Three long years between two phone calls. That call was her farewell. Then her voice was philosophically calm and detached. With his calm, he pressed. Calm means the final decision. It seemed that this her voice was material, that he, getting out of the speaker of the telephone, penetrates into the brain and tears it to pieces. And breaking, still crumpling shreds.

Of course, they did not part by phone, but before that, eyes in the eyes, but Oleg remembered this particular call more. Last point in parting dots. She didn't call again. Oleg a few days later from mutual friends found out that she had already come together with the one who was before him. And it is even more painful. He began to drink, and a month later he left to work in the north of the country.

And this call. After a decent period of time, when already the water has flowed more than the sacred Lake Baikal contains. Her voice is still calm, confident and unconstrained, as if it were not these three years. Forgotten and unforgettable intonation. And for some reason, my heart beat, as before the first kiss with a classmate.

- Hello!

- Hello.

- How is it going?

They agreed to meet in a cafe, not far from her house, where they often liked to go earlier, in that still life. Irina has not changed at all, only the corners of her lips are now not lifted up and mischievous sparks are gone from her eyes. But everything is also fresh and beautiful. Nobody takes this from her except time. She talked for a long time about everything in the world, he was silent and listened, a wave of irritation was growing in his chest. She said that she had changed her job, that she had a fight with her best friend, that she had broken up with her man, and God knows what else. And the wave in the chest only became more and more. Why did he even come here?

- Ira, why this meeting?

- I wanted to see you ...

Oleg looked at how she put her hand on his palm. Long beautiful fingers. He looked at these fingers for a long time, then got up, took her hand and pulled her out of the cafe. It was already dark outside, and the summer heat was replaced by a slight coolness. They got into the car, which flashing headlights and squealing tires, drove away from the cafe. Oleg drove a few blocks ahead and turned into the courtyards, having made his way through them, they drove into a small wasteland surrounded on all sides by bushes and trees. Oleg knew this place very well since his youth. Since then, it has not changed.

By that time, as Oleg had muffled the engine, his cock was already in the mouth of Ira. She was always distinguished by the speed of thought and the excellent response when she needed it. Skillful language and soft lips knew their business perfectly. The dense ring of lips, tightly squeezing the trunk, quickly moved up and down it. Oleg grabbed Irina's blond hair, strapped on the back of the horse's tail, and literally pressed her head into himself, not listening to her rales. Ira choked, but she did not grumble, although she had never particularly liked that attitude.

When she already had tears from her eyes, Oleg, also by the hair, pulled her head away from himself and got out of the car. Irina, having got over the gear lever, got out after him. She wanted to kiss him, but he turned her back to him and said hoarsely:

- Bend down.

She bent down, resting her palms on the seat and felt him pull up her tight skirt on her belt. Everything went wrong. And he behaves wrong. But now something really ...

Oleg pulled off her pants and crouched in front of her booty, ran his hands over the elastic buttocks. There were no thoughts, there was only wild excitement and beautiful ass in the face. Beautiful and still beloved. And look forward to hell, which at the moment even nails hammer.

Ira, of course, could escape when he began to roughly put his fingers into her anus. Could, despite the fact that he was a healthy, eighty-five-man-peasant, to crack him in the face ... Not because she was a prude and had never done this, but because he was doing it this way and this way ... Could.But instead she just bent over her back and closed her eyes.

Oleg wedged a member in her ass, looking down as her flexible body shuddered at his blows. He understood that she did not receive any pleasure from this, but rather the opposite, but he did not care. Sensing an approaching orgasm, he abruptly left her, pulled her hand, turning her face to him. He pressed her shoulders and she dropped her knees to the ground. Seeing in front of him his trunk, which had just fought in the rectum, Ira shook her head, but Oleg, holding her tight, already poked her head in the face. And again she could push him away, but only opened her mouth.

Zipping up his pants, Oleg reached into the glove compartment, took out paper napkins.

- Here, take it...

- Fuck you ... - Ira got up from her knees. Knee sorely. She shook herself off, straightened her skirt, went around the car and, sitting down in her place, began to rummage around in her purse.

Oleg got behind the wheel and slammed the door behind him. Looked in the rearview mirror. The cop was driven into the wasteland, lit up with headlights, and stopped not far from them, about five meters away. Nobody left it. Apparently, the same arrived, Oleg chuckled to himself and, having backed off, left the vacant lot.

On the road, they were silent. When the car stopped in front of Irina's entrance, Oleg, looking in front of him in the windshield, said indifferently:

- Good luck.

Irina looked at him. If he had looked into her eyes at that moment, he would have seen black angry lights in them. But he looked ahead. She silently got out of the car and slowly walked to her entrance.

Oleg threw a glance in her direction. Watching Irina fumble in her purse for the keys, he lit a cigarette. Damn, as a shit izvatsya. And in his own, because he did this bunch himself. Well, maybe at least this will be the last point in such a prolonged break-up point of separation ... Time will tell.