The Edge of Madness

I express my immense gratitude for the help in writing the story to the wonderful author and, I hope, my friend — Vitaly Bianki.

I settled cozily into the back seat of the car. Just the thought of having to step out into the damp autumn evening soon made me shiver and wrap myself tighter in my warm coat. The car stereo softly emitted something resembling chanson. The taxi driver tapped out the rhythm with his fingers on the steering wheel cover.

My cheek touched the cold glass. Outside the window, the dark outlines of hills on the opposite riverbank drifted by.

We drove onto a long, high bridge. From here, the view opened up to the entire old town, embraced by the fire of the fading sunset.

—

Feeling sad again? Stop it, we're going to have a great time tonight! — Sveta smiled and covered my hand with her palm.

She was a girl from my past. Still just as cheerful and lively. And still just as beautiful. Tanned skin, a nose with a slight bump, brown eyes, light hair down to her shoulders, and a slender figure with small, neat breasts.

Sveta always attracted men. Though, I never suffered from a lack of attention either. But I chose only one. Gave him all of myself.

Tall, dark-haired, brown-eyed. Roma was always surrounded by beautiful girls. But he only preferred those who matched his ideal: tall, slender, green-eyed brunettes. Probably, there's one like that with him now too.

The taxi stopped near a building with a sign beckoning with bright lights. After paying, we headed for the entrance.

The club turned out to be quite nice. The dark burgundy color of the walls combined with thick dark curtains on the windows. There was no general lighting, replaced only by small lampshades over each table. At the back of the hall was a dance floor.

We were brought menus. My friend fell silent for a while. But, having made her choice, and looking askance over the leather-bound menu, she asked a question I didn't want to answer:

— Maybe you'll tell me what happened after all?

I didn't even know myself how it happened. What was wrong with me? Delirium, obsession? How could I have been so deceived?

I wasn't expecting guests that evening.

Who came up with the stupid idea of celebrating the approach of old age every year? And what's so good about old age anyway?

Dropping my robe in the bathroom, I critically examined my body. No, these aren't wrinkles around the eyes yet, and no cellulite, my breasts aren't saggy yet. What am I talking about? Silly me! I'm only twenty.

I turned on the shower — needed to relax. Thin streams slid over my shoulders. The water was too hot, but despite that, goosebumps covered my skin.

Wet strands stuck to my forehead. I pushed my hair back, accidentally brushing my hand against my nipple.

I shuddered. A pleasant ache throbbed low in my stomach.

Roma hadn't been around for several months. I missed his caresses so much.

It was hot. Steam rose from my skin.

My nipples hardened. Bliss spread throughout my body.

My palm rested on the smooth pubic mound. My fingers parted the labia. I gently ran the pad of my finger over my clitoris. The touch sent a sweet tremor through my body.

My hand gently squeezed my breast and then fell limp.

The fingers of my other hand continued to caress myself below. A quiet moan escaped my lips.

From afar came the sound of the doorbell. As if it yanked me out of a sweet captivity.

Mentally cursing the uninvited guests, I threw the robe over my wet body and trudged to the hallway.

— Who is it?

— Valya, it's me — Dima, Roman's brother, was standing outside the door — It's your birthday today, and since Roman is away… I thought that…

Opening the door, I stepped back a little, letting him into the house.

— … you shouldn't spend this evening alone. Congratulations!!!

I accepted the bottle of wine and the roses.

Roses — white, my favorites. The same kind Roma used to give me.

While I changed from the robe into a lilac knee-length dress, Dmitry put the flowers in a vase and settled on the soft sofa in the living room, opening the wine.

I entered the room. He stood up and handed me a glass.

— You look simply wonderful! To your twentieth!

I silently nodded and sat down next to him on the sofa.

Dima was telling me something about his work, some failed contract. That, because of this, Roman was having difficulties on his trip too.

They worked for the same company. And, most likely, his brother would postpone his return for another couple of months.

He kept talking and talking, but I wasn't listening anymore. My gaze wandered over the guest's face.

How much he looked like his brother! Tall, sturdy. Strong arms, thick eyebrows, dark hair, and a barely noticeable stubble. And… brown eyes with mischievous sparks. The same. Exactly the same. I seemed to dissolve in them and lost my mind, will, sense of reality, control. Eyes I wanted to drown in…

Hot breath touched my cheek. But I couldn't even move. Stranger's lips barely touched mine.

And those eyes still stared unwaveringly with a sly look. It was unbearable. No longer able to fight. And I gave in. No one but my beloved had ever kissed me like that.

— Is it really you? — I whispered.

His hands slid down the fabric of my dress. Paused at the hem and smoothly moved up the bare skin. Every breath was a struggle. I was suffocating.

For a second, it seemed — Roma was before me now. How I had missed him!

I believed.

The touch burned the skin under the elastic of my panties. I trembled. Couldn't even make a move.

The lace slid down to my ankles.

As if I were a lifeless doll, he tipped me onto my back on the sofa. A stranger's hand rushed between my legs. Warm, gentle fingers touched my sex.

Dima loomed over me. Positioned the head at the entrance. And entered sharply.

I jerked from the pain. But his hands held my hips firmly.

His member began to move slowly inside me. Pain gave way to pleasure. Dima leaned towards my face.

Time stood still. Nothing else existed. Only his eyes. They mesmerized, wouldn't let go.

But something inside me suddenly snapped and shattered into pieces.

I came to on the sofa. Dima was fastening his trousers, standing with his back to me. Feeling movement, he turned around and his gaze! Cold, indifferent, empty… My world collapsed in an instant.

— Sorry, okay? I have to go.

He said something else, but I couldn't hear anymore. Didn't move. And only the sound of the slamming door made me return to reality.

— And what about Roma? Didn't even listen? — exclaimed Sveta, dropping the cocktail straw from her mouth.

— No, of course he believed Dima, that I seduced him myself.

— Don't worry, we'll find you a good one, not like that… Hey look, this one seems okay!

A tall, pleasant-looking blond in dark blue jeans and a white shirt was decisively heading towards our table. Sveta winked at me conspiratorially and turned to him:

— Do you want to take my friend away?

— Miss, sorry, but I actually wanted to invite you for a dance.

Sveta looked at me guiltily. I just cheerfully nodded — let them have fun. And leaning on the arm of the new acquaintance, she rose from the chair.

The young people disappeared into the crowd of dancers. I felt lonely.

My gaze fell on a couple at the next table. The man was sitting with his back to me, the girl opposite him. She was young. And very beautiful. She coquettishly adjusted a disobedient curl. The guy reached out his hand to her. She smiled. Happy. Now. And later?

What awaits them later?

A wedding. A honeymoon. He — the head of a large company. She — a caring homemaker. Two lovely children close in age. A red Labrador. A house on the outskirts of town, with flowerbeds by the gate and a gravel path.

The children grew up, moved away.

And them? They grew old. And died on the same day, holding hands in wicker chairs on the terrace.

To hell with it all! That only happens in fairy tales. And it's definitely not about me.

The glass was empty. I set it down on the table sharply, with a clink.

The slow

dance ended. I jumped up and decisively headed into the crowd of writhing bodies. Rushed right into the middle. I wanted to dance. I wanted to forget.

I was just getting into it, feeling the rhythm, when another slow dance started. In the whirl of spinning couples, I was alone.

But I didn't want to leave. Closing my eyes, I slowly swayed to the music.

A touch.

Dancers sometimes brushed against me, accidentally. This was different.

Stranger's hands rested on my hips from behind. And were in no hurry to pull away.

I turned around. What I saw made me recoil: a neat face, a slender figure in a black mini-dress with a deep neckline, a long braid of light hair — a girl!

I probably looked stupid, staring dumbfounded at the stranger.

What did she want? Maybe I accidentally pushed her? Didn't notice. Apologize?

The girl smiled. Warmly and kindly.

No, that wasn't it.

— You dance so well. My name's Dasha? And you… — she began.

I didn't let her finish. With a quick movement, I wrapped my arms around her neck and pulled her to me.

— You want this, don't you?

No answer. Only the corners of her lips trembled slightly. I still didn't move. Gave Dasha a chance to pull away, push me off. Turn around and leave. Angrily throw a dirty curse. But she did none of that. Just waited submissively.

A kiss.

Lips so soft, tender.

What's wrong with me?

I pulled away.

To hell with doubts!

I grabbed her wrist and headed through the dense crowd of merry people, pulling Dasha along with me.

Squeezing through the living wall, we found ourselves in a narrow corridor. The door to the women's restroom. A free stall. The click of the latch.

I turned Dasha sharply towards me. Her cheeks flushed. Her breathing became ragged.

The arousal was unbearable. I'd never been with a girl before. I'm not… ?

Dasha kissed timidly, pleadingly, like a few minutes ago in the middle of the crowd and music. Only now we were alone. And that world was gone. My hand slid to the neckline of her dress. The scent of perfume. The salty taste of skin.

She closed her eyes. Pulled me to her, wrapping her arms around my head. Her fingers clutched convulsively at my hair.

I freed Dasha's breasts from the tight cups. I had never been attracted to the beauty of a female body, but now I sincerely admired it. She was beautiful! This was something new, unexplored, yet so captivating.

Her heart was pounding so fast it seemed it would burst from her chest.

My hand slid over her knee along the nylon of her stockings. My fingers barely touched the damp fabric.

Dasha leaned forward slightly. — Please!

And I knelt down.

For the first time removing panties from another woman, my hands trembled. Come on, be brave!

My nails scratched the delicate skin of her thighs, pulling the black lace down with them. Her lips glistened with moisture.

I ran the tip of my tongue over them. It was so hot here! Barely touched the entrance with my fingertips.

Dasha moaned quietly.

My fingers slid into the hot, wet flesh.

With my tongue, I caressed her lips. Gently kissed her pubic mound. My palm was covered in her wetness.

Dasha's breathing quickened. Trembled, pressing me to her.

A drawn-out moan. She arched her back.

Her fingers unclenched, releasing my hair.

The moan broke off on an exhale.

I stood up. Dasha's eyes were closed. A smile played on her face. I pulled her to me.

We didn't stay in each other's embrace for long. Helped her adjust her clothes and tidy up. Left the restroom. Dasha looked happy but very tired.

— How are you? Maybe better go home? Let me walk you.

She nodded.

We went out into the hall. Sveta and her beau had already returned and were now sitting at our table. The young man had his arm around her waist and was leaning slightly towards her face. He was saying something. Even in the dim light, you could see she was smiling. I caught my friend's eye, waved, and gestured that I'd call.

We left the club. A gust of wind lashed my face. Didn't have to wait. Several taxis were "on duty" at the entrance. We headed to one of the cars. Opening the door, Dasha turned around.

— Will we see each other again sometime? — Of course, I promise!

The rustle of tires faded. I felt like walking. I took a deep breath of the cool night air.

On both sides of the street stretched rows of little shops and restaurants. But the windows were dark. It was late and most of them were already closed. Only occasionally did cheerful shouts, muffled bass of music, or drunken swearing come from somewhere.

Seemed like nothing had changed at all since I was last here. Long ago? Two years.

I hated myself that very day, waking up on my sofa, looking into the empty, cold eyes of my weakness. How could I have done that? How could I have betrayed my beloved?

Day after day I paced the house. Day after day I came to my senses dirty, exhausted, having crawled