I just finished school, automatically entered the Mekhmat as a prize-winner of the regional Olympiad in mathematics. Ahead, I was waiting for the not boring, as it seemed to me, holidays. Two months of doing nothing in the countryside in the village where my father was once born and raised.

Grandma got up at five, cooked a pig brew and porridge for people on the stove. Dad's brother, Uncle Borya, went to nine to work. He heated the boiler room in a nursing home. Sometimes I had breakfast with my grandmother and uncle, but more often I was lying until ten, and even the rooster under the window could not make me open my eyelids.

In sweet slumber, I dreamed of a beautiful girl, beautiful relationships, quickly developing to the desired sex. This last piquant moment invariably became the cherry on the cake of all my even non-erotic fantasies. How often I imagined sex with a girl. What is it like to insert a member into the vagina, to enter and exit, gradually accelerating, kissing the girl on the lips, caressing her nipples. I was excited in the morning and, lifting the blanket with my knees, masturbated. After shooting a couple of times in a T-shirt or underwear, I slowly got out of bed and, never tucking it, went into the kitchen, where my grandmother had already prepared pancakes or potatoes with bacon. In such cases, I had breakfast alone, while listening to the measuring switch of the pre-war dusty hours on the wall. Sometimes a truck would rush down the street, then the grandmother would return from the garden, bringing carrots, sorrel and dill in the hem. I quickly shod and went for a walk. First in the courtyard, then out into the street.

“But wouldn't you go fishing?” I thought lazily, yawning.

Usually the desire to go fishing has ripened in the evening. I collected the gear, went to an abandoned stretch of river with a beach bar and thick reeds. I always got there by bike, it took about fifteen minutes. There I finally fell into the fabulous wilderness.

Around not a soul, the fish willingly grabs a worm, the sun slowly sinks behind its back. “What else is needed for happiness?” - I convinced myself, refusing to believe in the existence of other options.

Deep in my heart, I languished in anticipation of meeting with a stranger who would make me happy, fall in love as sincerely and madly as I did. Love me mutually at first sight.

I have always been a very amorous and shy boy. During puberty, modesty blossomed with a bright poppy. For any reason, and for no reason, I blushed at every step, avoided direct views with classmates, peers, even adult aunts (something, you ask, fear?) I was especially worried when unfamiliar younger or older girls made my eyes. Then the heart pounded deafly and rarely, like a rabbit in a cardboard box, the body became wadded. At such moments I did not hear and did not understand anything that was said nearby. The image of a charming girl who had paid attention to me was frozen before my eyes. The fantasy flew above the roof and hovered above the clouds, I myself soared in the clouds, imagining myself with a girl. All this remained behind seven locks, under the inviolable cover of shame and helplessness.

Therefore, the village seemed to me a salutary option, loneliness in nature guaranteed peace of mind, soft languor without bright shocks.

###

On that day, as always, I arrived at my favorite place at five o'clock. Light breeze rippled brown heads of reeds, I chose a quieter place and made the first cast. The float froze on the water, demolished by a slow current, it froze at a certain moment, dropping slightly.

The behavior of the tackle on the river did not bother me for a long time. I fished in a strong wind, and with a big wave. There were hooks and for reed. All that worried me was the convenient location of the fishing rod in rogulin, so that in case of an unexpected bite, have time to jump and get the fish.

Sitting on a birch, thickly overgrown with low grass, I hugged my knees with my hands, my thoughts immediately flew away into a fabulous distance.I dreamed not only of girls, sometimes I imagined the image of a hero who secretly performs noble acts, like Robin Hood or Batman. This hero, of course, was me, but no one knew about it. And the reward always became the favor of the mysterious stranger.

I probably spent no more than ten minutes in my dreams, when suddenly I heard a distant sound of a motor behind my back. He was slowly approaching, judging by the growing buzz. With the rejection of the disturbed person, I was filled with new thoughts.

“Who could it be and why did he come to this wilderness?” Are there no more places? And what is the car doing here? ”I thought.

A country road ran a hundred meters from the river. Judging by the sound, the car stopped just behind my back. There were voices of women, fragments of phrases gradually began to reach me:

- If only they lay somewhere on the grass.

- Yes, they are where they go.

- Listen, maybe they are not here at all.

Finally, three girls came to the beach on my right. They were seven or eight years older than me, adults are all aunts compared to me. The girls immediately noticed that I was staring at them, and I quickly turned to the water, stared at the float, as if the light was wedged on it. I was staring at the float, and before my eyes was a picture of three very pretty mature girls jumping out of the forest. I say "mature" because, having seen them, I immediately felt the difference in age. At eighteen, even a slight run-up in two or three years seems like a precipice, and here it was all seven or eight years.

“They probably already had instituted institutions and got a job,” I thought.

Two of them were in skirts, one in jeans. The one in jeans kept smartly. She had short black hair, a figure of a teenager and almost no signs of breasts under a turtleneck.

The other girl was a curvaceous wheaten blonde with lush wavy curls falling on her shoulders. On the contrary, her big balls of breasts jumped under a thin T-shirt, singling out a girl in the company of her friends.

The third was the smallest of the whole company, also painted blonde with smooth hair shoulder-length. Miniature and unreal, she, like a doll, jumped on the shoals.

All these nuances of the girls' appearance were imprinted in my memory, as on a photographic film, and I studied them in detail, staring at the float.

The girls ran on the sand, returned to the forest, fumbled on the grass. They were looking for clues.

“Nothing,” the tiny girl proclaimed in disgust.

“Let's go through the sand again,” the little black commanded.

They went to comb the shore, peering into the grass, sand, gradually approaching me. I fidgeted, looking anxiously at them, trying to collect my thoughts, because contact with each of their steps became more and more inevitable.

“Surely questions will start now,” I thought. “Did I not see the keys here, didn’t I accidentally find iron rings in the grass.”

After all, my indifferent behavior on the shore could be easily mistaken for innate idiocy.

So I felt. Worse than a tree, an oak, which with a thick trunk and a thick crown towered behind my back.

“All right, we’ve come,” the blonde with big breasts muttered in confusion.

They really stopped two steps away from me. I involuntarily jumped, shaking off my ass, turning my face towards them, smiling stupidly at the same time.

- Hello, - burst out of me.

Probably the falsity of my reactions finished them off completely. They stared at me suspiciously.

“Hello,” the black-haired young lady in jeans started a song of an elementary school teacher.

She already folded her arms crosswise, put the leg forward.

- You did not find the keys here by chance? She asked, smiling playfully, as if she hadn’t asked at all, but she was playing a “guessing game” with me.

“Oh you naughty! - read in her eyes. “Confess where you put your keys!”

“No,” I answered timidly, confused by the nontrivial interest in my person of all three young ladies.

- Are you sure? - asked a miniature ...