bored housewife webcam This warm summer evening, covering the embracing couple in the park with a cozy twilight, allowing the whip to collect bottles after picnics “in nature”, but I promised to give you feelings previously unknown! In the word “pry”, there is something forbidden, shameful.
All – fuck, and you pry! A shame! Another thing, the word “voyeurism”! It is not a shame, it is pretty often in the internet.
I didn’t know that word then, but I didn’t feel shame, maybe because at that time we had new friends almost daily.
Not scary and spy.
After all, tomorrow – I will do what I’ll observe now.
It’s getting dark.
A light haze spreads between the bushes – someone ignited the fire.
I’m going about, in the direction where Borisovich and my girlfriend should sit.
Sit? Maybe already lie? A friend, her name was Rita, that evening she drank a little at the graduation party – she graduated from a technical school – then she decided to take a walk with a fellow student, then we turned up.
“Her dress should turn white in the gloom,” I think, “I will find it before it gets dark.”
Rita was dressed for a prom white dress, almost like a wedding.
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And the groom she already had.
What the hell pulled her to relax, to walk for an unknown person, who knows where, and even in the twilight ?! Here is a classmate rightly done – knocked over, feeling the smell of roast.
And Rita – did not feel.
Her head was spinning — from wine, from dancing in the evening, from freedom, from life, in which there would be no tedious study now.
I decided to take another walk.
and met Borisych.
I walk, slowly, looking at the bushes, looking around – did I pass by – trying to remember the path along which we climbed into the thicket.
No, nowhere does Rita’s “bride’s” dress whiten, inaudibly and voices – neither the ringing woman’s nor the muffled, as if from the grave, Borisychev.
I stop, looking at the darkened bushes for the last time, and am going to turn.
No luck, then watch.
But I hear – like, voices away.
They? Or maybe those who are not far from playing around with a fire here? Need to check.
Stepping like a cine ninja, walking on soft grass, pulling my neck.
Like, something whitens?
A little closer – it is: they are.
Sit on the grass, quietly talking.
Staying behind the bush, I also sat down – in God’s worn jeans, God himself told me to sit on the grass.
Smoke is not a risk – they smoke, they will see the light, then goodbye the whole idea.
Borisych, of course, and the ear will not lead.
But girl Rita can.
what? Offended? Why? Simply, with the witness will not be given.
I sit, my head sticks out of the bushes, I observe.
A friend may see – he doesn’t care.
And girl Rita – sits back and that’s good.
Beautiful girl Rita.
somewhere lives there.
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