Why did I come up with this powder? Hard question. Maybe I was bored and I was looking for new experiences. Maybe it was my protest against the cult of overwhelmed girls watching every gram of their weight. To synthesize the composition, exciting a brutal appetite, I, a graduate of a medical university cost nothing. I was inspired by this by my friend, one of those Twiggy girls who buy clothes a size smaller, so that there is an incentive to lose weight a little more.

To be honest, I'm already tired of Rita, and this idea with powder seemed to me a great excuse to make fun of her last. I invited Rita to our restaurant, where we were always welcome. Because of my generosity, to Rita because I hardly gave the waiters any work.

And that evening, she ordered her favorite Greek salad, once again telling me about this “terrible excess centimeter”, which again returned to her waist. I ordered a bottle of champagne, the favorite wine of alchemists and poisoners. And while my Ritulia powdered her nose in the ladies' room, the bubbles left no trace of the powder.

- Why are you smiling? - asked Rita, sitting down.

- I miss you, - I smiled even wider and raised my glass.

Rita hid a smile in her glass. Even for a moment I felt ashamed, but curiosity got the better of me. So I looked intently into Rita’s eyes, perhaps, only on the first date. Rita melted away from my attention as a freshman.

Less than a quarter of an hour, as Rita was worried. She went into herself, frowned. When I tested the powder on myself, I, like a young puppy, swept everything off the shelves of the refrigerator, and then ordered pizza three more times. Apparently, Rita was not ready to gorge herself just as cheerfully.

- Maybe something to eat?

Rita shook her head negatively, wrinkling like a toothache.

- You are not good? Maybe leave here?

- Not! - Rita screamed and she was scared of her scream. Then she smiled shyly and said, as if apologizing:

- Can we order something else?

The first thing I saw in the morning, opening my eyes, was angry Rita, concentrating the hoop with concentration. On the offer to have breakfast together, I got such an angry look that I thought it was safe to retreat to the bathroom. Oddly enough, she did not guess anything.

After this incident, Rita did not eat anything for a week, except apples. She became irritable, suspicious. There was no chance to try the powder in action again. It became impossible to stay close to Rita and we ran away.

Rita’s concentrated face that night, when she “burned” calories in my bed until the morning, still didn’t get out of my head. As a result, I was with a small suitcase, at the bottom of which a jar of powder was hidden, found myself in a compartment of a train rushing towards Sochi. A real matron rode with me with two children and a tortured husband. The little man tried not to be seen by his wife, as far as it was possible in a confined space, because when she saw him, she either began to scream shrillly or send a restaurant to the car. She ate constantly. I imagined how I poured her powder and she began to absorb food with tripled strength. This could be a good scenario for an American horror movie, something like “Nightmare in a dining car.”

Fortunately, we all arrived in one piece. I was the last to leave the car, trying not to notice the envious glance of the peasant fellow traveler, inhaled the warm sea air, and with a cheerful step went to the impudent Sochi taxi drivers.

The next two days were just a fairy tale. Bathing in the night sea, easy flirting with the maids from the hotel and the sea of ​​homemade wine. The evening of the third day, sorting through things, I stumbled upon that very small jar. I fell asleep with the firm intention to get up early and go on the "hunt."

And of course, overslept. I came to the beach when the sun was hanging at the zenith.At this time, two categories of tourists are splashing into the sea: those who have never seen the sea and those who drank their entire vacation and came running to swim and grab their portion of the sun before leaving home.

I stood for a couple of minutes, looking at the red from the sunburns of the backs of the balsacian office coquetteers and did not hesitate to walk more than two hundred hundred meters to the looming cafe. Here I saw her. Cute blonde, not spoiled by tanning beds and silicone.

She talked about something with the bartender, leaning on the bar, putting on the public a strong ass of those who do not need to emphasize the mini skirts and draw attention to her by the antics on the dance floor. I did not see her chest, but judging by the bartender looking unnaturally into the eyes of the blonde, there was something “not to look at.”

We passed each other at the bar itself when she went to her table with two servings of ice cream. She really was gorgeous. Slim athletic waist, coupled with a high-breasted fervent third size killed on the spot. The bartender forgot about his wine glasses and wiped sweat from his forehead with a towel. The only thing that confused me was that the blonde was not alone. With her was a boy of seven. But the kid is not a husband, but the legal spouse was not observed in the cafe.

I felt in the pocket of the treasured jar. She probably became my talisman during the trip, because a great idea came to my mind. I went to the table, diligently giving my Mephistophelian smile a friendly look.

- Hello. As a connoisseur of ice cream, could not help but approach you. Tell me, what brand is worth trying in this cafe?

“Take a banana,” the lad responded instantly.

“Syom,” the blonde said.

“Hm ... I think you're right, buddy,” I played up to him. - And what do you think?

Do not look into the cut of a dress blonde really was a feat, poor bartender.

- In the choice of ice cream, trust the seeds. She ruffled his hair with a smile.

“So we will order three, no, six servings,” I raised my hand, beckoning the waiter.

- No no. I probably have enough for today.

- With your figure and worry in such trifles as an extra spoonful of ice cream ?, - I felt a trembling in my knees, like a hunter in a pen chain, it’s not clear only from what: from sharp cheekbones and sensual lips or because my plan was close to implement.

The blonde turned down, smiling embarrassed.

Half an hour later I already knew that her name was Nastya, and that her husband somewhere was eating pears, and a lot of unnecessary details that I missed by the ears. In the evening we agreed to meet on the beach. And it became a real challenge for me.

Those few days that took me the road and the first wave of resort frenzy, the man in me was dozing. But to sleep, when next to you is such a miracle, as Nastya was in her sky-blue bathing suit, is impossible.

She was chirping something cheerfully, pointing to her son building a sand castle, and in my head an old proven army count clicked, helping me to look at least externally assembled.

"Ten ... nine ... I put a hundred to one, her chest will remain as high when she removes her bra ... eight ... seven ... and you could put a glass of champagne on your stomach, and he not turned over ... six ... five ... four ... when she puts her neck in the sun ... three ... her throat is dry ... two ... one ... two ... three. .. "

Still, the test beach I endured. Nastya with admiration looked into my eyes and loudly laughed when I told her student stories. Syomka recognized me if not my father, then at least my elder brother, and dragged the shells, the crabs, then he called me to ride on the carousel.

At the attraction I started the implementation of my plan. The next morning, the three of us went to the park. The last in our plan was the Ferris wheel. Nastya, referring to the fear of heights, remained at the bottom, guarding things. Syomka and I got into the booth.

“You have a good mom,” I began from afar.

- Yeah, ...