of the horizon was gathering - all that was left of the sun.

- Are you generally alone, or do you shag someone? - Olga calmly started a conversation, juicyly puffing on a cigarette in the faint light coming from the window.

- Damn, you surprise me today, where is that serious girl I took to work, where did you go, Madame?

“She’s here, but tired, I’m for her.” Do not go away from the question.

- Itself then the first answer to him.

- I have been alone since last year, from the moment my betrothed left me.

- I.e?

- Pomer.

- Sorry, I sympathize, I did not know.

- Well, do not bother, I'm already used to it.

- I’m one, probably a year and a half, my darling left me, dropping to Peter with a thick funny biker, even ridiculous.

- Yeah. That's what I'm looking at, you're staring at me like that.

- What? I? ... Enough, I do not stare at you!

- Who are you kidding me or yourself?

- No one! You are talking nonsense, however, I stare if you see it.

“I’d be silent, Artyom I,” she said, moving toward him on the wheels of her chair. Her lips were again folded into a smile that agitated him, she drank a little to her drunk eyes and looked straight into her eyes. Artyom apparently also had enough of that dose of alcohol to understand the ambiguity of the situation and pull her to his shoulders. He finally felt the warmth of her lips, giving away alcohol and aromatic tobacco. They were greedy, impatient, and the language tried to penetrate into his mouth. His hands slid down from his shoulders to his elbows and pulled him closer to him, so Olga had nothing left to do but move onto his lap.Her hands went to travel around his shirt, looking for buttons. Having discovered them, she didn’t really stand on ceremony, perhaps even tore off a couple, but achieved her goal ñ her slightly cool hands fell on his chest, which was slightly covered with curly hairs. Artyom did not lose time and his fingers proceeded along her back, forcing her to bend slightly towards, and then felt the edge of a thin turtleneck and pulled up. Olga pulled away from his mouth and already pulled the turtleneck over her head, the air around for a second filled with the scent of those very perfumes. This somehow sharply urged Artyom to feel him closer, so his lips lay on the opened neck, forcing her to breathe a little faster.

“Wow, what agility you can manifest,” she whispered in his ear, in turn pulling off his shirt, tugging impatiently while he unzipped the buttons on his sleeves. After the shirt flew off to the side, he was able to press him to himself, with his lips now touching her ear without a cat ear, right under his hair, and the epicenter of the fragrance was revealed, which drove him crazy. The answer was a short sigh and thin fingers that slid along his back. Artyom had little to understand, instinctively his palms lay on her chest in a smooth white bra, but this did not seem enough and her fingers were already hurrying behind her back ...

- Front ...

- What?...

- Front closure ...

Having muffled the unspoken words with a kiss, he unbuttoned that very clasp, and Olga shrugged rather sharply, throwing him off her shoulders. Now his fingers and lips with tongue did not stop playing with appealingly protruding breasts, not forgetting the nipples as hard as pebbles. Left - and she moaned a little. Right - and now she is wriggling in his lap. Her hands did not find a better target than his trousers, or rather his member, who had long been tearing the fabric, dexterous fingers briefly fought the zipper and now they were already under the elastic of the underpants. Artyom groaned a little, sucking the very tip of the nipple at the same time and twirling another in a teasing way. Apparently this was the last straw for her, because her hand had already pulled off the bottom of the pants along with her underpants and nadrachila member, a little pulsing under her touch. Leaving her breasts alone, his mouth went back to her lips, but now Artyom wanted to tease her a little, nibbling at her just a little and penetrating her mouth with his tongue with quick bird movements. And his hands, in turn, went to study her jeans in search of a way to quickly pull them off her. Finally, he succeeded and Olga jumped up on his knees, turned in him with her juicy ass, playing began to take them off, shaking her hips and looking over her shoulder at Artyom hypnotized by this spectacle. But he could not restrain himself, he jumped up and threw her on the carpet, on his knees with half-stretched jeans. With his fingers he groped for her bit, full of intoxicating moisture, penetrated two boys into it and, moving them, did not forget to push it up a little, knowing that this way she feels that she is almost fucked, but not completely.

- Are you so wet from your boss? He whispered, leaning toward her. She smiled languidly through light moans.

“Will you give yourself a taste of it?” She said. Artyom liked this idea and those two fingers now went to her mouth. A quick tongue quickly cleaned them, she began to suck them a little, hinting at more. But he was no longer able to restrain from the sight of this wonderful ass, whitening before him in the dimness of the office. Slowly he entered her hot chink, forcing her to arch a little towards her and make a moan that Artyom wanted to hear more than once or twice. His palms lay on her velvet buttocks, slightly parted from the sides and clenched with whitened fingers. Olga, too, was on edge, and already slowly waved to meet him. Then he himself began to slowly pick up the pace, urged on by her moans and posture - she put her hand on the glass of the window, reaching to the floor, while the other was already playing with her clit. In the twilight of the office he could hear only from heavy breathing, groans and light claps from sharp frictions.

- Take my hair ... Yes, so ... Do not regret ... Ahhh ...

Artyom didn’t think to regret it, he screwed her tail on his fist, pulled his head to himself and stuck his lips into it, without ceasing to enter it more and more quickly, faster and stronger ...

Olga increasingly podmahivala him, her moan sometimes turned almost into a cry ... He did not notice anything around, surrendering to this action without a trace, with all the strength entering it, feeling that she was getting closer and closer to the climax of this movie, yes, of this strange movie with a strange screenwriter. Now she just screams, screams and just squeezes his cock inside herself, forcing him to move is just frenzied, feeling that he too will end soon. Unable to hold back any longer, Artyom with a drawn out moan took out a member of her, and then she intercepted him and violently pulling her to make all the hot sperm shoot on her back ... Artyom fell impotently next to Neina floor and closed his eyes, returning to this world . Somewhere far away her voice spoke:

- I will continue to call you Artem First, do you mind?