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I managed to find a duty "repair" oilcloth in the pantry and spread it on the floor in the kitchen.
“What you need,” Vitaly approved and handed her a pair of cotton household gloves: “Here, put on, you will help.”
He brought bags of soil, sand, expanded clay drainage, some ampoules with drugs unknown to her, pulverizator and a whole set of shovels and scoops. She secretly admired how he rolled up his shirt sleeves, exposing his arms to the elbow. Together they set to work.
Nadia held the plant while Vitaly removed it from the tub. He gently freed the roots from the ground, cut some of them, then spread the water from the ampoule with water, sprinkled the root system and the walls of the tub with plenty of water from the pulveler. She watched as he spreads a layer of drainage to the bottom, mixing soil with sand. Together they brought the ficus back to the tub, and laid the roots of the new good soil. She enthusiastically helped seal the soil around the trunk, and it seemed to her that it should be so - that there were no two marriages, a string of unnecessary acquaintances, but there was only he, she, and this ficus. At some point, his fingers on the machine lay on top of her hands, pressing into the elastic peat pillow:
“Oh, I'm sorry,” he said.
“No, nothing,” Nadezhda burst out, feeling, as through the dense cotton of gloves, something burst into the body, swept by the wave, as if with boiling water, scalded veins. And what happened after it seemed just as natural and natural that it didn’t happen - and the world would tip over, sunk into non-being.
Vitaly reached out for her, she leaned towards her, accepting his kiss with a thrill in her heart - confident, scorching and so sweetly heady that the walls of the kitchen swam before her eyes. Without interrupting, he pulled off his gloves and began stroking her face, neck, fingers in the thick hair on the back of his head. Surrendering to his caresses, she literally felt like through his touch, as if saturated with renewing, life-giving energy. “And he really is“ vital ”, a thought flashed through her, gleaming like a silver fish in a stream of sensual pleasure that engulfed her. Never been so good - so natural and calm. He hugged her tightly, pulled her to him; she wrapped her arms around his neck, trying not to touch the gloves soiled in peat. For some reason I didn’t want to shoot them, she liked this little limiter. He can touch her, she does not; this thought agitated her even more.
Continuing to fondle her mouth, he unbuttoned the buttons of her blouse and, opening the floor, climbed under the soft knitwear, smoothing over his hot sides and back. Nadia cat-like bent under his hands, clinging his bare stomach to a men's shirt. How good! ..
Finally, tearing off her lips, he covered her face with kisses, sank down the neck to the clavicles, slipped on the breasts squeezed in the cups of the bra. Without stopping the main occupation, Vitaly pulled off her blouse. Hot tongue damply plunged into the rift between heaving breasts, hands dived behind her and, having disengaged the hooks of the fastener, were released from the laundry. Yes, it is so much better, so good! ... She lay back, her hands resting on the oilcloth, and arched, eloquently exposing her breasts filled with feminine ripeness and her nipples swollen with desire. He accepted her invitation, and the next moment, Nadezhda overwhelmed with bliss - she was kissed, crushed, stroked. The gut literally languished and had long been eager for desire, while he continued to play with his lips and tongue with her nipples, periodically, then squeezing them, then twisting his fingers.
Passion filled her from the inside like a bowl, and barely the desire splashed over the edge, Hope, dropping her gloves, pulled the man over, dragging her lover to an oilcloth strewn with peat.They kissed again, and now her hands were unbuttoning his shirt, climbing under the fabric, clinging to a hot, strong body. Vitaly lay on her, sitting between her thighs and leaning on her elbows. Hugging his legs, Hope, not without pleasure, felt the demanding pulse of his passion. What is this happiness - to feel that you are desired. For a woman, it is vital, like sunshine, like a breath of fresh air. Without this, she has no life.
Rising, he delivered her from his home pants and panties, she unbuttoned and pulled his pants to the knees. His poured member, trembling with impatience, immediately set his sights on her wet mink. She lay down again, spreading her knees wide in a silent invitation. The head touched the entrance, he pressed and plunged into it all the way, filling it with her hardened, heated flesh, her hungry for man inside.
"Nadia ... Nadya ... my girl ..." cooed his hoarse voice at his ear, passionately.
She did not hear him. In front of the clouded eyes, in tune with the men's frictions, the green leaves of ficus were swaying on a white background. In the flooded mind of pleasure, the Klyusha Tanka and Lizkiny diamonds dissolved. Purified by his fire, Hope returned to life. Her body, with each blow freeing itself from viscous poisonous bitterness, became easier and easier, until the soul inspired by ecstasy tossed a blue bird screaming with delight towards the ceiling.
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We do not know each other personally, but you often meet me in the corridors. Usually, your look slips over my chest and rushes further in the direction of travel. I'm not even sure that you can remember my face.It hurts, but turns it on. Then I can not calm down for a long time, because your eyes excite lust in me ... I am ashamed to admit it, but also to keep myself unbearable. I decided to open up. No, now my courage is not enough to give my name, but I want to ...
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+10 !!! :))) BRAVO !!! :))))
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Thank! :))
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Great, yes.
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Glad to see again at a party, Owl, drop in again)).
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RedShoe, cool story! But I did not have enough end. Just one - two sentences. But this is nagging, which did not affect my assessment. I add to my favorites.
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And just a couple of sentences seemed to me superfluous and I removed them)). But these were probably the wrong sentences;)).
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Well, this is just my opinion)))
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And what am I? I am for it"!
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Great!
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Whom we see who we see! Well, finally you looked! Glad you liked it, come in again)).
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wonderful story! inspiring hope for the Babs)))) 10.
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Why only babtsam?))) Men, too, it seems to me. That's because every single person in life can have such a ficus))))
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Allow me to conclude: every peasant on a shovel, every woman on a ficus, and everyone “in the garden,” build happiness together! :))
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probably you are right ... but I still think that here the comparison goes with the girlfriends ... and here it is, happiness, suddenly and unexpectedly)))
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Well redhead, from the very beginning they captured me in captivity with their style, lyricism. +10.
There is happiness on earth
On the ground scattered
Love blossomed in me
At the behest of a whim.
An agronomist appeared,
Special in all plants.
Thunder is clear from the sky
I burst into salvation.
To save me,
Happiness unbalanced.
Here he is a prince, even without a horse,
I’ll start everything by new ya
My ficus you, dear,
We will live on a couple of us.
We do not wither with you,
As two branches are old.
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I can’t decide what I like more - your creations marked “poetry”, or comments to other people's opuses? ;))
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I repeat: how many people, so many opinions.You can not listen to everyone and please everyone.
The story is very solid ... Not porn, in its arrogantly fucking tinge, namely, a solid erotic ... A dozen honest.
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Thank)).
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It is a pity, the mood for the spring, at the level of a still sick ficus.
Though a ficus with a human face, he was painting about.
+10
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Thanks for the tip)). Ficus recover, and the mood is changeable stuff;))
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Sex is not a reason for dating. You never know what they are waiting for in the morning.
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I hope, good morning)
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Pah-pah-pah, so as not to jinx it!))))
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It happens differently. Who first the intellects meet, who has the bodies.
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And, it is interesting ... the intellect in which head first climbs ...?
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Each person has his own weak link.
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Everything is beautiful, exciting and without vulgarity!
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I tried to)).
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The style of the author is cool, but not a bit. Overcast somehow, not entertaining.
Probably the trick is that it is vital. Like, check it out - the arrow of Amur suddenly digs into the ass to a philistine who lives his simple, colorless life.
Ehhhhh, but I want a little peppy-sharp) Spring g)
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And what do you arrow something amorous in the ass is not sharp?)))))))
Nitsche-Nitsche! ... Orange “Kamaz” with vigorous pepper will be tilted on your street. Uzho on the consignment note to release on the route;)).
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Waiting for pt)
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10!!!
You are so different! Red Shoe. I did not expect to see in your performance a romantic story of first love! Nice looking. Here is such a ficus happened with Nadia and her author)))
One can only hope that the flame will ignite from the spark. They will live long and happy and give birth to a bunch of kiddies.
And Zoya Vasilna will be a good baushka. To nurse the grandchildren and bake them cakes on Saturdays and Sundays, and sometimes on such days)))
Tasty write, Korovenishna! A fan of your creativity!
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- Ogres ... they are like onions!
- Smelly?
- Multilayer! ...
(c) Shrek
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Yura, you amaze me! What does it mean you didn’t expect a “romantic story” from me? !! Yes, in my verbiage wherever tkni - one romance and pink snot;))
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Probably I judge by the last)))
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