"The dog will not jump", - Christine personally punched bridle Dmitry Vladimirovich.

"In order not to stick his dick where it should not be."

A thick needle passed in the place of a deep heart-shaped groove under a plump mauve head, which made a wry face when it fell into disarray.

- Ah, - grunted Dmitry Vladimirovich and grimaced. The pain was compensated by gentle kisses. Christine stretched her lips into a heart, found the urinary canal with the tip of her tongue, and went down the thick trunk, clasping it with her lips.

“Be patient, please,” the red-fury was not joking. She really pierced through the bridle, widened the hole with the help of an ordinary ballpoint pen moistened with alcohol, and wore a silver opening ring with an inscription flowery engraved on the outer edge:

I ♥ christie

The lock, soldered into the ring, had the shape of an ear from a safety pin. He clicked easily, and a miniature key the size of a nail went to hang around the mistress's neck.

“Now you can fuck me,” Kristy smiled contemptuously, flirting with a black manicure with a fat grayish scrotum of Dmitry Vladimirovich.

- What, is it already possible? - Professor silly grinned, pretending that he did not hurt. The torn pain in the pierced bridle immediately reminded me that it was not.

Christie measured the professors with a rating look:

- Now everything is possible. Let's see how much is enough for you.

- Maybe let's take off while? - Dmitry Vladimirovich studied the sensations in the groomed groin: the hard gravity of the silver ring, covering the prick, increased, the slight burning sensation in the pierced bridle weakened. The foreskin has already managed to move over an unusually thick, plum-like head, hiding traces of enslavement.

- What, already is itching? - Christie sniffed contemptuously.

She was twenty years younger than the professor, only yesterday she changed her school dress to a university outfit, but she was already filled with grief. The betrayal of one, second, third, random pregnancy, abortion lined up a series of failures in the record. On the day of majority, Christina Mukhina vowed that she would never again become a sex toy in the hands of snickering machoes. For this, she pinned a finger and in blood signed a contract with herself:

"From now on and forevermore, any man who desired me will wear a ring of loyalty on his penis."

Let all the women know whose dog tramples chickens. So that not a single crack would dare to covet! Let them know who they are dealing with. The bitch does not want, the dog will not jump. Let those who commit adultery know: Christie will not tolerate betrayal!

The man was caught quick and easy. Gray hair beard, a demon in the rib. He is married, two sons of almost the same age.

Professor of Philosophy offered alternative green opium to green students. The problems of existentialism worried them no less than the sale of cosmetics. Before the trembling in the knees, the thinkers were listening to the cathedral chants of the white-haired patriarch. The desire to study, learn about the body, as well as the world, excited young minds. Mentor fueled interest: the most trivial truths told so that drools flowed. And not only. Ladies attentively listened, his eyes glittered with oil lust. Have you ever heard the case, fuck Samaritan, that candy to take off.

Their love was made manic. But, unfortunately, in obedience to the basic law of projection, the girls were looking for sex on the side, while remaining spiritually faithful to their leader. Sometimes he broke down, hinted that he did not mind to continue the seminar in a more intimate setting, but the students blushed, ran away, embarrassingly eating lips, as if having sex with a professor was a blasphemy with a prophet.

All but Christina showed anti-humanism. She immediately appreciated the potential of the old dog. The courageous, one might say heroic, look of the male could not deceive, and then Christie put forward a counter offer:

- Come to me for tea. Let us discuss the subdominal quintessence of egocentrism.

And a bottle of red drunk, conceived the second. Christine told the story of failure, offered all of himself in exchange for a small circumstance hanging on the head of the penis.

New acquisition of Christie is poured steel. This is a good, solid bayonet, not knowing mercy. Dmitry Vladimirovich never fucked freshmen, and here such a cake. For years he licked at short skirts, patterned stockings, with suspenders, and diamonds. Young elastic boobs, unimpaired by feeding, tremble under the jumpers, reveal the excitement of the nipples under the laced bustier.

Butterflies hover around the professor, flashing a manicure and lips. Pushy dogs take theirs right in the corridor, unless they fuck the girls in public. Other foreplay will excite the professor's mind no less than the participants in the disgrace. He grazes beauty in the corridors of the alma mater. Round springy ass can not be wrong, it is clay in the strong hands of the artist. The girl stands on tiptoe, hugs the sculptor. He whispers aesthetically pleasing in his ear:

- Give.

The beauty turns around, a meaningful glance flies at the professor:

"Look, I'm in love!"

Takes the stallion to the stall of the female toilet.

She squats, reports to the professor: she serves the young penis, grieves for the teacher. Then he substitutes shaved vagina under the blows, and she herself is obstinate thoughts at the seminar. How is he there, a good-natured thinker, paws, probably, his little children with a paternal look? She builds her eyes, and sighs dreamily - oh, fuck! Young seed splatters in latex film. Zero-one-millimeter before the Fall.

Dmitry Vladimirovich was not jealous and was not engaged in moralizing. On the contrary, I learned how to encourage female students to incite them to sexual escapades. Young green, let them rage. And now he himself is bound by the circumstance of loyalty. The member sticks out with a stake, the heart of the prick is purple from the blood that has come down.

“Kristinochka, you are my darling,” Dmitry Vladimirovich sighs, poking into a melon under the anus.

“My darling!” The redhead mocks, wagging her bare bottom. Gollum rebels, fighting off the attacks of the old rider.

Mukhina laughs, sitting down on the ringed member. The spiral in the uterus distributes guarantees.

Dmitry Vladimirovich is fitting to fucking his first trophy. Here she is - a vivid first-year student, a red-dyed melodramatic actress with plump lips, stretched to the chin with a pretty horse face, elf ears, a vertical groove under the Greek nose, forever lowered offended eyes karich blight eyes. Wounded bird with a fiery pretzel of hair on the back of his head, with unshakable faith in monogamous love, Kristinochka is folded in a rustic way: a wide bone, a squat walk - it is poured out of milk, an elastic body for seventy breathes horse health, unstretched young milks are drawn by hard nipples to the chin fly up on the bumps of a rollicking life-mine-tin.

Bes-in-rib pulls a young mare to slash in a prick. Only the lust is stronger, the plum, constricted by the ring, flies into the champing melon, grows numb, and abrades itself to the tender walls.

Mukhina takes the words back:

- Yes! Yes! Cum in me! - grabs himself by shaking boobs, pulls them nipples forward, stretches the tongue, covers the left nipple, then the right.

Dmitry Vladimirovich - the embodiment of nobility. The gray-haired patriarch bends with a ridge, takes on the succulent hips. A long-awaited children's smile for a long time under a soft beard, the oil-paternal gaze of her gray eyes caresses the velvet body that extends beyond the ring. Professor sleek hairy belly nails a melon in a random orgasm, pulls the girl bit by bit, until she crawls onto a nearby kitchen table. There is no urine on his feet.

- BUT! Yes Yes! Like this! - Christie black manicure stretches the balls, increasing penetration. Dimitri wheezes, knocking out the last stone with a numb stick ...