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Veronica turned around abruptly, squinted at the man, put her arm around his shoulders and kissed him on the chest, on the stomach, below the navel, then on the pubis of the man. You didn't see his penis, but then how greedily she began to put her mouth on it, you realized that it was big. The bitch loves big cocks. Your wife was sucking off a strange man in the men's room to thank him for fucking her like a whore.
You stood behind her and pulled your erect cock, and she sucked with her eyes closed. When she opened her eyes for a moment, gasping with pleasure, she saw that her husband had witnessed her drunken fall. She came here to be fucked. She had offered herself to this man and was now finishing her job. She was terribly ashamed and she wanted to take the cock out of her mouth and explain everything to you, but the man began to fuck her rougher in the mouth and Veronica could not get off him. A big cock entered her mouth, she was fucked like the last whore right in the men's room. She was drunk and just cumming and started crying with humiliation that she, a married woman, was being fucked in front of her husband.
The man pushed her mouth full of cum while cumming and still had enough on her face. She hid her eyes from you, realizing that you were looking at her finished face…
Breed it for Money
How to play with men even if you are a fat woman of 30+?
Simple as that. You only need to know two simple rules. I'll tell you now.
As an example, the situation when he came to meet you on the street, and then you went to the Central Department Store and he paid you a dress for 100+ thousand rubles will suit?
What if I tell you that I didn't even kiss him and he texted me every day after that?
The main thing is to know your own value, my friend!
Look.
I went for a walk on Patriki. Hat, glasses, smooth legs in light summer clogs.
It was during the day, because in the evening there is nothing to catch: people are like at a May Day demonstration and everything is already packed with pick-up trucks instead of "real men".
She waggled her hips, swam through the streets without hurrying anywhere, smiled at every post with lips circled in bright red lipstick and radiated feminine bliss with all her might.
It was as if I knew in advance that in just three hours I would be tightly squeezing the "man" with my finger rings at the very base, not letting him come without my permission.
One car, the other, the main thing is not to pay attention to them.
Only the one who passes by will circle around and then pull up behind me again to admire my 90 75 100 action figure.
"Need a ride?"
Here are the girls. This is the most important thing. It has already positioned itself. Then the main thing is not to miss. The man offered himself as a driver – okay, so we communicate with him as a driver. So he's ready for it.
"I'm going to the Central Department Store," I said curtly and commandingly. That's exactly what they like.
Behind me was a sleek, clean black typewriter. I don't know much about brands, I won't lie, but there were no rear seats, and that's fine.
"Sit down…"
I walked around the front of the car, creating a small traffic jam on Bronnaya Street, and stopped at the door. By no means did I discover it myself.
Cars in the back began beeping. But I just kept batting my eyelashes prettily from under my hat and glasses, as if I didn't even know how doors worked.
He bent down and opened the door from the inside.
This won't do, Kid, I think to myself.
I stand the same way. He knows what he has to do, and we're not going anywhere until he does what I want him to do.
The drivers behind him were clearly angry, but I waited until my boyfriend got out and opened the door for me.
"Oh, thank you. You're so gallant, " I said in a small voice as I stared at him. A blue suit, a crooked, sad gray face, clean-shaven, the top button of a white shirt unbuttoned, the belt tightly dividing the body into two parts, leaving a weighty, despite still young age, belly hanging over it. Ironed trousers.
Millionaires aren't always like the ones in your novels. Sometimes it's just very rich schmucks who spent their entire lives licking their superiors ' assholes.
Balding and most likely with a very sluggish potency. Usually, if the belt shackles the body so much , the blood no longer flows, as in a young guy. But I had yet to learn the opposite.
"Have a seat."
I carefully put one leg at a time in the expensive lacquered wheelbarrow. It smelled good inside, and music was playing.
He returned to his seat, shamefacedly not meeting the eyes of the other drivers who were honking their horns at us.
That's nice. For the role of a means of payment, I need such a balding patient.
You can't make a first impression twice, so I knew that the next 10 seconds after he got in the car and slammed the door would be the most important thing in our acquaintance.
The man sat down in a creaky new leather chair. The door slammed shut, shutting us off from the others, and the car began to move smoothly.
I leaned in so that he could smell the intoxicating scent of my perfume, running my hand down his trousers from knee to fly. She put her hand right on his still-unready cock and whispered right in his ear.
"Hurry up, little boy.
That's the most important thing, girls. Anchoring.
Take the bull by the horns. If he lets you call his little thing "baby" one day , do whatever you want with it.
"Do you come here often?" I tried to start the conversation.
I silently ignored him.
"Turn around here," I said, changing the subject.
As soon as we got out on Tverskaya Street, where there was a lot of traffic, I put my hand on his groin and began stroking him insistently through the tight fabric of his trousers.
The "kid" turned out to be quite large, but in such tight trousers he simply had nowhere to grow. I ran my fingers over my balls and felt " his heart beating."
The guy was taken aback and, as expected, stared at the road and just silently swallowed saliva while I "anchored" him.
I gently wrapped two fingers around his shaft.
"Mmmm… what a small baby you have…"
Beads of sweat trickled down his temples.
We managed to get to the Central Department Store. Where I abruptly switched from smooth caresses. I slapped his testicles with my hand.
"Come with me."
Schmuck obediently got out of the car. Corrected its economy in trousers. It took the purse and followed me.
Constant coldness, not interest. Looking at tsatskas. Conversations with sales consultants should rarely, but regularly, change to close contact.
I said in his ear, running my hand through the hair on the back of his neck.
Oh, what a sweet thrill it is to feel him literally fluttering in my hands. She brushed her hip against his groin.
We walked around. More precisely, I led him on an invisible leash through the hall with perfume and cosmetics and we went up to the second floor.
Almost immediately (it is important that it is sudden for him) I took him to the locker room.
I unzipped my little belly fly and dumped out his cock and testicles. She wrapped her arm around him.
Here, girls, is the most important thing. The grip should be confident and skillful.
For men, a handshake is very important. It's no coincidence that they always shake hands first to see who you're dealing with.
A sluggish, hesitant, exploring handshake is an instant disqualification in the world of men.
So I grabbed his already swollen penis and immediately, without swaying, began to jerk off.
"Ew, what are you doing, stop…"
"Don't you like it, Kid?"
"Oooh… ahh…"
Talking when you are accelerated from zero to orgasm in ten seconds is almost impossible.
It is important to blow his head off so that he completely loses control.
My pen worked harder and harder, controlling his orgasm completely. I could feel the trunk stiffen. And that he's only moments away from splattering the entire changing room with his cum.
But it's still early.
"Just don't come so fast -" I patted his testicles, " You're not a quick shot, are you?"
Then I looked sternly at the man, who was already rolling his eyes and breathing heavily.
"Or did it happen?"
You can always tell by the way its appendage tensed and throbbed. And this happened to every guy. I squeezed his dignity even tighter.
– Byvaaaalo… Don't worry. It's okay, "I said, stroking his voice," but we're not getting our pants dirty right now." Is everything clear?" Don't Get Dirty!
I took my hand out of his underwear and walked casually on my heels in front of him. The kid ran after me like a tethered dog. I even stopped looking around. I can feel his loyalty on my back.
I was calmly picking out dresses, and my hand-held ATM was nearby.
– Hello, can you sit down? The boutique employee asked helpfully.
"He'll stand," I answered sternly for him, and continued flipping through the summer dresses on the coat rack.
It's hard to say I wasn't aroused by his complaisance. At the same time, I wanted to humiliate him even more.
But I just fluttered my eyelashes and pretended to be a "girl-girl".
I groped for a pair of dresses that matched the texture of the fabric as much as possible. I love when the softness of the surface is combined with the dullness of my skin. On the shoulders. On the hips. Around the waist. It's so nice to wear dresses in the summer, enjoying the warm evenings and light wind.
I knew that my" driver " with a boner was only thinking about finishing what he had started.
But now I wasn't even looking at him. No eye contact. No attention paid. Talking to salespeople as if I were the only one here.
He must wait. And it should be in a powerful information deficit.
I stepped into the booth and took off my clothes. All the gold mirrors around me reflected a plump, big-boobed lady who likes to lead men around. In beautiful tight underwear.
Standing in the middle of Moscow in nothing but underwear and stilettos was already a pleasant pleasure, and knowing that a strange man was about to open his purse and pay for a chic dress with a three – digit price tag-turned me on even more.
I even squeezed my nipples through the foam of my bra.
Putting on my expensive clothes, I turned around in front of the mirrors.
The dress wasn't tight anywhere, so I called out to him.
"Little one, help me choose."
Schmuck obediently went into the locker room to the smiles of the consultants.
"Do you like this dress?"
I twisted and turned in front of him, exposing my curves and curves to his sweaty gaze.
"Yes…" he swallowed, " Very…"
"Then… get your baby out…"
His eyes widened again.
"Uh-uh … maybe…"
"Why are you moaning like a whore?" Get it out, I said! – any attempts at bargaining should be nipped in the bud.
The man obediently took out his penis and held it in his hand.
"Come on, come on! I even indicated with my hand exactly what movements I expected him to make.
