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go...
From the house came the oohs and lamentations. Cursing, Lipatov wandered home.
He did not manage to fall asleep, despite sex before bedtime, and for the first time in his life he spent the night walking from corner to corner.
***
All morning he was looking for her, roasting in the sun, and found only for dinner. She was with her parents, and Lipatov walked behind her like a fat, cursing to himself and out loud.
At about five o'clock her parents faded, leaving her with Gustik on the beach, and Lipatov, having trodden, rushed towards her.
- Hello! - he painted a picture smile. - Here I came to tell you thanks.
- For what? She raised her silver eyebrows.
- How for what? I was very happy with you. I got great pleasure ...
- I know.
- Listen, let's get acquainted. So many years we know each other, and still ... It's funny. My name is Zhora ...
- Jora? He's Gog, he's Gosh? ... And me is a girl on fours.
“A longish name,” Lipatov tried to laugh.
- Aha ... Gustik, Gustinka, look, what a wave! Oh, look, look! Uuuuuh! ..
- yyiih! - bass repeated Gustinka.
She played with him, not paying any attention to Lipatov. He tried for some time to infiltrate their games, but it turned out falsely to the obscene, and he moved away like a beaten dog.
Frowning, he ran into the sea. Floating fifty meters - behind the bun, and back - crawled, salted and angry, on the shore. The girl with Gustinka was not there.
He found them in her house when it was already dark. Having persuaded a passer-by to call the boy to her, he went behind the bush, not believing in the success of his undertaking. But she came out, and Lipatov immediately rushed to her.
“Listen,” he began, breathing heavily, “I ... I ...”
- Well? - she stared at him. - Well, what do you want from me? What?
- I want ... I want ... I just want to be with you.
Lipatov suddenly realized that this was so, and was surprised at this.
- Well yes. Probably not “to be with you,” but “to fuck with you”? Until you find any new in the bushes ...
- And you do not want to fuck with me, right? You do not want at all, yes? - Lipatov pestered her, not noticing that he was screaming.
- Hush you! ..
She took him by the arm, dragged him by the bush, and, looking back, thrust his palm under her trunks. Lipatov's fingers dipped into hot gel.
“My girl ... but why ...” he mumbled, and suddenly pulled her pants off.
“What are you saying! ... not here ... they will see ... parents are near ...” she whispered, gasping for breath, but Lipatov did not listen and squished her pussy, which was swollen with sticky juice. With the other hand he got into the buttocks, reached into his pussy, pushed the entire crotch onto his arm, put his finger in the hole - and began to turn his hand, clinging with female flesh on all sides, without ceasing to massage the other hand with the clitoris and folds of the bud.
All the shame of the girl, from the anus to the clitoris and vagina, was gripped by this killer massage, each millimeter of her was moving, feeling, stroking, caressing, teasing, tickling ... so that Lipatov barely kept her. With her hands she clung to Lipatov — his T-shirt, shoulders, and neck — her thighs were wound by a flywheel, and hot streams ran down Lipatov’s arm, dripping onto the grass ...
“Well ... look, how good ...” muttered Lipatov, when she, having finished, hung on his neck. - Let's go to the park!
“No,” she said hoarsely.
- Let's go to! Well, let's go! - He led her, hugging her hips, and she followed him, repeating "no, no ..." - Wait ... cowards ...
He helped her to stretch her trunks — and dragged her by the hand into the park. She dutifully trailed behind him, staggering on the move.
When he reached the first lawn, he pulled her over the hedge, hugged him, and began to kiss her hard, hard. She wrapped her arms around his neck, responding just as hard and strong, and after a second their bodies stuck together in a bending silhouette, from which black spots of clothing flew off.
Finally, Lipatov pushed her back and for the first time climbed her naked, first got into her stomach and chest, first plunged into it from top to bottom, like a honey bath, and for the first time rubbed her pubis about her pubis, rough and thick, like a sponge. His mistress was scratching his back like a cat, and heeled her grass with her heels ...
Nearby, passers-by stomped now and then, forcing lovers to restrain groans, grow cold, press themselves into the ground and into each other - but it was impossible to tolerate, and Lipatov very quickly poured a tight fountain of bliss into it, and then licked her clit for the first time she could not restrain herself, and nearby rang out:
- Somewhere in the bushes fuck ... Well done girl, keep it up!
When they were lying on the grass, angry legs stomped alongside, and Lipatov heard:
- Well, where is she wearing? The child is not fed, things are not collected, to leave in the morning ...
- Oh! - The girl rose on the grass. - Dad. Looking for me. And Gustik hungry ...
- Stop! - Lipatov grabbed her arm. - You're leaving?
- Yes.
- Where?
- I will not say.
Looking back, she got up.
- Wait!
Lipatov jumped up behind her, but she held him by the shoulders, and he sat back on the grass.
- Not.
Quickly pulling the swimming trunks and swimsuit, she ran to the hedge ... stopped, returned to Lipatov, bent down, clasped his head with her hands, firmly smacked her forehead - and ran away, jumping over the bushes, like a goat.
Lipatov sat on the grass for a long time. Then, pulling the panties and somehow gathering the rest of his clothes, he went home.
***
From five in the morning he was on duty at her house. When the family, laden with suitcases, shopping bags, tents and Gustik, moved to a halt, he waited for time and followed.
He managed to sit in the same minibus. The girl noticed him, and all the way he sat on pins and needles. In Simferopol, he followed them to the platform, watched as the girl was feeding the breasts, and prayed that at least something would happen.
Jerking some boy, he handed him a note and asked him to pass it to the girl. The note read - “I am waiting for you at the women's toilet. I'll wait until you come. ”
We had to wait for a surprisingly short time.
- Well, well, well, what do you want? - Almost crying, she told him when she came. - Well, what are you torturing me?
She was wearing a white dress with a long skirt to the floor. White fabric and white hair so effectively shaded the tanned skin, that everyone looked at it.
- I wanna be with you. Why are you persecuting me? Why? - Lipatov boomed, having lost all his aplomb.
- And what, I ... marry here to marry you, right?
- And why not, by the way? We have a son with you, by the way ...
- Hush! Do not scream.
- That you do not scream! You just use me, play like this ... you ... you ... Forgive me! Give me some chance ...
- A chance? "He is not paying, not an advance ..."? What chance do you need?
- Any. Now you will leave, and ... Give me ... give me at least a test, at least something, at least ... at least give me a phone!
The girl was crying.
“I don’t even know what your name is,” Lipatov muttered in a falling voice.
He terribly wanted to hug her and hold her close, but he was afraid.
“I won't give you a phone, and ... I can only take yours.” Come on, dictate.
She took out a mobile phone and, without getting on the buttons, wrote down his number.
- Everything, Jora. Everything. Everything! Do not follow me. - Sobbing, she looked at him and slowly moved away.
Lipatov twitched after her, but she shook her head, and he froze at the toilet like a mannequin.
Having stood there for half an hour or more, he moved and walked, finally, not knowing where.
Through the window, he saw the train approach, taking in a multicolored crowd with suitcases and guitars, moving off and disappearing, flashing a green tail. (Especially for eroticspace.info - sexitails.org) Outside the window was an empty path.
Standing at the window, Lipatov turned around ... and suddenly twitched, as if from a current. Dropping his cap, he frantically fumbled in his pockets until he got the mobile phone.
There was a text message from an unknown number.
Chilly, he opened it and read:
“Test number 1. Buy a 500 l inflatable pool. for small children and send to the address: Taganrog, st. Chekhov, 18, apt. 57, Solomatina Lydia Alekseevna.
Upon receipt of the pool will send the test number 2 ".
Lipatov stared at the screen for a minute or more. Then he jumped and jumped out of the hall.
- So, Lida. Good girl Lida. Lida from Taganrog. Liiiiida. Lida-Lida-Lida. Lida-Lida-Lida-Lida-Lida! He recited, smiling like Mickey Mouse.
Seeing the Internet cafe, he dived in there, put the bill to the dispatcher, opened Yandex and dialed: “500 liter inflatable pool for children to buy.”
Sitting at the computer, he sang, giggled, mumbled out loud and interfered with all the neighbors at once - and they looked at him and looked at each other, rolling their eyes.
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Strange, violence and romance get along in one story ... I really liked it. True wanted to cry ...
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Well, because they often get along not only in one story, but also in one day lived, right? :)
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Well ... it happens, of course. I will not argue
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Great ... a start is promising :)
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And it seems to me that the story is over :))
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Well, I will hope for the best)))
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So here it is quite clear that everything will be fine for them. Once she sent the address, and he was delighted and buys the pool :)
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Nuuu, after the pool there is a task number 2 and so on.)) A lot can be screwed to the story!
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You can always fasten. But it is not necessary :) Excessive tightening will ruin everything. The author is just clever, so wrote!
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Wonderful! It seems rude, but in fact with tender feelings :) Thank you!
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Sometimes for a woman there is nothing more tender than rudeness. According to the women, again :)
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Yes, and it happens :) But not all women feel that way.
In the story, I was bribed by the fact that in the end the “weak”, ungainly heroine wins. She is real. Whole nature, a woman with a capital letter. It is this quality that changed the hero.
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Perhaps so.
And the hero was very upset that they were taking a tsatzu :)
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So it goes without saying :)
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Why else? Happy ending, as it is) Only it seems to me that a little crumpled up and the heroine is slightly cardboard fool, and everything is as usual, that is, excellent. 10+
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Still, read the stories of other authors - good advice; I have something to learn from the same person.
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Yes, it is an inexhaustible source of experience. I will advise you "Chocolate Au", the dilogy "Duel" and "Devilry in Odessa", my favorite ones with him.
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And yet, it’s better for a novice author not to criticize from the very start. Making a reputation is not the best, I know for myself.
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I just noticed what they pointed out to me. So I decided to say, without any backward thoughts)
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Well, in the end, after all, everything came together in the “woman on top” position :) This is the intellectual heartthrob Lipatov quite pulls on the title of a fool (and completely cardboard). And the girl ... in the golden times of the late scoop, this was called the “whole person” :)
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In my opinion, Lipatov just trampled himself into the mud. Could not resist, nasvinachil, and then conscience seized without bread.
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In that way :)
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Yeah, funny, of course being bald and in color. But at the beginning. And happy end, and the theater of the absurd. The author is able to hook. Yes, a bit hasty, but overall very pleasant. Still, how to be remembered for 12 moments, Cinderella (but it was said already in BOS) and the first story)))
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My principle is BLS: Without Excess Words. Lazy me
Let others think them out better :)
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Laziness grows with age or with experience?
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And with that, and with another, and in itself;)
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And again the bald multi-colored young girl ... Author, fetish?)) If yes, then such a pretty, harmless fetish ... Write more, your fantasies to me are reading before bedtime)))
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Even as many as two fetishes. But here he needs not a fetish for the sake of, but only for the plot: so that Lipatov does not recognize.
I will definitely write. Your erotic snore inspires me!
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It's so wonderful.
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Amazing, beautiful, incredible, very warm story. I really enjoyed a beautiful literary syllable. Candid scenes are very tasty written. What is usually considered obscene language is so organically woven into the text that it looks elegant and gives the story some piquancy. You can tell in a nutshell, and everyone will understand what they are talking about, but you can write in such a way that you will feel it even on a tactile level. Thank you for the pleasure!
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I didn’t push it, so I’ve duplicated: my dream is to tell in two words so that everyone understands what they are talking about and feel at a tactile level :) Thank you.
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My dream is to tell in two words so that everyone understands what they are talking about and feel on a tactile level :) Thank you.
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words closely, thoughts freely - our class wanted. but unsuccessfully.
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I read the story, then the comments, and stupidly look at the screen: how can I say that it would be both "cramped" and "free"? So nothing is glued! But, on the other hand, I found out that the leitmotif of the story is gentle rudeness; the main character is a romantic rapist. But the heroine is a whole bunch: an ungainly whole person; cardboard fool; bald fetishist; woman with a capital letter. And with this porridge in my head I decided to re-read it again, maybe something will change? There is nothing! Everything is just as beautiful and interesting! It seems that the “horse” wrote that the furrow does not spoil either in space or on the beach. And once again - BRAVO! ... P. S. And how is age determined in the footsteps, explain?
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Somewhere after the age of 17, a typically childish roundness of the knees and feet disappears from a woman. Before that, she is even thin. On the knees, two bones emerge in relief, the feet themselves — in form — become more bony and, very often, larger relative to the body. And the ankles are not so buried in the leg :) All this, of course, is micro, but on the whole it is always noticeable.
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I do not know what exactly I did not like ... maybe the diagnosis of a young girl, maybe your vocabulary is rough, or maybe the whole story as a whole.
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Well here! "I don’t know what exactly I didn’t like" - this is so feminine. Either it puts the socks on, or the eye section failed, or it howls too badly when it ends ...;)
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Do not be offended only, please, on my picky comments. Just to each his own.
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I do not know what exactly I did not like about this comment ... maybe the diagnosis of the author of the comment, maybe sheer envy, or maybe the fact that the story lacks the Romance tag and there are tags that justify the presence of coarse language.
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And your qualification allows you to put diagnoses?) Oh, you, man. Well, what is envy ?! And why should I? My God, what a disbelief you are!
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My qualifications allow me a lot. Even ignorance.
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Well, finally, Human has reappeared and pleased) You made my day) I smile) Thank you!
And the combination of the hair color and the eyes of the heroine is not, incidentally, inspired by the image of the now popular GoT aka Game of Thrones? ;))
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No, the combination of hair, eyes, age and character is inspired by a real prototype :)
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zashib ... 10+ has nothing more to say
rarely meet such great stories
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Ah, beauty))) Ten!
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Just one word: "Bravo"
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very good! style of writing reminds V. Tokarev. full literary work !!! You are the real Author !!! (I am sorry for not calling the Writer ... more likely to blame for this genre ...)
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Rested, returned to their readers with new heroines and new expressions. (hairy) Glad to meet you and thank you for the great story !!!
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Avtor yavno umen. Vopros chto vy delaete na etom saite?
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Same as others: sublimate :)
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Your heroine is like a girl I saw at the Pyatigorsk hippodrome, we often go there with a friend when we fly to the Caucasus.
She and her son, too, often happens there.
This is true?
Do you like to leave direct answers ... I hope for an honest answer ...
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Well, on this site, you don’t have to hope for direct answers to questions about the name and place of work;)
But I will answer you honestly and frankly: no. I met the prototype of this story in Alupka (who would have thought? :) seven or eight years ago. From this prototype there remained only a photograph (I will not show to Rui;) and a fragment of the memory that he took and grew up into a story.
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Thank you, Human for the answer. But it is very similar ... Alupka, this is good, I have been there sometime ... Speaking of photos and drawings, some of the stories on this site are on-line. I understand a whole gallery of life memories and pictures in you ... It may be worth inserting them into stories, it will be interesting. It is unlikely that your friends (girls) come here, and it will be more interesting for us, your fans and connoisseurs, to get acquainted with your masterpieces.
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Not my genre. Let the reader work-fantasize :)
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Michel, if you are interested in knowing a woman’s opinion, I don’t think your picture idea is relevant to this site. If by chance some girl by name and photo recognizes herself in the heroine of this story ... or if her friends find out at all ... believe me, it is unlikely to be pleasant, quite the contrary. Exposing real photos and calling real names on sites of similar subjects is at least unethical.
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Well, here I am from Taganrog, I live on Chekhov further. I'll go check the address;)
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Say hello to them from the guy who was peeping from behind the bushes ;-)
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The story is awesome! I read mostly technical articles and such a delight to see a literary speech, with entropic verses, commas, metaphors. At the same time, emotional moments are written in simple language, short sentences, bright and exciting.
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The story is good, and the sequel will be?
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