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The vagina has allocated enough lubricant and the penetration is easy and painless.
Katerina felt only that she was stretched from the inside by something startling, and Uncle’s pubis pressed tightly against the clitoris.
Nikolai Fyodorovich slowly, slowly, as if teasing, pulled his farm out of it and put it in the same way, listening for his sensations.

He definitely liked the elastic young vagina.
Worse was another – sperm overwhelmed him and at any second was ready to break out.
Katerina moved under him, almost bringing her to an orgasm.
His pelvis involuntarily twitched, and then once again Nikolai Fedorovich groaned with disappointment at not having fully enjoyed the young body, sprawled on the woman, while the member, shrinking, spat out the last drops.
Katerina, sensing this, almost

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bit her lip in annoyance.
That delightful condition that engulfed her, with the center somewhere between her legs, remained incomplete.
She knew perfectly well what was about to be all over.
Before the wedding, in spite of the very strict upbringing of the mother, she sometimes, climbing into the bushes in the depths of the garden, touched herself there, dying from fear and pleasure.
After marrying, she stopped it, considering it dishonest of her husband.
At first, she expected similar with marital intimacy, but nothing like that happened with Prokhor.
His hefty elda didn’t deliver anything but pain.
It’s good that it was enough for a while.
And now, as soon as it began, everything immediately ended.
While Nikolai Fedorovich dressed and put himself in order, Katerina was lying in the same shameless pose, watching him.
– Well, get up already! – He pulled her hand.
With difficulty moving her stiff legs, she rose, not paying attention to the sperm flowing on her legs.
The uncle himself wiped all of her pantaloons and threw them aside.

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– You can go now.
If need be, I’ll call you.
At that time, Prokhor, being in the dark about his uncle’s time, was cursing while driving around on his instructions.
Everything did not stick out from the very beginning: the right person wasn’t at home and had to be expected, the papers were not ready yet.
Having overcome all difficulties, he, satisfied with himself, fell out of Ivanov, squeezing the bag and ran into a familiar lieutenant in the street.
– Oh, Prokhor! – He was delighted.
– How are you on time! Come with me! – No, Sergey, I have to give my uncle a package.
– And it certainly needs to be done now? – the lieutenant has become sad.
– Well.
He said nothing about this.
– Then hurry is not necessary! And I have a question of life and death! – Yes, that at least something happened? – You see, Prokhor, there is not a single maiden living nearby.
with Mother.
I need to give her a little note so that no one will notice.
Well, you understand.
You distract her mother for a moment, and I will tell.
That’s all! For half an hour, turn around and go to your uncle! Without thinking twice, Prokhor agreed.
It was really no reason to hurry home, but it was interesting to look at Sergeev’s passion.
The desired house was found very close.
The footman who opened the door led them to the library for some reason.
While Prokhor was staring at countless books, the hostess appeared — a slightly plump lady of about thirty.
– Hello, Sergey Yuryevich! Long time you have not been to us.
And who is this with you? – This is Prokhor, the nephew of Nikolai Fedorovich.
Actually, we briefly passed by and decided to pay our respects to you and Masha.
By the way, where is she? – Oh, Sergey Yuryevich, we know this is your “respect”! – she playfully shook his finger at him.
– However, Masha is still not home now.
– Yes-ah? Oh, what a pity! – Sergey looked extremely disappointed.
– Then we, perhaps, will go.
I told you – we are just for a minute.
– No no no! – opposed the lady.
– I won’t let you go! Have some tea with me! I had to agree.
Tea was served here, in the library.
Because of this, the conversation at the table was about literature, or rather, about rare vintage editions.
Sergei Yuryevich was pleased to discuss with Elena Grigorievna the peculiarities of the extraction and storage of rarities, but Prokhor understood this, to put it mildly, it does not matter.
He did not listen for long, barely suppressed a yawn, and went to the shelves, strolling along them and looking at the colorful roots.
At random pulling out one volume, he rubbed the cover of his sleeve, trying to disassemble the half-rubbed image.
– Oh, yes, you are also interested in books? – the mistress has paid attention to it.
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