hair with a comb, allowed to get dressed and go out for a walk in the garden before going to bed. At night, the bedroom window did not close, because the fever receded and could no longer be afraid of drafts. Before lying down, Wendy stood thoughtfully at the window, with her hand propped on her cheek and resting her elbows on the window sill. The heartache receded, apathy came, but in general it became much easier, just weakness tormented her so far. Already lying in bed, she for the first time forced herself to remember in full detail not about Mr. Grande, but about Peter. When she fell asleep, a smile touched her lips, and her cheeks a light, healthy glow.

***

“Oh, it's you, ladies' man ...,” Peter grinned crookedly, scratching the cat that had just jumped on the window-sill, shamelessly holding up its neck. He was pretty smiling, showered and rubbed his head on a gentle male hand. “Listen, know when to stop,” Peter shamed the cat. - In the end I did not come to you, shaggy glutton. Tell me better, how is my girl? Did you look after her? Although whom I ask ... After all, you are only interested in your own person ...

The cat, apparently offended by such a straightforward guest, meowed loudly and was like that. Peter reached out and threw his hands behind his head, leaning back against the window opening. He sat on the windowsill by the wide open window, smiled thoughtfully, and slyly squinted at the stars with his cat eyes. A warm wind tugged at his unbuttoned shirt on his tanned muscular chest. Today he shaved, and his young, chiseled face acquired a touch of aristocracy. His hair, of course, did not even think of cutting, and they tickled his neck and cheeks. He did not want to hurry, he liked to anticipate.

Finally, Peter raised his right hand and snapped his fingers. At that very moment a light appeared in front of him, which immediately began to ring and rush in front of his nose. Peter caught him with a refined dexterity and arrogant carelessness, brought up the writhing and indignant little beauty squeezed into a fist and briefly kissed her doll face. Ding rang again, though she no longer tried to stretch her clasped hands. Peter kissed her again, gently and innocently, again and again. Ding was embarrassed, silent and wilted. He knew that she would not be able to resist him, no matter how angry he was. She knew that too. Peter easily jumped off the windowsill, went to the bed with the sleeping girl, intercepted Ding by the wings and shook her over Wendy's face. The magic dust flashed in the air and slowly settled on the delicate cheeks, on the closed eyelids, on the long eyelashes, on the seductively plump lips. Wendy shuddered, began to whimper, shook her head and squeezed the silk sheet with her fingers. Ding silently fluttered out the window and sped off into the night. Peter did not want to think about what she now feels - later she will be comforted.

“Now is another matter,” he whispered sweetly and fondly, bending over the sleeping Wendy. He knew what dreams this dust was letting. He knew how he did not want to wake up during them. Wendy threw her arms up on the pillow and kicked the blanket away. She was wearing a silk long shirt with sleeves "flashlight", fastened on the chest on round shiny buttons in the form of pearls, but the hem rode up, exposing slender calves and beautiful round knees. Peter curled his lips in a lecherous smile and ran his fingers over her thigh, lifting a light, softly iridescent fabric, as smooth as her skin. Her maiden charms appeared before his eyes — dizzily seductive and untouched by no one. He stroked the closed soft lips with his thumb. They were smooth, white and pink, tender and naked - only a narrow dark strip of short curls stretched from the edge of a seductive fold to the lower abdomen.Peter unceremoniously took the girl’s slender leg aside, greedily reveling in the sight of her blossoming and beginning to flow out with the nectar of a flower. His pulse beat nervously in his temples, as well as in tight leather pants - he swallowed, licked his lips and stroked his clitoris, slightly moisturizing it with girlish juices. Wendy groaned gently - her head was rolling over the pillow, she tried to pull her legs together, but Peter did not allow her to do that. In the dream she was so weak and malleable ... However, when she wakes up, she will not have a chance to avoid the fate prepared for her either.

Peter leaned over her pussy, gently moved the clitoris with the tip of his tongue, stroked his slender leg, bent it at the knee. He touched his lips to her soft plump lips, then to the resiliently pulsating pink bud, lightly grabbing them with his mouth or sliding, fingering and gently sucking. Her taste mixed with his saliva and seemed to penetrate into his blood, causing her to boil, and turning him into a beast, albeit affectionate and patient, but demanding and persistent. The girl moaned sweetly and subtly, fingering the silk pillowcases on a soft pillow and licking her sponge, which dries from frequent breathing, while her uninvited secret guest was tormenting her flaming pussy with painfully skilled caressing.

Having played enough with her excited flower and loudly licked her lips, Peter raised himself and slowly began to unbutton the buttons on her nightgown. The clasp ended just below the breast, and when the last “pearl” was finished, Peter moved the fabric and exposed one of her breasts — a white, resiliently protruding, luxuriant, with a delicate, bud-like small rose, nipple. He carelessly tickled this beauty with the back of his fingers, watching Wendy frantically catching the air with open lips, how her eyelids fringed with long dark eyelashes tremble, her luxurious chestnut curls curl up snakes. His hand became more insistent - she stroked, squeezed beautiful women, skillful fingers caught nipples, pulled, twisted and gently touched them with their very tips. Peter leaned over her mouth, began to kiss wet, frankly, but not assertively, allowing her to dodge and again fall into the trap of his lips and tongue. Her breath got off, she tried to babble, but Peter caught her face by her chin and this time dug into her mouth with a greedy, wild, unbridled kiss. He would like to do something like that with her tongue and lips, but to hurry with such a charmer would be terribly offensive and stupid — one should have first brought her and herself to the point of exhaustion.

Peter could taste the magic dust of Ding in his mouth. Oh, he was incomparable - sweet, like nectar, intoxicating, like young wine, depriving one's will, like the moisture of an excited girl. He even imagined he was afraid that Wendy might dream now, even in a dream so sweetly responding to his kisses. She began to rush under his hands and lips, as in agony, but he squeezed her in his arms, not giving to escape. He stuck his hand under her shoulders, hugging her, and continued to caress her sensual nipple, seductively edged with thin laces like a girl's chaste shirt. The modest woman looked so helpless and innocent in a dream that he was simply torn by two unbridled desires - to caress her forever, exhausting herself with insatiable lust, or to fuck her immediately, breaking all the brakes, rudely, shamelessly and meanly, before she woke up. His free hand slipped to her pussy, peeking out from under his battered shirt, - he rubbed her slick from nectar bud with his thumb, and the middle gently slid the hot current crack. The girl shifted uneasily in his arms. Peter began to kiss her again, deeply plunging her tongue into her greedy mouth, while his fingers were torturing her nipples and fucking her virgin pussy. Finally, Wendy groaned so sweetly that he would have been happy to listen to these tender, uncontrollable sounds, but he had to remember that he was at her parents' house, so you had to remain careful.Peter fell to her lips and quickly moved his fingers inside his passionate sleeping mistress. Wendy arched, snuggling up to his hot body, as if trying to break free. Her slender legs trembled, then squeezing his hand, then relaxing helplessly, and her hips voluptuously moved up and down, accelerating the rhythm. What a pleasure it was to observe ... Read more →