The day began quite normally. Such days after the 18th anniversary of Mashinov had already passed a whole September, but having begun boringly and routinely, it was gradually filled with small and large events and, as a result, turned into something completely unexpected.

The bustle of the morning gathering, accompanied by the usual mother's instructions and reproaches of lack of organization and lack of coordination, nearly ended in a quarrel. But Masha just habitually snapped back and rushed off to the college in time to acquire knowledge, leaving her mother alone to enjoy the weekend.

But after a couple of hours of classes, a state of emergency happened: on a construction site next to the college, builders broke the cable and de-energized the floor of the district. For almost an hour, students and teachers stupidly scurried around the corridors and classrooms, trying to figure out something, but in the end, the classes were officially canceled and everyone was dismissed home.

Masha was delighted with the inadvertently arisen day off, but the day had already become completely cloudy in the morning: a nasty little rain began to fall, and instead of walking around the city, I had to go home.

In the hallway, Masha threw off her boots, hung up her jacket on a hanger, and suddenly stood still when she heard sounds in her back in the back of the apartment. Not daring to admit to herself what these sounds were, she quietly crept up to the door ajar in her mother's room and was stunned. In the half-darkness of the bedroom, on a wide bed, between two peasants stood her mother's "cancer". Yes, it looked exactly like this: naturalistic, without embellishment, without any romance.

Noticing Masha, one of the men who held his mother by her hair and swayed gently back and forth, as if nothing had happened, smiled broadly and winked at the girl. Masha, frightened, recoiled from the door, crawled to the kitchen on her wadded legs, and flopped down on the hard stool between the refrigerator and the table. She felt herself as if she had received a strong head on her head, at once clouded her mind and lost her breath. Shock from what he saw made the heart pound with uneven blows. Of course, it was not a secret for her that her mother may have lovers or some intimate intrigues. Several times men appeared in their house who for a long time, who didn’t really live with them on the rights of almost family members, but that my mother’s relations with the opposite sex would fall to such a level! Just some live porn illustration!

Masha put trembling hands to her cheeks, feeling the skin glowing with heat in her fingers. “Yes,” justifying thought rummaged in her head, “she is an adult woman and she needs sex no less than other people.” “But why exactly like this ?!” Masha was immediately perplexed, and all other thoughts were chaotically swarming in her head, in no way adding up to something more or less intelligible. Before my eyes was a bright spot picture seen in the bedroom.

Five minutes later the door creaked, and the same man appeared in the kitchen, slapping his bare feet. He silently went up to the refrigerator, took out a packet of juice, in a few sips, dealt with the contents, and only after that he gave a vote.

“Uuuffff,” he breathed noisily, “fly away, just fly away.”

Masha felt her jaw slowly droop: an unexpected stranger was absolutely naked and did not even try to at least cover herself up in front of the girl. And at that in the head the ringing emptiness was suddenly formed, the new shock completely knocked out of the brain the ability not only to think, but even to adequately evaluate what is happening. It seemed to her that she had fallen into some kind of parallel world, where everything was completely different, as always in her life.

The man, in the meantime, sat down opposite, leaning back against the wall, and again smiled broadly.

“Hello,” he said, “and why aren't you in class?”

“They canceled,” Masha mumbled in reply, without going into details of the morning incident. She slowly returned to reality and with some interest looked at the interlocutor.He looked to be about thirty years old, quite a pretty face with an unobtrusive, appealing to him, charm.

She even liked his lean muscular body, and the impressive sausage hanging between his legs caused an incomprehensible thrill and even a slight fear.

- And if we do not eat? - A man tore back from the stool and again went to the refrigerator. “Are you cherry or strawberry?” - he turned in front of his nose with jars of yogurt.

“Cherry,” the girl replied without thinking.

The man returned to his seat and, taking the same posture as before, began enthusiastically poking around with a spoon in yogurt.

At the same time he behaved so naturally and naturally that he seemed to be an integral part of home life.

- You after all Masha name? - as if in between times he asked, and again he smiled broadly and friendlyly.

“Yes,” Masha answered on the machine and asked herself automatically, just as automatically: “How about you?”

“Call me Nicholas,” the man puffed out his chest with pride and straightened his shoulders.

- Why? - Masha slowly began to move away from the stupor and lead a more or less meaningful conversation.

- So fun, - explained the source. - Well this is not some Kolyan, or God forbid, Kolyunya. Nicholas - it sounds proud and erotic. - At the last word, Nicholas Kolyunya again lit up with a wide smile.

- What is erotic? - Masha shrugged her shoulders in bewilderment, but didn’t hear the answer, instead, a sonorous mother’s scream broke out of the bedroom, followed by a prolonged uterine moan.

Nicholas and Masha simultaneously turned toward the door.

- Vovchika not to stop, - the man sighed enviously. - Unicum! Hours can fuck. Right monster ...

Masha blushed from such candor, and then decided to ask the question:

- Have you known your mother for a long time ...? - after a pause, she managed to find a politically correct word.

- About a month.

- And all this month you ... it ... well ... - Masha could not decide to call things by their names.

Nicholas stared at the girl. His face suddenly became serious, in a second dropping off playfulness and ease.

“Honey Masha,” he said with a kind of incomprehensible sadness in his voice. - Your mother is a young beautiful woman with a failed personal life, unfortunately. And therefore even you have no right to condemn her for desires and fantasies. “Do not judge, but you will not be judged,” he finished quite pathetically, but still seriously.

They were silent for a few minutes. Nicholas intently shoveled yogurt from the jar into his mouth, and Masha looked at him and thought that he was, by and large, right. And he is not as frivolous as it might seem at first glance. She lazily licked the spoon and tried to put herself in Mom's place, drawing in imagination a failed personal life. But instead, before the eyes again flashed frank pictures, and below, in panties, nicely tickled. The girl twitched her booty on a stool to quench the tickling itch, and at that time Nicholas, having dealt with yogurt, looked at Masha again and somehow thoughtfully, as if addressing himself, asked:

- I wonder what you taste?

Masha patted her eyelashes, looking for meaning in what was said, and asked again:

- In terms of?

Instead of answering, the man beckoned the girl to her, and when she approached, with the agility of a magician, almost with one movement, he lifted her skirt, pulled off her pantyhose with her underpants and sat her bare booty on the kitchen table. And then he poked his mouth between the splayed Masha's legs, grabbing the whole girl's crotch by one bite and sucked it in with force. Masha screamed out of surprise, falling back on the table, and when an elastic tongue sank into the hot core, she seemed to be shocked. The body spontaneously arched, the arms chaotically scurried around, as if trying to find some kind of support, and a petard suddenly exploded in the stomach. And after her another one, and another, and another, another, another, another ... At some point, Masha heard her voice, which screamed out like a spell, this insatiable "more."And then she felt hot, as if a gust of wind blew hot desert wind, tickling raised heels with spiky grains of sand, and a heavy viscous wave squeezed her chest. ...