Dark, emptiness causes almost physical pain. Similar to the annoying fly, flashes before the eyes, now approaching, then almost disappearing in the depths of the fading consciousness, a bright red dot. Probably, it is she who buzzes so disgustingly, and the sound of a hot needle digs into the brain. Some strange world - there is only pain and fear in it. Never existed no thoughts, no memories. How strange it is to feel infinity and at the same time feel that you are dying. I have no body, and, probably, never was. Only incomprehensible force presses to the ground, not allowing you to take a breath, and, for some reason, nonexistent eyes hurt. Coldly. Consciousness is tired of struggling with a disgusting red dot and slowly dying away. The buzz is waning. Suddenly my body, which has become incredibly heavy and almost real, falls at an unimaginable speed upwards, or rather, downwards, to where the sticky darkness begins to absorb what was once called me.

With a nasty buzz, the fat fly cuts through thick air, crawls across a muddy puddle on a dirty table and finally falls silent, falling backwards. Grayish wallpaper in the morning light scatter into the distance with oblique ribbons, skirting a strange motley, skewed square. It is difficult to discern a chaotic jumble of buildings turned upside down, a dark gray sky is lying at the bottom. Fragile memories suggest that when someone painted this picture, the sky was above. I decide on a desperate attempt to get up. Paul surprises me with his extremely unusual, colorful look, worthy of the brush of a nihilist artist. Jumbled greeting cards, scraps of wrapping paper and burst balloons are in a mess, mixed with fragments of crockery and bottle glass. The number sixteen is persistently spinning in my head. Strange. Sixteen, sixteen.: Sixteen years old? I turned sixteen yesterday !!!

A wave of memories instantly covers me with cold sticky sweat and clears my mind. At first it becomes scary, then disgusting and, finally, infinitely shameful. Choking on his own remorse, choking on confused fragments of thoughts, staggering, I went up to the mirror. With an expression of dull unconsciousness, combined with pathetic helplessness, someone's unfamiliar twisted face with scary blue bags under his eyes stares at me from there with glassy eyes. Swaying, I add to the next room, the bedroom of my parents, and timidly peek inside. “God, what a blessing that they left and do not see this nightmare,” is the first thing that crawls into the brain, exhausted by yesterday's orgy. Right on the matrimonial bed of my ancestors, a nutty neoclassical pride the width of a half bedroom with dead naked bodies, my guests lay side by side — three guys and two girls. Where are my two girlfriends gone, was unknown. They must not have been delighted by the prospect of group sex long in the night, and in a drunken stupor they still found the door from the apartment. Yes, judging by the picture, they have lost a lot. The silk sheet was crumpled, torn in places and lost its creamy color due to the stains of wine and brandy. Splashes dried on bright wallpaper and sticky puddles glistened on the floor. It can be seen wine literally poured. A slightly bent floor lamp was lying on the floor, sprinkled with multicolored chips of broken stained glass. Probably, my friends argued about how best to fuck: in the light or in the dark, they fought, and the problem resolved itself. “My father brought him from Venice:” - this thought makes me regret that I woke up.

I sit down carefully on the edge of the bed, afraid to wake someone up. But these measures are superfluous: if I jumped on a run, no one would have moved.I peer more attentively, trying to figure out the intertwined tangle of bodies, completely flooded with dried sperm. My childhood friend, a talented guitarist, is voluptuously hugging a pillow. On the neck he has black women's panties. Across him, hugging his ass and dangling his legs on the floor, holding a dildo in his hand, my neighbor Dima peacefully settled down, a small cheerful, but with a slightly bluish reputation. “Where did he get the dildo?” - I think I immediately recall that yesterday he surprised me and all still sober guests with this very gift. Nearby, feet on the pillow, burying my face between the legs of the guitarist, lay my best friend. One hand on his own pussy, the other rests sleepily under Dima, near the member. The other couple just stood out and lay on the other side of the bed. Vitaly's hands, a modest student, are cruelly tied behind his back, a rough rope sticks into the skin. On his pale neck a long bright scar is clearly visible. Back in fresh bruises and bruises. On it, half-sitting, half-lying, Marinka, a touchingly sentimental little girl, who gave me a huge teddy bear yesterday, fell asleep. I'm at a loss. And without that vague thoughts are confused to impossibility. I aimlessly direct my unseeing glance into a corner, at a pile of crumpled clothes, thrown off in a hurry. I look, I look, and suddenly I jump in surprise. At the very top lay my beige tango, next to it is a black translucent skirt. There can be no mistakes. It turns out, and here I was the queen of the ball: Vague images stand before my eyes, spin, replace each other and repeat again. A body below, a body from above, groans, kisses on all surface of skin, hands, legs, naked breasts, standing members, moved apart buttocks. Everywhere sperm, brandy, pillows and panty fly, it smells like a strange mixture of men's and women's fragrances.

I sit in a kind of stupor. The more obsessive the pictures flicker before your eyes, the less horror and disgust remains, their place is taken by a pulsating desire, sweet, intoxicating. The memories dragged me down so much that I didn’t hear the moaning of sleepiness, the guitarist got up and approached me. I was not even surprised when I felt his hot, lousy breath in my hair. One hand squeezed my chest tightly, the other one unceremoniously ruled between dutifully divorced legs. We fell to the floor, exhausted from the desire to continue the orgy. “Ah, happy birthday, kitten!” - someone screamed over my ear, not at all embarrassed by our occupation with the guitarist. Soon the others woke up. The celebration continued:

Sexy devil

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