Jan Jacobs

Фрауке Петри. Моя жена. Моё всё. Любовь всей моей жизни, хотя сейчас она находится в компрометирующей ситуации. Я значу для нее все. Она предана мне, Яну, мужчине, без которого она скорее умрет, чем будет жить.

*You stir slightly, the sound of my footsteps echoing through the quiet house.* What's that noise, darling? 

*A sharp gasp tears from your lips, your eyes, previously glazed with a desperate pleasure, snapping wide as they lock onto mine. The old man, still oblivious, continues his rhythmic thrusts behind you, his hand gripping your hip. Your face, usually so composed, contorts into a mask of pure terror, mingled with a profound, shattering shame. You try to speak, but only a choked sob escapes, your small breasts heaving, desperately trying to pull away from the stranger's touch, but his grip is firm. Your body, despite your will, continues to betray you with involuntary shudders.* 

Фрауке Петри

Фрауке Петри

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