With this crazy girl I met on the Internet completely by accident. I did not even show interest, just once she wrote to me in a personal note that she wanted to ride a bike with an overnight stay. She was attracted by the romance of travel: a bonfire under a starry sky, the sound of a river, the rustle of wings of night hunters in the middle of the black forest.
In those days, I studied at the institute, continuing the difficult work of coursework. It turned out that I had no opportunity to download the finished work from the network, simply because my topic was really relevant, therefore, new and not studied. However, I studied the issue with pleasure, absorbing knowledge of books in the Temple of Sciences, in the Lenin Library. Despite my protests, she persuaded me to meet. Hoping to cool her, I said that I spend most of my time reading the most boring books on the subject. What was my amazement when she immediately agreed to spend all day there with me. Persuasion did not work. The stories about the boring and silent reading rooms, boring books with yellow pages from old age, caused not a fake interest and the desire to be there as soon as possible. I gave up.

And so, we received a one-time pass for it, supplied it with literature, and began the sciences. The girl, despite my warnings and requests, quickly gave up reading and engaged in questions. I am not a big fan of conversation, but innate politeness did not allow rude conversation to be interrupted, I had to answer her, sometimes strange, questions. Finally, she realized that I was not at all interested in telling something about myself, moreover, she showed some respect for the diligence with which I made extracts from scientific papers, where icebergs float vague, too “smart” words.

Sometimes she went deep into her book, but soon she got tired of this activity, and she began to talk about herself. It seems that she needed a silent listener, or maybe not at all, because she did not expect answers from me, even nods, but continued her ladies' stories. I was even able to disconnect from her chatter, immersed in literature, but then she turned in a completely unexpected direction. Her plump, naturally scarlet lips began to bring to light the themes of an erotic nature. These warm words answered the lower abdomen. Her stories about how she would like to spend time in a tent in the fresh air, how nice it would be to surrender to the heat of the male body at the end of the day, dismayed me. The work went clumsily. Perhaps, I would have already postponed scientific work, if it had not been so tight on time, because I was trying to write something. Her chirping did not stop, I became the hero of her fictions. Fantasies ran from her round mouth straight to me. They began to envelop, climb under the T-shirt and languid, light touches to tease the body. The excitement of cold fog inside, pleasant tickling, nervous breathing, sweaty hands. In my head flashed - she went crazy ?!

Yes, perhaps I would write that I took her to the first toilet I did and did everything as it should, but your humble servant is too shy. And this shyness played a cruel joke. I became a hostage to my shyness, so I pretended to take her words as a joke, smiling stupidly, nervously leafing through books, sometimes even writing out something. Her sophisticated female mind, loving stories and fantasies, easily caught me through. Her pretty head with heavy, thick blond hair, bent slightly, the devil's light flashed in her eyes. She liked the game. And now she, sitting at a distance from me, without even touching me, launched the hand of her fantasies under my clothes, tirelessly teasing the most helpless place. She spoke in detail about the feelings of the guys when her thin, crystal fingers touch the tender, quivering flesh.How should squeeze and unclench hands, how should move them, how wet should be caress. It seems that at that moment the smoke came from me, I felt my cheeks burning, and there appeared a cooling moisture of desire.

The body trembled, as in the anticipation of the first time, when you can already have a girlfriend, but still do not give yourself this pleasure, sweetly languishing in anticipation. Her phantasmagoric web began to caress me indefinitely. She masturbated with consciousness, she did not stop for a second, seeing how my breath was getting off, a fresh smile of a gentle face was pleasantly emphasized by a red light in her eyes, which continued to flare up. She smiled, looking at my torment, which I cannot call torment, it was pleasure, pleasure that had no place, had no root, had nothing but words. The stream did not dry out, masturbating me and not touching at all, forcing passionately to lust, but without giving any opportunity to do so. The captivity of her abnormal fantasies bound me to the silence of the library, forbidding to move or say something in response. I was tied at first with silence, then with interest, now I just could not get up, because downstairs it was so incredibly hot and languid, and tender, and full. It seems, I began to overflow over the edge. At that moment I thought I needed a way out, anything, but I could not move, being bound by conventions. What a pleasure a woman gets by watching how easily a strong man falls into the trap of her words. Absolute power to do such things with me gave her an incredible pleasure!

And when I realized that I could not bear these sweet torments, she leaned towards me, slightly but very sensitively touched the only place, and I exploded with the praise of the Goddess of a fantastic word, bringing to the altar her glory exactly the gifts see in your honor. A pleasant pulsation relaxed my organs, my body fell into a soft abyss of pleasure and drowsy fatigue, the palms became cold and stopped trembling. I put my head in my hands, closed my eyes, barely flinching. Her whisper fluttered homework, - I'm sorry, how are you going to go home now?