Golden сarriage for Cinderella. A novel about love

The only unpleasant detail inВ the interior ofВ the apartment was aВ painting, but there was no way toВ get rid ofВ it. The painting hid aВ hole inВ the wall, although it served aВ noble role, but IВ had no desire toВ look at it at all. The reason for this was aВ naked woman who was lying on aВ red bedspread, she generated carnal desires, her nakedness drove me crazy and at the same time caused shame.

It was aВ warm summer day, and suddenly the phone rang.

– My sunshine, hello, – Peter’s voice was very happy.

– Hi, Peter, – I was glad to hear him.

“I’ve missed you and I’m looking forward to meeting you,” he replied.

– When are you coming to Moscow?

– I will come next week, one businessman promised to help me with money for medicine to his wife, he is from Moscow. And I will definitely stop by your place.

– I will look forward to this day.

– You know… – he said thoughtfully.

– What do you want to tell me?

– If at the meeting we do not feel any feelings for each other, despite this, always count on my support as an older friend and priest.

– Okay, – I agreed.

We talked for aВ long time that day until very late inВ the evening, and then IВ just fell down from fatigue and fell asleep without letting the phone out ofВ my hands.

The man kissed my swollen nipples without interruption, his hands stroked and caressed, then suddenly grasping my buttocks, he pressed against me with all his might.

I opened my eyes in great excitement and could not remember his face. What’s wrong with me? Maybe the painting on the wall is to blame? Or maybe that man was Peter?

The taste ofВ the first meeting

The long-awaited day of our meeting has come. It was raining heavily outside the window. My morning started very early, I was spinning in front of the mirror, picking up my clothes. About nine o’clock the doorbell rang. The silhouette of an interesting and very unusual man peeked through the dusty glass of the peephole.

The whole strangeness was in his clothes. He was wearing a long raincoat and a black gaucho hat. His beard and long hair emphasized his personality. I moved the lock lever, opened the door, and he came in. Peter’s hair was thick, black, combed back and gathered into a long ponytail. He was tall, about one meter ninety, and had a solid build.

The smell ofВ his perfume filled my apartment.