Golden сarriage for Cinderella. A novel about love. Svetlana Mirrai
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and hurried to the exit. The weather did not change, there were large puddles on the sidewalk, it was raining, it seemed that there would be no end to it.
The next three meetings were canceled for various reasons, and only two apartments remained. One option was in the city center. But the apartment itself was very unsightly, and if compared with the dishes in the restaurant, it looks like boiled potatoes in a uniform, decorated with beautiful inedible twigs and artificial flowers.
My last option was far from the center, but I decided to stay in this apartment. She met all my requirements for temporary residence. By the middle of summer, I had settled into a new place. There was a lot of furniture in the apartment, I put things neatly on the shelves in the closet. The only unpleasant detail in the interior of the apartment was a painting, but there was no way to get rid of it. The painting hid a hole in the wall, although it served a noble role, but I had no desire to look at it at all. The reason for this was a naked woman who was lying on a red bedspread, she generated carnal desires, her nakedness drove me crazy and at the same time caused shame.
It was a 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 a long time that day until very late in the evening, and then I just fell down from fatigue and fell asleep without letting the phone out of 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 of 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 of his perfume filled my apartment. My head was dizzy from the fragrance and the feelings that surged over me, in my thoughts I began to climb high up and swirled in the air with happiness.
And he looked at me tenderly and smiled.
– Hello, here I am,” he said softly.
– Hello, Peter, – I replied, smiling.
I invited him to come into the apartment and offered to take a shower. After a while, the noise of the water subsided. Peter came out steamed, he smelled of the fragrant aroma of gel and shampoo. He changed into a housecoat that he had brought with him.
– Vladochka, I want to hug you,” he whispered.
His warm arms wrapped around my waist and dropped a little lower. I felt the warmth of his body on me. Barely touching my neck with his lips, he said softly:
– Trust me…
– Yes… yes…” I whispered, looking tenderly into his eyes.
So, in an embrace, we spun around, as if in a dance, and sank down on the bed. He hugged me, and his hands greedily touched my body, studying every millimeter. When we reached the highest point of pleasure, my womb was filled with insane desire. Our lips merged in a long kiss, and it seemed to me that we were caught in a whirlpool of endless voluptuousness. Only I didn’t want to rush.
– Peter, wait…” I whispered.
Then I got out of bed and started making tea with bergamot and black currant for us.
“I won’t do anything now,” he said softly and began to dress.
“Is something wrong?”
“I’m sorry, but I have to leave right away.
When the door closed behind him, I sat down at the table in confusion.
“Is it really over between us,” I thought, and my tears dripped right into the cup.
But he rang my doorbell again when evening came. Peter stood on the threshold and held in his hands a huge bouquet of red roses.
– My girl, I’ve been dreaming of hugging you again, – he handed me flowers and put his hands on my waist.
– Why did you leave so suddenly? And I looked into his eyes with a little reproach.
“I will always be there for you, even if I leave,” Peter whispered and gently touched my cheek with his lips.
Night came, and we were all talking and could not tear ourselves away from each other, at that moment it seemed to us that it would always be like this. When it was getting light, I made a bed for him in a separate room. And she poured a bath with air foam and decided to lie down in it for a while. The foam pleasantly stroked my skin, gathering into a plentiful air mass, and I was even afraid to move from pleasure. Suddenly the door opened, and Peter appeared on the threshold.
– Let me look at you, how you bathe, – his beard began to move on his cheekbones when he attached great importance to the conversation.
– I thought you were already asleep,” I said in confusion, covering my bare chest with my hand.
He came closer to me and gently ran his hand over my bare stomach, rose higher and stopped at my nipples. He began to massage them with his hands, and then he pressed his lips and began to kiss them continuously. I moaned with pleasure and went limp. The water from the bath began to slowly leave, pleasantly stroking my back, and his lips covered every cell of my body. He lifted me in his arms and carried me to the bed. That night we gave each other pleasure, discovering the land of great passion and love.
Love is carrots and all that…
The next day the weather was fine, the puddles from yesterday’s rain had almost dried up. Peter’s car was waiting for us in the parking lot, it was a blue Chevrolet Aveo. She dazzlingly shone with purity so that, coming closer to her, you could see yourself as if in a mirror. The cabin was still neat and smelled fresh citrus.
– What kind of owner is such a car, and your car is just fabulously clean, – I said enthusiastically.
Peter smiled, it was obvious that he was pleased with my compliment. The priest crossed the car and himself, turned on the songs of Father Alexander Starostenko, and we drove off. The navigator took us around the capital, narrow streets were replaced by large wide streets, and so we drove for an hour. We parked near the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and got out of the car, where a man was waiting for us.
– Hello. My name is Sergey Valeryevich,” he introduced himself.
The