That was a turning point not only for my whole country, but for me in particular.

The USSR has not existed for almost a year.

Growing up in the family of a submariner captain, mom-lawyer and elder brother of the “security officer”, I was not particularly worried that those events could somehow have a significant impact on my family.

The USSR "collapsed" - Russia appeared. Of course, I felt an inner alarm, and the sluggish collapse of vague plans for the future, but I did not worry too much about this.

Then I was almost a sixteen-year-old teenager, selfish, moderately arrogant with my personal baggage of complexes and high self-esteem. In addition, regular classes of synchronized swimming and dancing, as well as an abundance of “homework” in the lyceum, of which I graduated from nine classes practically with only five, did not give an opportunity to bother with politics and other nonsense for important people in power.

By the end of that school year, my head was jam-packed, as it turned out, with the knowledge, raging hormones and sexual fantasies that no one needed in adult life.

I really wanted to have sex. I don’t know how the boys have it, but I completely stopped growing my long fingernails because they interfered. Girls will understand me. The only place in our apartment where I could lock in without “suspicion” was the bathroom. So the water faucet, shower and side of the bath were my most loyal lovers from the age of ten. Lord, that I just did not get up, now even somehow ashamed of myself.

In the ninth grade, I probably got a boy.

Nice appearance. From a good family. Slim. Tall. Not brutal.

I enjoyed being with him. Imperceptibly touch it. We always, as if by chance, tried to sit down together. I pressed my thigh to his leg almost immediately. It was so cool to feel the warmth of another body. With boldness, we with mutual tacit consent stroked each other's legs, peepingly noticing whether anyone was looking at us. At recess, I constantly compromised him. Kicked up. Crank up. Forcing to run for themselves, grab and pinch. Jokingly, I struggled out of his arms, having had time to wipe all of him. I wanted to constantly keep his attention on me, because I knew. I knew that I have a competitor - a titted and zhopast snake. My friend, by the way.

I can not say that I especially suffered from a lack of attention from the opposite sex, rather the opposite. I would be frank, I was not beautiful, but very pretty. High. On an average heel, above almost all boys in a class. My indefinite light yellow-orange hair behaved badly when it grew long. Therefore, I always sported a haircut “like a boy” with the perfect parting “a la Hitler Jugent”.

I remember how terribly complex I was because of my chest. Of course, she was tightly hidden in her first-size bra and remained the smallest in class. Even a harmonious slimness and length of legs, in combination with a good ass, could not balance my sick Ego.

My elder brother, as an irregular warm-up, called him something like a soup set, sometimes reminded that a man needed to hold on to something. All this terribly enraged, right up to gnashing in the teeth. Although many of his friends liked me, and some so even very much.

The torment of my torments was also poured out by the realization that some of my classmates already regularly did “This,” in any case, were actively discussing the “strawberry” in the role of “more than once tried,” while never. Writhing was added by the fact that I really liked some of my classmates and especially my friends in sync. It was not some kind of deep sympathy in the classroom, or aesthetic pleasure from the contemplation of the naked bodies of the squads in the shower.I'm not talking about friendship. Not. I specifically experienced a strong sexual attraction, especially after performances, when I felt like sex on the adrenaline retreat. Desperately suffering from the “incorrectness” of my desires, I peeked at my partner, although in the synchronization group, in my anxious view, everyone was good, but this fox worried me the most. Of course I saw her naked. Slender, same tall, I will be honest, more beautiful. Pink nipples in freckles. Fiery-redhead pubis. What I just did not get up with her in my fantasies, desperately ashamed at the same time of my craving for women.

In general, I stopped up the next saddling of the side in the bathroom, screaming the throwings of my Puritan Soviet conscience, presenting him as a young man, then a girl, or do not understand anyone at all.

So I was an excellent student, fully confirming the statement about the still waters.

This happened on a biology elective. My “sighing angel” erased my “homework” compendium. I had a bad habit before the final assessment to draw a summary with a pencil, for which I paid.

So we both ended up after lessons alone in the "biologichesky" office. The lady she was agitated and vain, giving us a job to work out, she grabbed the magazine and ran away about her business. After reviewing my version, I realized that I already have it in the notes and immediately thought that I should probably catch up with the biologist and, having played on her absent-mindedness, say that I already have everything and can I go home .

A daily after-school routine awaited me at home: an early and late lunch, hurried fees and a trip to the pool. Sometimes to the English tutor. In the evening D / C. How did it all start to bother me ... One and the same for several years ... Then I looked at him. The warm May sun shone through the window, gently outlining its beautiful profile in gold. He worked intently, clearly analyzing what he wrote. And this combination of the beauty of a young man with the thoughtfulness of his face seemed very touching to me. I even admired him.

- What? - feeling my eyes, he looked up from the notes.

“Nothing ...” Without changing the expression on my face, I continued to look at him, admiring the golden glow in his clear blue eyes.

“Mmmm ...” He silenced meaningfully, looked at my legs in mustard velvet trousers and returned to the records.

“You are cool when you think,” I put my foot to him, quite usual, but always exciting.

“A charming compliment,” he smiled, moved closer to me, but did not interrupt the letter.

“It’s not a woman’s business to pay compliments,” I straightened the falling bangs and lay down on the desk, supporting my head with my hand, pressing my chest against the wooden surface. I openly looked at him. I generally liked to make people feel uncomfortable. This kind of psychological sport.

“Now you have a very ... ghm ... beautiful hairstyle ..." he looked up from the letter again, looked at me and gently touched my hair, and his hand visibly shook. It was so unexpectedly romantic.

- And what usually I do not have a beautiful hairstyle? - I pulled away, jerking, although I really liked his attempt.

- Oh, Olka, well, you and Egoza! - probably emboldened, he touched my face, ran the back of his fingers on his cheek, pinched a little on his chin, then put his hand on my shoulder, stroked a little, put it away, turned away and continued working with the outline.

Wow! I already, like boiling water poured over. So he did it and gently and so confidently. Involuntarily, I thought that he, too, already ... most likely had "It." I wonder with whom ...

Involuntarily, out of the corner of my eye, noticed how his fly moved. Sensibly broken, I quickly became excited. Having decided something for myself, I simply took and laid my hand on his leg. Immediately to the middle of his thigh, waiting for a reaction.

- Ol ... - he looked down the desk at my hand. - Why ... why are you doing this ... Why are you torturing me like this every time? - he smiled tightly, desperately trying to hide an erection.

He had such cool pants, pleasant to the touch ...