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He does not pay, not advance, -

Happens in life only once.

Fortune knocks on the door, and you

Not home...

(Naum Olev, song from the cartoon "Treasure Island")


She was the most blonde blonde he had ever seen. Her hair was not even flaxen, but moonlight - their color was mixed from some elusive alloy of gold, silver and platinum. Even peroxide clarification did not give such shimmering silverness, which nature and the sun, the cruel southern sun, which had completely burned out her hair, gave her.

It was a natural color, never touched by paint. Someone, and Lipatov understood such things. He saw it in the roots, in the whiteness of the eyebrows and eyelashes, and in the freckles, and in the eyes — aquamarine and transparent — like shallows under Fiolent. Such whiteheads are found only in villages and in the provinces, where ancient genes are still strong and have absorbed the millennial sun of the steppes. At dusk, she seemed to be gray, and it was strange to look at a half-child figure with a white cloud-like head.

She looked like a girl, thin, seemingly naive, like a village tsutsik, but on her knees and feet Lipatov saw that she was about eighteen. All day long she was playing in the waves with a bare-faced peanut - a little brother or nephew. Karapuz did not speak yet, but he was already running like a meteor, and he was screaming like a siren of the rescue boat "Vigilant." It was possible to watch their games for hours, and Lipatov watched them from a lounge chair, sometimes distracting with the memories that Alupka generously supplied him with - the city where he had something to remember ...

Particularly strongly rebelled what happened two years ago.

Then it was late evening - ten, and maybe eleven o'clock. At such a time, tourists made noises only at the central alley, and the whole Vorontsovsky park, unlit and empty, became an eerie alien place. Silhouettes of shorn bushes in the darkness seemed monsters, ghosts and alien ships. Lipatov came here for this horror, savoring the tickling in the nerves - but he felt uneasy when he came out to the only lantern that burned in foliage, like the red eye of a dragon.

I’ll go up to him, and from there the keeeek will jump out, ”Lipatov teased himself,“ the keeek jumped out, and my bits and pieces would go on a backstage ... ”


From the red tie of the tree, it suddenly became exposed and howled the snout, so nasty that Lipatov, with a fright, farted, swayed and shoved his shoe into the slurping puddle, which he carefully avoided.

The snout was filled with shameless laughter, while Lipatov was still standing in a puddle, gasping for air.

“Oh, you have fallen,” he finally said.

The laughing snout moved a little away, but, to his misfortune, Lipatov had a third dan on aikido ...

Instant throw - and the snout was dragged to the light.

“Don't yell,” Lipatov told him, “there is still no one here.”

Snout screamed twice as loud.

- Are you a nit? - Lipatov was yelling at him, not hearing his voice. - And if a heart attack? Or a stroke?

The captured individual was a thin boy with a shaved head, painted with colored paints, like a mackera - from the back of the head to the chin. The unknown artist tried and turned him into such a monster that next to all the orcs with Sauron at the head seemed nyashki.

- Have fun? - shouted Lipatov, beast from his own fright. - And now I'll have fun too. On the soft spot for a long time ogrebal, eh? Come on ...

Holding the boy with one hand, he yanked off his shorts with panties. The boy suddenly fell silent.

“Woooooooooo,” Lipatov drawled.

The last thing he expected was to see what he saw.

“Exactly,” said the captive in a choked voice. - Girls are not beaten.

- Do not beat? - squinted Lipatov. - That's right, do not beat. With girls do more.

- What are they doing? ..

Around there were only darkness, stars and the red light of a lantern. Lipatov peered at bare shame, quite a mature and shaggy, like a hamster.From the chest notes in the voice of his captive, from the plastic of her body and with some other elusive details, he realized that in his hands was not such a green fruit, as he thought at first. “There’s nothing wrong with that, and no one will know ...” Lipatov assured himself. After hesitating, he looked around, spat on his fingers - and launched them in bare shame.

- Eeeee, what are you? what are you doing? The captive squealed.

- Hush, - Lipatov wheezed, confidently massaging her pussy. - This is a small execution. You will know how to scare people ... Where did you go, do you stuff it? The top of the head is bald, but what's overgrown here ...

- Where it is necessary, there it’s done, not yours ... Ahhhh ...

His fingers were doing things he had long ago learned by touch - gently, without being rude, but persistently and mercilessly. The gap instantly flowed, and the girl stopped screaming.

- Yeah, get in the taste? - He whispered, increasing pressure. The girl puffed, then began to moan softly and sway, replacing the caress rhythm. Very soon she fluttered on his arm like a bird, and Lipatov reveled in his vengeance, his depravity and power over her body. He did not let her finish, and she whimpered, sitting down on caressing fingers. The bottom line was to caress her clockwise, moving away from sensitive points all the more, the more excited she was. Such torture forced her to die from excitement just as much as Lipatov wanted, and to finish it when he considered it necessary.

Suddenly Lipatov felt that he was losing his head.

- How old are you?

- Aaaaa ... 18 ... With half ...

- what are the 18? Where are your boobs?

- Where necessary, there are tits ... ahhh ...

- Before fucking? Have a boyfriend?

- Ahhh ... not fucking ... no boyfriend ... ahhh ...

- Probably lying. Nicely?

- Yeah ...

“Then get on all fours.”

- Ahhhh ...

- Quickly!

He suddenly stopped caressing her, and the girl, stunned by a sudden pause, looked at him, swaying by inertia.

- Quickly! And then I will leave like this. I will quit and leave.

He was terrible, and he hoped that the girl would not agree. But she asked:

- And where? Right here?

“No, let's go there on the lawn,” Lipatov began fussing. - Come on?

- Then let it go.

- Run away?

- We'll see.

He let her go, and she, looking intently at him, freed her long legs from her shorts and jumped, golopopaya, on the lawn.

- On all fours! ..

She got cancer. Her T-shirt slipped to the back of her head, titling her back. Lipatov, trembling, unbuttoned his pants and shut his eyes ...

The girl did not lie: her pussy was narrow, although wet, and Lipatov slowly vyebyv inside, restraining himself with the last forces. His young lover howled, biting his hand.

- Rrrraz! - Lipatov pushed all the way, breaking through the hymen. The girl screamed. - Oplya! That's done! - For joy, he slapped her thigh. “Now, monster, relax everything you have and move with me.” I forward - and you forward. I am back - and you are back. Just a little bit late, okay? So, here soooo ... Let's go!

At first, he fucked her slowly, coordinating pushes with her, and then, when he felt himself growing into her and swaying with her in a single swing, he let himself go and gave himself up to the intoxicating rhythm, forgetting everything.

He did not know her name - and did not even know her face, tightly lined with a zombie. In his fantasy, vague contours were worn, which merged into a single face of an obstinate beast, a stuffed-meowing, which shaved the hair from harm, and Lipatov was drunk from her mystery as a drug. It was night around, starry, cooling in the near autumn, and the cold penetrated the heart, weathered the remnants of conscience ...

"God, how good ... to die, how good," he thought, pressing deep into the taut buttocks covered with goose bumps. The girl dispersed and fucked passionately, nervously, with each push exhaling the pectoral sound; they flew from it more and more often, until they merged into a single moan, thick and very, very adult, like that of starving wives. “They'll notice,” thought Lipatov, writhing from ...

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