The gigolo-thief died on the roof of a Soyuzpechat kiosk from trading the Australian dollar on Forex.
§ 1.
With some remnants of his mind, Aslan figured out to hoist the moaning Sveta onto the roof of the "Soyuzpechat" kiosk. Just a moment later, he animalistically and passionately thrust into her, without removing her panties, and began to have her like a horse.
Sveta's mind had long been elsewhere. She hadn't been in paradise for three months now, so lust devoured her right in the middle of her lunch break.
"Just not on my legs," the exhausted Sveta barely squeezed out.
Aslan had no choice but to finish to the side. A powerful stream of hot sperm disappeared beyond the "horizon" of the kiosk on whose roof they had just copulated.
Sveta's iPhone, which was lying somewhere off to the side, rang with its call tone. The phone had fallen from her hands in a surge of passion.
"Seems like the European session is about to start," Sveta said, closing her eyes as if through a dream.
Aslan picked up the phone with interest and, lying next to Sveta, unlocked the screen.
Sveta nestled against Aslan's shoulder:
"Open that icon on the right... no... yes, that one," she corrected his fingers, and MetaTrader opened.
The Aussie had just corrected after its night's sleep, and now was the perfect time to sell it.
"I thought you could only trade from a computer..." Aslan said, examining the chart.
"From a comp... so you trade Forex too?!" Now it was Sveta's turn to be surprised.
She slightly raised her head and looked at Aslan differently. Until now, he had attracted her as a loving egg-bearer and cunnimaker, but the fact that he was in the know about Forex...
She tenderly took hold of his cock, gave him a few smooth strokes.
"Are you aware of account boosting?" she asked, as if casually, not looking at him and pretending to be engrossed in his manhood.
"You've got about 8k and change in this account, what boosting...?" Aslan raised his eyes to her.
"That's not for boosting... that's just my usual daily risk norm..." Sveta explained, but much more importantly, Aslan turned out to be aware of boosting.
The iPhone was back in Sveta's hands. A few seconds later, Aslan saw 72k on the deposit when Sveta logged into a different trading account.
"70 pips to the next four-hour support..." Aslan muttered thoughtfully to himself, looking at the chart.
"Neither Monday nor the night ocean could take 0.7170..." Sveta mumbled in agreement. "It's Tuesday now, European session... we're falling from the level and not thinking about anything..."
"But 72 kilorubles of risk... that's... for you, that's two weddings' worth of work if you blow it..." Aslan said slowly, looking her straight in the eyes. He was scared, but also greedy.
Sveta slowly took the iPhone from him. Settling into a corner of the roof, the appetizing, epilated slit between Sveta's boldly spread legs invited Aslan to continue the depraved adventures, surrendering to fate.
"With you, I'm ready to risk boosting a thousand bucks," Sveta looked at him boldly, though inside everything was pounding with fear of the dangerous trading.
§ 2.
Sveta was thrown into fear with each new position opening, then courage to keep working reappeared when she felt Aslan's hot tongue inside her vagina.
Twenty minutes had already passed since she placed sell limit orders, and they began opening one after another as the Aussie fell.
"Aslan, I'm really scared," Sveta whimpered when she already had a position of 28.2 lots in the market for 204k rubles, and a correction could start soon.
Aslan withdrew his tongue from her slit. He couldn't get enough of that beauty, especially feeling how that beauty was convulsing when he left her untouched. It seemed if he let her go right now, Sveta would go completely nuts from the stress of the open positions.
Even if Sveta didn't understand it with her mind, her body felt it perfectly. Some micro-movements kept trying to connect their bodies with Aslan again and again. Satiated with her helplessness and agitation, his huge, hairy palm gently covered Sveta's pubic area, and he himself sat down next to Sveta to look at the market.
"What's your total risk across all open positions now?"
Sveta gathered all her efforts into a fist, but her brain refused to work.
"Got it," Aslan chuckled good-naturedly.
He pulled out his own iPhone, covered in some pink hearts. A minute later, the Forex calculator for open positions showed an overall risk of 15 pips.
"Kinda crazy, but livable," he concluded. "Let's set a lock for the correction, I want you."
His tender kisses covered Sveta's neck, then descended lower to enjoy her amazing, swollen nipples.
It wasn't clear who was going crazier: either Aslan from the sensation of the firm and bold nipple on his lips, or Sveta, losing her sense of reality as Aslan bit her tits harder and harder, while his fingers worked wonders between her legs.
Barely managing, Sveta managed to set the lock just as the market moved against her. Feeling her strength draining, Sveta moaned.
Aslan abruptly grabbed her by the waist, turned her body towards him backside, and began to have her like a wild beast. Sveta was already somewhere else, it seemed she was about to pass out... and then a wave, then another, then more and more began to wash over her body.
Overcoming everything, Aslan's cock slipped out of Sveta's pussy at the last second, and another powerful, victorious stream of sperm raced beyond the "horizon" of the kiosk.
§ 3.
Sveta didn't immediately remember that she, well-fucked, was lying on the kiosk roof. In an instant, she shuddered as if electrocuted when she remembered she had open positions on Forex, but then it passed because she remembered she had locked all positions before sex.
Aslan lay next to her, Sveta's iPhone having slipped from his hands. She had no strength, so she turned on her side. The balance was... 988k rubles, and the Aussie kept falling with 108.1 lots of position open. Sveta felt darkness clouding her eyes, but she didn't wake Aslan.
Looking at the trade history, she discovered that while setting the lock, she accidentally pressed the button twice, and thus the first position threw the open positions into a lock, and the second, with the same volume, opened against the trend on the correction!
Sveta froze. The air refused to enter her lungs as she looked at the list of trades.
Gathering the remnants of her will, she saw that the correction trades had been closed manually, albeit with a small loss, but that at least saved her account from being blown.
Then it got even more interesting. Sell limit orders had been placed every 5 pips, and they all triggered automatically as the Aussie fell.
Sveta understood the market would likely go down to 0.7100, and had she held the 108-lot position for another half hour or hour, she would have had 2 million in her account.
But one million suited her. The strength to endure further stress had run out. All trades were closed. With a feeling of gratitude towards Aslan, she leaned back. Looking at the sky, she pondered how best to
thank her "prince." Her cherished dream had come true—the boosting she had heard so much about had finally happened to her!
§ 4.
Some guy called the police because today someone had already splattered him with sperm from the kiosk roof twice.
The first time he thought a bird had pooped, but the second time there was so much sperm, and it was so pungent, that it couldn't possibly be a bird. It became clear to the victim that someone was conducting targeted "fire" from the kiosk roof.
The police didn't want to respond to such a call, but the guy was persistent, so the squad only came out around six, just to get him to stop calling them.
On the kiosk roof, the cops found Aslan's lifeless body. He was clothed but with his cock exposed, from which mucus was dripping as usual after sex.
Aslan had no documents on him. When they ran the iPhone's number, it turned out that at the police station there was a report filed three days earlier from some girl from the same district on that phone.
No one knew how Aslan ended up on the roof, and certainly no one saw any Sveta. Neither the victim nor the saleswoman in the kiosk could provide any information on the matter.
The morgue workers suggested the guy died of a heart attack, and that death was instantaneous. Most likely, the body couldn't handle the simultaneous strain from sex and nervous tension. The guy, splattered with sperm twice, remained dissatisfied.