road. If you want to go along with me - I will only be glad, - I said.

- Honestly?

Instead of answering, I leaned over to kiss her. Supple lips, swollen eyes, salty tracks of tears on the face, again lips. She, who at first simply stood, clinging to me, began to respond to kisses all with great fervor. I understood her impulse well, because I myself often went through it. Nature does not tolerate emptiness, and when, after some grief, you feel that an emptiness has formed in your soul, you need to fill it with something. Drinks, women, new impressions. Or you start simply howling with grief. So with her - the place that occupied her home, with the roots taken out of her heart, cried about filling. It doesn't matter what or who.

The world around us seemed to be falling apart into separate, isolated fragments. Her hot breath, interrupted by kisses. Flashing black leather under my touch. Our hands, eagerly exploring every part of the bodies of each other, as if to stop touching someone, it will dissolve like a hazy mist. We have long been thrown away, interfering with our clothes. We caressed each other hastily, as if every second allotted to us could be the last. I stopped, hanging over her, feeling a member of the entrance to her bosom.

- What will happen now? She asked

- Do not be afraid and try to relax. It may be a little painful, but then it will be pleasant, I promise, - I assured her, starting light, slow movements. A narrow slit that did not know a man tightly wrapped itself around me, causing a range of pleasant sensations. Only by an effort of will, I held back my desire to enter further, to fill it all with myself, to feel the pulsing walls of her flower shrink around her. Her hips were gently moving toward her, as if asking for a sequel. The thin strip of flesh inside her stretched out with every movement, sometimes making her face wrinkle, but remained an obstacle in my path. Feeling that she was already quite relaxed and moistened, I leaned forward more. Her lips tightened in a narrow line. I returned to the previous pace, giving her a break.

- Come on. “I'm not afraid,” she said softly, pulling her hands more tightly behind my back. A short push, the feeling of flesh yielding to pressure, a member envelops the walls of a narrow and damp tunnel, a sharp, but still seeming pleasant back pain from nails digging into the skin, a weak half-moan, half-sob. She clung to me with all her strength, as if striving to become one with me. We froze for a while, but soon her hips weakly, as if trying out new sensations, swung towards me. In response, I also began to move, gradually increasing speed and strength. From her lips again moans break down, but no longer pain, but growing pleasure. Her hot hollow is so narrow that pleasure seems, almost painfully sharp, with leaps and bounds approaching orgasm. The girl herself, in captivity of hitherto unexplored sensations, is already torn in the coming cramps of voluptuous oblivion. Unable to hold out first, I finished, pressing her to me, feeling like a seed, jerking outwards, overcoming compression and giving a dizzying pleasure in strength. Instinctively continuing movements, I felt a dragging feeling inside her, accompanied by unexpectedly strong contractions. Aya breathed loudly and, with a low moan, finished, trembling all over.

“Such a ... strange feeling,” she said, opening her eyes. “Strange, but very pleasant,” she finished with a smile.

“It will only get better next,” I said. “Who knows, maybe you will meet a man of your race when that happens.” It can not be that they did not exist.

She shrugged, probably realizing that her future was so vague and uncertain that there could be a place for everything.

What about my path - by some sixth sense, I understood that the end of the path was near. But before that, that was waiting for me beyond the flickering surface of the magical transition ...

Future will tell.