Love for animals is mandatory.

For some, New Year's is a wonderful holiday, a time to gather with family and loved ones you haven't seen in a long time, even though you sleep in the same bed and have breakfast at the same table. For others, it's just another ordinary day in another week, another month, another year.

That's exactly what this day was for Dima. A pile of unfinished tasks had accumulated at his new job, which Dima wanted to wrap up, and no one was waiting for him at home anyway, so there was no point in hurrying. He really didn't want to go to an empty apartment with an empty fridge, but around eight in the evening, his bosses kicked him out of the office.

"Where to go, where to turn, who to find, who to

give myself to?" This thought spun in his head as Dima rode the elevator down.

A few floors down, the doors opened and five beauties poured in. Each more beautiful than the last. Even their strict attire (the company's dress code) aroused Dima like never before. Crammed into the small rectangular box, the girls pinned the only man between the wall and their bodies. As the elevator slowly descended, the girls laughed loudly, and their voluptuous forms swayed before Dima's face like the delicious jelly he loved so much.

"Happy New Year!" the girls chirped loudly and tumbled out of the elevator as it arrived on the first floor. Dima just smiled, floating in his dirty fantasies with these wonderful representatives of the arousing sex.

It was snowing outside. The streets were already lightly covered. The city was immersed in a beautiful snow globe that had been shaken at just the right time.

The thought of the empty apartment gnawed at Dima when suddenly, from a passing car, a girl emerged from the waist up, naked, holding skates in her hands and shouting: "Everyone to the skating rink!"

For a while longer, Dima could hear her calls.

"Why not?! Better to meet the New Year with strangers and get drunk than to meet it alone and get drunk. As they say: 'How you meet the New Year is how you'll spend it.'"

Standing in line at the rink's ticket booth, Dima felt himself starting to freeze. "I'll get the skates now and warm up," Dima thought. The last time he skated was a year ago, but muscles remember, and as soon as they felt the glide on the ice, Dima felt right at home.

The evening was just beginning, and more and more people were arriving. Weaving between slow-moving couples in love on the ice, Dima could only think, "Just don't crash."

People were celebrating, drinking champagne, and Dima skated like a wound-up toy, as if trying to forget himself.

The president's speech was delivered, the chimes struck midnight. Dima, picking up speed, rode up onto a small hill. Someone set off fireworks, and Dima, unexpectedly, got distracted by the lights. When he turned his head back, a collision was unavoidable. Flying down the slope, a girl appeared in his path who clearly didn't know how to skate, and certainly didn't know how to avoid obstacles.

"Damn, damn, damn!" was all Dima kept repeating before knocking the girl off her feet.

For a moment, they slid across the ice by inertia. Lying on top of the girl, Dima could feel how fast she was breathing.

"Damn it, I'd just gotten up to a decent speed," the girl shouted, still under Dima, who wasn't in a hurry to get up. Subconsciously, he was quite comfortable with the situation.

"Excuse me," the girl coughed out.

Opening his eyes, Dima realized she was talking to him.

"Hi," was all he could manage to say, flashing his most irresistible smile.

"Okay—you knocked me down, okay—now you're lying on top of me, but the placement of your hands is completely unacceptable to me," the girl glared angrily with her green eyes at Dima's hands, which were firmly gripping her breasts.

Looking at his hands, Dima didn't immediately understand what she was unhappy about; he was quite comfortable and everything suited him.

"Damn, sorry," he reluctantly pulled his hands back and stood up. Looking down at the girl lying on the ice, something twinged in his chest. "Allow me to help you up," Dima offered gallantly.

"As if! I can get up myself, and you with your gallantry can roll away somewhere far," she retorted.

In any other situation, Dima wouldn't have paid any attention to girls like this: "Untouchable types," he called them, but this particular one, he wanted to fuck.

"Maybe we should go to the first aid station after all?" Dima said with concern.

Getting back on her skates, the girl brushed the snow off.

"You go there yourself," pushing off, the girl slowly skated away down the path, leaving Dima, aching with desire, alone.

Now, his sole goal at this rink was this girl. He accidentally bumped into her, observed her. The whole time, no one had skated up to her, which meant—this girl was here completely alone.

The rink was closing, and everyone was slowly leaving. Peeking out from behind a wooden snack bar, Dima had one last chance he didn't want to miss. The girl was among the last ones leaving. Dima sped up and knocked her off her feet. This time he kept his hands to himself, but as he tumbled the girl onto the ice, he managed to hug her and position himself so that she ended up on top.

"You're following me!" Dima exclaimed, awaiting a reaction.

"No, that's not funny at all."

"Who's laughing?" Dima smiled.

"What do you want from me?" the girl addressed him.

"You're the one lying on top of me, so I should be asking such questions," Dima didn't stop smiling.

Leaning her fist on his chest, the girl stood up.

"Ow!" Dima exclaimed, clutching his chest, hoping the lady of his heart would cling to him, rubbing the bruised spot.

"Won't work, buddy, but if anything, the first aid station is over there," pointing to the building with a red cross, she smiled.

"If she smiled, not all is lost," Dima thought.

"Are you here alone?" catching up to the girl, the guy addressed her.

"Why do you want to know?"

"I want to know if I'll get a fist to the face or a wonderful kiss."

"I can only bestow a wonderful slap."

"Are you always like this..."

"Yes, always," the girl didn't let him finish.

After returning the skates, Dima quickly put on his shoes and ran to find his strange companion, who was heading towards the subway.

"You know, I've always thought about one phrase on New Year's Eve."

The girl just gave him a surprised look.

"Who you meet the New Year with is who you'll spend it with. This year, I met you."

"Don't tell me it's fate, or I'll start crying."

"I believe it is fate," Dima said in the most romantic tone he could muster. In response, he heard a ringing girlish laugh that excited his imagination.

"You're funny," the girl looked at him.

"I try."

"So what do you want from me?"

"I want to invite you on a date."

"Only if it's not at a skating rink."

"My name's Dima."

"Masha."

***

A month had passed since their first date. Dima was endlessly happy that he had managed to win this girl's favor. Her sharp tongue drove him crazy. Masha was so independent of male attention that it kept Dima constantly on his toes, and at every meeting he tried to surprise her. He was always coming up with new activities.

Throughout all their time together, their intimate relations hadn't gone further than French kisses. Although once, Masha had allowed Dima into the coveted place. She knew how to get him going in half a turn, and that applied not just to his car. Every time he ached with arousal, and after she sometimes, inadvertently, touched his pants, Dima's imagination would explode and millions of arousing particles would scatter throughout his body, making him tremble.

He knew Masha saw his reaction to her touches, which made her bite her lower lip. She wanted him, but Dima couldn't understand what was holding back the tigress inside the cat's body.

The lovers always met at Dima's apartment, even though the girl went home to her own place every evening. She was hiding something, and this situation didn't sit well with Dima.

One evening during dinner, Dima decided to ask his beloved why their meetings always took place at his place. He didn't mind, but he wanted to know what the girl was hiding.

Pouring wine into a glass, Dima settled down opposite Masha.

"Mash!"

"Yes."

"Do you live with your parents?"

Wine sprayed across the room, splattering Dima.

"What?" the girl laughed. "What gave you that idea?"

"You've never invited me over to your place, and I thought maybe you live with your parents."

"What nonsense," Masha smiled.

"If that's the case, then you won't mind if tomorrow I stay over at your place after we go to that new restaurant that just opened nearby," Dima knew the area where the girl lived, but not the address.

"No, I can't, I'm having renovations done."

"Renovations! Did you hire some people? When you have me, a handyman for all tasks."

"Dim, don't be offended."

"It's strange."

"Sorry," the sweet green eyes that Dima adored were fixed on him.

"Alright, I need to take a shower, I'm soaked in this, your, wine."

The girl let out an erotic giggle, covering her mouth.

"I'll clean up here in the meantime."

Dima decided to go on the counterattack. If this minx liked to play with him, then he'd decided to play with her feelings too. Standing up, he unbuttoned and took off his stained shirt. Underneath his clothes was a fairly decent and sturdy body. He didn't have six-pack abs, of course, but he didn't have a flabby stomach either.

Noticing how Masha was looking at his muscles, Dima decided to play with them a little.

Masha stood with dishes in her hands, biting her lower lip. From the way the girl squeezed her legs together, Dima understood she was aroused.

A grin spread from ear to ear on his face. After Dima took off his pants, Masha's eyes lit up with excitement. He saw how much she wanted him, but an internal leash of innocence was holding the girl back.

"If she won't give it, then we'll get her going," slipped through Dima's mind.

They spent the evening watching horror movies. The choice of genre might have pleased the hapless lover, except that Masha wasn't scared at all, which meant she didn't cling to him hoping he'd protect the poor girl. Sometimes, Masha would throw her leg over his torso, and he could stroke that smooth skin from her heel all the way up to her beautiful buttock. Things never went beyond caresses, but Dima was patient, especially after he learned that his beloved was innocent not just mentally, but physically too. Which meant for him, becoming her first man.

One afternoon, Masha called Dima.

"Hi."

"Hi, did something happen?" Dima was surprised, as Masha had never called him at work before.

"You know, I was thinking and realized that you're right, as always."

"Right about what?"

"About my apartment. I really haven't been inviting you over."

"So there's no renovation?"

"No renovation," Masha exhaled.

"Well then, I await the invitation."

"That's why I'm calling."

"Okay."

"I want to invite you over today. But it won't be just an evening like the ones we've had before."

"Okay," Dima savored the word.

"Anyway, I'll be waiting for you at my place tonight and I hope we're thinking about the same thing, namely, how this evening should end."

"I'll come."

Hanging up the phone, everything inside Dima was raging with joy. He was overflowing with wild sexual emotions.

"Finally!" his inner self screamed.

In the evening, Dima dressed up and bought two packs of condoms at the nearest pharmacy, receiving a disapproving look from the old pharmacist.

"What? What if she's insatiable!" the guy addressed the pharmacist.

In one hand he carried flowers, in the other, candy. For the first time in his life, he was nervous.

"At last," was all he kept repeating.

The door was opened by a captivating young girl with green eyes, her beautiful light brown hair neatly tucked behind her ears, revealing an arousing neck. A light blouse pleasantly hugged the girl's chest and delighted the man's eye. Masha didn't like to wear tight or provocative clothes, and this blouse was no exception, but it so advantageously emphasized everything that needed emphasizing that Dima didn't even notice anything extra. Instead of a skirt, as always, she wore tight pants.

"Hi, come in," the girl beckoned the guy into the apartment with her hand.

After undressing, Dima assessed the apartment.

"It's cozy here."

"Thanks, come into the living room."

The apartment consisted of two fairly large rooms. In the living room, a set table was already waiting. Wine was chilling in an ice bucket. Without waiting for Masha, the guy opened the bottle and poured the alcohol.

"Make yourself at home," Masha's voice came from the kitchen.

"Already am," Dima said, taking a sip of wine. Settling on the sofa, the guy watched TV, waiting for his beloved.

Looking at the paintings on the walls, Dima slowly turned his head from one side to the other. Glancing to the right, he saw two black eyes and a black nose a few centimeters from his face. Not paying attention, he took another sip, thinking it was a toy, and then it dawned on him. Jerking his head around, he saw a huge rat staring at him.

"What the hell!" Dima exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa.

At the male cry,