Written based on real events

—... Maybe the story of the Ladies of Camellias will soften your heart, Elena Ivanovna?

- I watch “Traviata” not the first time, Pyotr Petrovich.

- Well. It remains only to hope that the water wears away the stone ...

- You have a good comparison, Petr Petrovich! In your opinion, I am a stone, and the music of the great Verdi is water?

Petr Petrovich Skvortsov, a translator from the Romance languages, was returning from the theater with Elena Ivanovna Podbelskaya, the chief editor of Progress magazine.

Petr Petrovich was a typical Leningrad intellectual, right up to the obligatory "shafts" and a nose-nose; Elena Ivanovna - a stately, prim, still beautiful lady in a strict coat. Both were in their forties, both were single, both worked in the same place. In addition to the service, they were connected by a long-time friendship, which sometimes allowed them to have rather frank conversations that were impossible with other people. They were wooed by all who are not lazy, and this topic has long become a service anecdote that amused Pyotr Petrovich and Elena Ivanovna no less than their colleagues.

For some time now, they were also tied to a principled dispute: Petr Petrovich translated an Italian novel about a prostitute, and Elena Ivanovna, for ideological reasons, did not let him into the publication.

This dispute did not affect their friendship — they were both experienced enough to separate the personal and the public — but it gave it a certain sharpness, flavored with clever irony, which both of them were generous and stimulated their need for each other.

- You see, Elena Ivanovna, Dumas-son, along with the great and non-watery Verdi showed us that the courtesans, so to speak ...

- Petr Petrovich, you understand. There are people, or, say, social types, which can not be shown in a sympathetic way.

- And what about Sonia, let me ask you? Sonechka Marmeladova, eh?

- Dostoevsky died, you will not ask him. You do not understand, - continued Elena Ivanovna in a different tone, - you are a man, and you do not understand. Now you will say that I am for sexual inequality, and I will have nothing to say. Though not in the equality-inequality matter. Do you know what “taboo” is? The prostitute is a taboo. It is impossible. From this you need to protect, and this is my duty. So tells me not only my mind and my beliefs, but also my body, if you will. You do not have this female body tier, and you do not understand ...

- Why, I understand you.

Petr Petrovich lit up.

- I understand you. Every person has an experience that cannot be conveyed by words. Knowledge and beliefs form what we do, but the last word is precisely for experience. He gives the final color and knowledge, and beliefs and actions. Yes, you are right: prostitution is disgusting, and there can be no two answers.

He dragged on.

- But ...? - asked Elena Ivanovna.

- Yes. There is a "but", and I will probably tell you about it. Although this will have to, uh ... slightly push the boundaries of our "taboos". Otherwise I will be him.

- Well. I am no stranger to moving boundaries, as you know ... I am listening to you, Petr Petrovich.

- I am very grateful to you, Elena Ivanovna ... Damn it, you need to figure out how to start like this ... Uh, what is there! When I was at the front, I met one girl. Nurse My age mate, maybe a little older than me (and I was only eighteen then).

She came under the Mogilev encirclement, was dangerously wounded. Her lover died, as I heard. They patched her up for a long time, and in the end they patched up so that no flaws could be seen. Lively, brisk girl, besides beautiful, such, you know, a purely Slavic blond-red color, a bit with freckles ... But in fact, something in her was seriously spoiled. I do not know what, I do not understand this ... I only know that after being wounded she could not have children. Never. Her commissioned home, but she, like many, was looking for a reason to stay.

Everyone called her Lysenko. I heard her being called Lucy, but I don’t know the full name.Lyudmila, or maybe Love? It would be interesting if Love ...

Whether inside she had something broken, or there were some other reasons, but ... It seems that the girl suffered from what the doctors call "nymphomania." She really rushed at the men.

The cub never paid for its body. On the contrary, he gave it to one and all. For her, it was like a duty, or even ... do not consider it a blasphemy - as a military duty: to give pleasure to front-line soldiers left without female caress.

Apparently, the poor thing judged like this: “I cannot serve the Motherland like everyone else. And women's happiness is not available to me. So my duty is to give the front what I can give. I have nothing but my body. So I have to give the front my body. ”

It was not just debauchery. There was something holy, blissful in her - as she met the soldiers and enveloped them, wounded, dirty, gave them themselves without a trace - not only the body, but also the soul, as generous and crazy as the body. It was a ministry. Everyone understood this and treated her ... well, not at all in the way that women of this kind usually refer to. Without mock, without dirt - as a holy fool. With such kind condescension ... and gratefully, with great gratitude. Everyone willingly used her, absolutely everything, and she never refused to anyone, even if she was worn out like a horse. She had no pets ... or rather, she tried, apparently, to avoid them. All were equal for her - the glorious Soviet soldiers who needed her body and soul.

I don’t know how many men she had per day — maybe twenty, thirty, and maybe up to a hundred ...

I met her in the forty-fourth, in the hospital, where he lay with a trifling wound to the shoulder. More annoyance than misery: lie like a log and do not move. And around is done! ..

When they brought me, she was already there. She was taken to the state, and she worked as a nurse. Well, not “as it were,” but in fact worked: she did procedures for us, bandaged wounds and so on. But it was not the main thing she did. She was transferred, I heard, from some part, because there she is just ... well, you understand. And someone, apparently, had the idea that it could be put on a semi-official leg.

I remember seeing it for the first time. Everyone was delighted, rustled when she entered, and I thought - this is because she is so young, glorious, beautiful, with such kind eyes. There were no greasy jokes, everyone smiled at her like a sister. She came to this, did something there, corrected, and ...

I could not believe my eyes. At first, she just climbed over to each kiss and lick like a child. Then one began to feel it, piled it to himself, pulled off a white robe ... There was nothing under the bathrobe. And all this - with laughter, with jokes, as if nothing had happened. I remember how I became cold then ... She was terribly beautiful, slim, taut, with a bulk breast. She unbuttoned his pants and put it in her mouth, and she pulled out her ass ... Someone began to say “why is he? why not me? ”- no offense, jokingly ... Someone approached her — several“ walking ”wounded — began to feel her, stroke her ... Then one fell in behind. I lay like a stone and looked like a gentle beauty, whom I would like to read poetry or wander around the autumn park with her ... how she stands cancer, naked, and sucks Lesha, and the company Efimenko tears it up, and a number of pieces five fighters squeeze and lick her body like a big piece of cake. Forgive, for God's sake, for the vocabulary ...

Then she lifted up - the face is so red, contented - and she says: guys, let me have some more. The company has already fallen off of it, and another has already been attached. She went through the rows ... She sucked in her bed, and at that time someone was using her from behind. On some she climbed and jumped like a ball, and her breasts jumped with her, and her hair ... Closer, closer — and now she approached me.

- Guys, is this new? Why did not they say that we are new? Well, shame on you? What is your name? - She asked me, all pink, and such, you know - tenderness just drips, oozing out of sight ....