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As if sensing the attention of the owner, the sleeping beast started, swung and slightly changed the angle of inclination.
At the same instant, a memory lightning struck Oleg Petrovich in the head, bright as direct sunlight in the windshield of a car, a picture: Mademoiselle Lyadova, exercising with a chair.
(Further your exit, maestro !.
I, how many didn’t get puffed up, trying to give a colorful scene to the erection that covered Oleg Petrovich with all the consequences “flowing” out of it, to the shitful vulgar vulgaris, nothing happened to me.
And it would be nice, elegant, without abusive language, like that! Dare, colleague! I will be very grateful to you for your creative support.
) As if sensing something was wrong, Lyubov Ivanovna froze under the bathroom door, putting her sweaty ear to the keyhole.
But nothing but a legitimate splash of water, the noise of a toilet bowl and the usual grunts and coughing didn’t hear

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her husband.
As soon as she managed to jump back to a safe distance and take the relaxed pose of a caring housewife looking at the stain on the wallpaper, Madame Khryakova caught a powerful push of air from the door that had almost flown from its hinges.
On the threshold of the combined water closet, previously meeting the sanitary needs of a densely populated communal apartment, stood her husband.
Although no! The man who fell out of the bathroom in one loincloth of red towels with the emblem of the football club “Spartak”, differed from Olezhek Hrjakov, like a Himalayan bear from a teddy bear.
Khryakov’s face was twisted with an ominous smile, the corner of his mouth twitching, exposing from time to time a yellow canine.

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– What’s wrong with you, Olenka? – Lyubov Ivanovna got alarmed, – Did you get hot water in the shower ?! – Do not you dare! Do not dare call me by this stupid female name! And do not make an idiot out of me !!! – the Himalayan pan roared and added more peacefully, – As if you do not know that the hot water was turned off a week ago.
Frau Khryakova retreated to the positions prepared in advance, that is, she lay down in a long-dismantled matrimonial bed, turned her back to half her husband, and sniffed offendedly.
Oleg Petrovich, as he could, pulled out time, waiting for his wife to get bogged down deeper in Morfey’s arms, however, on TV at this time, nothing worthwhile was shown, and he couldn’t drink more than three glasses of tea.
At about twelve I had to go to the bedroom.
Trying not to squeak with the treacherous floor, Khrjakov reached the family bed with the careful gait of a pregnant ballerina, bent the edge of the blanket with two fingers and slipped into bed.
Having assumed a horizontal position, Oleg Petrovich prepared to relax and plunge into a sweet dream, consisting of one continuous picture already known to us, when he suddenly noticed with joyful amazement that it was him.
comrade again acquired the inflexible hardness of a true communist.
The grunts froze, then restlessly fidgeted under a blanket, deciding for themselves the difficult question: what to do with a masterful brat? And when he was about to desert the bathroom to a saving mirror, the inflamed fighter was suddenly covered by the imperious right hand of his lawful wife, Madame Khryakova, in virginity, we recall, the Komsomol Pustodyrova.
– Well, what are you toil, silly? Come here – mighty thighs hospitably thrown open and.
(Monsieur Bonjourkin! I hope for you and hope! Only, I would like to weave into the description of this scene that Oleg Petrovich sincerely wished her husband more than ever for all the years of dismal family happiness, and Lyubov Ivanovna even shed a tear when she discovered surprising husband rich unspent potential village tyrant).
He did not want to live like this anymore, next to the hateful woman, despising and hating himself for being physically intimate with her. Elisabellaxxx s bio and free webcam.

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