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Old history, but in memory costs still. Sharply. I was a seventeen-year-old silly little chap, studied on the 1st course. I had a little girl, the classmate. We trained with her on seven times in the course of the day where it is only possible and it is impossible. I Raskochegaritsya on full, and here she goes on summer vacation to the native foothills of the northern Caucasian ridge. There were I one in sad contemplation of the unclaimed opportunities. The dream lost and if slept, then nightmares like above-mentioned in the previous post dreamed. I was pleasant to women, I know. And what? The nature didn't offend me, those years I already in masters played in Leningrad "Petrel" (class "A") the forward, volleyball. And here on the street to approach a female it wasn't trained. Words stuck in a drink, and except something similar to a mu-ma wasn't squeezed out. Friends sympathetically suggested to represent the deaf-and-dumb cripple and to get the breast poster of this contents (not a secret, women are greedy for disabled people), but it didn't keep within my early ethical representations. Institute maids frankly made advances to me, but I was afraid of provocations. I valued the girlfriend, then as a result we got married. Not about it now. With a dream I could lose also the place in team, boiled x-r you will play. Also I went to the nervous doctor for treatment. I sit in turn, some grannies around, there is nobody look to stop. Awkwardly. From them, white dandelions that you will take, and I, a seventeen-year-old stallion, already here you are, as well as they, the loony. Though run. Heavily. Here a door it is noisy swings open, and from there... Mamma mia! This exclusive! No, Sophia Loren to her it is far. That on the screen, and this is here, alive, at hand distance. The same slanting almond-shaped-gray eyes and a narrow nose with an easy small hump, the same black and red hair. Everything was close on this superstar. The blouse refused to contain overripe melons of boobies at all, brown окружья nipples bugritsya carnivorously through transparent fabric. Skirt... it was ready to burst in itself and without my look. I stiffened, not in forces to take away a look and to extinguish the captured fire. She threw to the doctor some last angry words, indifferent fastidiously took a view of turn and lingered for a moment on me. I lost breath. I caught a shadow of the encouraging smile (can't be! it seemed? well, definitely!), and she already hasty went ran to a ladder on an exit more likely. As on her shoulders multi-colored curls as the narrow panties which are frankly pushing out a body through fine fabric were close on her wonderfully shook. Yes unless there is such linen entirely to keep in itself these curves which are hard poured under matter which is vainly guarding them? I was drenched by the wind which is given to drink some unprecedented, with the spirits which aren't invented yet, the spring birch wood, and I, without submitting to more reason, got up. I looked after her quickly removed narrow back, amazingly slender waist, fine-molded calves on one of which the small darling speck became blue. Without giving the report, I moved following. I forgot about turn. I went, having bent down the head, and greedy snyukhivat in a corridor a loop of her smell as a contemptible dog for the bitch captured by a techka, without representing at all and without thinking, what will be farther. She was behind some, I didn't manage to notice, a door, and I in confusion stopped. I looked back. Old women derisively watched me. And some shrillly I shouted that I am called. Oh, as I envied this sickly pimply boy neuropathologist whose hands still exhaled her magic fluids. And this type, undoubtedly, the recent mediocre pupil, directs me to the procedure under the name "circular shower". I won't tire the reader with the description of this installation of tortures, I hope, it is known to all, I will tell only that I had to her feeling deep disgust. Not only that to me every time was necessary to pull out from under a bottom of this moonshine still a wooden support for Liliputians, and the piece of wood didn't give in without a fight, so the medical lady of a retirement age in a white dressing gown with irritation instructed, and I stood the back to her in an immodest pose, hopelessly trying to execute him. Then by a help and station voice she published teams it seems: "Be not covered with the patient, not a bath here, and I am a medic. Be not motionless, turn... "and something is farther about active points. She would know that by that period all of them pathologically fell down a stomach and what it is fraught with. Fortunately, the old woman's hails, like blows of a scourge, cooled the flesh trying to rebel. Besides the close waiting room at an entrance was the general with women, and it was nearly the most burdensome test. I there never met men, and these wrinkled ladies examined me in an emphasis, nearly in a lorgnette without any visible constraint as rare on a floor and years of a copy from a kind of homo sapiens and isn't present, it is rather as a certain fossil reptile. Sometimes I heard: "Look at him, such very young, absolutely the boy, and already... what is it created now where we slide? Ah-I - яй... "Then the waiting room forked, and I who is mentally facilitated alone sat in the men's bunker waiting for a signal on an entrance. It was necessary to enter naked. The table of the old woman was located sideways opposite to a door, and from it the rubber path stretched to the above-mentioned car of tortures on the left. Thank God, it was my last procedure. The old woman put out the head from doors and shrillly shouted: "Men still are? For you not to borrow!" And here long-awaited fanfares of the final — a call on an entrance were distributed. I pushed a door and stepped over a damp threshold. Only having heard the old woman's hail: "The patient, I didn't call you!", I raised eyes and saw... The nude woman stood a back to me in only a few steps. That is, absolutely naked. Besides, she unsuccessfully tried to perform the ungrateful work intended to me — to take that damned support from under rusty iron. Her body was bent to a floor, boobies shuddered from unsuccessful breakthroughs. An arch of electric welding blinded moist buttocks with a narrow triangle untouched the sun skin, traces of red, accurately cut small beard between them, and to cover that place which was appointed by her, and below, fine-molded calves, a familiar darling speck. I blinked, and further as in fog. The woman turned back. She with astonishment looked not me from below, gasped, was unbent, and quickly walked, yes, towards, and where to her was to go as not on an exit. She pressed tops of boobies which marble flesh foully exuded through thin thumbs up with well-cared nails, and I without representing what to do, where to get to, hardened, having closed palms the pathetic body wrinkled with shame, and couldn't have eyes glued on her body. She went on a narrow rubber path to doors, without raising eyes, her nostrils were inflated, and in meter from me she said directly such angry scathing look that I already insignificant, felt the complete scoundrel and in great confusion receded on a cold tile of a floor. Oh, this smell! By incredible effort I held myself not to look back. And here on a back I lashed the old woman's hail: "Where you to the pryota, sick, I didn't call you. But time got, don't stand as the idol, pass on the procedure!" Having shrunk and continuing to cover shame, I got up under hot streams. On a support which she didn't manage to take out. Now my heels cover prints of her feet, streams hit into her most active points, and they at me with a circle. I closed eyes, caught magic fluids... delusion, a body her row, I see him in that pose recorded by a look clearly. From a distance through a veil of water and whistle of nozzles I hear habitual teams: "The patient, turn! Take away hands! Don't close active zones how many to you to go on same! Here without banning! Eventually, I am a medic!" These phrases suddenly are wrapped in other, izvrashchyonno-lewd sense. Perfectly, you are the medic, I — psikhbolny. With such there is no demand, don't judge too severely, old, if something is wrong. I was completely given to feelings. I clearly saw before myself huge buttocks, a gleam between hips, and there... hot target. Streams meanwhile crashed into sides, a stomach, a groin. There were no forces and desire to evade. Sweet waves rose up, the dick swelled and was extended to impropriety. I took away a hand as the old woman demanded. I turned as she wished that. It is interesting if to pull together a dressing gown from this hag and to put on a stool. Here so she would appear before me in black lacy garters with an exacting and playful look and the moved apart thirsty entrance. I ceased to restrain, I didn't even try to take cover from streams, opposite. I was set up under their itching drills, I in drowsiness didn't feel shame. Slowly inflaming fire, at last, breakthrough captured a stomach bottom. I knew, than all this will end, but became me all the same, be that will be. Skin became covered by goosebumps, spasms harbingers fought below, terribly warning about an outcome. It wasn't necessary to dominate forces over a dam. Suddenly streams weakened and disappeared. I heard from there, from the parallel world: "The patient, take away a procedural leaf". I regained consciousness. Yes, it was he, the old woman's voice squeezed unusually deaf. She sat in a chair, having low inclined the head, and something was drawn on paper by Me hardly as after a leaden sleep, I went to her. Thank God, she didn't raise eyes: the stiffened dick poured to ugly forms was shaken in the parties and, urged on by convulsions, jumped up on the run. I dared to it to touch, cover not to cause a disaster. I gave a hand to a heap of leaves on the edge of a table. Disobedient fingers pushed away the necessary reference, I reached for it and involuntarily leaned against a back of her chair. And further... The old woman sharply turned and, having published hoarse "O-O", her palm clung a cheek to my stomach, and... I saw from outside all wildness of the events, the shame and fear of the casual witness captured me. I felt as the last pervert, almost skotolozhtsy, and couldn't, not in forces was to resist. I lost control over myself, and with it, perhaps, and human shape. A leg I roughly raspikhnut her dried-out knees, it, snuffling and readily moved, having moved down on edge of sitting. The fist rested in is wet the fidgeting pubis. I hasty jerked the starched dressing gown lapel, under him for some reason there was almost no linen, squeezed a huge breast in violet streaks. And further here for this badly colored gray hair... a forehead in a table... it is rather... I wasn't in time. A painful and sweet pause when you freeze and nothing is subject, held down dead hoops of a muscle, the burning itching wave swept from below on a stomach to shoulders, captured all body, the dam failed, and the released stream, sodrogy a body, heavy pushes rushed outside. I tried to be discharged, but she, having shaken the head, exactingly held me, and it gurgled already somewhere there, in the depth of her gullet. Her nose almost rested to me against a stomach, and I — what I? I saw nothing around, only a wire of hair in the clamped fists and from below deaf low: "O-ooo" Long ago it was, but I remember in details still. I very much was afraid to meet her then in policlinic. Ridiculously, isn't it? Author's E-mail: email@example.com tinder gender ratio by country date vs hangout site mapMain Page