I drank cautiously, very good vodka. It was not a bad start. We talked to Olya, it turned out she was a pure Bulgarian, her mother was from Ukraine an... married in Bulgaria. She worked as a secretary in a Bulgarian-Russian company. She complained she had problems with men.Half an hour later, the more impatient began to kiss, taste and slowly take off. There were several bedrooms, some went out there.My vodka caught me, I relaxed and squirmed. Olya put down her glass, grabbed my breast and. Five more slaps rapidly on the tits. Thud, punch in the eye again. She starts to convulse and wretch again, about to puke. I reach up with both hands and grip her around the throat. My solid cock still twitching inside her, ready to explode whenever I let it. I squeeze her throat as I feel her trying to vomit. I don't let her. I bring her head face to face with me, staring in those pretty bloodshot brown eyes, black makeup completely smeared around her face, mixed with blood, sweat, and god. More

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