Oh, summer
diman0304
Oh, summer.
The summer was damn hot, and Roman decided to spend it at the dacha. The city was too noisy, dirty, and hectic, and he absolutely had to write a novel. Now, in the summer, he cursed himself for making that stupid promise to the publisher to write a novel, or at least a cycle of stories, about summer and summer love. Right now, Roman just wanted to relax, not fill his head with romantic nonsense. And suddenly he remembered the dacha he had inherited, abandoned but not yet sold.
And so, on a June day, packing a suitcase of essentials, Roman set off for a creative retreat, in search of inspiration. But upon arriving
at the place, he suddenly realized it wouldn't come right away. The dacha was neglected, and he needed to put the house and the surrounding area in order. He managed all of that only after a week. He tidied up the house, mowed the overgrown grass—after all, he wasn't planning to plant anything.While working, Roman caught a glimpse of a young girl reading on the neighboring plot. A rather pretty, petite brunette, about 18-19 years old. She had her legs tucked up and was reading something intently, paying no attention to anyone. She was dressed for summer in short shorts and a small, light-colored tank top, her hair tied in a small ponytail. She was pleasant to look at, but Roman didn't dare disturb her and went about his business. When, a few days later, everything was done, he tried to write, but the thoughts wouldn't come. The house was stuffy, outside the sun was scorching, and under the tree in the hammock, he quickly felt sleepy.
He spent several days like that. During those days, he saw her a few times, and when he went to the river to swim, he met her face to face. And she even smiled at him. But he still didn't dare to get acquainted. A week passed, Roman had written only a few lines, and wasn't doing much else, just swimming and lounging in the hammock under the old apple tree. But one afternoon, everything changed.
He was in the house, writing down thoughts that had come to him when he was last at the river.
There was a knock at the door.
— Yes, yes, come in, it's open.
That same brunette timidly entered the room, looking around at the Spartan furnishings and the writer's torment. She looked to be about 27.
— Hello, my name is Ira, and you're a writer, right? I heard that from my parents.
— Yes, Roman Sergeyevich, an aspiring writer. Hello.
— And what are you writing about, if it's not a secret?
— About love, here, read it if you want. Roman said timidly, handing the girl a small book. After all, his stories were full of intimate scenes.
— I'll read it today. she said, smiling
.
Today she was wearing a rather short sundress; it was clear there was probably nothing underneath, as her nipples were betrayingly erect. This made Roman's sexual organ tense up a bit.
— I saw you reading in the garden, Ira.
— How observant you are, it's one of my favorite pastimes. She said, smiling again.
— I see you've just arrived and are alone, would you like to keep me company tonight? My parents are away for a week, and I'm very bored here.
— I'd be delighted, nothing's coming to mind anyway.
— Good, come over for tea at 8:00. Said Ira, leaving his little house, still smiling pleasantly.
Closer to the appointed time, Roman put on a clean short-sleeved shirt, picked three peonies, probably planted by his grandmother, and went to the neighboring plot. Ira met him; she was even more beautiful in a short, light skirt and a tank top, possibly the same one she wore when he saw her reading. He also now noticed a small piercing in her navel with a tiny green stone, matching the color of her eyes.
Entering the house, Roman noticed that everything was in perfect order, as if someone lived there year-round. The young people sat on a small sofa; the teapot and cups were already on a small table nearby, the gifted flowers were in a vase not far away.
— I read a bit of your story, you write beautifully, it's immediately clear you love women and good sex.
— Everyone loves good sex. He said, not missing a beat.
— You know, I'm not wearing any panties. The brunette suddenly said, looking straight into Roman's eyes.
— I assumed that. Roman replied, feeling his cock getting hard.
Ira suddenly stood up and took off her tank top; underneath was a beautiful chest, about a size 3, with pink nipples and large areolas.
— Take off your pants! She commanded authoritatively.
Roman obeyed and undressed completely, sitting on the sofa with his erect cock. Ira didn't take off her skirt; instead, putting a condom on his cock with her mouth, she sat on top of him and began slowly fucking the guy, looking straight into his eyes. Roman took her ass in his hands and began to help. Her pussy was tight, and he felt he might cum quickly. Laying the girl on her side, Roman lifted her leg up and positioned himself behind her, controlling all the movements. He didn't go fast, as she liked, slowly entering and exiting her tight little cave.
Roman stayed with her until morning. During that time, he gave her amazing cunnilingus, which made her cum once more. Usually, he didn't like that process, but her well-groomed pussy really turned him on. They kissed with her abundant lubrication on their faces. And it all ended with classic sex in the missionary position. Exhausted and satisfied, they didn't fall asleep for a long time, instead telling each other stories from their lives.
And the book that summer turned out to be unusually successful.
29.06.2014