When a person has money, he can do a lot. When a person has a lot of money, he can do almost anything.

It was in the second category that my new customer belonged: he was a man with a huge amount of money who decided to fulfill the dream of his youth and organize a musical group that would arrange and perform the songs that he composed. He was from my hometown. I don’t know what exactly he did for a living. Yes, I'm not interested.

At that time, I had already been living in Germany for a year, working as a sound engineer at concerts and in the recording studio of a local production center.

Gennadich has been writing songs since the 70s: his student youth. And this time it was planned to perform on one of the Greek islands, where Gennadich’s friend had his own hotel complex.

On Friday morning, the concert director of the Gennadich group called me and offered to work with them for a concert in a month. I flew to Russia for a couple of rehearsals. After spending a week in my hometown, getting to know the band and getting into the essence of the material at rehearsals, seeing my parents and friends, I returned to Frankfurt. I was pleasantly surprised that the drummer and bassist in this group were my old friends, with whom we once began the difficult path to show business. After 3 weeks I was already flying to Athens. The city of Frankfurt am Main, where I lived, was loved by me not only for its good and profitable work, but also because it is where the Lufthansa airline is based, on which you can fly non-stop almost anywhere. And now I was on a wonderful direct flight.

I carried with me a wheeled suitcase with clothes and a backpack with work tools, laptops and tablets.

Upon arrival in Athens, I was met by a specially trained person who escorted me to the helicopter. As a result, I was taken to the island. I was placed in a room on the top floor, which was to my liking.

In the evening at dinner we met with Rinat and Antokha - drummer and bassist. They said that they were going to go on a yacht tomorrow afternoon and invited me to join.

The yacht was quite large, and the band’s musicians, admins, managers and...

Then they hit me like a sack on the head. I saw my ex. More than ten years ago, we studied at parallel university courses, only she studied journalism, and I studied engineering. She came to this island as a correspondent for a regional television channel to cover such a significant event for the region as the performance of Gennadich’s group somewhere at a Greek recreation center.

I call her ex, perhaps, too arbitrarily. We only dated for a couple of months. Romance and feelings then raged in my young heart. In the end, she remained a bitten sandwich for me, because we never had sex. After screwing my brains out for a couple of months, she moved on to her ex, whom she left for me. It turned out that I was simply plugging a hole created as a result of a relationship crisis.

To say that I, 19 years old, was offended is an understatement. But time passed, and everything was put in its place, put on shelves. I developed in the process and was eventually able to move to Frankfurt for permanent residence.

I bet she didn't recognize me right away. I graduated from high school as a fat, doughy, shaggy, depressed nerd, but as I developed in my work as a sound engineer, I also took care of myself.

On the yacht I was an accomplished 32-year-old man, pumped up, with full sleeves, shaved head, dressed in branded summer clothes. But I recognized this rubbish immediately.

Sveta skillfully disguised herself as a good girl. I knew that she eventually married the same guy, but they did not have children. She was petite, with a chiseled, proportional figure, plump lips and large gray eyes. She tied her long, slightly curly brown hair into a ponytail. Her tits were small, but perfectly shaped. During our relationship, I still had the chance to meet them, and they were awesome. Since she had not yet given birth, they did not undergo any noticeable changes.

Sveta sat down at our table. This was not the first time she had covered events with this team, so she knew everyone present well.

“Well, tell me,” Rinat turned to me and called me by name, “how did you even get to Germany?”

I began to describe to him the long and winding path of a Russian provincial emigrant. And Sveta glared at me. It suddenly dawned on her who was sitting in front of her. When I turned to her a couple of times, supposedly by accident, she immediately abruptly looked away. But I knew that she was looking at me, comparing me with how she knew me at university.

Rinat, Antokha, and I sipped my favorite Cypriot beer, which I, to my joy, found in a local store in canned form. We snacked on nuts and some kind of sea fish. In the distance one could see the beautiful coastline of an island, and on the other side another one. I didn't talk to Sveta. I didn’t really know how to react to her, so I decided not to react at all.

After the beer there was a good honey Metaxa, already from the rider's reserves. Snacking it with cheese and olives is divine. Upon arriving at the hotel dock, we continued into the lobby.

Suddenly I accidentally noticed that Sveta was trying to attract my attention. Very subtle and very unobtrusive. She did not speak to anyone, only answered questions or picked up the conversation, but did not initiate topics herself. But instead of not shining, she either stood up, then fidgeted, or even got up from the table, walked around, then sat down again.

I didn’t look in her direction, but saw this whole performance with peripheral vision. It was clear that Sveta was already tipsy from metaxa.

Rinat and I discussed mutual friends, he told me how everyone was doing and all that. We took selfies and recorded stories. They made noise and noise.

Suddenly I saw Sveta, with bleary eyes, staggering towards the elevator.

Insidious thoughts, fueled by metaxa, entered my head. She waited for the elevator, got in, and the elevator left. Above the entrance there was a display indicating which floor the cabin was on. I furtively noticed that the booth had stopped at eight. I lived on the tenth.

I couldn't share my thoughts with anyone. Everyone knew that Sveta was married, and the ring on her finger was quite noticeable.

“I’ll go to the room,” I said, pretending to be drunker than I actually was, “I need to charge the phone, and the tablet too, to work tomorrow.” As soon as I put it down, I’ll go back down.

I called the elevator and got to the 10th floor, then went down the stairs to the eighth. There were few rooms on the floor, only 8. They were located in a circle, sort of like in a tower. Svetin's room was open, the sound of water could be heard from the room. I looked inside.

The bitch stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, bowing her head over the sink. The tap was open and water was gushing out. Her long hair was wet.

- Hey how are you?

She turned around. The look was very blurred. Through this veil she smiled and, calling me by name, hung on my neck.

I remembered how she refused to have sex with me because I didn’t have a condom with me. She flatly refused to use a condom.

Now I didn’t have a condom either. I closed the door, dragged her into the room and threw her onto the wide double bed. Now I will get everything that I didn’t get then. She stretched out on the bed face down. The dress rode up and blue bikini panties with laces at the corners appeared from under it. It was the bottom of a swimsuit. I took her by the hips and raised her ass so that Sveta stood doggy style. Unexpectedly, she herself did everything as I wanted. The next second - her panties, untied by me, fly to the floor. The dress slid down her neck, exposing her sweet tits: she was not wearing a bra. Another moment - and my erect penis went balls deep into Sveta, which made her scream and raise her head. And now I’m already fucking this bitch doggy style, firmly pushing my rather large bolt into her miniature married pussy the entire length, pawing her tits and sticking my fingers into her mouth, which she sucks with pleasure.

A drunk woman is not the owner of a pussy. Sveta quickly forgot about her husband, got a taste for it and was already moaning with all her might and waving her ass at me. She took my dick into her, kneeling doggy style, spreading her legs wide, making her anal clearly visible to me. To punish this bitch properly, I decided to fuck her in the ass. She had some creams on the mirror, which I considered quite suitable as a lubricant. Grabbing what seemed to be a hand moisturizer, I pizdeishn.net squeezed it generously onto her anal. She realized that this would not end well for her and tried to kick, but I pressed her head to the bed, and I lubricated her anus with my finger. Having moistened it properly, I pulled my penis out of her wet vagina and began to insert it into her ass.

Sveta tried to kick again. Having crumpled up the sheet and stuffed the lump into her mouth, she screamed into the lump in a very muffled voice. I inserted my dick all the way into her and started moving. Her ass was clearly not fuckable. The sphincter ring tightly squeezed the penis. Sveta continued to scream, now into the pillow.

“Be patient, bitch,” I said, “I’ll fuck you right now for all your bullshit, you trash!”

Sveta’s ass turned out to be so narrow and tight that I couldn’t hold on for long, but I wasn’t going to cum in the ass. Pulling out my dick, I wiped it on the blanket, stuck it in her pussy and continued fucking the bitch. Her asshole turned red and noticeably enlarged. I fucked her ass properly.

Having pounded Sveta, I began to shoot straight into her pussy. She had always been afraid of this, and now she got it. Having pumped the bitch with sperm, I kept my dick inside. High and satisfaction spread throughout the body. If a bitch gets pregnant, it will be her problem. In general, at that moment I wanted her husband to find out everything and leave her.

I should have seen how she later explained her fucked ass to him. But maybe it wasn’t necessary, women are cunning creatures. Taking my dick out of my married ex, I stuffed it into her mouth. She lay in awe and knocked out, and reflexively took my dick into her mouth, after her ass and pussy, and began to sluggishly suck it. Sperm oozed out of the vagina. And then it dawned on her that I had filled her tank full. She jumped up in horror and ran to the shower. I calmly pulled on shorts and a T-shirt and went on drinking.

Well, what will she tell anyone? Her husband is unlikely to like this story. And my colleagues won’t appreciate the story of a correspondent who was fucked in all her holes. So I didn't give a fuck. On top of that, I lived abroad.

All the following days we did not see her anywhere, not even at breakfast.

Sveta appeared with the cameraman only at the concert. That confident look was gone. She avoided eye contact with me at all costs. And I didn't give a fuck.

After finishing the concert, I refused to stay on the island for a drinking session, and, having received my fee in cash, asked to be sent by helicopter to Athens, lying about something very urgent. 40 minutes later I was already flying over the Aegean Sea. The fee would be enough for me to live in Athens for a couple of months without denying myself anything. The next flight to Frankfurt was only in the morning, and I spent the whole night in Elifetherius Venzelos, sipping cocktails in the bar. Opening a social network on my smartphone, I saw a message from Sveta, who found me:

- Why did you do that?

I decided that I would not answer. Fuck her.

And he blocked her.

This bitch never appeared in my life again, and I didn’t work with Gennadich’s group. A year later, while visiting Russia, I once met Rinat in St. Petersburg, who asked me point-blank over a glass of beer in a pub:

- They say that you fucked Sveta the journalist in Greece back then.

- The earth is full of rumors.

- Yes, she almost got divorced there because of these rumors, they seemed to have reached her husband.

- Well, what are you going to do now...

- Was it like that or not?

- Do you really need that?

Rinat looked into my eyes and smiled. He understood everything.

It was one of the best days of my life.

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