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Irka pulled down her panties from a young lady and slowly inserted her index finger into her vagina.
Dilshat was twitching, but Julia, holding her hands tightly behind her, hit the lady in the ribs.
– Do not twitch, filly! – the girl hissed, and painfully pulled the captive by the hair.
Irka caressed the captive’s vagina with one hand and pinched her nipples with the other hand.
“I beg you, don’t, I’ll finish, I beg,” the young lady was babbling, closing her eyes from the rising pleasure.
Under the guts of the girls, the prisoner finished violently, and then she, weak and weak-willed, continued to kneel and cry.
– Enough to roar, you fool, we did you a pleasant, – mocked the girls.
– Bend down, bitch, – Irka forced the lady to bend her head to the floor, then put her leg on her back.
Then the bandits untied the captive’s hands, took her purse, and left, leaving Dilshat.
The young lady quickly collected her clothes, cleared the dirt from her, got dressed and quietly, quietly, as if fearing that the girls would hear her, went to the house.
“It’s so good that I have spare keys to the apartment in my back pocket of the skirt,” thought the lady, opening the door of her apartment.
She closed the door, went into the bathroom, undressed, threw clothes into the washing machine and then heard the smell of cheap makeup.
“Calm down, honey, you are at home, nobody will touch you!”, The lady calmed herself.
“It’s just the smell left by these perverts,” she told herself, standing in the shower and carefully wiping with a washcloth on her hips, crotch, breasts, legs.
Dilshat came out of the bath, wiped with a towel, blow-dried her hair, put on clean pink lace panties, long to the floor, homemade, fitting purple skirt and pink topic.
She went into the hall and turned on the light.
“You thought your five thousand tenge would be enough for us,” came the voice of Irka, familiar to the lady now.

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The girl was sitting in the chair.
The lady froze in surprise Behind her came Julia.
“I see you like long skirts,” said the girl, wringing her hands behind her back to the captive.
one.
This happens sometimes.
Bright women husbands are full of nothingness.
This leads to doubt the brightness of these women.
But not with her, not with her.
I imagined how he went out to the

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balcony in the morning in big family shorts, thoughtfully and methodically scratching his eggs.
And he said something like – “What a morning!”, And so every day.
When he sat on a chair, he spread his legs so much, as if he had a globe between them.
It seemed to him courageous.
In his youth, he was a prominent young man, still, he would have read the “Ulysses” to the end.
So he said at least.
She did not particularly like him, but his attention was flattering.
One day, he offered to go to his dacha for apples, she agreed.
Why? She did not know, apparently, she felt that this was her fate.
It was a warm autumn day, she walked with a light step, he whistled.
We sat in a room on a crappy creaky sofa, drank some kind of shitty wine from the cellar.
He began to pester as if there was nothing interesting in this, with laziness.
He kissed her sticky lips, squeezed his chest with his hand, threw him on the sofa.
She did not resist, it had to happen sooner or later.
Sweaty hand, scratching, crawled on the thigh.
The other hand ripped off the panties.
In the puffing silence, the nasty sound of a thunderbolt rang out.
Hard little dick made his way between his legs.
He did his job snorting and silently, when he finished not saying a word.
He got up, pulled on his underpants, without buttoning his fly, sat down on a chair, took an apple and began to crackle it loudly.
He looked at her like Hannibal after his victory at Cannes.
They parted in the subway, she had wet eyes and a bag, with these fucking apples, and he was happy and tired.
They got married in three months.
He slowly grew old, his teeth began to resemble the ruins of the Counts, at home he walked in his underpants, not noticing that the dick sometimes fell out of them.
Sometimes, he tapped her slightly.
Marriage is like marriage.
She closed in on herself, lost friends.
He was indifferent, he, of course, had a mistress who sucked him through a stick.
For this – trips to restaurants, to the circus, the wall in the apartment.
2
The pianist played Beethoven’s Seventh Sonata.
It was interesting to watch her reaction.
Sometimes the face was lighted up with a smile, sometimes the eyes were covered with sadness.
Her eyes, all understanding eyes.
During the intermission, she asked me for the program: -What did not have time to buy? Hd webcam squirt.

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