Viktor Petrovich returned home a little faster than usual; he was released from work due to the lack of electricity at the plant. He worked as a machine operator at a sewing factory, a boring, daily job, without any career prospects. And in his personal life there is no beauty, a gray little wife, snotty offspring, even on vacation and he is busy digging potatoes instead of resorts.

But this year, my job didn’t allow me to take leave, so I had to work hard, and sent my wife to the village to live with her parents. After changing clothes and taking a shower, Viktor Petrovich went to the kitchen to prepare himself something to eat, when suddenly the doorbell rang. Surprised, Viktor Petrovich opened the door, looking with interest at who might come to him, because he doesn’t even really have friends, much less girlfriends. In front of the door stood a neighbor from the third floor, not a young, but very attractive woman, with a rather beautiful figure, for her age, and her appearance ca... continue reading

There weren’t very many things, but the guys got tired of carrying them to the third floor by hand. The elevator, as is customary in new buildings, was not yet working and we spent a good two hours lifting bulky and not very good things up the stairs. After that, as expected, he set the table for them and treated them normally. The mood was high, as the long-awaited apartment was a real gift. The large three-room apartment, while it was empty of things, was frightening with its size. I received it on occasion in a home for military personnel. The house was not completely inhabited, and, naturally, I didn’t know the neighbors at all.

Having seen the guys off to the bus stop, I was returning home and suddenly, on the landing between the first and second floors, I ran into a young, rather attractive woman.

“Help, please,” she asked, looking at me with a quick, piercing look.

There was a massive cardboard box at her feet, and one could only guess how she dragged it there. I grabbed t... continue reading

The story takes place one summer. Then there was a warm, if not to say, hot summer.

It was 30 degree heat. We had a dacha near Belozersk. This is an amazing place. Sandy soil, even after heavy rain it was always dry. Deep and beautiful lakes were not far from our dacha. Dad worked on weekends and my mom and I went alone to the dacha. The neighbors also came. I was 24. A daughter and her father arrived at a neighboring site. She, as she said, was about 20, although according to her figure, one could give no more than 18 years. Slender, short, dense figure with small elastic breasts and dark skin. Athletic dad, former cyclist. The day was hot, but Anya, that was the name of our neighbor, worked with her dad in the garden. Mom and I also did some housework. I went out to the terrace. The neighbors had a better-groomed yard than ours. They had already built a large bathhouse, and the site itself was larger than ours. Anya squatted and weeded strawberries. She was wearing a T-shirt and li... continue reading