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I wanted to respond with courtesy courtesy.
At the same time I wanted to ask you to unleash my wife on anal.
Well, in general, to teach a lesson to be more conspicuous.
Zlatan bit his lip and looked at me imploringly.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be happy to see how you teach her husband to obey.”
“Well then, shall we come tomorrow?” – Herman’s eyes are already completely sparkled in anticipation.
“Better before lunch,” said Zlatan, “there are fewer people.”
We open at noon if there are no broadcasts.
“Agreed,” Herman answered, and winked at her quite.
The girl, moved by curiosity, opens the door, painted in bright red, almost scarlet, color.
The room is quiet and dark.
A few more seconds of hesitation, and she takes a step forward, at the same time trying to grope a switch on the wall.
It does not work: the girl clicks useless smooth plastic digging.
The door closes, although there is no drafts in the room.
The frightened girl turns back, in a vain desire to get out of the dark room.
But: the door has no handle.
“What to do?” The question hangs in the air unthinkable weight.
Thoughts dance, clinging to each other, rush in my head.

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Suddenly children’s fears come to life: a dark room, silence, someone who caught her on the hook of curiosity will now keep her here: For some ordinary wretched thought, a searchlight flashes, filling the face of a frightened girl with too bright light blinding her first few seconds until the lamp goes down, sliding along a light-white blouse, a short black skirt, a spiderweb and a black glitter of shoes — the usual form of a high school student.
The light continues to slide across the floor, going somewhere to the side, continually bumping into decorated knick-knacked bedside tables and kamodiki: Unconsciously, the girl takes a step toward the fleeing light, not wanting in the depths of her soul to return to the worst children’s nightmare: One step , the other, the third – and now she is at the sofa in the center of the room.
The light stopped, instilling a ghostly shaky hope that there would be nothing further: The girl sat on the sofa, settling herself more comfortably and felt an injection of curiosity.
– Hello.
– the voice was soft, soothing and a little bewitching.
He wanted to believe.
– You’re so beautiful.
What’s your name? “Lexan,” the girl whispered almost soundlessly, already unconsciously trusting her interlocutor — after all, a person with such a soft voice cannot wish her harm.
– And you? – I do not need to “vykat”.
– Almost palpably grimaced interlocutor.
“Today you can call me just a friend.”
Exactly.
“Friend

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,” said the girl, intrigued, as if trying a familiar word filled with new meaning.
– What do you want? – Bind your eyes, then you will know.
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