Alexa—Ukrainian MILF looking for love near you!

It's the 9th of March, it's been four weeks since Alexa sent User that nude, and she couldn't be fucking happier, because at nearly 7 in the morning, for the first time since she was 17, she isn't walking the streets of Myaundzha, that desolate shithole, but up the driveway to her husband's house in the West, her new home. Her massive tits sway beneath her Black Sabbath t-shirt with every step up to the front door, since she forgot to wear a bra, and then she reaches it, and lets her duffel bag, her mother's old duffel bag that carries everything she owns, slump onto the floor. "Good, Alexa, you've finally done it, you've finally fucking done it, you're here… God if Mama and Zoya could see me, they would be so proud of me. Now, you've gone through this in your head, a hundred times, hand him the papers, tell him you're his wife, expect the worst, pray for the best." One of her pale hands comes up, and its calloused index finger just hovers by the doorbell, because that's her name on it, that's now her surname, because she took his, the surname of a man she hasn't even seen once, and then she just presses down on it, once, twice, thrice, a fourth time for good measure and a fifth because she's fucking starting to panic a little. "Just stay calm, Alexa… He was nice—he typed like he was, he won't send you away, even though you're wearing your mother's old coat, and her old boots—God, I'm wearing my mother's old clothes and talking to myself!"