Translated from Russian. Native English editor welcome.
Night of No Return. Part 1. "The Game Begins"
I've always known my looks weren't exactly masculine. Not tall, not broad-shouldered -- but cute. My figure is more like a girl's: a narrow waist, slender wrists, long legs, soft shoulders, and wide hips, just like a girl's. A face with plump lips, long eyelashes, and smooth skin. I let my hair grow out and usually wore it in a ponytail. In a loose hoodie, from behind I could easily be mistaken for a girl. My voice was soft, not deep. Girls fell for me, and honestly, I could have talked any of them into bed without much effort. Get into a fight? No way -- that's not me. I'm not a fighter.
Masha and I worked in the same office. I'd always liked her. I wasn't pining for her, but whenever she walked past, I'd catch myself watching her go. The whole office watched her go. And she, the little tease, was dating Andrei. She showed me his photos once. Well, in the photo he was a hulk of a guy, six-six, burly and muscular, with a simple, dull face -- in a word, a paratrooper. Not exactly a fool, but too simple. I think that's why she broke up with him. A couple of days ago. When I found out, I decided: finally, my chance.
That evening at work, in the cafeteria, I'd grabbed some pizza for dinner when I saw Masha. Decision made: I'd make my move. First I just said hi, and then the conversation just kind of flowed. Jokes, light banter. She joked that pizza makes your butt fat. I was getting ready with a witty comeback when she suggested we have a salad instead. Then she looked at me and suddenly said:
"Come over to my place. It's boring being alone. Andrei moved out."
I was so thrilled I nearly dropped my tray.
"Sure, let's go," I blurted out without thinking.
"If you're up for it, should we order sushi?" Masha asked.
"Sure. And let's stop by the store on the way, grab some snacks," I said.
"Whiskey and Coke?" She gave me a questioning look and smiled.
"You're reading my mind."
On the way we stopped at a bar. One cocktail each, then another round. We dissected our coworkers, gossiped about everyone we knew, as if we weren't colleagues but two best girlfriends. After another cocktail the conversation got hotter and more candid. I plucked up the courage and put my hand on her knee. She looked into my eyes with a slow, sultry gaze. I stroked her leg and thigh. She didn't move my hand away. Victory! Inside I was triumphant. Lust was swelling in me. I hinted: maybe we should head out?
In the taxi we picked up where the bar had left off: I kissed her neck, her lips, ran my hands over her legs, slipped my fingers under her panties. She smelled of cocktails, perfume and desire -- the scent drove me crazy.
"All right, we're here, out you get," the cabbie said drily, pulling up at the right entrance.
We tumbled out of the car with bags full of food. I paid, and he drove off. I checked my phone: delivery delayed. Damn, I thought. Masha opened the lobby door, and we went up to her apartment.
Inside I reached for her right away, wrapped my arms around her, tried to kiss her. She responded for a second, her sweet tongue sliding across my lips, but then gently pulled away.
"Hold on," she breathed. "Bags first -- take them to the kitchen. We'll unpack, set the table, wait for the courier. Then we'll continue, sweetheart."
Reluctantly I let her go and shuffled off to the kitchen. The bags rustled, bottles clinked. I laid out the snacks while Masha moved around the room, opening a closet, rustling through clothes. She's changing, I thought. My heart skipped. Soon I'd see her in something homey. I wondered what it would be.
The footsteps faded. And then the kitchen door opened.
"Here I am," she said.
I froze. I gaped like a fish. This sultry blonde I'd only ever seen in a business suit. Her fair hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, her eyes looked slightly sleepy, but devils danced in them. Her breasts curved beautifully under the thin silk robe. For a moment I thought it was sheer and I could make out her hard nipples. Narrow waist, wide hips, long legs -- everything about her was feminine, everything screamed: I'm sexy! I devoured her with my eyes. The robe was short, delicate, champagne-colored, tied in a loose knot at the waist. Loungewear, comfortable -- but on her it looked as if it had been made for seduction.
I got hard instantly. My cock throbbed so hard it ached. I stepped toward her, pulled her in by the waist and kissed her -- hungrily, no preamble. Masha froze for a second, startled, then kissed me back. Her hands came to rest on my chest, and one slid lower; for a moment she squeezed me through my trousers. I exhaled into her mouth and squeezed her butt hard. She gasped softly and pulled back, but without anger. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her breathing uneven.
"Slow down," she whispered. "Everything in its time. Just be patient a little longer."
"Promise?" My voice was barely recognizable.
"Of course I promise. Anything you want. But first we'll set the table. I don't want everything rushed."
I nodded, though everything inside me was burning. She came into the kitchen. I laid out cheese, sliced sausage, opened the whiskey. Masha cut bread, set out plates. The kitchen was tiny, and we kept bumping into each other. I didn't miss a chance: when she reached up to a cabinet, I pressed against her from behind, rubbing my cock against her thigh. She felt it, leaned back into me a couple of times, then gave my shoulder a playful thump.
"Stop it. You're hopeless."
"You promised," I reminded her.
"Promised, promised. But not here, among the grocery bags on the kitchen table."
We set the table. Masha herself, quite casually, steered the conversation to Andrei.
"Andrei liked whiskey too, by the way," she said.
"Is he really that big?" I asked.
"Yeah, six-six," Masha nodded. "All brawn. Empty upstairs, though. Aggressive -- the slightest thing and he'd boil over. He could scream over some trifle, throw things. Once he smashed his phone against the wall because I didn't answer right away."
"And how did you put up with him for so long?"
"I thought he was my rock. Turns out he was just a brick wall. Dumb and mean. That's why I kicked him out. A couple of days ago. Told him never to show his face here again."
"Could he come back?" I tensed slightly.
Masha paused for a second, then shrugged.
"Unlikely. I told him straight: get out! I didn't change the locks, though..." She didn't finish and looked at me. "Let's not talk about him. We've got whiskey, the sushi's on its way, and the evening's getting interesting."
I pressed against her again, no longer hiding my erection. She exhaled but gently pulled away.
"Table first. Everything else after."
I grabbed a bottle of Coke; Masha got the ice. We set out plates, glasses, snacks. She kept adjusting her robe, which kept threatening to fall open and show off her sexy white lace panties -- and sometimes her bare breasts. No bra, which was a particular feast for my eyes. She looked at me with a playful smile.
"There. Almost ready."
I looked at her and felt that "almost" was the most torturous word in the language.
We finally sat down at the table. Whiskey and Coke, ice clinking in the glasses, snacks laid out. Masha sat across from me, her robe straining to fall open from the weight of her heavy breasts, which seemed to want their freedom. Slowly, unhurriedly, so I could take in every detail, she smoothed it down. I knew for certain: she was teasing me. I drank one glass, then a second. The tension eased a little, but the arousal didn't go anywhere. Lust kept building, my thoughts tangled; I could have taken her right there on the kitchen table. I put my hand on her knee, higher, higher -- I wanted under her panties. She didn't push my hand away. She just watched me with that light smile that made everything below my stomach clench.
"You've been teasing me all evening," I finally said. "I can't take it anymore."
"And what do you want?" she asked, sipping from her glass.
"Some kind of release, any kind. You know what I mean. I'm not made of iron."
She laughed -- softly, tenderly.
"Oh, I understand. You're sitting here looking at me, and you're already hard as a rock, aren't you?"
I nodded. She leaned forward slightly, her heavy breasts swaying in the neckline of her robe.
"And what would you do if we went to the bedroom right now?" she whispered. "If I took off this thin silk robe? Slowly. Untied the belt first. Then slipped one shoulder free. Then the other. Would you watch me?"
"God, yes," I forced out.
"I'd walk slowly to the bed, letting the robe slide off me. I'd climb on top of you. I'd take your strong hands and put them on my full, firm breasts. Right here." She ran her fingers along the neckline. "You'd feel how heavy they are. And then I'd kiss you. Your neck. Your lips. Your collarbone. Your chest. And I'd work my way down. Lower and lower. Do you want that?"
"Yes," I nearly moaned.
"I'd trace with my tongue from your chest all the way down. I'd pull your pants off. Set you free. Take you in my mouth. Slowly. For a long time. Until you were begging me," she whispered.
"Masha..."
"What?" She leaned back, playing coy again. "You think I don't want to? I do. But the courier hasn't come yet. And once we start, we won't stop until morning. I'm a very passionate, hot little thing, baby. I like it long and hard."
"Masha, I'm about to explode with wanting you," I said. "Let's just forget about the damn courier."
"No." She shook her head, her smile widening slightly. "Food first. Everything else after. Be patient. When the courier comes, we'll eat, and then -- anything you want. It'll be wonderful. Deal?"
"You're cruel."
"Me? Never." She looked at me, then sighed heavily, as if giving in. "Fine. All right. Quick -- but only with my mouth. Understood? The main course comes later."
"Let's go to the bedroom. But quick, okay? When the courier arrives -- then afterwards, whatever you want."
I shot up so fast I nearly knocked my chair over. She took my hand and led me to the bedroom. It was dim there, lit only by the light spilling in from the hallway. She sat me on the edge of the bed, undid my belt, the button of my trousers. I lifted my hips slightly to help her pull them down along with my underwear. I was rock hard. Masha slowly sank to her knees in front of me.
She started unhurriedly. First she ran her tongue along the whole length, bottom to top, then circled the tip with her tongue, pressing lightly. I exhaled and leaned back on my elbows. At last I'd get release. Masha took me into her mouth -- shallow, just the tip -- and began to suck, helping herself with her hand from below. Up and down, up and down -- her warm, gentle palm stroked my throbbing cock. I was in heaven. She teased me with slow circles of her tongue, pressing lightly on the most sensitive spot. The sounds she made were impossible to describe -- they were that sweet to my ears. She made loud, wet slurping sounds as she took me in. My toes curled with pleasure. Sometimes faster, sometimes slower. Now and then she let me slip from her hot, sweet mouth, ran her lips along the length and took me in again. I felt her other hand on my thigh -- her nails lightly raking the skin. I looked down at her: at the fair hair, at the rhythmically moving head.
"Masha..." I gasped through a moan. "Just a little more, don't stop... Please, keep going..."
She didn't answer, only quickened, taking me deeper. I slid into her wet mouth as deep as she could manage. I held myself back. Don't. I was dying to put my hand on the back of her fair head and push. Push hard. No, I told myself. Don't you dare. This is our first time. She'd be offended. Everything inside me was rising; the edge was approaching. Soon. Just a little more. Release. In her mouth or on her face? I hadn't asked what was allowed.
The apartment was silent, without a single stray sound. I heard nothing but the sounds Masha made with my cock in her mouth. And then my hearing was ripped apart by the deafening roar of a phone. Followed by a stupid tune from the eighties.
Damn. No! No! No! The cursed phone was ringing. In that moment I hated it with every fiber of my being. The sound seemed deafening. Was it the heat? The tune tangled with the sounds of Masha's mouth. It was ringing in the kitchen.
Masha froze. A moment -- and she let me go, wiped her lips, stood up.
"Sorry," she said quickly. "That's probably the courier. I have to answer. Don't go anywhere."
"Masha, are you serious?" I stared at her, breathing hard. "Right now? I was literally seconds from..."
"I'll be quick. Really." She was already walking to the door, adjusting her robe. "Lie there. Don't run off. I'll be back and we'll continue. I promise. And when the courier comes -- everything will be wonderful."
She left. I lay on the bed, arms spread, still aching with arousal. It hadn't gone anywhere; it pulsed, demanded more. All that remained in my head was the memory of her wet mouth. I could hear, faintly, her talking to someone on the phone. Her voice was muffled but not angry, even. Little laughs, phrases like "oh come on, seriously?" and "I'll tell you later." Didn't sound like a courier. More like a girlfriend. Or someone she was sharing something funny with. For some reason it stung -- more than it should have.
I ran a hand over my stomach but didn't touch myself. I wanted her to come back and finish what she'd started. I wanted her to see how much I wanted her. I wanted her on her knees again. I wanted sex; I wanted to see her pussy peeking out from under her lace panties. Thoughts swarmed in my head, refusing to settle, and I felt every heartbeat low in my belly.
The minutes stretched forever. She seemed to be stuck on the phone. I needed a distraction. Fine -- I'd get up, go to the bathroom. The waiting was unbearable. I stepped into the hallway and called out:
"Masha, where's your bathroom?"
"Down the hall, to the left," she called from the kitchen. "Don't lock the door, I'll be in soon too."
I nodded, though she clearly couldn't see me. The bathroom was small and bright. I splashed cold water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror -- hair mussed, ponytail coming loose, lips swollen from kisses. I relieved myself. Yes, peeing with an erection is difficult and awkward. I took a wet wipe, cleaned myself up, and realized I'd wiped away every trace of Masha. The head of my cock was oversensitive after her tongue's ministrations. I winced slightly, while my head swam with thoughts of what awaited in the bedroom. This time I'd ask her to take the robe off.
And then someone began pounding on the front door. Not ringing. Not knocking. Slamming into it with their whole body, so the door rattled on its hinges. A rough male voice bellowed:
"Masha! Open up, you bitch! I know you're home!"
Terrified, I bolted from the bathroom and rushed to the kitchen. It was empty. Another mighty blow made the walls shudder. I was shaking like a leaf. For a second I sank into numbness, standing frozen with the wipe still in my hand, like a statue. My heart sank; goosebumps crawled over my skin, and an icy chill ran down my spine. Hurried, shuffling footsteps sounded in the hallway, and a second later Masha burst in. Her eyes were huge, brimming with panic, her thin silk robe hastily clutched closed at her chest.
"It's Andrei," she gasped, breathing hard. "He showed up, the bastard. Blind drunk. Pounding like he's about to break the door down."
"I'll... I'll get dressed and get out of here," I muttered, frantically running through options in my head.
"How? Through the front door? Past Andrei?" Masha looked at me in disbelief. "Do you have a death wish?"
"This ends in a fistfight! Or rather -- in you getting beaten to a pulp." Her fingers dug painfully into my wrist.
"Be a shame to ruin such a pretty face. We need another plan," Masha was saying in a rush, still gripping my hand.
And then I heard from Masha the one thing I never wanted to hear under any circumstances. It was the total collapse of any hope.
"Damn it, the lock!" In a split second I understood the full meaning of those words.
"I didn't change it. He has keys to the apartment." Masha finished me off completely and irreversibly.
"Okay, okay, think. How much time do we have? He's drunk, very drunk, and he won't hit the keyhole on the first try. I'd say we have three minutes at most," Masha was speaking fast, stumbling over words.
"We'll have to let him in. He's coming in anyway."
"Let him in?! Are you out of your mind?" I exclaimed in panic, looking around. "I'd sooner jump out the window!"
I lunged for the kitchen window, but Masha flatly blocked my path, palms pressed against my chest. Her gaze was steely.
"Fifth floor! Where do you think you're going? Got a death wish? Want to die a hero's death? Don't be an idiot."
The photos from her phone flashed before my eyes. The six-six, square-jawed hulk with shoulders broader than the doorframe, heavy fists and a dull, aggressive face. Ex-paratrooper. Another violent shudder ran through me -- pure animal terror.
"He'll kill me right here in this apartment..." I said quietly.
"So stand right there and don't you dare do anything stupid. I'll be right back," Masha commanded, already backing toward the kitchen door. "Just sit tight. I have one crazy idea."
Vanishing into the dim hallway, she headed for the bedroom. From the room came the crash of opening doors, the rustle of hangers, her muffled cursing. Another blow followed. The front door shuddered under a powerful kick, accompanied by drunken roars:
"Masha, open up, I'm not going anywhere!"
Less than a minute later Masha was back, breathing hard. In her arms she held an armful of colorful women's clothes: silk lingerie, thin nylon stockings, a soft knit top and a short skirt.
"Change," she blurted, cramming the pile into my arms. "Move! From this moment on, you're Lena. My close girlfriend who came over for a sleepover. Got it? Lena! And for God's sake, make your voice more feminine -- speak quieter, higher."
Frustration washed over me. I stared blankly at the lace panties and elastic garters, feeling the ground give way beneath me at the absurdity of it all.
"You're serious?! I can't."
"Absolutely serious! Or would you rather Andrei find you in your underwear?" She cut me off, hard.
"We've got almost no time. Get dressed, and I'll go keep him busy." Masha spoke like it was a done deal. I had to change to save myself from physical violence. That was roughly the logic I'd built in my head to somehow justify what I was about to do.
Masha shoved me back into the bathroom. She hesitated for a second, then pulled a tube from her robe pocket and thrust it at me:
"Here -- a thick BB cream. Rub it over your face! It'll hide even a hint of stubble. And let your hair down, quick! It looks more feminine that way."
The door closed. I was left alone with myself. In the mirror -- a terrified guy with trembling hands. I squeezed a cool drop onto my fingers. It smelled cloyingly floral, like meadow grasses and something Alpine. My palms were sweaty, but I rubbed that stuff into my cheeks, forehead, and chin anyway. My skin glistened, becoming smooth and soft, almost doll-like. I let my hair down. It fell onto my shoulders, framing my face, and something familiar flashed in the mirror. The thing I'd been carefully hiding my whole life.
Nature had deprived me of masculine traits from birth. Soft, smooth facial features, not a trace of stubble, light fuzz on my body -- not hair, but adolescent downy hair. A long neck without an Adam's apple. Narrow, girlish shoulders. Smooth, silky skin that many women would envy. A slim waist, an hourglass figure. When I was fifteen, I was mistaken for a girl for the first time, and since then, men have occasionally slapped me on the butt. It annoyed and infuriated me. But I learned to live with it. As an adult, to put an end to these ridiculous scenes (drunken advances in clubs with lines like "Baby..." and apologies like "Oh, sorry, dude..."), I started tying my hair back in a ponytail and wearing rugged men's clothes, emphasizing my place among the stronger sex. And now, looking at myself in the mirror, I realized: if I add the right clothes, the ruse will work. A rush of excitement flared up inside me. And immediately after -- nausea. These emotions mixed with a primal fear, but a thought broke through it: we'll be able to fool this dim-witted monster.
I stripped off my shirt, pants, and boxers. From the pile of clothes, I picked out a pair of lace panties. Red. Sheer, with strings, and a small piece of fabric in the front. They were too small for me. I pulled them on -- they hugged my thighs, digging into my groin. My flesh twitched treacherously, pressing against the lace. I froze, listening. My body was reacting. Deep down there, there was not only fear, but something else as well. Something shameful.
I reached for the stockings. Thin, flesh-colored nylon with a matte sheen. I pulled them on -- they were thigh-high. They wrapped pleasantly around my legs, hiding the hair, and my legs became smooth, unfamiliar. I ran my hand over my thigh. Silky. Soft. My body responded again.
Masha peeked into the bathroom. I was holding a bra in my hands. Silk, with lace, resembling a sports top. The fabric stretched well. My gut told me: it's universal, it'll fit any chest -- even if there isn't one. A thought flashed through my mind: but it's comfortable. She helped me pull it over my head. The fabric squeezed my chest, and the sensation was wild, forbidden. I felt the straps dig into my shoulders, and my chest tighten. The lace caressed my skin pleasantly. And yet it was humiliating and strange. I looked in the mirror and didn't see myself. Someone else. Lena. I didn't know this woman. But she was already standing in the reflection, looking at me with fear.
I slipped on a soft blouse with a V-neck. It hugged my figure, accentuating my shoulders and a cleavage I didn't have. The skirt -- short and knit -- hugged my buttocks, highlighting a curve I hadn't noticed before. I turned sideways. A figure was reflected in the mirror. Feminine. Slender. Seductive. Something inside me tightened. It wasn't just scary. It was disgusting. And at the same time, somewhere deep in my lower abdomen, something hot and forbidden was pulsing.
A loud thud came from the hallway. Andrei was banging on the door again. I flinched. In the mirror, Lena flinched. She was pale, frightened, but beautiful. I hated her. And at the same time, I realized: she was my only chance.
Masha peeked out into the hallway. The front door lock clicked. Meanwhile, I was hiding my things in the washing machine. Masha slipped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and looked at me with a gaze full of hope:
"Lena," she reminded me sternly. "You're Lena -- remember that."
"Got it..." I exhaled in a changed voice, unusually high from nervousness, taking a step toward the unknown.
I stood there. In women's panties, stockings, a bra, and a skirt. With a cock that wasn't supposed to be erect. Fear and wild excitement mingled inside me. My heart was pounding somewhere in my throat. And one thought drilled into my brain: if he comes in, sees me like this, and figures it out -- I'm done for. But if I took this off, I'd be done for, too. The door swung open, and in that very second, Andrei barged into the apartment, heavy and loud, instantly filling the modest space of the entryway.
"Why'd it take you so long to open the door, bitch?" he growled in a hoarse, drunken bass.
"I was in the bathroom, taking a shower," Masha lied on the spot, trying to sound confident. "You're drunk as a skunk again. Why did you even come over in the middle of the night?"
"I missed you." His heavy footsteps thundered deafeningly across the laminate floor. "Are you here alone?"
"No, I'm not alone. Lena, my friend, is visiting. We're just sitting here, drinking and chatting. Don't even think about pulling one of your stupid stunts, got it!"
I froze, afraid to even breathe, and listened as this huge man strode unceremoniously through the apartment. The bedroom door burst open with a crash, then slammed shut. The footsteps were inexorably approaching the bathroom, and Masha hurried after him, trying to intercept him:
"Andrei, come on, don't barge in there! Lena's in there, she's getting ready."
The bathroom door flew open. I was standing at the sink, frantically adjusting the hem of my soft blouse. Andrei froze right in the doorway, his sheer size overwhelming the space. Six-six of pure bulk, square shoulders, a face flushed and bloodshot, and cloudy, wandering eyes. A powerful wave of expensive cologne mixed with strong alcohol wafted from him -- a heavy, stifling blend of man and aged whiskey. The smell instantly filled my nose. He stared intently at me, trying to focus his gaze.
"Oh..." he drawled blankly, eyeing me from head to toe. "Hi, baby."
"Hi," I replied quietly, shuddering inwardly at how soft, frightened, feminine, and high-pitched my voice sounded -- the fear had gripped my throat. How could I not be scared? Andrei filled the entire doorway. A hulk. He'd looked smaller in the photo. I'd only ever seen guys that huge in the movies. Six-six, ripped, biceps as big as my head; you could even make out his defined muscles under his shirt. Six-pack abs. A powerful neck, broad shoulders. His legs were as thick as my torso. Next to him, I was a twig. His scent, his appearance -- in a word, everything screamed that he was a real man. "And why did Masha leave him?" I found myself asking. Oh, right: he's dumb and aggressive.
He blinked slowly. His hazy gaze swept over my legs, sheathed in sheer stockings, lingered on my short skirt, and then rose to my face, which was covered in foundation. Something didn't add up in his alcohol-fogged mind. For a split second, he froze, trying to figure out what was off, but the alcohol had dulled his logic, and he never did realize exactly what had struck him as strange.
"Ah, right..." he drawled, grinning crookedly. "A girlfriend, then."
Masha was standing right behind his broad back -- deathly pale, but inwardly composed, like a taut string.
"We were sitting in the kitchen, talking about our girl stuff, until you showed up," she quickly interjected, gently nudging him in the shoulder. "Come on, I'll pour you something strong. Just promise you won't cause a scene. Behave yourself -- don't embarrass me."
Andrei gave me another heavy, scrutinizing look, then nodded heavily and let Masha lead him away. I exhaled sharply and convulsively, feeling a cold sweat run down my back. I'd gotten off easy. The primal fear receded for a moment -- he really hadn't recognized me. Sounds came from the hallway: Masha clinked glasses, then there was a muffled creak of a chair -- Andrei had sunk heavily into a chair in the kitchen.
Before I could even catch my breath, Masha slipped back into the bathroom, closing the door tightly behind her and pressing her back against it. Her wide eyes glistened in the dim light of the lamps.
"That asshole's staying," she whispered feverishly, gasping for air. "He says he'll hang out with us and have a drink."
"So what do we do now?" I asked in the same barely audible whisper, feeling my knees start to shake.
"Nothing. We'll keep fooling him. Now you're Lena. For the whole evening, until he clears out. We'll just go out, sit down at the table, drink, and talk. Like two close friends. Do you get it?"
I nodded slowly, glancing at the mirror. Reflected back at me was a fragile girl with disheveled hair and the wild, frightened eyes of a hostage. I looked at her and realized that never in my life had I been so close to complete collapse. Masha quickly pulled a plump makeup bag out of her robe pocket.
"Freeze," she ordered.
I was afraid to even twitch. I was breathing in short, uneven gasps. She stepped right up close, confidently took me by the chin, and turned my face toward the bright light above the sink. Her fingers were cool and damp.
"Close your eyes. I'm going to turn you into a cutie right now," she whispered.
I obediently closed my eyes, shutting out my vision. From then on, I could only feel her touch through my skin: she ran something soft across my eyelids, then glided a thin brush over them, tracing the outline with eyeliner. I could physically feel the eyeshadow, mascara, and blush being applied to my skin, layer by layer. Finally, lipstick touched my lips -- moist, slightly sticky, with a cloying berry scent. Masha took a step back, assessing her work.
"All done. It turned out great. Open your eyes."
I opened my eyes wide and stared at the glass surface. An unfamiliar, incredibly beautiful young woman was looking back at me from the mirror. My features had become soft and smooth; my lips looked plump and moist from the lipstick; and the professionally applied eyeshadow made my gaze deep and alluring. The blush perfectly accentuated my high cheekbones, concealing any masculine features. I didn't even recognize myself. She was a true beauty.
"But that's..." I was simply speechless with shock.
"It's you, but tonight you'll be Lena," Masha whispered softly, admiring the result. "Only now you look exactly the way you need to to fool that drunken fool."
I shook my head in fear, stepping back. A wave of uncontrollable panic washed over me.
"No... Masha, I can't do this. This is madness. We'll get caught. I'll just quietly slip home right now, while he's sitting in the kitchen."
"You're not leaving," she said, stepping toward me and squeezing my hand so tightly it hurt. Her eyes were mesmerizing.
"Listen to me carefully. Stop being a coward -- half the job is already done. If you start fretting now, he'll definitely expose us. And it'll all end in a fight. Everything worked out. Don't worry. Trust me. Let's play this out to the end. He mustn't suspect a thing. Sit with him. We'll talk. We'll have a drink. That's exactly what we were planning to do anyway. Play along with me -- just hang in there a little longer. He'll drink his share, and we'll gently send him off to sleep or show him the door, and then... then I'll pick up right where we left off in the bedroom. I promise." She pressed herself right up against me. Her hand slid confidently under my skirt and squeezed my cock through my tight briefs. She whispered in my ear, driving my libido to the limit:
"You remember how my sweet little tongue danced pirouettes on your velvety head. I'll take your cock all the way down my throat. Didn't I tell you? I know how to give a very deep throat blowjob -- I'll take you right down to the base. I'll reach your balls with my tongue. Has anyone ever done that to you?"
Her insinuating, promising whisper and the warmth of her hand under my skirt instantly ignited a wild, wicked arousal with renewed intensity. My heart began to pound faster, my mind started to cloud over, and my cock down below began to swell rapidly with heaviness again, pressing against the tight lace of a stranger's panties. The very thought of this dangerous, dirty game made my head spin.
"You... you really promise?" I asked quietly, yielding to her will.
"I promise you anything you want, sweetie. Just be patient for our sake," Masha smiled wickedly and led me toward the door.
I exhaled deeply, finally giving in, and obediently followed her into the kitchen.
Masha flung open the bathroom door with a confident motion, and we stepped into the dimly lit hallway. I tried with all my might to control my every movement: I walked softly, carefully, swaying my hips slightly in the unusually tight skirt, just like real girls do. Masha walked half a step ahead, her whole demeanor radiating absolute calm and a readiness to play along at any moment.
In the kitchen, Andrei sat at the head of the table, sprawled across his chair like the master of the house. An opened bottle of whiskey and an empty faceted glass already sat before him. When we appeared, he raised his head with difficulty, fixing a cloudy, wandering gaze on us.
"What took you guys so long?" he boomed, squinting in displeasure.
"We were touching up Lenochka's makeup," Masha replied in a perfectly even, matter-of-fact tone as she walked over to the fridge. "And we were discussing purely women's issues -- our periods. You'd better stay out of this, Andryusha."
Andrei gave a hollow chuckle, then shifted his hazy gaze to me. His bloodshot eyes slowly, scrutinizingly slid down my legs in the sheer nylon stockings, moved up to my hips hugged by the skirt, appraised the neckline of my blouse, and lingered on my face. That gaze burned into me. I felt uneasy. It was the first time anyone had looked at me so intently and with such blatant lust. A drunken, slightly crooked but thoroughly good-natured smirk appeared on his lips. There was no longer any hint of aggression. I exhaled.
"Lena's not bad," he said, nodding approvingly. "She's a very pretty little thing."
"Thanks for the compliment..." I replied quietly, trying to soften my voice as much as possible so it sounded timid and girlish, and at the same time I gave him a slight smile.
Masha gracefully sank into a chair on one side of the table; Andrei was sitting across from her. I hesitated in the aisle for just a second. Where was I supposed to go? Then I reluctantly took a seat right between them. Finding myself in the center of their attention, sandwiched between them, I froze. It was cramped under the table, and I felt my stocking-clad leg gently brush against someone else's knee. I never figured out whose leg it was -- Masha's or Andrei's. I froze with fear, afraid to move.
Meanwhile, Andrei lazily poured himself another shot of whiskey, mixed it with cola, and, unable to find a spoon, stirred the drink with a thick index finger in a drunken, careless gesture. A large ice cube clinked against the crystal walls with a wet thud. The man leaned back in his chair, and the old furniture creaked plaintively and menacingly under his six-six frame.
"Well, tell me, sweetheart," he drawled lazily, propping his chin on his fist. "And what do you do for a living?"
I opened my mouth in alarm, at first not realizing that "sweetheart" was him addressing me. Then, frantically searching for the right words to answer him, wondering what story to tell: Who am I? Who is Lena? Why is she Masha's friend? For a few seconds, I lost touch with reality. Masha noticed that I'd zoned out, and at that very moment I felt a warm hand rest on my knee under the table. Long, slender fingers... Masha. I recognized her touch instantly. She gently squeezed my leg, then slowly, sensually ran her hand up my silky stocking, edging toward the very hem of my skirt. These actions brought me back to reality. Taken by surprise, I flinched noticeably and glanced at her in alarm. Masha continued to look at Andrei calmly, even a little bored, as if her hand weren't currently tracing that wicked, forbidden path. And she wasn't trying to calm me down that way.
"What do you mean...?" I asked, confused, having completely lost my train of thought because of the heat flaring up in my lower abdomen.
"Where do you work, I'm asking?" Andrei repeated good-naturedly, attributing my hesitation to mere embarrassment.
"In an office," Masha quickly interjected, coming to my rescue. "At the same company as me. In the purchasing department one floor below. That's why you haven't met her before."
"Ah, so you're coworkers," the giant nodded knowingly, taking a deep sip from his glass. "Well, that's good."
Meanwhile, Masha continued to confidently stroke my thigh under the table. Her fingers moved slowly, almost weightlessly, rising higher and higher. The fabric of my skirt was thin, and I could feel every movement of her hand down to the finest detail. My flesh was already swollen to the limit, pressing painfully against the tight lace. Inside, I was burning with panic: I was terrified that if I so much as shifted in my chair or changed my posture, Andrei would notice a movement unnatural for a man. I sat upright, as if on pins and needles, afraid to even breathe. Sometimes I didn't breathe at all.
"And you, Andrei... what do you do?" I asked, just to distract him from my crimson face.
"I'm in business," he snapped curtly, squinting contentedly. "Construction. There's money in it, but there's never enough time for everything."
Masha leaned smoothly toward me, pretending she was just reaching across the table for her glass of wine. For a split second, her lips were right by my ear, burning my skin with her hot, rapid breath:
"You're incredibly handsome, sweetie. I can barely keep myself from taking you right here in front of him," she whispered barely audibly.
In that very moment, her hand slid even higher, resting confidently on the soft inner thigh, right at the lacy edge of my underwear. I clenched my teeth convulsively, holding back a sigh that was bursting to escape. Masha gave a wicked smile with just her lips and, as if nothing had happened, turned back to her ex-boyfriend.
"He's a good guy, a hard worker," she said with a touch of irony, looking at Andrei. "It's just that he drinks too much -- he gets out of control -- and he gets rowdy sometimes. Stay a while, have a bite to eat with these lovely ladies, and then head home."
Andrei gave a drunken, indulgent chuckle, swirling his glass:
"That won't work -- I can't drive while I'm drunk."
"Call a cab -- don't be a fool," Masha snapped at him.
"Masha, Masha, come on, don't kick me out -- I won't be long. I don't want to drag myself all the way across town to the other end, only to come back tomorrow. Plus, I'll have to leave my car here in the courtyards."
"Until I hear some good reasons," Masha stood her ground, trying to get him to leave.
"My buddy's here, Seryoga -- we served together. I haven't seen him in ages since I got out of the army. I arranged to meet him in the neighborhood: a new sauna just opened, and I wanted to take him there to hang out, have a drink, and reminisce about the old days. And you're kicking me out."
"I'll stay over at your place one more time. And I'll leave tomorrow. I won't bother you. I promise."
"I really hope so," she snapped.
Listening to their conversation, I felt a panic attack wash over me. He won't leave. He's staying. Why did Masha agree to this? How am I going to get out of this situation?
Under the table, her hand made another slow, deliberate movement -- this time she ran her palm the entire length of my thigh, from my knee all the way to the top, causing the thin fabric of my skirt to stretch tight across my buttocks. Her fingers were hot, wet, and frighteningly confident. Masha pressed a little harder on my sensitive spot, and my vision literally went blurry. Lust clouded my mind; fear was slowly but surely receding. To keep from moaning out loud from this sweet torture, I frantically grabbed my glass and took a big gulp of whiskey and Coke, just to keep my trembling hands occupied somehow.
"Lena, aren't you afraid to walk around the city alone this late?" Andrei asked, reaching for the whiskey bottle again. "These are turbulent times."
"Masha's walking me home," I replied, trying to look him straight in the eyes -- which were clouded -- while under the table, Masha's fingers continued to slowly caress me. "I'm not scared at all with her."
"That's the right attitude," he nodded approvingly, exhaling a loud cloud of alcohol fumes. "You can't go out alone these days. The streets are full of all kinds of jerks."
Under the table, Masha gently but insistently pushed my knees apart, forcing me to spread my legs a little wider. Completely losing control of myself, I obediently submitted to this silent command. Her cool palm rested confidently on the tender inner thigh, and her thumb moved slowly, lingeringly upward, making its way toward my groin. That unhurried glide made my lower abdomen tighten with pleasure, and with my heart in my throat, I felt my lace panties grow tight.
Masha leaned toward me smoothly again, pretending she was just adjusting the paper napkin by my plate, and whispered scorching words right onto my lips:
"Hang in there a little longer, sweetie. Don't worry about him staying. I can tell you're getting nervous. He'll finish his drink in a minute and pass out. He's a soldier -- they sleep like logs; you couldn't wake them with a cannon shot. No one will bother us. I'll be all yours. My wet, silky pussy will be yours alone. There's a fire between my legs. I'm burning with desire. He'll fall asleep, and I'll give you a night so wild you'll completely forget your own name. I promise. Everything you've ever dreamed of, everything I've ever told you... and even more."
I looked into her eyes in fear -- in their darkened depths, something wicked and promising danced, stripping away any remnants of willpower. Wild lust. She sat up straight again, assuming her former imperturbable demeanor, as if nothing had happened.
Andrei downed the last of his whiskey in one gulp and set the empty glass down on the table with a heavy thud. The ice left at the bottom clinked quietly and lonely against the crystal. A hollow silence reigned in the kitchen for a moment, broken only by the steady hum of the old refrigerator. The hulking man leaned back deeply in his chair and stared at me. His long, drunken, scrutinizing gaze made me cringe inwardly. Once again, he was devouring me with his eyes. He tilted his head slightly to one side, and a heavy, relaxed smile spread across his face.
"You really are damn beautiful, sweetie Lena," he boomed, nodding with satisfaction. "Masha, why the hell did you hide such high-class girlfriends from me before, huh?"
Masha just smiled indulgently, leaving his question unanswered.
Under the table, her hand still rested on my thigh, continuing to slowly, tenderly stroke the nylon stocking stretched over my leg. And suddenly, from the opposite side, another hand settled on my other thigh. Huge, frighteningly heavy, and hot as a flatiron. A moment of confusion. It was Andrei's hand. His massive fingers unceremoniously covered my leg right at the hem of my short skirt and began to move up and down slowly and imperiously, burning me with their heat.
I was literally frozen in place. Masha didn't see his gesture; Andrei didn't notice her caresses. Both hands moved across my body in sync, and neither of them even suspected the other's existence. This chaos of touch made my head spin. I cast a wild glance at Andrei -- he was looking at me relaxed and smiling drunkenly at his lewd thoughts. I looked at Masha -- she was thoughtfully examining the last drops of wine in her glass, biting her lip almost imperceptibly. Should I scream? Confess everything? Put an end to this mad charade? Stand up and leave? Fear and the lust that paralyzed my body forced me to stay silent and hunch in my chair. Each of them was caressing me.
We sat there in that suffocating tension for a while longer. Andrei lazily poured himself another drop of alcohol into the bottom of his glass, let out a muffled grunt, drained the glass, and, completely dazed, closed his heavy eyelids. Barely a minute had passed when his head fell limply onto his shoulder, and the first ragged, drunken snore burst from his chest.
Masha waited a little longer, making sure her ex-boyfriend was firmly mired in alcoholic oblivion, then leaned smoothly toward me across the entire table. Her face was so close that I could see every individual eyelash. She pressed her slender index finger to her moist lips.
"Shh..." she breathed, barely audibly. "That's it, he's out cold. Now you're my kitty."
And right then she kissed me -- gently, unhurriedly, drawing my lips deep into hers. Her hand under the table immediately sprang into action, sliding up my thigh and crumpling the fabric of my skirt. I shuddered convulsively at the contrast and glanced fearfully at Andrei. The giant's head still rested on his shoulder, his eyelids tightly closed. He's asleep.
Masha continued to caress me shamelessly, and I could feel my cock swelling with new intensity, while my tight underwear became pure torture. Andrei couldn't see any of this -- he was asleep. And Masha had no idea that just a minute ago, her ex's enormous hand had been lying right there in that very spot. I was torn apart by fear: I was afraid that Andrei would open his eyes right then, realize there was a guy in front of him, and all hell would break loose. But I was even more afraid that this dirty game would end.
And at that moment, Andrei shifted heavily in his chair. Masha instantly, like a startled cat, pulled her hand away and sat back down in her seat. The man muttered something muffled and indistinct, without even opening his eyes:
"Masha... hey, Masha... come here... you bitch."
Blindly, driven solely by animal instinct, he stretched out his enormous arm and grabbed me around the waist with a death grip. Taken by surprise, I didn't have time to make a sound. Andrei yanked me toward him with a short, powerful tug. The next second, I found myself sitting right on his lap -- with my back to his massive chest and my face toward Masha, who didn't understand what had just happened.
His burning hands instantly wrapped around my waist, pressing me tightly against his torso. With a drunken sigh, the paratrooper buried his nose in my neck, tickling my skin with his stubble, and exhaled hot air noisily onto the back of my head. I froze, afraid even to breathe. My heart was pounding wildly somewhere in my throat. I felt the enormous difference in our sizes: from the outside, it looked almost like a caricature -- a petite girl on her knees before a hulking man. Through my back, I could feel the scorching heat of his torso and his rock-hard abdominal muscles. It was an iron grip.
In a panic, I stared at Masha, seeking salvation. She watched as the former paratrooper held me tight in his embrace, but there wasn't a trace of fear in her eyes. On the contrary, a new, dark, and triumphant flame flared up in them. She slowly pressed her finger to her lips again, never taking her eyes off me.
"Don't be afraid, Lenochka..." she whispered seductively, barely audibly. "Relax. Everything's fine. Just bear with it a little for our sake..."
Andrei began to kiss my neck heavily and wetly, without even opening his heavy eyelids. His stiff, prickly stubble pierced my tender skin. Moving higher, he reached my ear, bit down wickedly on the sensitive lobe, and exhaled hot air noisily into it. I jerked convulsively at this intimate contrast, but his enormous hands held my waist firmly, leaving me no chance to pull away. At the same time, his massive, burning palm slid lower, beginning to slowly and imperiously stroke my legs from the knee up along the silky nylon of my stockings. Completely numb, I had absolutely no idea what to do with my own hands or where to hide my frightened gaze.
In an instant, I felt something firm and hard beneath me. I didn't want to admit it; I didn't want to face reality. I knew: it was Andrei's cock. I was sitting in my seat, in my lace panties, on this giant's cock. Its size terrified me. Even with my butt, I could feel that his cock was enormous. I was struck by a wild, mind-consuming thought: did he get hard because of me? No, I pushed those thoughts aside. He said, "Masha, come to me." He's thinking about Masha. He's caressing Masha, not Lena. Masha. I built a line of defense in my mind. Having resolved my inner dilemma, I shifted my gaze to Masha and beckoned her with my finger.
At that moment, Masha rose smoothly from her chair and approached us silently, coming right up close. Leaning in, she enveloped me in the scent of her perfume, and her loose hair brushed gently against my face.
"Masha, Masha, he's got a hard-on. His huge cock is hard beneath me -- I'm sitting on it. I can feel it with my butt." I spoke quietly, stammering so as not to wake the big guy, in a whisper, but it was clear: I was flustered and disoriented.
Masha smiled slightly, but that smile revealed her entire wild, lustful nature.
"Why are you so nervous? Calm down." Her gentle hand traced my face, caressing and soothing me. Like a hypnotized rabbit, I listened to her whisper.
"I already told you, sweetie, you're sexy, a little sweet treat, and I want to eat you up too. No wonder Andrei grabbed you. Don't worry, he's half asleep. He won't do anything. Everything's fine. See, he's just kissing you gently. He'll fall completely asleep in a minute."
She imperiously captured my lips, pressing them in a slow, deep kiss, as if trying to completely distract me from what was happening behind us. Her cool palm gently rested on my cheek, holding my head in place.
Andrei, lost in a haze of alcohol, didn't see a thing -- he continued to possessively cover my neck and the back of my head with kisses. Masha, even though she saw his heavy fingers crumpling the nylon on my thigh, merely bit my tongue playfully, pretending that everything was fine. At that moment, two people were caressing me. One -- roughly, forcefully, from behind, scorching the back of my neck with hoarse breath, pressing his swollen cock against me, and imperiously stroking my legs with a heavy hand. The other -- gently, sinfully, from the front, intoxicating me with a kiss and running her fingers over my cheekbones. And neither of them seemed to notice the other's presence on my body. I sat there, curled up into a ball, lost in this forbidden, sensual chaos. My mind screamed in panic, but my body reacted on its own: my arousal had swelled to the point of pain, and beneath my short skirt, everything was burning with pent-up heat. At some point, I lost track of where Masha ended and Andrei began; everything merged into one, and I went with the flow.
And suddenly, Andrei beneath me grew noticeably heavier. His ragged breathing slowed, turning into deep, infrequent sighs, and his steel-like arms around my waist noticeably weakened. With a muffled groan, he buried his face right into my shoulder and fell completely silent. I felt his massive head drop limply, and his entire six-six frame went completely limp, turning into an unmovable weight. He had fallen asleep. The sleeping giant's dead weight bore down on me. I froze, afraid to make even the slightest movement, and looked at Masha in fear. She slyly covered her mouth with her palm, barely holding back a wicked giggle.
"See, I told you everything would be fine. That's it, he's ready," she said in a barely audible, triumphant whisper. "He's definitely asleep. Can you hear him snoring?"
I listened closely. Andrei's heavy, deep, and steady snoring was indeed coming from my shoulder. His hands still lay limply on my thighs, but his former grip had vanished.
"Now we're going to tuck him in for the night," Masha leaned over me slyly, a dangerous sparkle flashing in her eyes. "Let's drag this boar into the bedroom. We'll put him on the bed, and then... I'm going to ride you. I did promise you, my little bitch. My panties are soaking wet. I have some absolutely huge, unforgettable plans for you tonight."
After she said "little bitch," I realized: Masha was going wild with lust. And I loved it. I wanted her to ride me tirelessly until morning, on my rock-hard cock. Of course, I was a little jealous that this hunk had such a massive thing in his pants. But it was just male envy: I wish I had one like that. Anyway, while that hunk was lifting weights in his sleep, I'd be banging Masha. The evening was finally picking up steam. I felt a surge of energy and a new wave of strength.
We struggled to get up. I carefully, trying not to make a sound, freed myself from his embrace. The paratrooper mumbled something indistinctly in his sleep, but didn't open his eyes. Clutching him on both sides -- me on the right, Masha on the left -- we dragged him out of the kitchen, straining with all our might. Andrei was incredibly heavy, like a giant sack of wet sand. His head dangled helplessly from side to side, and his massive legs stumbled awkwardly across the laminate floor. He kept mumbling incoherently -- either calling for Masha or demanding another drink. As we dragged him down the narrow hallway, I was literally choked by a pungent, clinging odor: expensive perfume and whiskey.
Once we reached the bedroom, we tried to turn him around at the very edge of the bed so we could gently lay him on his back. But at the last moment, the drunken giant suddenly toppled sideways, dragging us with him. Masha let out a frightened scream, I lost my balance, and in the next second, all three of us crashed onto the wide blanket with a dull thud.
The fall scattered us in different directions: I ended up to Andrei's right, Masha to his left. The hulk lay flat between us, his powerful arms spread wide, and continued to sleep peacefully, filling the room with his low snoring.
For a while, we just lay motionless, afraid to even breathe for fear of shattering this fragile stillness. Andrei was breathing noisily, with a whistling sound. Finally, Masha gently propped herself up on one elbow and looked intently first at him, then turned her burning, promising gaze toward me. She leaned slightly over her ex-boyfriend's face, peering at his closed eyelids.
"He's asleep..." she whispered sinfully, and that very predatory smile blossomed on her lips. "He's definitely asleep, sweetie. Now we can begin..."
I nodded silently, unable to look away. My heart was still pounding wildly, but the heat paralyzing my body showed no sign of letting up. On the contrary, everything beneath my short skirt was burning unbearably, and the tight lace felt scorching, turning into pure torture. Masha slowly, shamelessly ran her tongue over her swollen lips.
"I can't take it anymore, my girl..." the aroused beauty breathed out with a gasp.
She smoothly stretched her whole body toward me, right over Andrei's motionless body. Yielding to an invisible impulse, I, too, propped myself up on my elbow, leaning toward her. Our lips met somewhere in the middle of his massive, sweat-covered chest. Her lips were incredibly soft, warm, and wet. Masha immediately kissed me deeply, greedily, confidently pushing her tongue into my mouth, and I responded with all the passion that had built up inside me. In that moment, I completely forgot about Andrei, about the mortal danger, and about the whole world around us. All that existed was Masha's intoxicating taste, her gliding tongue, and the ragged, hot breath we shared between us.
And suddenly, right beneath us, Andrei stirred heavily and flung open his cloudy, bloodshot eyes.
"Fuck... girls, you're fucking amazing..." he muttered hoarsely, his voice muffled.
Drunk, staying conscious solely on the remnants of his paratrooper's stubbornness, Andrei broke into a broad, predatory grin, like a hunter who'd spotted his prey. He genuinely believed he'd caught the wild stroke of luck of his entire life by the tail. But in that very second, I froze, feeling a tight knot form inside me -- a mix of wild fear, burning shame, and some new, dark attraction for which I couldn't find a name.
"Look at him, how happy he is," Masha said with a light chuckle, leaning forward and playfully but firmly biting Andrei's chin. "Come on, close your eyes. Go to sleep already -- your time's up."
"Are you out of your mind?" Andrei shook his head drunkenly, stubbornly keeping his gaze fixed on us. "I want to watch. No way am I going to sleep now. There's such a show going on here."
"Seriously? You want to watch girls kiss?" she asked defiantly, with obvious intensity, shifting her gaze from him to me.
Andrei bit his lower lip lustfully; his breathing grew faster and heavier.
"Well then, Lenochka, shall we show our boy how girls do it?" Masha stared intently at me, and a dangerous, goading spark flashed in her eyes. She was testing my limits.
"Of course we will..." I blurted out in a changed, high-pitched voice, without giving the consequences a second thought. My mind was completely clouded by alcohol, panic, and a wild surge of desire.
My unexpected boldness made Masha's eyes widen for a split second, but she immediately smiled predatorily:
"You little minx... Your words just gave me goosebumps. Come to me, sweetheart."
And we melted into a deep, endless kiss right in front of Andrei's face. Her lips, soft and moist, now carried a distinct, tart aftertaste of aged whiskey. I could physically feel her supple tongue teasingly gliding over mine, our hot breath mingling into an intoxicating cocktail. All the while, I could feel Andrei's heavy, hungry gaze -- a gaze that was literally undressing me -- resting on me from below. The realization that this massive man was watching us intently made the kiss feel incredibly wicked, dirty, and intoxicating.
"Hey... what about me?" Andrei interrupted us hoarsely, with obvious desire.
Masha reluctantly pulled away from my lips and looked down at his face, flushed with lust.
"What do you mean, 'me,' silly? Are you going to order me to kiss you, too?"
"I... want it, too."
"What am I supposed to do with you? You're like a little kid," she drawled with a feigned sigh and smoothly moved from my lips to his. I froze, watching their kiss from the sidelines.
I watched as her light, silky hair fell across his face, as his tattooed, massive hand rested possessively on the back of her neck, clasping her hair. And then Andrei pulled away from her with a wet sound and stared straight at me.
"And Lenochka...? Will Lenochka kiss me?"
At those words, a real icy chill ran down my spine. All my masculine pride evaporated completely, giving way to a panicked, animalistic fear. Masha looked at me -- warmly, gently, soothingly -- and I froze, unable to move a single muscle. In an instant, her lips had already glided to my ear, scorching my earlobe with a hot whisper:
"Come on, my girl, don't blow it -- hang in there until the end. Play along with him. Remember what reward awaits you afterward..."
As she spoke, her hand shot under my short skirt, beneath the tight lace, and for a second squeezed the swollen flesh firmly. It was a direct, unambiguous reminder of her promise. I flinched, my back arching. I barely had time to turn my head -- and saw Andrei's massive hand shoot upward.
The paratrooper clamped his fingers around the back of my neck with an iron grip and forcefully, irresistibly pulled my frightened face toward his lips.
