Anal triangle. Part 2

  • And why did this Denisov start conversations with you again? He asked dully without taking his hands away from his eyes.
  • Are you starting again? – Masha irritably bit her plump lower lip.

Her friend said nothing, only tensely swollen nodules betrayed his excitement.

  • I’m just interested in the technique of his writing and nothing else!
  • If nothing else, why are you smiling at him like that?
  • How do I smile?
  • Okay, – said Vadim conciliatory. – Let’s not talk about it anymore, otherwise I behave like a stupid jealous person.

He rolled over onto his stomach again and began to carefully examine the reproduction. The painting depicted a couple: an elderly gentleman in an old-fashioned tailcoat and with a top hat on his head was sitting next to a young, very beautiful girl in a flowered chintz dress. In his right hand was a smoking cigar, with his left he tightly hugged the girl by the thin waist. They sat in a wicker sofa against the backdrop of a lake surrounded by high mountains.

Masha was absolutely right – the picture was drawn exactly like a photograph, and any layman at first glance would understand what the picture is about. The girl’s slightly narrowed eyes smiled slyly, as if saying: “Yes, now you are my master, but I am much younger and stronger than you. I miss your senile caresses, and this morning I gave myself to your chauffeur in the garden house. “

Along the very edge of the picture, the silhouette of a man with a chauffeur’s cap on his head was barely visible. Neither his eyes nor facial expression were visible, only the lacquered visor of his cap. But his shadow fell on the girl’s long, crossed legs, almost reaching the deep neckline that boldly exposed her strong tanned breasts.

The whole picture literally breathed erotic lust, openly exciting the viewer with complicity in the betrayal of a dissolute kept woman with the owner’s chauffeur.

Vadim sighed.

Denisov really drew great. He was especially successful in pencil drawings, both black and white and color. But why does she stick to him, although every time she says that she loves only him alone!

Vadim again felt a sharp prick of jealousy. He glanced sideways at Masha and saw that she was examining him from the side, frowning her thin blond eyebrows and pursing her pink lips.

  • Vadik, well, how much can I repeat, except you I have no one!

He pulled her head to him, kissed her half-parted lips. His tongue slid inside her hot mouth, collided with her tongue, entwined with it into a single whole.

“Mmm,” Masha groaned.

Vadim’s arms wrapped around her wasp waist, and his hands, huge, like claws, easily closed on her white back. Effortlessly lifting the slender girl by the waist, he put her on top of himself, face to face, continuing to kiss her passionately on the lips.

His knobby fingers slipped into the deep, soft cleft between her round, plump buttocks and found a half-open hole, still damp from their recent exercise. Vadim entered her sphincter with his index finger, feeling the sticky residue of his semen on the smooth walls of her rectum.

  • Maybe one more time? He asked, almost without removing his lips from hers.

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