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Immoral behavior and light love. Erotic story

March 26 2005
16:10

My publisher called my work as immoral. And he added:

- You have a main theme - promiscuous sex. And I stick ordered. My wife and I live together for life. And I told her never changed. I have two children: a son and a daughter. With her son with us on this issue full understanding. He is friends with a girl for two years and never before it did not touch. Said, just after the wedding. A daughter was married twice and both times divorced. He now lives with a third birth. We did not talk. You ask God, maybe he'll light up on a clean, bright love. Make a note and I'll publish. And these stories I will not publish.

I looked up. God could not see. Large, clean and bright love, too. Then I decided to clean the filth from the one that was. My boyfriend was furious:

- What are you, nuts? Which two years? What wedding? You said yourself that you do not want to get married. What the devil has beguiled you?

But I was adamant. In the evening we hold hands, go to the cinema. The next day, holding hands - to the theater. Then, for variety, under the handle - to the show. Then, already in an embrace - to a disco. From there I went alone, because I saw my favorite kissing my girlfriend. I'm not upset. I waited for the big, bright and pure love, and preparing for marriage. Read a book on housekeeping. Copied in a notebook recipes of Russian cuisine. Learned to embroider a cross. Knitted socks. Listened to classical music. Love was not. Sex, too.

But there were erotic dreams. I dreamed I was making love to a publisher. He knocks over all the books on the floor, tying his eyes and takes off his pants. Then, with a bare ass looks me in the room. Finds tear off my clothes, overturned on a pile of books, eagerly kissing. Then, abruptly jumps up, pulls off the bandage from her eyes and begins to read aloud. I can not hear his voice, do not see the book's title. See swollen manhood, wet from sweat baldness, shortness of breath. Then he publishes a choking sound, and says:

- I have finished.

- I'm not - I'm angry, and making an effort, plunge into reading "War and Peace."

I walked through the streets and wanted to meet a prince on a white horse. At worst - on a Mercedes. Or let it sail on a sailboat. Possible and on a yacht. Or by plane. No, better at flying saucer. We used to fly away to another planet, and we make love. Then I knew what unearthly love. But I did not mind and the Earth.

I met him in the subway. The prince does not like. More - a beggar. Torn jeans, worn boots, a jacket with a broken zipper. Long, shoulder-length hair. Bright, deep eyes. He looked at me and swallowed hard. I felt eaten. He stretched out his hand, I gave her. He said: "I want you", I replied: "I - too." We walked along the street side, never taking his eyes from each other. Were met with passers-by, stammer for urns, clinging to the trees. Burst into his apartment and slowly dropped to one another on their knees. Greedy kisses, strong, to the pain, embrace the heat, the cry, languor. And then - a thought: Why not torture me thinking. For example, who he is, where such a passion and why I could not tear himself away from his eyes.

The door slammed. He picked me up and, as a child, carefully laid on the bed:

- Silence. This is my father. He has strict rules. If you suspect that - would deprive the estate. But to deny there is anything. I must be an ascetic to him lucky. Pretends listen to religious music.

- Maybe first get dressed? - I asked.

- A forgotten altogether. You got me all turned off. I love you now will not let go. Ready? Come on, introduce you. Lest there be any suspicion.

boldly opened the bedroom door and recoiled sharply backward. In a chair sat my publisher, my father was a prince. The man who two years, is friends with a girl and never before it did not touch. Poor girl. She lost so much.

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