A Christmas Fairy Tale
The car stubbornly refused to obey. Once again, the little Zhiguli slid onto the soft shoulder and buried its nose in a snowdrift. The windshield wipers swept back and forth helplessly, powerless to clear the windshield. The headlights' beam hit a solid wall of swirling snow.
"And on top of everything, I'm lost,"
Viktor thought irritably, turned off the engine, and got out of the car. The silence of the winter night immediately descended upon him with the huge paws of the fir trees.
He hadn't liked Slavka's idea of celebrating Christmas at the dacha from the very beginning, but arguing was pointless. Slavka had gotten it into his head and didn't want to hear any objections.
"I'll provide the female company, and you
handle everything else and swing by in the evening," he had said, enthusiastically drawing a map of how to get to his dacha, getting more and more inspired by the grandiosity of his own idea.
After rushing around the city all morning buying everything needed, Viktor then spent over an hour driving around the narrow streets of the dacha settlement, trying to find the right place using Slavka's map. Already in the twilight, tired and angry, he stopped by a brightly lit house, from every crack of which some vulgar music was blaring. He was met by a company already quite warmed up by that time, including the fairer sex. Like all colorless women, they tried hard to cover their shortcomings with inappropriate whims.
"A backup option," Slavka justified himself, squinting his drunken, nearsighted eyes. "Everyone else refused. I persuaded these ones at the last moment."
The "backup option" with her drunken advances finally got on Viktor's nerves, and after a heated argument with Slavka, he gave up on everything and left. And now, instead of celebrating Christmas in a cozy apartment with good company, he was stuck here in the middle of a night forest, not knowing what to do.
Viktor felt himself starting to freeze. Shaking himself, he reached into his pocket for cigarettes, then looked around. Somewhere in the forest, through the blizzard, a light flickered. Lighting a cigarette, Viktor turned up his jacket collar and resolutely stepped between the fir trees. He struggled through the snowdrifts for a long time until he came out onto a small clearing, at the edge of which stood a tiny hut, buried in snow up to its windows. His hat and gloves were left in the car. It was becoming unbearably cold. Shivering all over and trying to warm his palms with his breath, Viktor approached the hut and peeked in the window.
In the middle of the dimly lit room stood a huge table, cobbled together from rough planks. On the table, between two mirrors, a candle was burning. On a stool sat a girl with a sheepskin coat thrown over her naked body and felt boots on her feet. Her lush dark hair, in loose strands, covered her face and the collar of the coat. She was whispering something, looking first into one mirror, then the other. On the edge of the table, lazily watching this, lay a fat black cat.
His teeth chattering, completely frozen stiff, Viktor walked around the hut and with difficulty climbed onto the porch. The door, creaking, opened easily, letting him inside. Catching his foot on something, he stumbled through the dark entryway and, pushing open the second door, tumbled into the room, enveloped in clouds of frosty vapor.
Two pairs of surprised eyes stared at him. The round, feline ones expressed nothing but ordinary curiosity. The others, huge and unblinking, were striking in their depth. They attracted and mesmerized, somehow immediately forcing unconditional obedience.
Whether from that intense gaze or from the warmth that surrounded him on all sides, Viktor's head began to spin. Everything swam before his eyes. Through the oncoming sleep, with some edge of his consciousness, he felt gentle hands leading him somewhere.
He was brought back to life by a quiet whisper and the scent of a woman's body. Completely naked, he lay on his back, arms spread out to the sides, unable to move. Warmth, rolling in waves, filled his body. The girl sat beside him and, swaying her loose hair, stroked him with her hands. In the flickering candlelight before him, appearing and disappearing, floated her plump cheeks, swan-like neck, smooth oval of her shoulders, and small, dazzlingly white breasts with sharp little nipples that trembled with her every movement.
Viktor felt the warmth spreading through him, boiling, beginning to turn into a heat that pressed and strained to break out. He tried to move, but at that same instant a small hand firmly grasped his flesh, forcing obedience. A moist little mouth, kissing his knees, began to move up his body. His breath caught. erotic stories After the tender touches of her lips, her hair crawled in two streams. Sharp little nipples, like flashing little stars, jumped after them. The little mouth reached the hand holding Viktor and pushed it aside. Her lips tightly enveloped him. And immediately her tongue greedily took possession of everything. Caressing and tormenting, it ruled over the man insistently and completely. Having had its fill, the lips unclenched, giving respite and mercy. The girl leaned over and covered Viktor with a long kiss, showering his face with a mass of thick hair. Before he could recover, he felt a velvety, firm little belly moving up his body, which was immediately stopped by what could no longer bear to wait.
The girl rose up, opened herself completely, and, arching, began to lower herself onto the seething, calling flesh. Slowly filling herself, she let him feel every moment of overcoming something tender, enveloping, pleasantly resisting. But at some point she couldn't hold back and with a wrenching moan swiftly took the man into herself completely, pressing her stomach against him and throwing back her head. She trembled and writhed, allowing and demanding him to be inside her. Viktor embraced her hips, helping her to give herself over more, stronger, deeper. He thrashed, pressed, strained inside her. The peak of passion drowned in the moans of both.
The girl, breathing heavily, rose wearily, stroked his cheek, and, regaining her power over him, whispered in a low voice:
"Now sleep."
Plummeting into the abyss, Viktor managed to be surprised that he was hearing her voice for the first time.
A stubborn ray of winter sun forced him to wake up. Viktor looked around in surprise. He was lying on a bed, covered with a colorful quilt, in a bright, clean little room. By the window, a little old man with a beard grown up to his nose was fussing with something. On the windowsill, a fat black cat was squinting in the bright sun.
"Awake?" the old man smiled at him.
"My granddaughter told me you almost froze to death yesterday. I'm the forester here," he said, clearly having been eager to chat with his guest.
"Granddaughter?" Viktor asked, getting dressed. The old man smiled again:
"Yes, Polinka. She was visiting me for the holidays. She left this morning."
"A shame. I could have given her a ride," Viktor said thoughtfully, sitting down at the table.
"Your car is fine. It's on the road. Will you have some tea? I put the samovar on as soon as I got back," the forester went on...
The little Zhiguli surprisingly quickly made its way through the sparkling winter forest to the highway. Viktor loved driving. Flying along the wide, packed road towards the clear, frosty day, he smiled, trying to remember the events of that amazing, fairy-tale night.