She came to him and not because really, I wanted to see him, but because she only wanted a book with stories Zoshchenko.
Romka opened the door for her. What a sweet! .. Buttons eyes, slender fingers, delicate wrist, sexuality and beauty in all its essence. Say hello, we sat down to drink tea. She slowly swallowing unusually delicious scalding droplets. The conversation was as always crazy. Words strokes went on his colorful canvas: memories, laughter, traitor-true dream.
-Why do not I met you before him? - Narrowed blue eyes looked at her lair truth.
-Roman, it has no concern to us: we parted, and you are no longer communicating, -perezhitki past, painful injections memory.
Familiar a long time ago, very good friends. Talk about anything can be: philosophy and sex, literature and painful condition during menstruation. Before them was another man-Igor: her former lover, his former friend. How many redone, retold in the apartment ... And remember, every night, leaving a tired Igorka in the arms of pillows, she ran to the Roman, to listen and talk, talk, talk ...
The words dissolve in the air, furtively pressed against each other ...
In Romka - friend Lena. The girl of his life. The first time something like a feeling. The enthusiasm, the sudden rise above the earth everyday life ... Lena ... Her love, warmth. Somewhere over 1,000 kilometers from home in Moscow in a huge house with a cat, a computer and favorite daughter.
-He Storyteller - she says - a wizard ..
Romke tells about Moscow, about feeling, about the role of a cornered animal in the narrow space, its irrelevance here and there, the magnificence of the capital and the pain from the scantiness of its existence.
Romka shows All-Lenk, Lenk, about sexual intercourse always after large amounts of alcohol, the desire of the feelings of right and justice ...
-Why are we not together ??? - Ask each other's eyes - why everyone has their own life, their weaknesses, joys and grievances?
She - a dream to return to Moscow ... but now - merge with Romka in the kitchen with plaid wallpaper, smoky, stuffy ... a moment in eternity.
He has in mind a phone call in Lenkin city, and at the same time not to let that which is near, whose high voice rises to the ceiling.
Heat...
She smiles and looks at himself in the mirror - how good takes off his jacket. Romka freezes in his tracks: Well what a nice .. and forget that he had promised her home!.
Familiar bed, which became almost native smell of pillows. everything happens by itself. Memory like destroying a whole chunk of time, the transition from the kitchen to the room on the bed. The foregoing instantly forgotten. Romka shakes her close to his chest and whispered:" Do you have Kolka and I Lenka ..." And she was trembling in his hands, feeling desired for a moment, for a moment.
Night infinitely long dances, mixing around the world.
Hands swans arched, legs bent slightly apart, knees as the hills. Eyes closed ... Oh, what a cervix ... Warm, fine, beats her narrow vein. His fingers stroked her shoulder, clavicle, luxuriate in a hollow chest ... girl, sweet girl, how to hurt a girl ...
-You know, Rommie. I wanted you. I was with Igor, and wanted you. Fill in you yourselves, be in you. We are one of you, and with him the two balls in billiards: fucked and fled. one in the hole, and the other to the other, waiting for a new blow cue.
-My girl, my dear, I so wanted to break his face in blood when he hurts you did. but I could not regretted a fool ... I was thinking about you, about how it would be great to take you with me somewhere in the mountains to be alone in the whole world.
Lips tend to his lips, drinking, lick. Hand woven under unimaginable angles. Romka slender body hugging, kissing his knee, narrow foot, toes on the right foot. Raking it all, dissolving in it, it bends in an arc ... Treasure you such a treasure ... She melted like wax in his hands. He caressed her stomach with her long fingers. Lips like bites into the juicy pulp of apricot, juice drinks, biting off piece by piece. Inhale her scent, holding the nostrils to the sticky skin. She plays on the tongue of his body surface, looking for something, which tends with his whole being. And her lips again tortured lips exquisite torture, and body weave subtle lace pleasure. The body into the body, thigh regard hip, long fingers dissolved in silky skin. Marigold dig into her small needles. Spine stiffen, pulling, like the strings on a violin, passion plays them bow. Blue eyes sink into the abyss of green squares. Prestressing veins, breath revels breath. Wiring in the polyhedron fingertips caressing hands. Tummy-pulp of grapes, the smell is intoxicating as the wine. Chest heaving a rock bared, shoulder tastes like seawater. An arrow shot from a bow pierces the body absorbs the heat and the quiet is not the whimper, not a scream.
And he drinks the scent of her flesh, sinking in its infinite tenderness. Bubble a stream of desire. Language dancing semicircles on wet skin. Dazzling delight creates a sweet languor.
Roma presses her to him: involving, incredibly beautiful, tickles her pyatochku.
-You know, what are you, my girl? No words ... Treasure ...
She falls asleep, smiling and raising his pointed elbows; asleep in his arms, tangled hair spread on the pillow. Romka lying with his eyes open almost until dawn, guarding the resting her vehemence hands.
Day hits the glass bells light. She stretched, straightens his shoulders. Roma wakes up at the same time with her and laughing, feeling this is a coincidence. Kiss creates a memory-consuming desire for power.
All day they spent together: walking, jumping, confused passers-by. Besides them in this world no one is there. And suddenly...
-Do not you think all this is a mistake?
-No. And you tortured conscience?
They again talked about everything: from philosophy to sex.
-When two people love each other, they become one and treason can not walk and talk. You can not change myself. But it is only in an ideal ...
...- You know, we are like a pair of ...
And it was over. She took Zoshchenko and returned home. Buried his head in the pillow, she realized that that was all. She was very sick.
On the threshold of the apartment they were met Romkinoy angry mother. Romka entered the apartment first ...
-How long can you run on the slut? Again you smoked in the kitchen ... I'll call Helen and tell her everything ...
And you, you look at yourself? Since when was the girlfriend of Igor spend the night in my house, eh? I ask you ... What are you doing here?
Words repel each other.
-Mom, I did not sleep with her ...
After Romka went to see her. He has a cat clawing at heart.
...-Explain to her that we parted with Igor.
-Still, it is unfair to Helen. And do not cry, please, and then I feel sorry for you. I would really like you to be happy.
Tears of pain, resentment, thread, which was cut short ...
...She called Romka a week.
-I'm sorry, - he said dryly, -we should no longer see each other. We - wild children and should not be together.
-We will remain friends?
-No, It is Immpossible.
-What you so affected?
-I called Lena ... And yet, listen Igor loves you very much, and once was my best friend. I can not. Forgive me. I have become a different person. And you, it seems to me, too, it would be worth thinking about how you live. I like you, you're cool, but we each have their own life, their weaknesses, joys and grievances. It will be better this way...
You know, Roman, if I knew how to love, I would have loved only you.
Ads: