- Damn baba! Now we cover.

“Hugh, how can you say that about a lady.” Now I slap her ... Damn, the hand does not rise on the woman!

From the dialogue of Billy King and mustache cowboy Hugh in the film Alla Surikova “The Man from Capuchin Boulevard”.

“It would not be happiness, but misfortune helped. So they say, when the misfortune that happened in life miraculously serves as the beginning of a new happy phase in life. Or the cause of an unexpected happy event. And they say that violence begets violence. The last statement is not quite right. Because violence also breeds hate. And hate is a bad guide in making decisions. Especially if these decisions are made hastily and rashly. Sometimes it is too late to change everything and turn back. And you have to accept the fact that you have done. But even after that there is always a choice. After all, in fact, we face many ways. We just do not see them, or do not want to see them. We ourselves drive ourselves into a corner and become victims of circumstances through which it is not at all difficult to step over. Another great Confucius wrote - it is very difficult to find a black cat in a dark room, especially if it is not there. But they continue to search, and they see no other way out. As in the experience in physiology from the third year of medical faculty. The light went on and the monkey held out a hand. But the banana was pushed away, and a stick was laid next to it. Well, you take a stick, and already stick a stick with this stick to yourself. But no, she continues to reach out and drool. ”

From the diary of Anne-Marie Fisher.

... night. Not a soul around. A lonely girlish figure perched under a tree on a bench lit by a dim street lamp. Dribbles light rain. The girl is wrapped in a demi-season raincoat and sobs loudly. Her face is beaten and she feels bad. She is without shoes. Feet in torn pantyhose hopelessly soaked. It is humanly pitiful. Who had the conscience to drive out on the street such a fragile and defenseless creature. But there is something else. Something elusive. What exactly? And I decide to help her by all means. Her long hair is disheveled, she is really beautiful, and this discomfort gives her some kind of unique sexual charm, despite the beatings on her face. I slow down, give it back a little and get out of the car. I walk, and I feel a thin invisible thread between me and the girl, and the providence itself leads me along it ...

***

“Two hits, eight holes,” my hubby shouted in a drunken voice, chasing me around the table and swinging a fork.

- Do not dare to touch me, you bastard - I ran away and tried to jump out into the hallway.

Realizing my intentions, he stood in the aisle, and threw aside a cutlery.

- Where did you lather again, your wife is wrong, where did you go?

- I performed overtime, brute, I earned money, it’s you who are wandering about inadequate pubs.

- Oh really. What are you following me? By the way, I am your lawful husband, and your wife be afraid of your husband, you know about it, slut? - he took a step forward and extended his hand to me across the table.

- Take your dirty paws away from me, scum. You think I don’t know how you and Natasha were shura-mura.

- This is my business, and you with your boss. Forgot? We saw how you got out of his car and wagged his ass. Whore.

- Yes, he just gave me a lift!

- I know I know. And then do not touch you. Now your stomach hurts, then menstruation, then the tail falls off. And with others on the side it does not fall off. Do you know what they call me now? Cuckold! That's all, you can't sell me anymore.

- This is your sidekick drunks so called. Judged by themselves. Less need to eat. Yes, you oppressed me with your eternal fume. Everything, I file for divorce.

- Ah on razv-o-o-d. That's how we spoke. Divorce, yes? I'll give you a divorce now. I'll show you such a divorce - and he suddenly rushed under the table, trying to catch me by the leg.

I jumped away, the passage to the hallway was free, and I jumped there, skirting a corner of the table along the way. Bad luck. Hooking my shoes on the protruding wooden leg of the table, I lost my balance and stretched out on the floor, hurt my knee painfully on the back of the chair that stood next to me. The chair with a crash overturned on its side, and the bag with the keys to the car, the salary card and the phone slipped out of my hands and flew away to the hallway. I tried to get up and get on all fours, like a pain in my knee shot right up to my brain. The next moment, my husband quickly crawled out from under the table, leaned on my shoulders and pressed him to the floor.

- Now I will show you who is the boss in the house, the paskuda is walking - he jerked me over on my back and breathed in my face with thick fumes - she wanted a divorce.

“Don't you touch me, you bastard.” I hate it! - and spat in his drunken face.

- Oh, well, okay, hate, right? And now you will fall in love - and with these words, he backlash drove me on the cheek.

I screamed in pain and sparks shot from my eyes, and in the meantime he tore up an expensive top on me in one motion.

- Let go - I put my hands forward, and desperately tried to shove him away. The forces were unequal. He gradually seized my wrists in one hand, and the second jerked off my skirt along with my underpants.

- I will scream. Let go of the good.

- Scream how much you fit. Nobody can help you here. I am at home and you are my legal wife. You have long had to correct the brains.

I resisted with all my might, but he slapped me another slap. From the burning pain, I went limp and was left defenseless before him. The next moment, his phallus, hot and staggering with a stake, steadily entered my vagina. One hand tightly squeezed my throat, and the second he sent his powerful member to me.

- So, now you will become a good boy. And suck, and give in the ass. And you'll ask. And thanks you will tell me. Slut

I jerked once again in a hopeless attempt to free myself, and through my compressed throat throat I managed to babble:

- Do not.

But a member of his confidently pushing the petals of my crotch, and tightly slid along the clitoris. I was suddenly blown away and paralyzed by animal carnal passion. The lower belly flashed bliss, I gently groaned, leaning towards. The drunk hubby was breathing heavily, overwhelming me with new waves of cheap booze box, but I didn’t pay attention to alcohol couples anymore. I caressed his neck with my fingers, pressing his head against my palm. He fucked me rudely and deeply, and I flexed and moaned. So boldly, cynically, and obscenely no one took me yet, and I expected this of my faithful least of all. It is a shame to confess, but the passion shocks suddenly boiled inside me, and with powerful flashes ran through my body, dissolving into my head with bliss. He eagerly licked my lips and face, and I tried to catch his tongue, substituting and moving towards. The pain from the beatings has evaporated to nowhere, giving way to an exhilarating sweet languor. Some kind of madness seized me, and the orgasm inexorably approached. My faithful was breathing heavily, and his belly was rhythmically slapping my thighs. Finally, an orgasm burst into my head with a myriad of stars, and a spasm of ecstasy ran through my body several times. Hubby pulled out of my gap his stick sticking a stake, and thick sperm began to splash on my face. I opened my mouth and tried to catch her tongue. The last spit, my loud moan, and with this moan the viscous warm mass still fell on my lips. Eagerly licked everything, I threw back my head, and groaned for the last time.

I was lying on the floor, and the tears of shame mingled with his sperm on my face. All the makeup was now spread, and I whimpered and sobbed like a freshman who failed an important exam.

My hubby slowly got up, pulled on his pants, and walked over to the table. He didn’t even look at me. He took an unfinished bottle of moonshine from the table, and put a gulp down from his throat.

“This is how I’ll bring you up now,” he said, wincing at stupid things — to be faithful to me