1. Music lover. Part 1
  2. Music lover. Part 2

Page: 1 of 3

1976, September Today, eighteen-year-old Seryozhka Skvortsov returned from vocational schools earlier than usual. No, he was not a truant and he was not a headwalker, but today he left the last two classes. Today was a special day. In the corridor, throwing the knapsack on the floor and hastily unwrapped, the young man hurried to the living room.

He ran up to the big, four-legged, old radio receiver and began to turn the knob, getting to the coveted frequency. He remembered these figures better than the multiplication table, on this frequency the Voice of America radio station banned in the Union. Catching the cherished frequencies, the young man flopped down on his knees, dreamily closed his eyes, tugging at his head in the rhythm of a wonderful, hitherto unseen music, isolating guitar chords, drumming and unusual, divine modulations of solo guitar from static noise. From the receiver, the song sounded a little-known, but well-known in narrow circles of a foreign rock band, and this group was ...

Skvortsov met with “Deep Pepl” quite by chance, having heard her a year ago at the birthday of his best friend, and from that moment the life of a simple Soviet boy from near Moscow region changed dramatically. He literally fell in love with this group, in all Western rock music, it was so different from what was broadcast by Soviet radio stations and what could be heard in local discos. This music showed through something new, hitherto unexplored, rebellious and innovative. After listening to all the recordings, kindly provided to him by his friend, Sergey went to Moscow and bought from his hands a record of the next, yet unknown to him, musical group, having believed the seller for the word, they say, this is exactly what is needed.

Discovering “Ice Zeppelin” for himself, Seryozhka began to buy, change, find and rewrite everything he could get to, without stopping to secretly listen to “a bad radio station.” Soon, Skvortsov already had an impressive record library, a collection consisting of no less than thirty reel tapes and ten vinyl records ... Not everyone shared the hobby of a Soviet schoolchild, especially his parents, Sergey himself, not paying attention to public censure, proudly called himself a music lover. ..

The doorbell led the guy out of divine nirvana. With a trembling hand, he turned off the receiver and decided that it was behind him, with a dull beating heart, Seryozhka hurried into the corridor. On the threshold stood his friend Vovka Strizhov, the very one at whose birth everything started, where Sergey turned into a “music lover”.

- Healthy, Starling, have you lost something from class? - Vovk said, passing into the apartment.
- Yes ... I do not know, just like that, - Sergey said with relief, stepping aside.
- Well, is there anyone in the house? The friend asked, lowering his voice.
“No, I'm alone ...” Skvortsov answered in surprise, closing the door.
“Well, let's go to the room,” said Strizhov conspiratorially, without taking off her shoes, walking into the living room, holding his knapsack in his hand ...

“Look what I have,” it is important, as if possessing some inconceivable wealth, Vovka said, flopping his pack on the table.

He opened and pulled out a magazine with a colorful bright cover from a stack of notebooks.

- Well, how? - smiling widely and a little embarrassed, he said, holding the magazine in his hands.

Seryozhka not without interest looked at the bright cover. He had a similar magazine, a long-haired young man on it, running probably around the stage, holding a guitar in his hands, in the background the drummer twisted his fingers in his fingers. Here everything was a little different.

Absolutely naked, unearthly beauty girl, lying on her side, appealingly dropping his knee and mouth open. With her fingers the girl was pushing something that Sergey had never even seen. Through divorced girlish fingers, surrounded by dark hair, something pink and incomprehensible appeared.She held her second palm on her chest, touching with her fingers a bright red nipple. However, Sergey also has not seen live maiden breast in his life.

- Well, eh? - With wide eyes repeated friend, putting the magazine on the table, and turned the page.

The other girl, kneeling, spread her buttocks with the fingers of both palms, showing the same pink and another hole, dark and also unexplored.

“Not bad ...” Starling held out respectfully, feeling pleasant and exciting tension in his groin.
- Do you want to pull? - asked comrade, making emphasis on the second word, and turned the page.
- What is it like? - did not understand Seryozhka.
- Well, imagine what you do with it this- said a friend, patting his fists, one over the other.
- Yes, I do not know ... No, probably, - Seryozhka replied embarrassed, and blushed.
“Well, you fool, okay,” Vovka answered quickly, shoving the magazine back into the satchel.

- And not a word to anyone about it, got it? - Strizhov pointed at the satchel, going to the door of the room, taking with him the wonder-magazine.
“No question,” Skvortsov hurried after his comrade ...

“Well, come on ... a music lover,” Vladimir said with a hint of irony, casually shook Seryozhkin’s hand and rushed down the stairs ...

Returning to the room and turning on the receiver again, Sergey sat down on the floor and closed his eyes. He was again not here ...

* * *

1977 summer

Graduation group walked in the park. Later in the evening, having broken up in pairs, graduates dispersed in alleys, who where. Left alone, staying in his thoughts, Seryozhka heard cautious footsteps behind him, turned around.

- And what do you miss this one? - said Lyubka Vorobeva, a blond, slightly plump girl from a nearby technical school, examining with interest the young man.

Lyuba was not the first beauty, but it was impossible to call her ugly. Green eyes, pronounced, already fully formed chest, strong hips and languid, penetrating into the very consciousness, voice.

“What a quiet you are, mad at the music of your shit…” the girl said sympathetically, taking Seryozhka by the hand, standing opposite him.
“She's not shitty,” muttered Skvortsov quietly, looking away.

Lyuba did not take her eyes off the young man, as if she wanted to enslave him, or if she saw him for the first time in her life. The cattle felt his face become covered with sweat, his hand was wetted, squeezed in a girl's hand. The girl played with her lips, moved her hand. With a little dismay, Skvortsov felt the fabric under his palm, glanced down - his palm, guided by the girl's hand, was already resting under Lyubkina's skirt.

“This is not your music,” the girl said playfully, pressing the starling's palm to the fabric of her panties.

Not seeing, but feeling strangely warm, Sergey made a timid attempt to free his hand, flushing to the roots of his hair. Lyubka pressed the young man’s palm tightly to her pubis, slightly sliding the elastic of her panties.

- What are you afraid of as a little? You think where have all gone, eh? - without releasing Seryozhkin's palm, the maiden, under the skirt, pulled her panties down, pressing Starling's fingers to her bare crotch.

Feeling silky, warm and lightly wet with pillows, Seryozhka held his breath, staring at the girl in dismay, as if asking her about something.

- This is better than your music, well? Touch it, don't be afraid, - the girl said in a changed voice, not letting go of Starling's hand, pushing it deeper into the panties.

Sergey felt with interest the moisture and something similar to two slices, hot and exciting.

- Like? I see what I like, ”added Lyubka, glancing at the swollen pants of her earrings.
- Well, let's go, - Vorobyov pulled out from under the skirt the palm of a young man and holding on to her, dragged the guy to the bushes.

Having driven Sergei over the acacia bushes, the maiden plopped down on her knees, dragging Starling behind her. She wrapped her arms around the neck of a young man, passionately pressed against him. Seryozhka felt the hot girl breath, felt the girl's lips next to his face.

- Do not worry, I am no longer a girl, - Lyubka dug into the lips of the young man, pushing him onto the grass.

With her whole body she pressed herself against Sergey, without opening her arms, without opening ...

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