July. The sun melts the heavens to the color of faded jeans, burns bricks to faint reflections, drinks green foliage in parchment, dries asphalt into dust. The sun makes us sweat and those minimal clothes that we can afford. Roasted, roasted girls go to meet - with flowing white hair, in disappearing skirts, in sweat-darkened tops, with amazingly clear-nipples and areolas, because what kind of underwear does it have? They are tired of the heat. They would sit in a wicker chair in the shade of palm trees and suck a multicolored cocktail through a straw, but they need it, and their faces arouse awe: with such people go not to Universities for bikinis, but to attack the fascists.

And suddenly she rushes to meet me.

I trudged from work, tired of work and boss; under the weight of the scorching sunlight, I hunched over and stared at the faded asphalt a meter in front of me - otherwise it’s very bright to my eyes, even though the day is getting closer to evening. Therefore, at first I saw shabby low-heeled sandals. Unbearably golden in the sun, they flowed into long chocolate legs, insanely slender, smooth, chiseled, not an ounce of cellulite. Stretching their shins elastically, their legs flowed into the popliteal cups and stretched with strict hips to the fringe of denim shorts, barely covering the plump pubis.

Frightened, I stopped, staring into her face. The correct heart, framed by dark honey-colored hair that flowed down to the waist, fluffy brown eyes, a small straight nose, and the lips are plump are just a little more than the one accepted. She smiled ... No, not true. At that moment I did not pay attention to the smile, I hatched on her chest. Where there is coffee drunk after the duty - my heart watered two hundred per minute just now, at the sight of flesh sticking out of the orange T-shirt: round, dull, flowing into an amazing hollow. The t-shirt stretched across the magnificence of the distorted inscription: “Feel our good!”

Oh, yes, I really wanted to feel this good - with my hands, and better with my mouth, and even better with my dick.

There was a transparent donation box dangling around the girl’s neck, far ahead of the phenomenal bust.

Seeing the box, I slowed down.

Seeing me staring at her breasts, the girl turned away at all and walked away.

Sighing and swearing, he walked dejectedly to the subway. She is behind, in some meters, with legs and breasts! And full lips. Ready to talk because it's her job; after all, she will not be able to leave the conversation - she needs to collect "good".

I turned around and awkwardly pretended that I urgently needed back down the street. A volunteer pestered a couple. The white-haired nipple indignantly inflated the nostrils and pulled the stern guy (his face froze with a mask with oblique eyes to the side) somewhere away from the dream. Go, go! My!

I slowly went to the volunteer, trying to catch her eyes, but she carefully turned away. Her stunning boobs swaying on the go, round butt, covered with grated jeans, spun invitingly. Why not for me ?! I straightened my shoulders and pulled out my chin!

But how can you be interested in me, so concerned about her breasts?

But how can you pass by her, the proud bearer of such a breast ?!

And why is it so embarrassing to speak? ..

I passed, almost hitting the girl with my shoulder, my puffing threw a curl on her cheek. The girl did not bother me and half-eyed. Passed each other. The end is final. Huddled, I wandered into the subway. And suddenly he remembered: “She doesn't know how cool you are!” - said one day my friend. - Have pity the fool. Give her a chance. ”

His advice has repeatedly proved its worth, even with more arrogant persons. I resolutely went back. Yes, she is unhappy with my attention to her breasts; and she understood correctly, - but I will give her a chance to get me closer.

The girl looked up, and her gaze was professionally joyous, although I almost stepped on her shoes.The smile was charming and even natural - backed by the puddle of full lips, filled with apples of cheeks, radiant sincere eyes and tender flesh golden from tanning that propped up her chin from below. My heart ached languorously.

Preparing a very original first phrase, in order to bind me immediately with an interest to myself, an extraordinary one, I broke off again - nothing came into my head. Therefore, I started with the dumbest one:

- What are you collecting?

- Honey. equipment for the orphanage of Maslyaninsky district, - she reported.

Immediately, I began to embarrassly poke a hundred-dollar bill into the slot of the transparent box, burning my eyes with an orange T-shirt stretched across a bulky chest. I think I noticed the buttons of the papillae, which slightly lifted the fabric ...

- Children are not sorry - muttered meanwhile. - And the equipment probably needs a lot?

- You have no idea! - said the girl and firmly pulled out her chest, the movement caught my weave. I easily opened my fingers and looked into her eyes. The girl smiled at me so sincerely that I didn’t even want to think about the refined sales looks. Oh, how good she is! Oh, how much interest and playfulness in her eyes, that they are looking at me this minute ...

(where was this interest a minute ago?)

I smiled happily at her back:

- Then I will add. What is your chest size?

- What?!

“I want to donate as many hundreds of pieces of paper as your breast size,” said the beer, which I drank on my way home from work. The sun has sunk him, otherwise he would not have dared. However, we had nothing to lose with the beer.

- Eighth! - mischievously smiled girl, even more profitable vypeviv bust.

- You're lying, the fifth!

- Sixth!

I myself see that the sixth, weave a pity.

- Prove it!

- Opanki! - she was taken aback, even glanced away.

“Well, you know that you have a sixth,” I tempted. - What do you have to lose? The kids are waiting for your decision.

- Well, let's call a friend, she will confirm, - sisyktik laughed.

Would be disgusted, would have already sent, right?

- Why do we need a blacksmith? Evidence at you, here and present!

For a second, she looked into my eyes with some very strict, studying look, then her lips, sticky with pink luster, deliberately sensually pronounced:

“I don’t even know ... Do you need proofs right here?”

“We follow the garages,” I suggested, not believing in my happiness.

The girl’s full lips were touched by a contemptuous grimace, her eyes were dull. I think I messed up. In one sentence!

- Joke. There, in the square, there are very cozy benches.

She looked at me again, then suddenly relaxed and said:

- Okay, let's go.

This does not happen! But the girl stepped up to the aisle between the houses (it looks like she knew that square perfectly) and looked at me in bewilderment over her shoulder. Having swallowed, I caught up with her and, not daring to offer a hand, began to tell my best jokes, vulgar of course. The girl obediently laughed, and I frantically imagined how her boyfriends jumped out of the bushes and beat my face.

In the public garden we found a lonely curtain-covered lonely corner where only tall, sun-glowing windows of the surrounding houses could see us.

- Prove it! - I ordered, devouring with my eyes the fabric stretched on the boobs. Stretched out, the orange fabric became almost white, through which a convex bra pattern emerged.

The girl grinned, turned away, and languidly lifted her T-shirt, revealing a narrow, tanned back with a touching dotted spine. Snow-white flashed silk bra straps. Continuing to slyly smile over her shoulder, the girl suggested:

- There should be a label. Read it.

That's all, and you rolled the lip ...

Well, okay! I will still remember this day all my life.

Going up close, plunging into the flower smell of her hair, he felt the label with trembling fingers, turned it out. Gleefully read:

- "E".

Could not resist, dived into her silky, fragrant hairstyle, touched the back of his head with his lips.

“There should be an“ F, ”the girl said in a dazed voice, but she did not move away.

- But there is an "E" ...