“Oh, she,” he says. - Only there bows do not roll. And nothing to paint the lips. There everything is simple: there is a path, and there is an abyss. Are you afraid?

- Not!

- Then I wait tomorrow in full uniform. A backpack you will collect yourself, and then you will rack up bows.

We left.

Four days - no response, no greeting.

You have a break like wide: every half hour you go to the post office, to the contact, to Skype, update, wait, bite your lips ... You look at her photo - both old and fresh, and those cherished, where she is without everything with such small nipple horns, touching, like a child's ... Her tits are slender, first size, and her thighs are motherly, feminine, and I want to grab stronger ... And most importantly, she never showed you. I was ashamed, moved legs ...

And finally, - online!

Five minutes you burst either with joy, or with resentment, that you don’t write (you must first write, how else?), And you decide all the same to write to her, dishonest, - suddenly:

- Hi, my dear! I need to tell you so much! I'm a little sick here, so I can not speak, I will write, okay?

And he writes. Shy, but writes. At first it is foggy, with general such phrases, and then everything is more, more ...

“He was all so caring,” she tells you, “I didn't even expect it.” I thought I would do the test, well, and I was determined to prove to him that I was no worse than a boy. She refused to stop camps, from water, did not allow herself to give a pen, jumped over stones like a goat, and he - “not tired?”, “Not hard?”. Yeah, I think, do you expect the bows to burst in me? Well, wait a minute with me.

And did not notice how tired. So much so that neither hand nor foot.

And then pour a shower. That somehow immediately, suddenly. Thunder rumbles, lightning strikes almost at you. The road instantly limp, turned into a clay porridge - legs get stuck knee-deep, as in concrete, and you will pull out the figs. On the one hand, the rock is two hundred meters, on the other - the abyss of three hundred. You also move into it, and with your hands you cling to dirt, thorns, and a chief. Every step is a feat. Around pours, rumbles and sparkles like hell, the wind blows your face in the face, water is everywhere - from above and below, and behind your collar, and you're all wet, like a sponge, right up to the intestines, and dirt is also everywhere - on your feet , on your hands, even on your head, because it pours into your eyes and you wipe your forehead ...

The chief shouts something to me - about the fact that you need to go there and then, and wait there - but I do not understand anything, because there is not a bit of strength, everything aches, squishes, bursts of pain and cold; I understand only what is asking - “can you walk? very tired? "- and nod my head so that he did not understand that I was dead, even though it was so clear even a hedgehog ...

Then everything somehow mixed up, as in delirium. In my opinion, I fell, and successfully, with my head straight into the dirt, and lay, I could not get up (not because I had hurt myself, I just could not, and that was all), but he fussed about, dragging me through the dirt somewhere bag, then threw my backpack, hoisted me in my arms and carried. I could not resist, nor speak, but only squeaked, clinging to his jacket. He could easily break off with me, but somehow he managed - he dragged me to the rock that hung over the grass like a visor and fell under it with me, and I lay there and was surprised that the grass was dry.

Then he started grabbing my arms and legs and screaming - “do you feel?” —And I moaned like a cow because I didn’t feel anything and was terribly frightened. Then he began to undress me, and the section was bare, very, very, and began to slap me all, squeeze and rub, and I howled from terrible pain in my whole body. It was as if they were turning me outside.

Then it became hot, very hot, and every touch burned like an electric shock, and penetrated somewhere deep, into the very inside, and there spread liquid fire.

- I could not! I am not a boy! I could not, - I cried and roared, smearing tears mixed with dirt.

- You're a girl. My girl Girl, girl, girl, he murmured, squeezing me, and I went crazy with his hands.They were everywhere at once, they flew over me and crushed me like wax, beat, slapped and caressed me from head to toe. The body was sensitive, like ... as I do not know what; it was one solid nerve, sparkling with pain. It was painful, unbearable, blindingly painful; and I was suddenly terribly surprised when I realized with some scraps of consciousness that this pain is an orgasm, that I’m ending I know how much fucking, and that his hand is squishing between my legs, and I butt her pubic ...

Then I don’t remember anything because I fell asleep. I have never slept in such a dream — deaf as death.

I woke up from chills. For a long, long time, I could not understand where I was and what happened to me.

Then I felt scared and I screamed because I could not move. Somebody bound me hand and foot, and I thought that they took me for dead and buried me, and I woke up in a coffin.

Then I guessed to open my eyes.

I do not know how much time has passed, while I remembered what and how. I was in a sleeping bag. Nearby in the same bag lay the chef. For some reason, I was afraid that he was dead, and looked at him for a long time, until I was convinced that he was breathing.

It was dark, but not very. At first, I thought it was evening, but then somehow I realized that the night had passed and it was dawning. The rain was over, it was quiet and creepy, like on another planet. Silence rang, as it happens, if you feel dizzy, and at first I thought it was ringing in me, and then I realized that these were birds, thousands of birds from all sides, and that they screamed like madmen.

I froze to the bone and began to get out of the bag. It turned out to be terribly difficult and nasty - a bag of limes to the body, pulling and scratching. It seemed that I take it off with the skin. When I crawled out - it turned out that I was naked and dirty, like a pig. I was all in brown divorce, wet grass stuck to my body, my hair pulled off a crust. For ten minutes or more I tried to pick clay out of them, then I began to look for clothes and sneakers, I found it - but it all turned into lumps of sticky dirt, which was even disgusting to look at.

The earth was in stones, it was taunted to walk, but, in general, it was tolerable. I went out to the meadow, in the wet grass. There was some strange weakness and lightness in the whole body, as if I had just been born into the world. I felt in a new skin, like a werewolf. I walked through the meadow, soaking grass, air, bird cries all over, peeked over the edge of the slope, going into the mist - and turned to stone.

It was not just beautiful. It was impossible. This does not happen. People can't see that. Only beasts see this. I felt all this not only with my eyes, but also with my skin and with my whole body — the burning edge of the sky, the golden fire in the fog, blue and purple, and lead, and black, and purple mountains. I would not believe that there is beauty from which it hurts.

Everything was soaked with dew. I thought that I could wash a little, began to collect it with my hands and wash off the dirt. I sat down, then lay down ...

I don’t know how it happened, but I was rolling on the grass, like a beast, smeared with grass juice, screaming, sipping dew in my mouth ... It must have hurt because there were thorns and stones, but I didn’t feel pain, I didn’t I did not feel, except for the cry that rang in me and rushed out.

Then I suddenly saw him. Initially, not with the eyes - skin, from the back. Then she turned around.

He stood nearby, wet, dirty, in clothes. I got up to my full height. The breeze burned my skin, but I was not cold. I looked at him.

“Come here,” he ordered.

I came up - naked, drenched in dew. I already knew what would happen now, and I was not afraid. Or not - she was afraid, but not in the way people are afraid. I did not want to escape. It was just that I was scared that such a moment had come, and it cannot be avoided.

He took me by the shoulder, then touched TAM, thrust a finger inside — easily, as if he had done it many times.

- Fucked before? - he asked. I was not surprised that he said so rudely - it was impossible to do otherwise.

- Not.

- I know.

He began to touch me - to smear dew on me. My body was wet and cold, his palms were the same, but they were warmer due to friction, and I felt ... Read more →