Bus tours exhaust even experienced tour performers, where there is a group of young musicians who are still not really sniffing all the charms of touring life. That is why, whenever night fell outside the bus window, the whole noisy crowd subsided at once: young people and girls closed their eyes one after another, leaned back in their chairs and dozed in anticipation of arriving at another hotel.

You never slept at these moments: having a little eyes closed, you always secretly looked at her. The headlights of oncoming cars for a moment illuminated her elegant profile, the silhouette of her lips, covered eyelids, a beautiful line of eyebrows, a little hairstyle creased by evening. The car rushed past, again plunging the interior of the bus into the darkness, and all you had to do was to reproduce in memory these beautiful outlines and fight the rebellious erection.

***

When you first saw a new assistant conductor at the bus station, she didn’t get your attention. And how can an adult aunt-musician from the theater be interested in a schoolboy? There are a million of them in the music school, and all are too strict. Elena Arkadyevna was also strict, but in moderation: communication with her was reduced to “thank you” and “please” when distributing instruments and scores. Outside of concerts and rehearsals, she tried not to spend time with the musical group, preferring to sneak into the city for souvenirs.

That day, at first, it was little different from the others: a rehearsal, a short tour of the center of another touring town, then the guys jumped into McDonalds for a snack, and you stayed outside because you were not hungry and wanted to be alone. Referring to the tourist booklet in your hand, you found a church with a bell tower, on which there is supposedly an observation deck - right behind the central park. Yeah, and the sharp dome of the bell tower over the trees. Immersed in your thoughts, you slowly walked through the park.

The familiar silhouette brought you out of your thought - Elena Arkadyevna stood at the kiosk near the church and studied the cost of tickets. Embarrassed nodding, you stopped next to her. She had only large bills, so she paid immediately for two tickets to the bell tower. She refused to take money from you for your ticket.

Pulling the iron-drenched church door onto you, you miss Elena Arkadyevna forward. She steps on a narrow spiral staircase, you follow her, and for some time you silently climb the frayed steps, trying not to stumble. You look at her light sandals, at the elastic calves of her legs and generally at her slim legs, and involuntarily lagging behind her so that she goes forward and her legs are better visible from under the light summer dress.

It seemed to flush this edge of her dress a little higher, and you will see her panties under him. This thought stirs you: you look more insistent, fascinated by the opened view of the slender legs of a woman walking in front of you. But the staircase suddenly ends and you are left alone on the observation deck. Elena Arkadyevna smiles - it turns out she is very sweet, and her smile attracts the eye. You shyly averts your eyes and gazes into the distance, admiring the city spread out below.

Down the stairs you went first. Deftly ran up the stairs, stopped at the very bottom of the stairs and began, as it were, to just wait for her to descend. Your heart sank when her cream sandals first showed up, then her knees, then the fluttering hem of a soft blue dress: her tanned thighs were constantly showing from under the hem in the inviting depth under the dress. When you came to your senses, you tried to look away, but your eyes linger at the level of her chest. Heavy and very gentle-looking chest swayed under the dress in time with Elena Arkadyevna’s steps. And when you came out of the narrow door of the bell tower, you diligently tried to hide an erection.

You suddenly began to like the way Elena Arkadyevna moves, as she says. Meanwhile, she offered to go to a cafe and drink a cup of tea.At a pedestrian crossing, it was as if you accidentally touched her hand, and then for a long time with pleasure you remembered the sensation of tenderness from touching her skin.

You now liked everything about her: how she smiled at you when you handed her the cup. How she patted you on the shoulder when she thanked you for the photo you took on her camera. Then there was the smell of green foliage on the street, a sip of wine in an open restaurant, a feeling of lightness in the head, the smell of foliage, a breeze blowing over her face, her bright eyes glowing with a smile, a sip of wine, a gentle touch of her lips, a quiet shady alley, the light of the torches turned on. She is getting closer and closer, the smell of her warm delicate skin, open neckline, lipstick on her lips, a kiss. Heart beats, eyes look in the eyes, a kiss ... Oh, how nice it is, how her chest presses against your ... Kiss again ...

Then a long awkward silence. Awkward words. Slowly, step by step, you are all in the blink of a hotel. And I want to escape, and afraid to go there. And finally, her words: “You were very nice. “It became easier, but not for long. You are in your room. Friends sleep in their beds, and you do not even undressed: and you lie on the bed, agitated with torments of conscience. The irresistible desire leaves you no chance to calmly forget what happened, because you have never been so close to a woman.

The nightly chill lures you into the street. You are standing in the dark of the southern night and only dim light from the porch of the hotel illuminates the foliage of the garden. The door creaks in silence: it turns out that Elena Arkadyevna cannot sleep either. You see the familiar cream shoes and soft blue dress, and your heart is ready to jump out of your chest. Your eyes eagerly feel the elegant female silhouette: waist, chest, thighs, eyes, lips, again chest, hips, hair.

And she notices you immediately. After standing indecisively one moment, she takes several steps forward. You hear how the leaves rustle under her feet, then you catch her breath, then you feel the warmth of her skin very near. You feel rather than see: she is here, so close that she almost touches your t-shirt with her breasts. Your heart is pounding like a hammer.

- Swear that you never tell anyone! - she whispers.

This request sounds a little childish, but you answer very seriously. Your lips are even dry with excitement:

- I swear!

She hugs you, snuggling up, and you sink into kisses: her tongue plays in your mouth, becoming tender and tender, then sharp and elastic. You want to catch him in order to suck his tip a little, but she deftly leads him away, running them through your lips, now through your tongue and palate.

Her breasts are pleasantly pressed to your lean body, you feel their soft roundness through the fabric, as if they flow around you a little. You are very excited, but you do not dare to touch her with the lower abdomen until she does it herself: she hugs you around the waist and holds you tight. You feel how hot the trunk of your penis is pressing down on the delicate skin of the female hips.

Groans, kisses, hugs, movements of the hips. Tenderness and warmth, caress and softness. You suddenly became wet in your underpants, and your head started to ring with a sudden tide of pleasure: the woman did not immediately guess what happened, and still pressed into you with her whole body. And only when she heard your involuntary moan, she understood everything. Eagerly grabbed your palm, pressed it to the lower abdomen, plunging between their thighs, so that the hem of the dress was crumpled between her legs.

She rhythmically moved her hips, holding your hand down there. Her eyes were moistened, she seemed to cry softly. Under the fabric of the dress and shorts you felt hot, soft as a biscuit body, as if very wet. Then she gasped, breathed often, often, shrank all ... and everything.

You could not sleep until you helped yourself with your hand under the blanket in your room.

***

It now remains two days before the end of the tour. And for all these days you have never said a word, you were not in the photo next to you and you didn’t look into each other’s eyes. You just have to slyly admire this woman, the most desired in the world.

Poor him.