did not have. I did not know how to express sympathy I did not feel. I saw the situation from the outside, from the very beginning, Anya was easily led up to the temptations of the airman tour. And I, like a fool, still helped, pushed her in the back: “Go, Anya, fuck yourselves. Love can not be missed! ”Now she otgrebala to the full, and I smugly bite my elbows.

“This is all my fault,” I mumbled softly, feeling the goosebumps rising up my skin. “You shouldn't have pushed you on dates with Martin.” I pimp, and I have no forgiveness. Do not blame yourself, you burned, because highly appreciated my opinion. That's the whole story. Sorry if you can.

I got up, picked up a guitar on my elbow and rolled out of the room. Quietly shut the door behind him.

Ten minutes passed, I managed to change into shorts and a t-shirt, uncover a guitar, check email. Anya knocked gently on the door. I understood from the knock that it was her.

“Hello,” I murmured, opening the door. - I've been thinking, maybe tomorrow ...

She did not let me finish the phrase, clung to her lips and then immediately threw her arms around her neck. She was burning drunk passion, under the onslaught of which I fell on the wall. Anya slid her body in a tight-fitting dress, rubbed on me, looking for her thigh. I was immediately excited. Her wet hot kiss with tongue twisted inside out. I, too, flew off the coils, wrapped my arms around her waist, at first awkwardly, then put my hands on the iron ass, and my dick filled with lead. I bulge under my fly. Anya sucked my mouth like a sweet peach. Our breath got lost, we fought in the agony of passion, and I felt that I was slipping behind her, tearing myself into a drunken abyss, where sex rules the ball.

“Wait,” I looked up for a second. I was breathing hard, fighting with the temptation to tear off Ani's dress at the same second. “You're drunk, so you don't understand anything.” Tomorrow you will regret.

“I won't regret it,” she murmured to the tigress. Anya stuck into me with a sharp manicure, rubbing her groin against her knee. - Do you want me? - she breathed just as loudly. Heart pounding, giving me a chest.

- I do not want to lie to you.

“I know,” she pulled the belt, fumbled downstairs. - You're the most honest. I now, I want you - burst out of her like a spasm.

She unexpectedly unbuckled her jeans, her fly, and slid her hand over the underpants, under which a member stood a stake.

“Stop,” she whispered, dropping to her knees.

Anya lowered the panty gum, froze for a second considering the swaying member, extended by two palms.

Her first gentle touch with her lips made me flinch, burst into euphoria of no return. Lips slid over the head, down the trunk, back. Anya tried out a new member, as if surprised to study its nature, before proceeding with satisfaction with caresses.

She was an experienced lover, much more experienced than me. Soon her mouth rhythmically slid along the trunk, dropping deep down to the middle. With her fingers, she flirted with the scrotum, her hair swayed rhythmically behind her back.

She sat on the floor on her knees, her hips spread to the sides. Her stone round ass, covered with white stretch dress, swayed in the same rhythm. I lowered my hands, clasped Anina's chest. Sliding his palms under the dress, groped the middle of hard nipples on the elastic spheres. She moaned, languidly, with a taste of desire.

Condom lay in my backpack. We found ourselves on a bed in hot embraces. I had a tight-fitting dress with Anya, I was diving my tongue in my chest, I went down over my stomach to white panties, which covered a pulsing bud under a stone pubis with a thin strip. She was sweetie, like birch sap, smooth-shaven, blossomed with internal lips, at the base of which she began to play in the tongue a gentle knob of the clitoris.

At this moment, when my tongue penetrated into her bud, Anya opened her hips wider and pulled her knees towards her. She squirmed her booty, looking at me, arching her neck, a silent prayer was read on her face, please do not stop.An open mouth bit his lower lip, the tigress’s gaze burst into lust. Anya grabbed my hair with a hand with a sharp manicure, dug into the skin and pressed deeper into the pink membrane between my legs, breathing, pulsing under my tongue.

I licked it with sharp strokes, squeezed, penetrating deep into the hot sour well, rising up, spreading the inner lips of the vagina into a pink oozing pear.

Wilderness She was wild like a forest cat. When I entered it to the end, she slapped her heels on the back, earned her hips from the bottom, sucking me in like a pump. Clutching her heels behind her, she pounded to the rhythm with me, recalling the need to satisfy her to the end. Powerful thighs, trainers inflated over the years, grappled around me. A round iron ass, fleshy, tender along the contours, playing with steel under the arms, parted under me, jumped towards. She fucked me from the bottom, jumped on a springy bed, catching a movement towards me.

And I didn’t screw it up: I smashed it in the face, afraid to finish first, delaying the rolling orgasm with a deep swipe and rubbing the pubis. Anya huddled in a drunken hysterics under me, almost bit off my tongue when I tried to merge with her in a kiss. I did not stop and crushed her, start up, and physically strong body, pinned a gentle female squish, gave the final chord when Ani no longer had the strength.

She lay quietly and marveled when I finished, spreading tenderness. Affectionate look, filled with love, caught emotions on my excited face.

- Cum in me, please cum, - she bit her lower lip again. “Yes, yes, like this,” she whispered, pushing me with her heels. - Fuck me, yes, fuck.

I stretched out in the lower back, the numbed member stopped sending signals of pleasure, after a second he eclipsed my brain with an explosion.

- Yes, - Anya arched under me in an arc. - Stop it, honey, stop it, - she scored with her heels, tightening her chest with her palms.

I exploded, pouring jets of sperm deep into Anin, pumping weekly abstinence into her.

We fell into each other's arms, lay for a long time, without leaving a half-drowsy state, weakened and happy.

11

The next morning, the bright sun penetrated into the room, slid the strip across the floor, approached the bed, caught us sleeping. I rolled over, after a minute Anya galloped around the room to the toilet. She put on her dress and went to her room. I guessed that she would go for a morning jog. By the time I finally woke up, she had already arrived and was operating on a small kitchenette, which was located behind the partition.

- What are you, scrambled or scrambled eggs? She asked, looking out to me.

Anya shone with happiness.

I was still in a state of complete prostration. From the moment Anya attacked me at the door, I managed to rejoice, regret, be frightened, doubt. Now I was again faced with the fact: Anya was preparing my breakfast in tight dark gray leggings. The white sports topic tightly adhered to her pressed sports breasts, Anya's hair was dismissed, they were sunny waterfall, dark at the roots, swaying behind her back. She was my tigress, an athletic girl, confused, perhaps, like me, seeking the truth of life.

I approached her from behind, hugged her back.

“You know, I thought,” Anya said, hiding behind feigned comic frivolity in her voice, morning, forgivable. “You're too good for me,” she grinned awkwardly, turning to me, stirring an omelet in a griddle. “If you leave me, you will do the right thing,” fear flashed in her eyes. For a short, barely perceptible instant of eternity, her soul swung open, exposed by what disturbed her. “I don't deserve you,” she said softly, dropping her eyes.

- No, actually, we are both good. With you, I am ready to go to the end.

- Yes? - she shuddered, meeting me with a joyful happy look.

I nodded, took the last step and kissed her on the lips. My hand slid along the Anya's lower back, found a wet fillet of the spine, sank to the lower back. Anya was arched by a cat, her elastic round ass played under the arm with waves of muscles. Anya was standing at the stove, and I knelt down, tightened my leggings.

My cock tied up my shorts. I licked Anin salty peach, warming it with deep strokes, fucking tongue. My girl turned off the stove, leaned with two hands on a wooden tabletop. Anya rose on tiptoes, her knees, elastic thighs trembled.

“I feel so good with you,” she whispered, twisting her neck.

With both hands, she spread the balls of buttocks, giving me the opportunity to penetrate deeper into her tongue. Anya was flowing with hot, colorless, almost tasteless juice of arousal. I quickly rolled the condom over the penis and took the beauty off the stove. This time we fucked without thinking, without getting used to it. Still, at night we were afraid to stumble, to cause aversion or, on the contrary, to face something new.

Now I relaxed to take hers, and Anya gave herself, thinking about how she could become better in order to get more buzz.

“I have my own exercises,” I joked, feeling the sweat roll down my back.

Anya laughed. Her balls turned red, I stuck them on the penis, not thinking about the consequences. We have all day ahead, I will fuck her every two hours, if health permits. Never before have I wanted so much no girl. From the minute I saw Anya in the gym, I could not think of anything else.

We had a long thorny path.

Anya loses control, flying up on a member. I again brought her to the point of no return. She moans, moving towards. My dick in latex flies into a squishing vagina, piercing it like a hot rubber cake casserole. I bake it, clutching at the soft thighs filled with muscles.

We explode in orgasm at the same time, Anya groans, dropping her head down, hanging down on outstretched arms. Her head is hidden under a shock of hair, only a powerful, pumped back is convulsing in front of me, playing with muscles. Juicy round ass meets with a stake, which itself explodes towards. I beat out the last moan of Anya, a thin thread of saliva hanging from her mouth. Anya moos sweetly, as if crying. She did not understand me, too. I look like a jackhammer that has hit the cherished hole. Hot sweat gushes down your back, stomach. I finish with a muffled roar, like a lion, falling on my beloved, filling it with sweat.

- Boiled eggs, - coos Anya from somewhere below, choking with laughter.

We rzhem, wiping himself with a towel. Breakfast will wait, first a joint shower.