The best girl in the senior class - it is not easy to earn such a title, but I never chased him. Moreover, the number of nice guys who dare to come up, this only decreases, but the number of envious classmates doubles. But I didn’t do anything on purpose. I did not pretend not once. I just was the way I am.

Yes, I am a diligent student. Yes, I am executive. Yes, I am attentive to my parents. But is it bad? Yes, I have beautiful hair and the second size of the bra, but this is from my mother got, I'm not on purpose!

If mom comes late from work, then I help her not because I need to - I just can’t do it any other way. She is tired, you need to give her the opportunity to relax. Here, for example, I myself stroked the laundry and lay it on the shelves. Here is my mother's blouse for work, as always, snow-white. Mom treats things so carefully. This blouse should be ironed very carefully, and then put mom on the shelf.

This is my skirt. Mom made it for me myself a year ago for my birthday - she is so caring! I quickly walk along the skirt and put it on my shelf. So, father's pants and socks do not need to iron, just put on the shelf. I remember how my mother brought these socks from somewhere. Baltic - in the whole city no one has such. A pleasant dark green shade and a strict checkered pattern. I was very proud that my father wore such socks. Stupid right

I wonder how many people consider me stupid? Well, at least just envy? All the girls in school for sure. Half the boys. Well, who else? Maybe someone, if he doesn’t consider me stupid, certainly treats me condescendingly. Cute girl, where do you study? You will jump out married and you will sit at home. Rrrr! It annoys it even. And most importantly, in the whole city there is no loved one, so that at least just understand me. The best friend from fourth grade, and she left.

But sometimes I amuse myself with thought, looking down on everyone and understanding how everyone considers me to be an empty and good girl. They do not know. I'm not so good at all! Or rather ... not at all good.

***

The black Volga stopped noiselessly two blocks from the school. I noticed her silhouette as I walked down the familiar lane home. Turned around: no one. Oh, even a pity! If only someone had noticed at least once. Okay, let them continue to consider me a good boy.

His car smelled differently, not like other machines. Not that I was often ridden by car. Not at all, but I was well aware of the usual smell of the cabin: like at the factory.

He had a delicate scent that tickled his nostrils. Or did I invent this for myself? In any case, when he slammed the door and I was alone with him in the car, literally goose bumps began to run over my skin.

- How are you?

- Nothing.

- Does it hurt yet?

- No, it's better.

“You just have to get used to it, you know.” You'll like it.

I hesitated with the answer, then admitted:

- I was fine. I ... I didn't even think.

He turned and looked me straight in the eyes. And again I began to dissolve and melt, as if flowing down sticky, viscous and viscous. As when I felt this look for the first time. God, did one girl from the whole school feel this look on herself!

- See a woman?

He pointed to the figure of a woman walking along the house along the avenue.

- Do you think she did at least once in your life what you did?

- I think no.

- Exactly! In the whole city, I give you my word, in the whole of our city, women who can do what you have tried can be counted on the fingers. Well, not counting the cheap whores with Zavodskoy. But they are from another world.

He knew. He knew how to hook me! We just sat in the car and talked, and

I had already chilled chills. There was a rush of blood in the lower abdomen, and this made it warm and pinch in the place where there was a burning pain a week ago.

His voice was quiet and calm. He continued:

- You went further than it should. Further than any girl should have, even like you. And I see that you are afraid. So?

He gently touched my cheek. He ran it further, behind the ear. Launched a hand into my hair. He leaned toward me and covered my lips with a long kiss. I felt his tongue, so soft and smooth. He slid over my lips. I melted away electricity between us. My eyes are covered. He pulled me lightly by the hair. Ay! I threw back my head, obeying his will. I felt his tongue slide in my mouth, as if checking every corner. And then I felt how his palm lay on my panties, climbing under the hem of the dress. And I turned off.

He stroked my bare knee while I came to my senses.

“You know how a good girl is different from a whore?” A good girl likes to feel vulnerable. She feeds on this feeling. A slut anyway. You are a very good girl. And you really like to feel vulnerable.

He continued stroking his knee.

- Do you know what the trouble is all good girls? The fact that good boys protect them without letting them feel vulnerable. If she chooses a bad boy, then he makes her vulnerable. And she does not need it. She needs to feel vulnerable and not be her. Feel the difference?

I nodded.

- This is all the complexity. To make her feel vulnerable, while doing everything to protect herself from the devastating consequences. This is a subtle game. And very few people manage to play it really well.

It seemed to me that he sees through me and that he can see even what is not available to me. I listened and saw in him a teacher, a doctor, a mentor and the Lord God in one person.

***

Zavodskaya Street in the evening was not the best place for walking. We sat down with him on a shabby wooden bench. There was no one on the street, but it was still scary: even just being in the area it was unpleasant to breathe. The smell of smoke and alcohol seemed to be firmly absorbed into the air.

My left hand was clenched into a cam. Tight tight. It seemed to me that if I opened my fingers at least a little, then the white fabric of my panties clamped in it would become so visible that everyone who wanted would fly at me like kites from all around. Without panties it was cold and unpleasant. I tried to sit so that my bare buttocks did not touch the dirty bench, but fit on the hem of my dress under me. And yes, I felt vulnerable.

- Do you like her taste? - He asked.

I hesitated before answering:

- He is different, unusual.

- Not. He is just unpleasant. And you like it unpleasant. And this is exactly the pleasure for you.

He continued:

- Every man smells differently. And the taste of each man is different. You still do not know this, but when you understand, you will feel that it is in the taste of sperm that makes it so.

I was silent. My lips were clenched and I quivered with chills.

- Spread them.

He pointed to my clenched knees. I shook my head.

- Look, no one will notice that you did it. Just set them apart so that your knees do not touch, and that you can push three of my fingers between them. Like this.

And she just put my knees apart, putting her fingers between them. I dutifully succumbed.

- I’ll get up now, get in the car and drive off not far - there, see? You will stay here. You will sit and feel what it is like to be vulnerable. I want you to feel this taste entirely. Do you understand? Do not worry, I will be there all the time and will follow you. As soon as you feel you need me, stretch your legs. I will notice this gesture and in a second my car will be here. OK, sweetheart?

“I ... I'm not sure I can.”

- You're scared?

- Yes.

- Look at me, you can refuse it right now and we will just leave. Just raise your right leg ...