Anyway, now every time the girls were whispering behind my back, I felt at ease. I was both ashamed and hurt at the same time. The boys, too, soon found out about it. Still, not only we watch porn with Mishka. I was jokingly called the “porn star guy.”

A year has passed, the rumors melted into the air, and everything was left behind. I graduated from university, began to work as a translator. Mishka went to Moscow, deciding that the work in his specialty is not his. We talked on the phone, met a couple of times on holidays with mutual friends.

When I was called to a meeting of our group, a year after graduation from the university, I gladly agreed. The bear also came, with a beautiful lady, in which I was surprised to recognize our star Anya. She happily waved to me and grinned. Mishka smiled as if he won a million in the lottery. To some extent it was so. Mishka fell in love with a girl from an adult movie who just recently sat at the next desk. I fell in love, went to look for her in Moscow, and apparently found it. They have been married for half a year. Anya is still removed, and has become quite popular, in narrow circles. And Mishka became the director. Yes, yes, just like that, he is now shooting his wife. “That's how it is guys,” I said, taking a big sip from my mug. Our company began to make noises at once. Someone was laughing, someone was clapping sympathetically on the shoulder, and I was sitting and smiling. Ah, it was a good time!

11. ROMAN HOLIDAYS

In the only novel by the master of the short story by O. Henry “Kings and Cabbage” there is everything, except for two things: there are no kings and cabbage. Following this logic, I called the essay about my business vacation to Europe “Roman Holiday” (forgive me Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck). In order not to bother readers with all the vicissitudes of this truly unique trip, let me dwell on only a few episodes from this voyage: within the framework of the conditions of a fun contest and the specifics of the site as a whole.

... We moved along the highway of Hungary and when a sign appeared on the side of the street with a meaningless set of letters “Hajdúböszörmény” (HEIDUBESERMEN), we turned off the road and stopped in front of the building with the inscription CastrumTermalCamping - our stop in this amazing country.

"CastrumTermalCamping" - this is the ground. Zombies from all over the world come to warm their bones in thermal springs, the temperature of which is always constant: 37 degrees of heat. Blue water pools, aquagorks, top-level service - we stayed there for four days.

In the morning the sun came out, and after him from the trailers and trailers, tents and campers, tombs and graves, gray-haired remains of all types and stripes came out: foreign relics crept to a warm mineral spring, giving strength and youth. Along the edge of the pool, shadows shrouded in shroud and bathrobes, mounds of loose flesh floated sadly in brackish water. Not everyone who got under the powerful jets of the massage shower managed to survive: some were smashed to dust. I walked between them, sometimes lazily plunging into jets of water or thermal bubbles. The mask of a bored millionaire involuntarily crawled onto the face of the face ... When else, for example, would I have to move down the slide into the shining blue of the pool?

Once, however, I have already experienced a similar attraction for strength - at a water park hotel near Moscow, and, for adrenaline, with my back to the front. Deciding to repeat the feat of Hercules, I climbed up, resolutely pushed the little boy, picking somewhere in the face, and, playfully winking at some gray girl in a bikini standing on the ground (later it turned out that it was a statue), threw himself backwards along with streams of water ...I still did not understand at what point it happened, but my body proudly went into the clear waters of the pool with its bare ass, and the smelting traitorously hung on the edge of the pipe I had just left. Since the difference between me and Rocco Sifredi was too obvious, there was nothing for me to do but how stupid it was to giggle trying to break the part of the men's room with my hand (the second was hiding somewhere in the folds of the stomach). Thanks to the sun - the red tan on my face successfully hid my confusion ...

No matter how long this bliss lasts (I mean thermal springs, not my perversions in a drainpipe), the inevitable end comes to everything. On the last day of stay on vacation, my eyes again came across the ill-fated attraction. I decided once again to test the fate of this drift pipe: the bad head does not give rest to my legs. This time I sat down like normal people - facing the sun, and drove off. In the middle of the road, it seemed to me too banal, and I lay down on my back ... and remained lying inside the attraction. Water resolutely refused to wash my untrained body down. “Oh, you old perdola,” I thought, pulling my hands over the edges of the pipe, like a patient in a wheelchair, sliding to the finish line. Zombies all over the world came to life: they arrived in their regiment. Only one circumstance calmed me down: after all, I’m not a bad guy: I would ... I would be washed away a long time ago.

... On the Black Sea of ​​Romania there was something to do and what to see. On girls and women from around the world, for example. It was difficult for me, the dense banderlog, to emerge from under the Russian cabinet, to adapt to what was happening: many were resting topless. I got used to men quickly: I only flaunted in swimming trunks, but the kind of feminine charms, at ease, paraded, first confused me. If any lady, very balzakovskogo age, showed a complete lack of complexes, it did not bother me: I just tried not to look in her direction. Her attractiveness lay within the boundaries between surprise and pity, and with a bias in the last direction. But besides the living exhibits of the kunstkamera, there were also younger specimens.

Once, while catching a long shrimp net at the pier, a black-haired nymph, about twenty-two years old, naked to the waist, came to me right in the sea. One could only guess if something was on her below the navel: the waves draped the curves of her maiden body. She said something to me in her chest voice, pointed to a plastic bottle with three shrimps, which I held tightly in my hand, and smiled bewitchingly.

“Shrimps,” I said chokingly, trying my best to look into her eyes. My view all the time crawled on its roundness, covered with droplets of water. She came closer, looking curiously through the bottle at the shrimp, which was chaotically tossing (as well as my thoughts), and pressed lightly against my chest. She peered into the bottle of prey, and I could feel her hot breath on my neck: it smelled like sea freshness and boiled corn. Something big and long began to sway under the water: it was a net with which I frantically tried to find a foothold.

“Fishing,” I muttered hoarsely. She nodded and happily laughed ... My imagination was interrupted by a hairy Romanian, who suddenly emerged from the sea at a distance of a blow. He looked sternly at me. I immediately grabbed my feet into the nearest stone at the bottom and swung busily on the waves, like an alga, aiming the net at the pier. When I turned with loot - the girl was no longer around. The stern Romanian led her into the foamy distance, she looked around and smiled at me ... The sparkles flew from her dark eyes and with a slight hiss were extinguished in the indifferent waves of the Black Sea ...

Once, wandering along the coast in search of an interesting nature for a memorable photo, my mother and I wandered onto a nudist beach. When we noticed it, it was too late: everywhere, in the most unconstrained poses, naked women and naked men were standing, sitting and lying. It was absurd to flee, I didn’t want to undress either - and we behaved the same way, not even speaking: we began not listening, interrupting each other, talking animatedly about something, gesticulating desperately.Carefully looking into each other's eyes, as if we saw each other for the first time after a long separation, we enthusiastically talked about something, periodically asking each other: has it not finally ended Read more →