My porch has a small concrete bed in which flowers never grew, but there were always a lot of cigarette butts lying around. A sort of big ashtray, in the middle of which, with a caring hand, a dry poplar branch was stuck in someone's caring hand into the cracked earth. Presumably, for beauty ... And today, returning home at half past midnight, I noticed from afar that on this bed in the midst of all this magnificence, in the dim light of a lonely street lamp, there is a kind of limp body. This body was obviously female and of a rather dense constitution.

I stepped closer, clanking the keys. Well, of course, who else can it be, except for the neighbor on top, or to be more precise, from the second floor. In addition to her, in our stairwell, owners of such rounded shapes are not observed. Yes, and live in it, again, except for her, or just soplyuhi, or old ladies old years.

Strangely, I had never seen a drunk before, but now the atmosphere around her was filled with alcoholic vapors.

I didn't even know her name. She and her husband moved to our house a little more than six months ago, both a little older than me, about forty years old. For all the time that they live here, I have seen her ten times, not more. Greet even less. And always when we met at the porch or near it, she carried herself proudly and with her chin raised high to the sky. Like her hubby. Therefore, I was a little surprised now, seeing her in such a state.

I squatted in front of her. She sat with her legs wide apart in jeans, her elbows resting on her knees and head down. Under her arm, she pressed her leather handbag to herself.

- Ku-ku, is everything normal with you? - I asked, trying to look into her face. Peep did not work, his face was covered with brown hair.

Yes, I somehow care ... Sits and sits. Let him continue to sit, with a green snake to be friends should be smaller. I got up, opened the entrance door to the entrance with a key, and was about to step inside as she lifted her head.

- Oooh, healthy! - Vyaknula she started moving.

The bag slipped from under her arm and slammed onto the asphalt. From her phone flew and some other small women's personal belongings.

- Fuck ... - Neighbor neighbor commented on this event and reached out to pick up the scattered accessories.

I helped her to collect everything, handed the phone to her, she threw it back into the bag, which she pressed again to her.

- What are you sitting here? - I asked, sitting down next to her

“Tanning,” she giggled.

- It is harmful to sunbathe sitting on cold concrete, children will not. And I'll be impotent here with you. - I said. She giggled again. - Go home, I walk you to the door.

She sniffed, moaned something inarticulate. The only thing that was clear was that she was not going home. And figs with her, her business. I generally go to work and want to sleep. I have a good mood due to the fact that the weekend is ahead and not as cold as it could be at this time of year. And messing with an unfamiliar drunken woman in general was not part of my plans.

“As you wish,” I said, and got up.

He opened the door again and almost went in again, as he heard her voice again:

- What is your name?

- Andrew my name is. - I turned to her, holding the door back. - Well, you go, no?

- Not.

Her voice had become strange, as if she were crying now. He wanted to leave, but for some reason he did not leave. Sorry for her was. Squatted down again.

“Maybe you can't get home?” Keys forgot?

“Why are you bothering me with this house?” - a neighbor hissed drunkenly at me. - She said, I will not go!

- So you will sit here? You freeze, October in the yard. - I looked at her. Dressed not for the weather. Jeans, some boots on a low heel, a blouse of blue color which was bursting with rather big sizes a breast. - Okay, your business ...

I tried to enter the porch for the third time, as I heard her words again:

- And you invite me to yourself!

And sits, smirks.She took out a cigarette, put it in her mouth, now she is looking for a lighter in her bag.

“Well, let's go,” I said.

She waved a hand, no longer grinning.

- I joked. Come on.

I took out a cigarette lighter, struck a wheel on the flint, raised a light to the tip of her cigarette, shielding it from the wind with my palm. His eyes lingered on her breasts.

- Come on, let's go, - I took her hand and pulled her over, helping her up.

On her feet she stood not too firmly, but she did not fall. I opened the door for the fourth time and pulled it along. She walked without resisting or pulling out her hand from me. I asked only:

- Where are you dragging?

- Home to yourself. You wanted, here we go.

Releasing her hand, I missed the lady forward, gently nudging with my palm in the back. As I opened my door, she stood with her back against the access wall, and watched my key manipulations. She looked very serious, as serious as a drunk man could be. I opened the door:

- I beg!

She pushed her back from the wall, snickered something under her breath, and went into the apartment. I followed, not forgetting to check out her back side. The neighbor belonged to the type of women who cannot be called a bad word - “fat”, because all the fullness was located in the right places. Definitely, these rounded buttocks, now covered with denim, I liked.

- Sit down there, take off your shoes, - I waved my hand in the direction of a small padded stool in the hallway. - You can immediately throw the bag. Do not be afraid, do not steal anything.

I went to the kitchen, turned on the light, and from there I heard her voice with light notes of drunken irony:

“You can't steal something ... What if you kill and rape you?”

And on the fig I brought it, I thought. Let it be stuck on the street under the porch.

- Well, only if in the reverse order, then maybe. Anything? Well ... coffee there, tea?

- No thanks. - she went into the kitchen and sat down heavily on a chair. - Where is your bathroom? Something is not good for me ...

- Come on, I'll show you.

I took her to the bathroom, showed everything, gave her a clean towel and moved back to the kitchen. There wasn’t enough yet for her to spit everything out for me. I sat down on a coffee and sat on the window sill. I smoked ... And where did she throw her bullhead? I hope I threw it out at the entrance, and not on my floor. Strange woman. And does not go home. And you just have to go through another flight of stairs. Maybe something happened to her? ... They don't seem to have children, they live together. Maybe with her husband she grabbed. Yeah, and he threw her out the door, blue. God be with her, let him sleep till the morning here, it is not a pity.

The water in the bathroom stopped making noise, the door latch clicked. I slid off the windowsill and put out a cigarette in an ashtray. A neighbor swum into the kitchen, visibly refreshed after washing. She lingered for a while in the doorway, looking at me, then shook her hair and quickly approached closely, pressed herself to me with her soft body, firmly looking at me even with some kind of challenge, or something ... And not at all drunk.

I was a little taken aback by surprise and digested the situation for a couple of seconds, but then I pulled her closer to me and stretched my lips to hers. She kissed passionately, with aspiration. Her tongue was so wound up in my mouth like a wound. Her taste was pleasant, with a slight touch of tobacco, alcohol and some kind of mint. She managed to clean her teeth, or what? I grabbed her ass with both hands and firmly squeezed her buttocks with my hands. We with her, hugging tightly and merging into one, slammed into the refrigerator, which rattled indignantly and went from side to side. And along with it was a glass jug standing on it. The picture suddenly appeared to me at the wrong time, as he falls right on the blond head of my unplanned night guest. Guest on the floor with a broken head upwards and I’m up with my pants unbuttoned and hands apart to the side in surprise. An oil painting with the name “Fuck it!” I pulled away from the delicious lips and cackled, ...