Dear reader! With the previous part of this little story is not directly related, but due to the fact that it has the same actors - I decided to merge. Therefore, you can read in any order.

The next rally of jeepers, to which Sanya and I set off, took place in the Crimea. The road was not close, but we have long wanted to visit this paradise (according to a friend living there) corner.

I was driving. Lil torrential rain, which in this part of the world quite frequent. Two wet female figures stood in the rain and waved their hands frantically. Generally, we do not take passengers, because the entire back seat is crammed with all sorts of belongings. But the situation forced. Downpour began unexpectedly and apparently caught a couple off guard. The little girl in a once white dress was especially cold. Now, wet, it was rather gray. There were no other cars on the road, I hit the brakes and passed back.

Now it became clear that the couple is a mother with a daughter. And if the mother was still holding herself and looking in doubt at the two overgrown men in a dirty jeep, then the frozen daughter seemed ready to climb at least into the trunk.

- Where?

The lady said some local name and waved her hand forward.

“Okay, we'll figure it out.”

Sanya moved the tent with sleeping bags, making room in the back seat. I looked for a place in the clogged trunk. I shoved a bottle of water under my feet:

- Sorry girls. Only one place. We are not local here, we don’t know the roads. Let's get you, - he turned to mommy, - sit down ahead, you will show the way. And here we are somehow try to make room.

We are off. I turned on the stove so that the passengers warmed up faster. Behind the back was a shaking motion of coexisting bodies. In the end, Sanya sat the girl on his lap. I was indignant at how wet she was and they fell silent. Mom in the front seat calmed down a bit, and we chatted mostly about changeable weather.

The woman looked about 35 years old. She was, as it turned out, really with her daughter. And a simple calculation showed that the daughter must be quite young. The lady watched herself and kept herself in shape, but the shower did her dirty business. I handed her the napkins from the glove compartment to wipe off the leaked mascara. The blouse stuck to the body, and through it was visible lace bra.

I looked in the mirror. The girl held on to the rail and looked blankly out the window. And because of her, Sanya was looking out and, catching my eyes, he suddenly winked at me:

- We had a towel somewhere, or else it was flowing from it.

Feeding the glove box towel, I looked back. Sanya reached out to me and seemed to accidentally run his hand over a small, but elastic girl's chest. Only now I noticed that the girl did not wear a bra, and through her wet dress small buttons of her nipples shone through.

- Let me myself, - the girl squeaked.

- You better hold on tight, and then hit. It’s shaking, ”Sanya retorted, and judging by the rustling, he was pressing the girl through the dress.

“Here is a doggy dog,” I thought, at the same time envying Sanina's arrogance and fearing a scandal that mamma could arrange.

Glancing back into the mirror, I saw only the face of a little girl painted in paint, who was also carefully studying the roadside bushes. Her blush convinced me even more that Sanya wasted no time. The lady next to me sat tensely and, it seems, like me, listened to what was happening behind her back. I pretended to wipe the misted glass, moved the mirror and, straightening it, turned it in the direction of the couple sitting behind. My maneuver did not go unnoticed. Mom suddenly spun in her chair and, showing miracles of flexibility, stretched her neck and stared at what was happening behind her.

- Do you need a towel too? - Sanya's voice rang out, and a hand with a wet towel darted towards her, burying the view.

I don’t know what Mommy managed to see, but when I looked at her, she blushed as well as her daughter and, gritting her teeth, thought about something, fixedly looking at the road.

To defuse the situation, I began to ask her where they live and whether to turn off the main road. She answered me in monosyllables, listening to sounds coming from the back seat.

Sanya, even left without a towel, without ceasing, was stroking the girl, lamenting that she was very cold and could get sick. In all the phrases he addressed her exclusively to “you”, as if he did not notice the huge difference in their age. And when she prohikhikal that he studies at school, he said in a surprised voice that he was sure that she was graduating from university.

When I once again looked in the mirror, one hand of Sani lay on the girl’s hip, slowly sliding the dress, while the other held her under the chest, “accidentally” stroking on the bumps.

I asked my mother how long we should go, to which she replied that the bus takes about an hour, but we are in a jeep, of course, we will drive faster.

To this I replied to her that the road was unfamiliar, it also rained ... And I slowed down to a snail, catching another pit filled with water.

The road must be said to be consistent. We ourselves, of course, would simply have flown through these holes, but I gently slowed down and rolled over another pothole, catching Sanya’s grateful glance.

The girl blushed and looked out the window, even without making attempts to remove Sanya's hands, almost openly pawing her roundness.

Mom continued to listen intensely to what was happening behind her, but she no longer attempted to turn around and see what was happening there.

Fifteen minutes later, Sanya suddenly quietly said that the girl stood up because his legs were numb. And it seemed to me that lightning screamed.

- It can not be, I thought, and looked in the mirror.

Whether he really unbuttoned his pants and dumped his dignity, I could not see, but he took the girl by the hips and gently sat him down.

I looked at the woman sitting next to me. Her face turned red, and she herself was breathing heavily. It seemed to me she was on the verge of hysterics, but perhaps she was afraid of raising a scandal, being in the company of two men on an empty road. I decided to add sound on the radio to mute the sounds coming from behind.

- Can I turn off the music? My head hurts - the woman closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.

Taking advantage of this, I was able to finally consider it already, without casting random glances. The blouse dried up and stopped shining. Her chest heaved from heavy breathing. The face had regular features, but reddened in spots. She bit her lip.

I looked at her legs, covered with slim jeans. Her hips rhythmically compressed, then relaxed. A small well-groomed handle was between them and also moved slightly. I almost flew into a ditch when it dawned on me that I didn’t smell hysterical here. The woman is just wildly excited, listening to how an adult man is pawing her daughter.

Looking at the mirror, I realized that Sanya had not lost any time. One of his hands settled on the small breast of the girl, and the other he covered her hand and stroked her instrument with her hand, covered with a thin cloth of the dress. The girl herself still looked blankly out the window and moved her pelvis, pretending to bounce on the bumps.

Some houses seemed in the distance, and I still slowed down. The hand, monotonously compressing the crotch, the lady sitting next to me, did not remove. There was a great desire to cover her hand with his and, unbuttoning his jeans button, to help her relax. Probably, Sanya in my place would have done so, but my natural modesty did not allow it. Gradually, as if she turned her head half asleep and almost hung from the seat. Judging by the quivering lashes, she struggled to see what was going on behind her.

And behind her, Sanya realized that the girl favorably accepted all his actions and did not show any attempt to stop or start making noise. He grabbed a small body of a girl in an armful, piled on himself, lifting him higher and already wielding under her skirt trying to move her panties wet from juices and attach his instrument to the holy of holies.

But it seems that the girl realized what troubles the fat Sanina's head could have done in her young hole.When she felt that something massive was attached to her already wet pussing, she suddenly twisted and curled her legs and moved Sana to her knee:

- Oh, here is our village! Almost arrived, - she said, as if nothing had happened.

While we were entering the village, I still managed to ask Mom for a phone. Planting them near the house, I noticed that the nipples are still very young girls bulging through the dress. She followed my gaze, and we both turned red.

“Thank you very much,” said the little girl, looking at Sanya.

When we left, Sanya long lamented. He was sure that even ten minutes of the road and in his collection there was one more tselochka. And I was thinking about perverts.

The fact that Sanya was a maniac, who always pulled on girls younger, I knew before.

Masturbating mother, who utterly initiated this situation.

I am afraid to take the first step towards a woman.

And only a young girl seemed to me the most normal of us. She was the only one who did not lose her head and perfectly controlled the situation.