the end of our relationship.

I began to visit Angelica in the hostel. Three more girls lived in the room with her, but she was not embarrassed at all: when she wanted to suck, she did it to no one paying attention. However, for the first time when this happened with all, I behaved so moronly that her girlfriends might have doubted my adequacy.

The three of us sat on the bed and watched some comedy on TV. Two girls settled on the floor at our feet. Sometimes it was funny and we laughed, perhaps louder than usual: the effect of the crowd affected. Angelica was sitting next to me and suddenly whispered in my ear the starting command: “Give!”. A red light flashed in my brain and the warhead immediately rose to combat mode. I hurriedly covered my groin with a small pillow that lay all over the bed.

The provocateur laid her head on my hips, covered herself with a pillow and did what she loved. I immediately lost interest in the comedy and stopped with a stupid smile on my face. Even Angelica jumped into the cam with which she held her dick because of the ridiculous gags sounding on TV. I was sitting boiled like a dumpling, staring stupidly at the screen with a blank eye. The girls did not notice the ugliness at first, but Angelica was so fascinated that the pillow slid off her head ... and now I’m sitting in a girl's flower garden, red as cancer, and stubbornly watching a comedy in Tsarevna Nesmeyana mode.

After a while, the girls also stopped laughing, and, looking at the happening of indecency, they were sitting like stone idols from Easter Island, afraid to turn their heads at the squishing sounds. So we sat for some time: four idiots, shy of each other, struggling to depict unprecedented interest in the long-over film.

Has anyone tried to finish publicly, especially when they are not at all ready for this? When I was completely secured and restrained, there was no more strength, I groaned disgustingly, shyly looking at the battered curtain, and finished in front of her friends. The girls sighed with relief, they began to move and crawled around, as if they had to wait for this enchanting finale, and not to leave the room much earlier.

Then Angelica often practiced public suction and to some extent spoiled me: I stopped being shy and still do not do it, in whatever exotic place I could not find spontaneous sex. Her fellow students were also accustomed to Angie’s eccentricities and paid little attention to us, always tumbling about on the bed.

One day, when we were alone in the room, Angelica suddenly moved closer to me, and said simply:

- Take me...

But this is a completely different story, and then there was this.

***

Much later, on one of the days I took Angelica's word that she would sit down for her lessons, and, having had sex, went from the dorm room to home. Something made me return from half-way, and when I entered her room, I found only frightened friends: Angelica was not in the room. The girls said that she went to the notes and will be back soon. With a heavy heart, I left and found Angie only the next day. She met me ... in a strange men's sweater. I broke everything inside.

For me, a men's sweater, worn by a woman on a naked body, remained a symbol of treason for life.

Angelica babbled something in excuse, but I remembered her weakness: a pathological lie. I listened to her in the floor of the ear, and my heart screamed in my chest: How ?! Why?! For what?! With some kind of masochistic frenzy, she tried out how many times, how and where she was fucked, then some lanky guy stumbled into the room and began to prove to me that she and Angie loved each other and were going to get married. I threw him out of the room and locked the door. Angelica lay at my feet, sobbing and asking for forgiveness.She screamed that she loved me as before, and everything will remain between us, as it was before, and I quietly asked her:

- And sex?

“I’ll have sex with you,” she said slowly.

- Then lie down! - I snapped and she obeyed.

In me, rage and anger were bubbling, and I did not feel my own tears. A member stood like a stone, I was ready to break it.

Angie pulled the fucking sweater over her head and lay down on the bed: a naked, trembling, sobbing little girl, with fear, she handed me some tape, taking it out from under the pillow. I didn’t immediately see what it was: a condom. He took them mechanically, turned it over in his hand, and then threw it right into her face. A trickle of blood running out of a split lip sobered over me. Angelica lay staring at the ceiling and wept silently.

I unlocked the door and ran a sweater into the owner's room, with which, of course, Angelica did not succeed ... Now Angie shines in the media in one of the European countries and probably does not even remember me.

And I still, when I hear the song of The Rolling Stones "Angie" crying and bursting ...

January 2017