/ The authors / Maxime
Svetlana Mikhailovna lived alone in a three-room apartment. Sons went abroad, with bloody ten-year war with her ex-husband Nikolai. As the feudal strife began on the basis of jealousy, it has dragged on all these years. Nikolai on trips from Moscow checked whether the door to the room, determined by him through the court, was well locked, whether something was missing in the required living space. Svetlana would have long ago exchanged an apartment and left her ex-husband if it were not for the fear of being ...
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Angie returned fifty dollars for sex. I twisted my purse, shook out hundreds of dollars collected around the offices, accompanied by the words: “Here, take it.” That's all I have. I'll bring more later.
A guilty smile froze on the lips of a big girl, a frightened look for approval. - Angie, are you alright? - intently studying the full fucked facial expression. It does not seem to damage the brain. - I think Pavel Valerievich will not be very happy when he finds out. - Pavel Valerievich ... - she ...
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A guilty smile froze on the lips of a big girl, a frightened look for approval. - Angie, are you alright? - intently studying the full fucked facial expression. It does not seem to damage the brain. - I think Pavel Valerievich will not be very happy when he finds out. - Pavel Valerievich ... - she ...
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Marina farted at a party, did it indecently loudly, drawn out. She waited until the silence was established between the serving of dishes, the forks stopped knocking on the plates. The conversation, which had previously curled around the price of meat, lost relevance, was drowned in everyday life. And at this moment Marina gave the best example of gas creation. She was tormented by gases in the morning, she released them prudently in her room, in the bathroom, on the street. But at a party I could not help it, I issued a tirade of perpendicular contradictions.
Until now ...
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Until now ...
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- Something is happening with the TV today. Maybe you will come and see? And then I have no brains. Zhorik ponazhimal yesterday on all the buttons, now no sound, no pictures, - Aunt Nina smiles naively, spreading his hands, as if to say: "I am a woman, I’m a fool, and all women are fools, and men are made to fix TVs."
I nod: - Yes, of course. You can see. Only if the TV broke, I can not help. Masters need to call. - Well, come on, come on, look, - asks Aunt Nina ...
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I nod: - Yes, of course. You can see. Only if the TV broke, I can not help. Masters need to call. - Well, come on, come on, look, - asks Aunt Nina ...
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A phone call slowly connects consciousness with reality. Diligently I get out of bed, swaying, hobble to the bag with the phone. On the clock three or fifteen, on the phone unrecognized number. “Alo,” I say in a quiet, wary voice, tempered in office multi-paths. - Alo, Dima? Hey. This is Sasha Remdyonok. Do you remember this? I'm sorry that I’m calling at night, the case is very urgent, - Remdyonok breathes excitedly into the phone, never heard him so excited ...
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The black as tar tribal bull, playing with its muscles, is idly approaching from the side. It is as if he does not notice her, is marking time, silently drilling the milk body with an indifferent look. She is trying with cow eyes to guess in him a quiet burrow. And only a hard, like a log, smooth, shiny as the barrel of a gun, a member, dangling from side to side, says the opposite.
Suddenly, the bull jumps on the machine. The black barrel twitches, freezes, the invisible jack lifts it until the barrel freezes in ...
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Suddenly, the bull jumps on the machine. The black barrel twitches, freezes, the invisible jack lifts it until the barrel freezes in ...
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“Can I rely on you?” - Sergey Aleksandrovich stretches a book to Jeanne.The rarest copy is the 1906 edition. As in a nightmare, she accepts an offering — an expression of the young teacher’s personal confidence in a freshman student. “Yes, of course,” she murmurs, pressing the folio to her chest. Bust she basically does not wear, nipples imprinted with pimples on a beige turtleneck. Black stretch jeans are wrapped around a chiseled figure. Jeanne is adored and desired ...
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Vadim was nailed to the Germans at the end of the second course. They refused to do military service in their homeland, and they were sent to Belarus as a punishment for two weeks. In fact, alternative service in Germany is multifaceted. This is Vadim understood, talking with the German guys. He first heard a German speech from a native speaker, with a strange accent, a bunch of incomprehensible words. Already on the second day, armed with a notebook and pen, he undertook to intensively study a living German for him ...
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- Are you here alone? She asked, turning around. - With a family. - Oh, - the girl thought. The edges of the lips went down. Shifting back legs, she looked with sad eyes down at the pool. White monokini slipped on the ass, forming a fold between the buttocks. “My first husband died in a car accident,” she said, battling with constraint. “Since then, I can't help thinking that he is looking for me,” she turned around again, awkward ...
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Having fallen in love, Yana felt the beauty of magical surrealism with every cell of her being. Masturbating in the morning, she moistened a finger in her mouth, then went down to the pink pearl. A shaved flower of love came to me in the trunk of a proboscis, giving away nectar in a drop. Yana became a butterfly feeding flower. At this point, the girl dissolved in magical surrealism, immersed in the picture, which painted the imagination. Butterfly varnish divine extract exuded ...
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