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Jumping out of the bushes, I wandered down a quiet street.
I went to that shop only a few times, as they were closer. I looked like a rural whore with whom they paid for beer bottles, treacherously tinkling in a bag.
The main thing in this business is to go ahead with a glassy-stiff look, without stopping at anyone.

All is well so far rare and sober passers-by are found, for some, only the jaw hangs slightly, and everything is fine.
From a distance I noticed a group of guys and had to immediately turn off the route and wait.
Finally a “tent” emerges.
At times it’s like a club in the air — they drink, they hang out, sometimes they rest on the grass.
Nearby I had to equip an observation post and wait in the wings; in the summer, the kiosk worked for 24 hours, so I was not limited in time. Online sex series.

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