Provincial Girl

We pulled up to the building of a backwater southern airport at the same time. Me in a rental car, them in a beat-up 'three' (BMW 3 Series).

I return the car. I feel a watchful gaze on me. A girl is looking. With her is a guy. Pleasant, broad-shouldered, good-looking in moderation. But she's looking at me. The girl is hot, makes your mouth water. Tanned, curvy. A tight white dress. Slender legs, high heels give them perfect harmony and sex appeal. A striking, flashy appearance — a large mouth with red lipstick, huge eyes lined with wings, dark eyeshadow, black eyebrows. And when she turned around, holy moly! The back of the dress is made of a different fabric — practically gauze.

White panties and a bra are clearly visible. Just screamingly so — the girl's skin is brown, after all. I want to possess her right away. I'm wildly jealous of her boyfriend. Especially under the circumstances, having gone a week without sex.

Six hours until the flight. Why the hell did I check out of the hotel room? Saved a couple thousand, damn it. Now I'll be hanging around this hole like a dick in an ice hole.

I go to the cafe. At least there's a panel, some music channel, the atmosphere itself is cozy. No decent cognac, though. I get an espresso. It'll be drunk quickly, but I only like it — moderately strong, hot, and bittersweet. But I'll smoke for a long time. With feeling, with sense, with deliberation. Only after coffee. I can't stand the banality of "coffee with a cigarette." Only this way — coffee first, then a cigarette.

— May I sit down?

That same couple. I look around in surprise. There's no one else in the cafe besides me. All the tables are empty. Even the bartender has vanished somewhere. What, are they going to scam me now? Well, this could be interesting.

— Have a seat.

They hesitate, get embarrassed, act timid. Hmm... That's hard to fake. And if they are acting, what are con artists of that caliber doing in a provincial airport?

— Your flight isn't for another 6 hours, right?

The guy finally speaks up. Doesn't look me in the eye. The girl is also hypnotized by my cup.

— We're asking for your help. The thing is, we have the last payment for the house, 20 thousand. But we both lost our jobs a month ago. We recently came from Dagestan, refugees. No relatives, no friends here. Please help.

— Ugh. — I'm wildly disappointed. — No, kids...

— Wait, hear us out, — the girl perked up. Met my eyes and immediately looked away.

The guy:

— You can have my wife for all 6 hours.

He blurted it out as if he'd jumped headlong into icy water.

Aha, now that's interesting. So it is a scam? A setup? I openly size up the girl's charms with my eyes. It's allowed now.

— And where would I fuck her?

They both flinch as if struck. The guy turns pale, his lips even go blue. I start to worry he might faint. The girl looks at me, frightened. Horror in her widened eyes. So it's sinking in that this isn't a game or just talk. No, you can't fake that.

The guy is clearly not himself. He speaks rapidly:

— We thought at a hotel... Or at our place. I'll just take the child. We'll go to the plot. There's a little house there. You can call a taxi afterward. Give the money to my wife.

— What if I screw you over?

The girl looks at me stubbornly, defiantly. I love women with spirit.

— We're willing to take the risk.

— To what extent is she physically at my disposal? Can I beat her?

Open mouths, disbelief in their eyes. The girl comes to her senses first. She's simply furious, her narrowed eyes shooting daggers.

— Are you a maniac? You freak!

— A woman should be silent when men are discussing business.

I look at the guy, ignoring the girl. I just gave you your last chance, kids.

The guy also bares his teeth.

— Let's go, Natasha. He really is some kind of freak.

I mentally exhale. A nice couple, despite everything. Ah, why is this girl so damn hot? I'm insanely sorry that I turned them down after all.

— Wait, Seryozha.

Natasha put her hand on the arm of the guy who had jumped up. Contorting her lips contemptuously, she looked me hard in the eyes:

— If I don't have to go to the hospital, then I agree.

— No one's asking you, dear. What does Seryozha say?

The couple plays a staring game for a while. Sergey slumps and sits back down.

— I agree.

— Alright, you're free. Go get the child, we'll take a taxi. I want to discuss a couple of things with your wife. If I refuse, she'll call you. Before check-in, I'll withdraw the money from an ATM and give it to her. I don't want to see you anymore.

When the guy left, I looked at Natasha:

— And how will you live after this?

— Don't pry into my soul, you bastard! I feel sick without you.

The girl was shaking with anger. She was beautiful in her rage. A black lock fell over her eye, her tanned cheeks flushed crimson, her full lips parted, her chest heaving violently.

— Here's the thing. I doubt you'd find anyone else willing to fuck a girl a couple of times for 20 thousand. You can find cheaper. So behave properly. That's first. Second. I don't approve of your way of earning money, so I'll do everything to make you feel how shitty this method is. You won't get off easy. And third. Until I come in all three of your holes, you won't get the money. You can resist, refuse something, I'll force you in various ways, but if I don't manage to use all three holes, then sorry.

Natasha mumbled:

— What do you mean, three holes?

— W-e-l-l. Here we go. I take it you've never given it in the ass?

— No!

— Will you give it to me?

Her eyes moistened, but the girl stubbornly swallowed her tears.

I looked around. We were alone in the cafe. The bartender had blown off work.

— And now I want to see if you're pretty down there.

— Where?

Big eyes look at me in surprise. Like a first-grader and integrals.

— Don't play dumb! Spread your legs. I want to check the goods completely.

Natasha hesitated for a bit. Reluctantly spread her knees. I unceremoniously reached between her thighs.

— Slide your ass forward.

Her eyes flashed, but she complied. Now it's convenient to move the snow-white triangle aside, try the lips. Wet, damn it!

She sits tensely. Her face contorts, now tearful, now seemingly contemptuous. Well, sorry, you signed up for this yourself, for a strange man to dig around in your pussy like it's his property.

— Does it excite you that a man who bought you is groping you there right away? Who will do whatever he wants with you? That you are, essentially, a prostitute, a whore?

— I told you, don't pry into my soul! And I'm not a whore!

She gets angry, hisses like an angry cat. But at the same time, she doesn't close her legs. Doesn't change her body position. Allows me to stroke her lips, penetrate her vagina with a finger.

She folded her arms on her chest, lifted her chin, angrily flared her nostrils, turned slightly away. The very picture of offended innocence. And between her legs is the hand of a strange man. Funny, honestly! And it's wet there. Not flowing, of course, but quite ready for a man.

I take my hand out. Elbow on the table. Fingers up.

— Lick it!

— Ha! You've lost your mind!

She makes a face as if talking to an idiot. Slightly contemptuous, slightly condescending, slightly weary.

I wipe my fingers on the silky curves appetizingly arranged in her cleavage.

She squeals, jumps up. The chair falls with a crash. The bartender looks out. Natasha is a magnificent sight. Disheveled, ruffled, arms and legs splayed, panic in her eyes,

the dress barely covering her crotch.

— The check, please. — And a little quieter — And you sit down. I don't understand, why did you freak out?

Miss Offended Innocence adjusted her panties when the bartender turned away, smoothed her dress, and sat down. Proudly turned away with an air of "I don't notice boors!" Lovely!

I paid, lit a cigarette. Too bad she's such a prude. It's been tight in my pants for a while. I was hoping she'd take it in her mouth too. At any rate, I would have tried to force her. That would have been luxurious. Under the table with her, and my cock in her mouth. I sigh regretfully.

— I thought you'd suck me off now. The first item would have been checked off.

She turned. Wariness and distrust.

— What, here?

— Does something bother you now that you've become a prostitute?

— What a fool! No, just a sick maniac.

— Get used to it!

We go by taxi. We enter from the back. A gray dog on a chain barks its head off. The yard is open, spacious. A little garden, a couple of trees, paving stones. Behind the chain-link fence, a neighbor is filling a barrel.

Natasha bites her lips in annoyance, tries to slip by unnoticed.

— Hi, Natasha!

— Hi, Uncle Tolya! This is my cousin. From Petersburg. For a few hours.

— And you never told me about a cousin!

— It just happened that way!

— Good afternoon! We haven't spoken before. I'm just passing through, decided to get to know Natasha better.

An angry look from under thick lashes burns.

Sideways, sideways, we're in the house. A small hallway. Through one open door, a decent kitchen set is visible, in another, a sofa and an old pot-bellied TV. The air conditioner hums quietly. Seryozha took care of our comfort. Respect.

I follow Natasha into the living room. I reach under her hem, touch the delightful, firm, silky ass.

She squeals, jumps back into a corner. Glares through a wave of black bangs. A wild little animal caught in a trap. I wait for it to sink in that she's about to get fucked, and she's worried about her ass being groped.

She straightens up. Proudly and independently. "Resolutely threw off her jacket, tra-ta-ta." Ugh, damn!

— Take off your panties and give them to me!

She thinks for a moment. What's there to think about? Need to do your job? Yes! Not in panties! Understanding is reflected on her face. Takes them off, steps out of them with her shapely legs. Hands them to me. I put them in my pocket.

She giggles:

— Why didn't you smell them? All maniacs do that!

Is she joking or what?

— Well, I can smell what they were on. I think that will entertain me more.

Her pretty face falls.

— Well, okay, time to get to work. First, I'll use your mouth.

I unzip my fly. The hungry, thirsty Little Guy appears. Already fully erect. Natasha looks at it as if it's an insect. Disgustedly and disapprovingly. Her gaze says: "What, I have to suck THIS?" Yes-yes, baby, how else?

I approach, press on her shoulders. She looks at me sadly and with a heavy sigh gets on her knees. I'm impatient. Desire burns. I want to feel soft lips at the epicenter of my thirst.

She hesitates for a few moments. Takes a couple of heavy breaths and finally opens her mouth. I push my cock between her parted lips. They close. Gentle sucking. I even growl from this, still very light, caress.

Her eyes are closed, a suffering expression on her face, she winces. Well, I don't get it at all! The wild beast inside me is raging, wants to tear this sweet mouth to shreds, push the cock down her throat, stuff it into her cheek. The man still wants to play. The man is winning for now.

— So, my girl, that won't do! You have to suck so that I feel your love, your fascination with the object, your adoration.

— Pfft! As if!

She looks up at me from below. A portrait of "Beauty and an Erect Cock." Michelangelo rests next to this picture. And her fingers are gripping the shaft tightly. I make a mental note. I calm the stirred-up beast. I'll give you this body to tear apart later. We have 6 hours.

— Suck, like I said!

Her lips envelop the cock again. I shudder. Pleasure.

The girl is portraying love. And how! Like in a silent movie — exaggeratedly and comically. Eyebrows arched, eyes rolled back, batting her eyelashes. Funny. Seriously funny. I snort. Natasha snorts too. Through her nose. It's hard to do otherwise with a cock in her mouth.

What a joker, damn, she found the right moment!

I can't help it and laugh. Natasha joins in from below.

We laugh.

— Okay, let's try again. Now for real.

— Listen, you're so picky! I won't do it at all!

She pouts, sits back on her heels, folds her arms on her chest.

I pull the belt from my pants, fold it in half, snap it.

— Yeah, got it, got it. You should have said so right away!

Again, soft lips envelop my cock. She sucks detachedly, like