The night was deepening. To heighten his spirits, Joe tried to imagine distant tomorrow in a rosy light. So, on a sunny morning, chirping like a tender jay, his savior appears pushing a cleaning lady's cart. Let's suppose the housekeeper is a sultry woman in her thirties with an incredibly ugly face, but with a very beautiful body, it's ok, it's even somewhat piquant. But at least his hands are now untied in the literal and figurative sense. He and she fall into each other's arms!.. After which he, without hesitation, rushes off in search of the thief. (To squeeze her neck or even strangle the bitch).
Then voices were heard in the corridor. Someone stopped in front of the door. There was the sound of a key being turned in the lock.
“Thank you very much, how kind of you,” said someone with such familiar sly intonations.
“Is he in there?” a lazy male voice asked. The light came on.
“Well, I am telling you, I chained my boyfriend - at his request, of course - to the bed and left to buy err ... condoms.” (She giggles, bitch). “And there also happened a whole story in the pharmacy, some crazy guy could not pay off for the purchase and kept telling cashier that he had to run home to get some last-minute discount coupons for something there... until, finally, I bought what I needed.” And she seemed to have thrown the backpack off her shoulders and, after rummaging, giggled again, “Here is that very thing. I recommend!”
The man grunted, walked over to the bed and, snuffling, started examining the prisoner. Joe turned away. The bumpkin coughed and said that he was a concierge, said he came urgently to help. Joe somehow managed to say that it was, you know, very nice to meet you, after all. He was about to add a few words about this slut, but she, anticipating, yelled, “Thank you, sir, infinitely grateful.”
Joe heard the rustle of a bill thrust into the man's hand. The concierge, clearing his throat once more, suddenly said clearly and meaningfully, “Contact us again, if anything.”
Things were taking a strange, unforeseen turn.
Closing the door behind the savior, Ashley rushed to the bed, staring at the crucified Joe with a look full of wistful remorse. He rolled his eyes, refusing to understand what was happening, said, “Fuck you...”
She, biting her lips, barely holding back tears, with convulsive movements began to undress, scattering the items around the room. The bra, producing a whimsical arc, slapped his cheek. She pulled off her panties. And she fell to her knees. He, entangled in chains, had to twist his neck to confess a naked sinner. She whispered, “I will do whatever you order to hush up the misunderstanding that has arisen between us,” and she discharged hot breath of her lips on his hand.
Joe lifted his limbs from the bed, clinking with iron.
“I’ll do it right away, in a flash,” and she rummages in her backpack, then says, “Did I really tossed all of them?!”
He rolls his eyes again. (Actress. I see. I should have spoken with that dolt one on one).
“Ha-ha, one key was accidentally saved," and she rushed to open the locks, “I was so angry at you first. You didn't let me enjoy the victory, sarcastic villain. If I had a gun, I would have shoot you, vile hottie! I was throwing those keys into the sky on the run to the subway. And there I got into the last car and began gently caressing myself to reach orgasm and, imagine, I could not. You have deprived me of such a high!” she squealed.
Joe was silently warming up his numb hands.
“But then, then... I imagined you here alone, powerless by my evil will. Your hair is scattered, dark eyes are burning with hatred. You're crying and cursing me. Your dear naughty boy is crushed by grief,” she said and zealously kissed twice the sleepy naughty boy.
“Besides, you intolerably want to piss. Unhappy, angry, soaking wet,” here she made large, almost all-embracing eyes, “You fall asleep with a dream of revenge. In the morning some slut shows up, the naughty boy greets her with playful courtesy. The lustful whore, of course, begins to flirt - well, how not to caress such a cutie! - and then she jumps on you, I mean, jumps on top of him, and she is carried away, carried away at full speed into distant spaces. And I, a fool, stand in the clouds of dust and watch you guys leaving. I caress myself, unable to stop, and I, and I,” a terrible grimace twisted her beautiful face, “Cannot cum!”
(Gee, just imagine how she is sobbing. One should be able to perform like that).
He got up, shook himself clean. (I need to dress. Sheets or bed stinks. By the way, I need to buy a suit. And several ties, shirts). Joe was thinking about how important it is to be free, especially for a man. He collected the handcuffs and threw them under the bed. Yes, here it is, the briefcase, and it also goes under the bed. This prostitute was still sobbing, hugging the pillow and sticking out her vicious ass. (What a beautiful crotch she has, that is leaking a subtle substance of temptation. And all this charm was embedded into a dirty whore. Well, isn't it a mockery of nature? How many kind, intelligent, most importantly - decent! - women are deprived of even the semblance of such charm. Why?! Just because all the best in this life goes to the beasts, and it goes not otherwise than from the devil).
Suddenly she recovered, asked, “Honey, what are you thinking about?”
(Where did the tears go. Instantly dried up on a hot slut).
Joe answered, “I'm not your honey. And I'm thinking about things that absolutely do not concern you.”
“Okay, Joe,” she said, and he suddenly winced from his own name in her mouth, “And what are we going to do next?”
She got out of the bed and went to him, licking her plump red lips. He backed away awkwardly, his foot touched something, and he turned that way. Inside the cage, Mr. Gator rested like a shabby bum, his legs with curved claws raised, the head cocked to one side.
“Croc!” Joe whispered, his hands and lips quivering.
She saw a parrot and chuckled. Though, glancing at Joe, she stopped, froze. Her breasts and nipples were still quivering disobediently, a snake smile was melting on the lips.
“I am sorry for little crocodile,” she said, however, sighing picturesquely and putting her hand on her hip.
Joe was looking carefully and sadly at his winged pet.
(Now you have a charming naked succuba with you. That's what you wanted, right? And Croc, it turns out, died for you, for your freedom, maybe even for your life. He sacrificed his small, but, nevertheless, only life. Miserable sorrowful deceased bird). Joe saw the Croc differently now, he was amazed to see the parrot - such an unfamiliar, unknown one - in a completely different light. (A forced martyr. A sacred sacrifice. Okay, that's enough, no more!) Joe went to the bathroom, came back with a towel, covered the cage. Determination seized him. The thief, slightly lowering her left shoulder, glared with hidden fear. Joe walked from the bed to the table. Again, and again. Then he stopped and shouted into that now needless pretty face, “Get out, get dressed and leave!”
“Baby, what are you? It’s one o'clock in the morning.”
“Does not matter, even if it's two, three, or four. Get out while I'm kind, until I kicked you out of here naked.”
Her legs gave way, she fell to her knees, raising the eyes full of tears, repeated with parched lips, “I will do whatever you order to hush up the misunderstanding that has arisen between us.”
(Ha-ha. Not funny, though. Then it was, now it's not. And in general, time is so fleeting. Everything instantly changes meanings and / or acquires new ones).
He angrily said, “There was no misunderstanding, you clockwork fool. You just robbed me. This is not a misunderstanding, but in general a mere trifle, a completely common phenomenon.”
“I ... didn't want to, why are you doing that,” she said, trembling as if suddenly felt cold, and got covered with goose bumps. She crawled to him on her knees, “After all, I returned everything. And didn't even open that briefcase with snakes.”
(There is nothing you can return and undo, what a nonsense. However, you cried out your forgiveness. Or maybe I still should whip the shameless she-demon in a proper way?)
"Okay, our brief BDSM session is over. Show your athletic skills. Can you do a headstand?"
"You want me to stand on my head? Oh, that's easy. By the wall," she said as she flew up to the wall, bent down, ready to change the balance, all of her pussy gave him a guilty smile.
"Wait! Who's doing like this? Put your backpack on. How can you do a headstand without the backpack, you fool."
So, she quickly put it on and stood on her head.
"Did you place the handcuffs inside there?" asked he.
“No, and what for?”
"What for? For you, of course, they mean nothing, but I care. After all, I was in them, not you."
She fell to the floor, ran around the room. Then she fished out the handcuffs from under the bed, put them in the backpack, shouted, "Darling, have we forgotten anything? Is that all, may I already do a headstand?"
He smiled, said, "Go ahead.
The headstand suited her very well. Slender legs flew skyward.
“Spread... your legs slightly,” he wispered.
The perineum with lush labia has opened. The labia were shining, framing the vagina like petals. The bud of the clitoris hatched joyfully as if an early flower in spring.
(Yeah, that's what. It would not hurt to smooth the petals a little). And he went, washed his hands (Business must be done with clean hands), and smoothed them out, admiring.
She moaned, “Such gentle fingers. You did exactly what I wanted - smoothed the petals for me.”
(What a devilishly pretty woman. Although, the hell with her). Nevertheless, he was looking, delighted, at this monstrous beauty, said, “Okay, that's enough. To the ground.”
“And I could still stand like that at least half an hour, - the sportswoman reported, smiling triumphantly.”
“Get dressed then,” Joe said.
She gave a strange look in reply. (Surprised? Pleading?) And she put on a T-shirt and walked in circles like a cat, flashing green eyes.
“Well, then put the rest of your clothes in your backpack so that they don't lie around here. We'll arrange a neat halt by a stream. Maybe we'll even set up a camp on rocks.” (Let her have a certain freedom of action. But at the same time, you can't allow her to become disobedient).
Actually, it was already bedtime. “So, the time is late. To bed!” he commanded and turned off the light, lay down.
Ashley, purring, crawled under the blanket, snuggled up. Nude. Again.
“Why did you take off your T-shirt?” he asked angrily.
“Bunny, remember once and for all, I don't like sleeping in T-shirts,” she caressed to Joe with her naked body, "And in general, I put on some clothes only when absolutely necessary."
“You mean, when you go to work?”
“Go to work?”
“Well, when you go out hunting to gut someone.”
“Oh, don't say nasty things,” she pleaded, twitching her legs.
“What nasty things? It's a naked, like you, truth. How long have you been leading this way of life?”
“I lead such a lifestyle,” she drove along his torso with a trembling finger, “Insanely long time ago.”
“And how long will this madness continue?”
“Grrr,” she slid that hot finger along his responsive shaft, “I don't know.”
(She didn't even say like that's it, it's time to end this. Just imagine this?!)
“But you understand that you commit theft?” he whispered thoughtfully at the ceiling, throwing his hands behind his head; Ashley was trembling.
“You probably realize that you steal — ingeniously, really, but — just steal from men?!”
Punita was shaking. She fidgeted, caressing and kissing Joe, and she contrived and finally got onto his penis. She was muttering some heresy, “Oh, how cute he is. I fell in love with him from afar,” lowering herself on the cock, and then started moaning, closing and opening her eyes.
While Joe was just trying to receive an answer to the simplest question, how long can this go on?
“What?.. I don’t know, I don’t know,” Yalini muttered, and then, shuddering all over, she shouted something like, “Let this last forever!”4. Headstand
The night was deepening. To heighten his spirits, Joe tried to imagine distant tomorrow in a rosy light. So, on a sunny morning, chirping like a tender jay, his savior appears pushing a cleaning lady's cart. Let's suppose the housekeeper is a sultry woman in her thirties with an incredibly ugly face, but with a very beautiful body, it's ok, it's even somewhat piquant. But at least his hands are now untied in the literal and figurative sense. He and she fall into each other's arms!.. After which he, without hesitation, rushes off in search of the thief. (To squeeze her neck or even strangle the bitch).
Then voices were heard in the corridor. Someone stopped in front of the door. There was the sound of a key being turned in the lock.
“Thank you very much, how kind of you,” said someone with such familiar sly intonations.
“Is he in there?” a lazy male voice asked. The light came on.
“Well, I am telling you, I chained my boyfriend - at his request, of course - to the bed and left to buy err ... condoms.” (She giggles, bitch). “And there also happened a whole story in the pharmacy, some crazy guy could not pay off for the purchase and kept telling cashier that he had to run home to get some last-minute discount coupons for something there... until, finally, I bought what I needed.” And she seemed to have thrown the backpack off her shoulders and, after rummaging, giggled again, “Here is that very thing. I recommend!”
The man grunted, walked over to the bed and, snuffling, started examining the prisoner. Joe turned away. The bumpkin coughed and said that he was a concierge, said he came urgently to help. Joe somehow managed to say that it was, you know, very nice to meet you, after all. He was about to add a few words about this slut, but she, anticipating, yelled, “Thank you, sir, infinitely grateful.”
Joe heard the rustle of a bill thrust into the man's hand. The concierge, clearing his throat once more, suddenly said clearly and meaningfully, “Contact us again, if anything.”
Things were taking a strange, unforeseen turn.
Closing the door behind the savior, Ashley rushed to the bed, staring at the crucified Joe with a look full of wistful remorse. He rolled his eyes, refusing to understand what was happening, said, “Fuck you...”
She, biting her lips, barely holding back tears, with convulsive movements began to undress, scattering the items around the room. The bra, producing a whimsical arc, slapped his cheek. She pulled off her panties. And she fell to her knees. He, entangled in chains, had to twist his neck to confess a naked sinner. She whispered, “I will do whatever you order to hush up the misunderstanding that has arisen between us,” and she discharged hot breath of her lips on his hand.
Joe lifted his limbs from the bed, clinking with iron.
“I’ll do it right away, in a flash,” and she rummages in her backpack, then says, “Did I really tossed all of them?!”
He rolls his eyes again. (Actress. I see. I should have spoken with that dolt one on one).
“Ha-ha, one key was accidentally saved," and she rushed to open the locks, “I was so angry at you first. You didn't let me enjoy the victory, sarcastic villain. If I had a gun, I would have shoot you, vile hottie! I was throwing those keys into the sky on the run to the subway. And there I got into the last car and began gently caressing myself to reach orgasm and, imagine, I could not. You have deprived me of such a high!” she squealed.
Joe was silently warming up his numb hands.
“But then, then... I imagined you here alone, powerless by my evil will. Your hair is scattered, dark eyes are burning with hatred. You're crying and cursing me. Your dear naughty boy is crushed by grief,” she said and zealously kissed twice the sleepy naughty boy.
“Besides, you intolerably want to piss. Unhappy, angry, soaking wet,” here she made large, almost all-embracing eyes, “You fall asleep with a dream of revenge. In the morning some slut shows up, the naughty boy greets her with playful courtesy. The lustful whore, of course, begins to flirt - well, how not to caress such a cutie! - and then she jumps on you, I mean, jumps on top of him, and she is carried away, carried away at full speed into distant spaces. And I, a fool, stand in the clouds of dust and watch you guys leaving. I caress myself, unable to stop, and I, and I,” a terrible grimace twisted her beautiful face, “Cannot cum!”
(Gee, just imagine how she is sobbing. One should be able to perform like that).
He got up, shook himself clean. (I need to dress. Sheets or bed stinks. By the way, I need to buy a suit. And several ties, shirts). Joe was thinking about how important it is to be free, especially for a man. He collected the handcuffs and threw them under the bed. Yes, here it is, the briefcase, and it also goes under the bed. This prostitute was still sobbing, hugging the pillow and sticking out her vicious ass. (What a beautiful crotch she has, that is leaking a subtle substance of temptation. And all this charm was embedded into a dirty whore. Well, isn't it a mockery of nature? How many kind, intelligent, most importantly - decent! - women are deprived of even the semblance of such charm. Why?! Just because all the best in this life goes to the beasts, and it goes not otherwise than from the devil).
Suddenly she recovered, asked, “Honey, what are you thinking about?”
(Where did the tears go. Instantly dried up on a hot slut).
Joe answered, “I'm not your honey. And I'm thinking about things that absolutely do not concern you.”
“Okay, Joe,” she said, and he suddenly winced from his own name in her mouth, “And what are we going to do next?”
She got out of the bed and went to him, licking her plump red lips. He backed away awkwardly, his foot touched something, and he turned that way. Inside the cage, Mr. Gator rested like a shabby bum, his legs with curved claws raised, the head cocked to one side.
“Croc!” Joe whispered, his hands and lips quivering.
She saw a parrot and chuckled. Though, glancing at Joe, she stopped, froze. Her breasts and nipples were still quivering disobediently, a snake smile was melting on the lips.
“I am sorry for little crocodile,” she said, however, sighing picturesquely and putting her hand on her hip.
Joe was looking carefully and sadly at his winged pet.
(Now you have a charming naked succuba with you. That's what you wanted, right? And Croc, it turns out, died for you, for your freedom, maybe even for your life. He sacrificed his small, but, nevertheless, only life. Miserable sorrowful deceased bird). Joe saw the Croc differently now, he was amazed to see the parrot - such an unfamiliar, unknown one - in a completely different light. (A forced martyr. A sacred sacrifice. Okay, that's enough, no more!) Joe went to the bathroom, came back with a towel, covered the cage. Determination seized him. The thief, slightly lowering her left shoulder, glared with hidden fear. Joe walked from the bed to the table. Again, and again. Then he stopped and shouted into that now needless pretty face, “Get out, get dressed and leave!”
“Baby, what are you? It’s one o'clock in the morning.”
“Does not matter, even if it's two, three, or four. Get out while I'm kind, until I kicked you out of here naked.”
Her legs gave way, she fell to her knees, raising the eyes full of tears, repeated with parched lips, “I will do whatever you order to hush up the misunderstanding that has arisen between us.”
(Ha-ha. Not funny, though. Then it was, now it's not. And in general, time is so fleeting. Everything instantly changes meanings and / or acquires new ones).
He angrily said, “There was no misunderstanding, you clockwork fool. You just robbed me. This is not a misunderstanding, but in general a mere trifle, a completely common phenomenon.”
“I ... didn't want to, why are you doing that,” she said, trembling as if suddenly felt cold, and got covered with goose bumps. She crawled to him on her knees, “After all, I returned everything. And didn't even open that briefcase with snakes.”
(There is nothing you can return and undo, what a nonsense. However, you cried out your forgiveness. Or maybe I still should whip the shameless she-demon in a proper way?)
"Okay, our brief BDSM session is over. Show your athletic skills. Can you do a headstand?"
"You want me to stand on my head? Oh, that's easy. By the wall," she said as she flew up to the wall, bent down, ready to change the balance, all of her pussy gave him a guilty smile.
"Wait! Who's doing like this? Put your backpack on. How can you do a headstand without the backpack, you fool."
So, she quickly put it on and stood on her head.
"Did you place the handcuffs inside there?" asked he.
“No, and what for?”
"What for? For you, of course, they mean nothing, but I care. After all, I was in them, not you."
She fell to the floor, ran around the room. Then she fished out the handcuffs from under the bed, put them in the backpack, shouted, "Darling, have we forgotten anything? Is that all, may I already do a headstand?"
He smiled, said, "Go ahead.
The headstand suited her very well. Slender legs flew skyward.
“Spread... your legs slightly,” he wispered.
The perineum with lush labia has opened. The labia were shining, framing the vagina like petals. The bud of the clitoris hatched joyfully as if an early flower in spring.
(Yeah, that's what. It would not hurt to smooth the petals a little). And he went, washed his hands (Business must be done with clean hands), and smoothed them out, admiring.
She moaned, “Such gentle fingers. You did exactly what I wanted - smoothed the petals for me.”
(What a devilishly pretty woman. Although, the hell with her). Nevertheless, he was looking, delighted, at this monstrous beauty, said, “Okay, that's enough. To the ground.”
“And I could still stand like that at least half an hour, - the sportswoman reported, smiling triumphantly.”
“Get dressed then,” Joe said.
She gave a strange look in reply. (Surprised? Pleading?) And she put on a T-shirt and walked in circles like a cat, flashing green eyes.
“Well, then put the rest of your clothes in your backpack so that they don't lie around here. We'll arrange a neat halt by a stream. Maybe we'll even set up a camp on rocks.” (Let her have a certain freedom of action. But at the same time, you can't allow her to become disobedient).
Actually, it was already bedtime. “So, the time is late. To bed!” he commanded and turned off the light, lay down.
Ashley, purring, crawled under the blanket, snuggled up. Nude. Again.
“Why did you take off your T-shirt?” he asked angrily.
“Bunny, remember once and for all, I don't like sleeping in T-shirts,” she caressed to Joe with her naked body, "And in general, I put on some clothes only when absolutely necessary."
“You mean, when you go to work?”
“Go to work?”
“Well, when you go out hunting to gut someone.”
“Oh, don't say nasty things,” she pleaded, twitching her legs.
“What nasty things? It's a naked, like you, truth. How long have you been leading this way of life?”
“I lead such a lifestyle,” she drove along his torso with a trembling finger, “Insanely long time ago.”
“And how long will this madness continue?”
“Grrr,” she slid that hot finger along his responsive shaft, “I don't know.”
(She didn't even say like that's it, it's time to end this. Just imagine this?!)
“But you understand that you commit theft?” he whispered thoughtfully at the ceiling, throwing his hands behind his head; Ashley was trembling.
“You probably realize that you steal — ingeniously, really, but — just steal from men?!”
Punita was shaking. She fidgeted, caressing and kissing Joe, and she contrived and finally got onto his penis. She was muttering some heresy, “Oh, how cute he is. I fell in love with him from afar,” lowering herself on the cock, and then started moaning, closing and opening her eyes.
While Joe was just trying to receive an answer to the simplest question, how long can this go on?
“What?.. I don’t know, I don’t know,” Yalini muttered, and then, shuddering all over, she shouted something like, “Let this last forever!”