Something about Rose

The phone ring caught Luchinsky in the kitchen. He picked up the receiver and heard a pleasant female voice. Judging by the accent, the voice belonged to an American woman. The foreigner politely inquired:

 — Hello, is this mister Luchinsky?..

 — Yes, I am…

 — My name's Sheila Rose…

The foreigner went on to say that she and her husband Gary had come to Moscow as tourists and that her acquaintance Sveta Pavlovskaya sent him her big and warm regards. And some presents that the teacher needed to pick up from them. Without much thought, Luchinsky invited the Rose couple to visit him. They gladly agreed.

… Sheila

Rose turned out to be an attractive, tanned woman around thirty-five with long dark hair. Luchinsky's eyes were immediately drawn to her luxurious, heavy breasts, high, sexy, probably a third or fourth cup size, then Andrey liked her full, beautifully shaped hips, and when Sheila turned her back, the teacher also appreciated her plump, rounded ass. Sheila was wearing blue denim shorts and a short white tank top with the inscription "Kiss me!" On her feet were white sneakers, on her forehead sunglasses. A white-toothed smile, laughing blue eyes. A woman who was a perfect ten! The American woman also gave Andrey's figure an appraising glance and seemed satisfied with what she saw. Her predatory gaze towards his crotch did not escape Andrey. There, under the light fabric of his trousers, his manhood was bulging. The teacher's cock stiffened even more.

"And by her behavior, she's a slut. Maybe I can manage to fuck her? What if…" The teacher smiled mysteriously; apparently, some plan had already formed in his head.

Mrs. Rose's husband—Gary, a tall blond with a small beard, was also dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. Cameras and mobile phones dangled on the Americans' chests, and small backpacks hung over their shoulders. Typical Yankees. Luchinsky invited the guests into the house. He collected the gifts and the letter from Pavlovskaya and seated them at a table laden with various dishes and alcoholic beverages. Andrey, looking with interest at the vivaciously laughing Mrs. Rose and following a pre-conceived plan, poured forty-proof vodka into the guests' shot glasses and proposed a toast to friendship between peoples, as well as to world peace.

 — Russian vodka? Fine! — Gary perked up and drank without wincing.

The expensive, high-quality, strong "luxury" class vodka went down easily, like water, but the alcohol content took its toll, and intoxication set in inevitably, like an avalanche.

 — Russian appetizers. Taste it, please, — the teacher treated his guests and poured more vodka.

Gary needed to be gotten drunk. This was the first part of the teacher's simple plan to possess Sheila's luxurious body.

Mrs. Rose drank little; she seemed to have already guessed the apartment owner's cunning intentions. Sheila kept throwing inviting glances at Luchinsky and impatiently crumpled the edge of the tablecloth. And Gary increasingly cast a bleary eye at the vodka and the "Mimosa" salad he had taken a liking to. Soon, swaying, Gary headed towards the toilet. He urgently needed to relieve himself, and Luchinsky and Mrs. Rose remained at the table, casting impatient glances at each other. They were clearly drawn to each other. They were gradually getting aroused, anticipating the further development of events.

 — What a beautiful sun-burnt skin, — Andrey placed his hand on her smooth knee and stroked it (he had to start somewhere). — It's a result of California sun activity?..

Sheila remained invitingly silent. Encouraged, the seducer moved his hand further. The shorts were short, so Luchinsky easily overcame the edges of the denim and cotton fabric. His bold finger found a warm, moist hollow amidst the fluffy hair and soft flesh and penetrated it fully. He made a few back-and-forth movements—Sheila quietly gasped. Her impatient hand landed on his thigh and unzipped his trousers with a zip. She extracted his cock from its cotton prison and began to knead it, getting even more aroused; it seemed she would soon come. But the toilet door slammed, and the disappointed conspirators abruptly pulled away from each other. Gary appeared. Luchinsky poured everyone more vodka, but only Gary drank; the conspirators skipped the next toast. The heat of arousal did not subside. Luchinsky went to the kitchen, telling the guests he would bring more vodka and make a couple of salads. Sheila offered to help him. As soon as the conspirators found themselves in the kitchen, they threw themselves into each other's arms. Sheila opened her large mouth wide and greedily sucked on his lips. It was as if an irresistible quagmire had swallowed them, but one so sweet and intoxicating that Luchinsky almost felt dizzy. His finger again slipped into the coveted crevice. The finger simply drowned in the slit, overflowing with abundant moisture. Sheila breathed noisily. She herself pulled down her shorts along with her panties, wet from discharge, leaned against the table, and turned her magnificent ass towards the teacher. The ass and perineum were tanned. In the middle of the perineum, framed by curly black hair, a red flower with a scarlet hole overflowed with love juices. It opened up to meet the huge crimson stinger, passionately desiring immediate pollination. Luchinsky did not need much persuasion and plunged his tormented, thirsty stinger into the blazing hole. Smack! The tool went in to its full length. Before the conspirators could enjoy the sweet moments of spontaneous sex, Gary's drunken voice came from the depths of the hall.

 — Sheila!… Come here!

 — Shit! Fuck! — Sheila, irritated, pulled away from Luchinsky and put on her panties and jeans. — When he will be drunk. Andre, bring him one more vodka.

 — Good, — agreed the frustrated Luchinsky and thrust into her hands a plate of pickles and a jar of pitted olives. — Wait a minute.

… Luchinsky appeared with a chilled bottle of vodka, sliced bacon, and an "Olivier" salad. Gary noticeably perked up.

 — Oh, Russian vodka! Excellent!

Andrey poured him vodka, then more, more, and more… As soon as the head of Gary, switched off from consciousness, fell with a thud onto the table, the conspirators, as if scalded, jumped up from the table and rushed into the hallway. The teacher, pulling off Mrs. Rose's tank top, with frenzy buried his lips in the juicy pink nipple of her watermelon-like breast; Sheila moaned, swooning with pleasure. Luchinsky began feverishly unzipping the shorts' zipper. The zipper got stuck; Luchinsky impatiently yanked it down—the zipper broke, but the shorts slid down her hips. Sheila shook her hips, and the shorts fell down; she swiftly pulled down her panties, stepped out of them, and finally freed herself from her underwear and shorts. She pulled his trousers and briefs down to his knees and, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, sucked his lips with her sugary mouth. He grabbed her behind the knees and, pressing her tightly against the wall, lifted Sheila by the hips upwards. The conspirators' genitals, blazing with passion, successfully docked. Bliss, pure bliss! A few minutes later they came simultaneously.