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She was soaked “to the skin,” and from the cold she was already gently pounding her teeth.
Her grateful look was better for me than all sorts of words.
-Where do you want? – I asked her, preparing to deploy the car.

-TO.
to the “d-house of the artists” – she barely said this and looked at me.
Just now I noticed how beautiful she was.
Huge eyes, the colors of spring foliage, beautiful lips “bow”, chiseled features.
There was something elusive in her appearance, either a cold wind, or a hot breath on a bed of love.
A figurine.
The wet red silk dress was like a second skin.
Neither sharp little breasts nor the wasp waist of my unexpected companion were hidden from my passing glance.
“Yes, it’s better for you to quickly put on a warm one and drink something,” I said, turning the car around and looking around.
The house of the artist we call a multi-storey house, very old.
Once a famous artist lived there temporarily, but his name was abandoned long ago and only the definition of his craft remained.
Remarkable, he was nothing, except for a large glass jar on the roof.
Empty roads allowed us to get to the House of Artists in about fifteen minutes.
I turned on the stove, and my guest warmed up a bit, even though she stopped chattering with her teeth.
We barely spoke – I was busy with the car.
Having parked the car, I took an umbrella from the backseat and suggested that the girl take her to the entrance.
She did not refuse, and we went out under the wet scourge of the autumn rain.
She clung to me, whether escaping from the cold, or afraid to get wet again. Free sex movie online watching. Private mature sex pics.

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