And the fifth day came.

And Lucifer was asked by His Son:
How do you make the right choice? How can you tell right from wrong?

And Lucifer answered his Son:
Your heart will tell you where it is white and where it is black.

EDITOR'S NOTE.

«There flowers bloom and sweet dreams bloom!
My, your every dream is there!»
A modern pop song.

«Take heed, therefore, how you walk dangerously, not as the foolish, but as the wise...»
The Epistle to the Ephesians of St Paul the Apostle.

«Whosoever of you is without sin, cast the first stone at her.».
The Gospel of John.

1.1

Later, Oleg Viktorovich Krasin himself could not really explain why he suddenly thought of calling one of the countless adverts that had filled almost all the central newspapers recently: «Witchcraft», «Black and White Magic», «I'll remove the spoil», etc. etc. So, somehow... It all happened by chance. By chance. He had never called before, and then suddenly he took it and... It was as if a demon pushed him under his arm. He didn't even know at that moment what he was going to talk about. What was he calling for? He just dialled the number.

The conversation, however, exceeded his expectations.

- Hello!" he heard a pleasant male voice in the receiver.

- Hello! - after some hesitation, Krasin answered. - Hello, I'm here on an advert.

Yes, Oleg Viktorovich! I'm listening to you.

Krasin almost dropped the receiver out of surprise. For a moment it seemed to him that he had got the wrong number and called some acquaintance by mistake. Although, what «acquaintance»!? The voice in the receiver clearly did not belong to anyone he knew.

- Erm... sorry... I must have got the wrong number, dialled the wrong number... Who am I talking to....?.

No, Oleg Viktorovich, there's no mistake. And you dialled that number and got there. You're calling from an advert in the newspaper, aren't you? «Clairvoyance and Witchcraft»?

- Y-yes.

Well, there you go. That's exactly what the ad says.

But then how do you know me? The confused Krassin muttered.

- Well, how? You're calling from an ad for «Psychic and Witchcraft». Clear-o-vision-i-n-e! So what do you want? The person on the other end of the line was clearly amused.

- Yes..." Krasin mumbled even more confusedly again.

He was completely lost and had no idea what to do in this situation and how to behave further. Everything that was happening in general began to seem unreal to him. Some kind of a dream. It can't be! Now the alarm clock would ring, and he would wake up. The alarm clock, however, was in no hurry. The dream continued.

- You know, Oleg Viktorovich, I'm right next to you. Literally two steps away. In the neighbouring house. (Krasin automatically looked at the number. Yes, indeed... How come he didn't pay attention at once?..). Well, where the bakery. 1st entrance, 5th floor, flat 20. The entryway code is 382. 3-8-2! Do you remember? - Krasin mechanically repeated the code numbers aloud. - That's right. Anyway, come in right now. I'm waiting. Come in, come in! You won't regret it! The man added energetically and hung up the phone.

Krasin stared at her for a while in bewilderment, then shrugged his shoulders and put the receiver down. Frankly speaking, the impression from the conversation was strong. Just like that, at once: «Hello, Oleg Viktorovich! This is for your acquaintance, so to speak, a visual example of my clairvoyance». Yes!... Impressive. Very impressive. Yes! What can I say? So much for Jury's Day, grandma! So much for witchcraft and clairvoyance. And I thought it was all just a scam. Yes!.

There was nothing in his head but that stupid «Yes!...». Krasin, to tell the truth, was still at a complete loss. The session of sorcery and clairvoyance had taken him completely by surprise.

Just like Bulgakov! - flashed through his mind. - The Master and Margarita. The infamous scene in the variety theatre. A session of black magic with its subsequent exposure. Who is waiting for me in the bad flat No. 20? Woland and company? Though I'm not Stepa Likhodeev or that... What's his name?... Well, that acoustic director. Who sat in the box with his wife and mistress and demanded disclosure? Apollo of some sort.

«And may I ask, Apollon Grigorievich, where were you last night?» M-yes--«Apollon Grigorievitch was at a meeting of the acoustic committee last night, but I don't see what that has to do with black magic?» - «Vuy, madam! Naturally you don't understand. You are quite mistaken about the meeting of the acoustical committee. Letting the chauffeur go, Apollon Grigorievich got into the bus and went to visit the artist Milica Pokobatko, where he stayed for about four hours.

Oleg Viktorovich was a very well-read man and was very proud of it in his heart. He could quote whole chunks of the classics and had a bad habit of doing it in and out of place and on any occasion. The fact that now the patronymic and surname of this unfortunate Apollo had fallen out of his memory was unpleasant.

What was his last name, anyway? Sempleyarov? Shit! What am I thinking? - He suddenly came to his senses. - Bulgakov is great, of course, but what should I do? To go or not to go? Why not go? I wonder! What else is he going to tell me? That black magician. Or what is he? A psychic sorcerer. All the more so because I have nothing to fear. I don't have a secret mistress, alas and thank God! - I have no mistress. I don't take buses to the militia. Well... I'll go. Of course I'll go! You bet I will! Well, look at that! A clairvoyant indeed. «Hello, Oleg Viktorovich!» Holy shit! No, really! It's crazy!

Krasin muttered the last words indistinctly under his breath as he hurriedly dressed. He was gradually getting that feverish excitement that always grips a man when he encounters something marvellous and supernatural. Something inexplicable. The thought that he would now be communicating with a real sorcerer stirred his imagination.

«Across the fields, across the seas, the sorcerer carries the bogatyr!», ─ he murmured aloud, slamming the door. - Or «through the forests»...? Well, forests, forests!... «There are wonders there, there is a lion wandering there!...»

The anticipation of a close encounter with some mystery became almost unbearable. Krasin almost ran to the lift.

1.2

The door to flat 20 was opened immediately. A young man of about 35 stood on the threshold and smiled politely.

- Please, come in, Oleg Viktorovich! ─ he stepped aside.

Krasin walked on in silence, deciding not to be surprised by anything yet. Let's see what happens next. What's he going to offer me? He invited himself.

Actually, to be honest, Oleg Viktorovich tried his best to be skeptical and independent, but in fact he felt like a child in a puppet theatre. Holyly believing that the fairy will wave her magic wand and... But why show it before the time?

- Here, ─ the man pointed to the door to the room. - Sit down, please.

Krasin leisurely and with dignity sat down in the massive leather chair offered to him and waited for the continuation.

«И...»? «And flick, and--»? Well, tell me, now that you've started. Don't drag this out. What are you going to offer me? «Come in, you won't regret it!» Well, here I am. I'm here. What's next?

- Next, Oleg Viktorovich, here's what. (Krasin jumped up from surprise in his chair. «Did I say that last phrase out loud?» ─ with perplexity he asked himself. The feeling of the proximity of a miracle became even more intense). I have been studying your astral map while I was waiting for you.....

(Oleg Viktorovich involuntarily wrinkled his nose in annoyance. «Astral map!...» Numerous appearances of various kinds of charlatans in the media, especially on television, had developed in him a persistent idiosyncrasy to this kind of terminology.

Although, on the other hand, the results were obvious. «Hello, Oleg Viktorovich!» Well, what difference does it make in the end? A map is a map. Maybe it's really necessary? Memory readily drew him a suitable picture from «Faust». Where a witch brews the elixir of youth and also casts some half-crazy spells. «Why, tell me, what is the use of these representations?» ─ ─ «Odd man, it's only for laughs! Enough, wise Sibylla.» Shit! I think I've mixed two translations together. Pasternak's and Cholodkovsky's.)

- Do you want to get younger? He heard the question again, as if in answer to his thoughts.

This time, Krasin was truly dumbfounded. Blown away. He stared at the man sitting opposite him in a kind of superstitious horror. A second coincidence in a row! If the first one could be written off as a coincidence, then the second one... He's really a clairvoyant, damn him! But there's no such thing as clairvoyants!

Oleg Viktorovich felt the most real fear.

There's no such thing! After all, he's an educated man, well-read. Not an expert, of course, but he watches TV and reads newspapers. There's no such thing! To read his mind like that, as if from a sheet of paper. What the hell is this?! What kind of black magic is going on in the house where the bakery is? Maybe now Azazello and Behemoth will appear in the mirror and I'll smell grey?

- Excuse me? - He froze suddenly, realising at last the meaning of what he had just heard. All right, to hell with his clairvoyance, but what is he suggesting?! What is he talking about? What do you mean, «get younger»? Is that really possible? Is that really possible? The mad hope that swept over him supplanted even his fear. ─ What do you mean «get younger»? Really? Is it really possible?

(His brain was working feverishly. Thoughts were darting about. Could it really be true? No, it couldn't be! It would make everyone so young. A quackery of some kind for sure. A hocus-pocus. A scam. He's going to offer some witchcraft potion at unthinkable prices. Or some kind of cream.

As Margarita was given by Azazello, ─ again the memory favourably suggested. - With a marshy odour. Put it on and you're good to go! «From the mirror she looked at a young woman of twenty, naturally curly. I'm naturally curly too, by the way. I used to be.

Krasin stroked his long-bald as a billiard ball head with his hand).

- Well, how can I tell you? - the man grinned uncertainly. (Oleg Viktorovich's heart dropped. I knew it! Some kind of rubbish. As usual. And I, a fool, really almost believed it!) - No, no! Don't get upset, Oleg Viktorovich, before the time. Unfortunately, it is impossible to become younger, but to fly back in time for a couple of hours is quite possible.

What do you mean, flying back in time for a couple of hours? - Krasin didn't understand. - I don't... - he wanted to say «I don't understand», but for some reason he hesitated to use this half-jargon word. The interlocutor involuntarily inspired him with some incomprehensible respect, - ... I don't get it. (Ah, damn!... Even better! Soap for soap. Fucking literate. Bibliophile. A connoisseur of Russian elegance, ─ Krasin was finally embarrassed).

─ Well, you choose any day of your life, and I'll send you there. For two hours, ─ as if not noticing his involuntary reservation and his embarrassment, the man explained in the same calm and refined politeness. (His cold, unperturbed, social tone made Krasin even more embarrassed. He felt like some sort of chattrap. A plebeian talking to an aristocrat, to a patrician. «I don't get it!», «I don't get it!». What's that? Vocabulary like a kid at a discotheque. What a pathetic vocabulary of Ellochka the Ogre!... Shit!)

I'm sorry, I'm sorry! ─ Krasin finally overcame his embarrassment and tried to get to the heart of the matter. - Could you explain it to me in more detail, if you please, ─ ─ calling to the aid of all his erudition, carefully choosing words and carefully watching the correct construction of phrases, from which they immediately began to turn out some clumsy and heavy, he said carefully. - I guess I don't quite understand what you mean.

- Willingly, willingly, Oleg Viktorovich!" the man smiled broadly and looked kindly at Krasin.

(He didn't introduce himself! It suddenly flashed through his mind. - We're talking strangely. Well, it doesn't matter, after all. It's his business. Maybe that's the way they do it, the sorcerers. «What's in my name?» Or «your name»? Oh, I don't remember. «My». «yours». ─ What's the difference! We should stop with these endless quotations on every occasion. With this fucking quoting. With intellectualism. It's impossible to concentrate on anything. I'm always «thinking on my feet.» Or «thoughts»? What am I «drifting» with?

Oh, shit! It's stuck on me. A phrase by Rollan Bykov, by the way. From the film «Two Comrades Served». starring Vysotsky. Well, almost the main role... Ugh!!! No, it's impossible to think about anything positively! What a devil! What rubbish is in my head! Not my head, but...)

─ You know, don't get distracted and listen to me carefully now! ─ In a slightly harder, more commanding tone, his surprising interlocutor suddenly said, or rather, in fact, ordered Krasin.

(Like Joshua to Pontius Pilate," Krasin thought, after which all quotations and other verbal rubbish were instantly expunged from his mind. His thoughts became unusually clear and precise, as after a large cup of strong coffee; and he, still somewhat surprised at this extraordinary fact in the fringes of his consciousness, immediately prepared to listen obediently.)

─ So... - the man paused, looked a little more closely at Krasin, made sure, to all appearances, that he was listening attentively, and then calmly continued, -You choose a day in the past. Preferably emotionally intense and therefore well remembered to you. And I send you there. That is, your present consciousness will be in that young body of yours.

You can do whatever you want there. It will have no effect on you now, today, and it will not affect you in any way. You know, all these paradoxes of time that fiction writers like to write about... They say that you will change your future and return to another world. Well, nothing like that will happen to you. Do whatever you want. Even if you die there ─ it's nothing! You'll just wake up here, that's all. Oh, by the way. Here's how it's going to work. What time do you usually go to bed? Eleven o'clock, I think? ─ Krasin nodded. ─ Well, that's fine! Tomorrow you'll fall asleep as usual and go back in time. Try not to be disturbed during your sleep. At least for the first half of the night. Until about three o'clock. Well, switch off the telephone in the bedroom just in case... Otherwise your time travel may be interrupted. If you don't get woken up, you'll spend two or three hours in the past. Maybe a little more. Whatever works for you. Depending on the circumstances. It's not so bad, really. Especially if you use that time wisely. А? ─ The man paused for a moment and grinned.

You'll have some unusual opportunities there, but you'll figure it out on the spot. It's not difficult. You'll just feel them in you, that's all. So you don't have to explain anything beforehand. Just be careful with them. Don't get carried away. Don't abuse them, ─ ─ he paused.

Now the main thing. Where to go? What day? ─ The man paused again and looked at Krasin attentively. He listened with bated breath.

You see, Oleg Viktorovich, the best time for such journeys is in those days when a person has made some mistake, suffered some failure and then remembers it for many years, if not all his life, and passionately wishes to correct it. Negative emotions, you know, are generally better remembered than positive ones. That's just the way people are. (The word «people» sounded strange to him. It was as if he was not talking about himself, but about something extraneous, which did not concern him personally. A Martian, for example, could speak of people in this way.)

Well, since, as I've told you, the events there If the events here are not reflected in any way, then it is absolutely useless to try to go there, to the past, in order to change something in one's present life. For example, to invest money successfully or, on the contrary, to save it. How good it would be for me to live then!... It won't work out. Therefore, it is pointless to do something serious there, in the past.

But something frivolous...! The man stopped and suddenly winked at Krasin quite frankly.

He was so surprised that he didn't even have time to smile back. He just sat there, staring stupidly at his interlocutor and flapping his eyes.

─ Well, let's say that things didn't work out with your favourite girl, that she rejected you ─ well, it happens! ─ But now you can try to make things right. Re-play! Make up for lost time! You will come back here later with a lot of pleasant impressions and unforgettable memories! It's all quite possible.

You have had such situations in your life! ─ Again he winked conspiratorially at the bewildered Krasin. ─ Like any of us? Well, remember, at the institute...? Iroka Belyaeva...?.

(Krasin remembered. He remembered perfectly well the scene outside the institute, when he had finally plucked up courage, caught up with a girl hurrying home after class, and proposed to her, stammering, pale and blushing, «to meet somewhere today. And her scornfully indifferent reply that »she's busy today.« And how the next day her beau, a big fellow, a whole head taller than Krasin and probably twenty kilograms heavier, took him aside and, smirking impudently, told him that »he and Ira had laughed so much yesterday!«.

However, Krasin, the absolute champion of the institute in sambo, had somehow evaded Krasin's offer to «talk about it in detail», and somehow he had faded away immediately and instantly disappeared somewhere. Krasin also remembered this now with a gloat.

He remembered a lot of things at once. How long had it been, he had been married a long time, he had children, almost grandchildren! Irochka had been married for a hundred years ─ to the same guy, by the way, I think! ─ and he still hasn't forgotten anything. What's «turns out»? Didn't he remember that scene and replayed it in his mind? A hundred times, no less! How many times? A thousand, if not more.

That clairvoyant sorcerer had said it right: negative emotions are not forgotten! Well, maybe not exactly what he said, but it doesn't matter. That's the point. That's the point. They really don't forget. They seem to be written in fiery letters on the tablets of the heart. Burned to the fucking core. For the rest of your life. Fucking devil!)

─ Now, ─ the man continued, smiling ingratiatingly, ─ You can fix this now! With your current experience! What's more! ─ he paused for another spectacular pause. ─ You can go there together with her!

What do you mean, together with her? ─ Like an echo, the astonished Krasin repeated after him. He understood nothing.

─ Well, how-how-how! ─ The interlocutor had already completely abandoned his aristocratic trappings and switched to a very familiar, trusting, and even a little pandemonious tone. ─ You will meet her tomorrow and propose to herоI'm sure she remembers it very well too. I'm sure she remembers it well too. Women never forget such things. Well, of course, you'll have to negotiate the terms with her," he grinned cynically. Krasin still flapped his eyes dazedly. Why are you looking at me like that? What's so incomprehensible? An aging woman, elderly, you might say, and here's such an offer! To be 20 years old again! Naturally, anyone would agree! And you can set the conditions for her yourself. Whatever you want! ─ He winked playfully at the foolishly smiling Krasin again. ─ Well, think fast! How many times can you sulk and mumble!

─ Yes!.. Krasin stretched out in shock. It slowly dawned on him what exactly he was being offered. ─ Yes!... That, of course... But how will I find her? ─ ─ He suddenly realised. ─ Especially in one day. I have no connection with her.

The man silently held out some kind of sheet to him.

- What is it? Krasin asked in surprise.

Irina Nikolaevna Davydova's home phone number. That's her current surname. (Aha! ─ realised Krasin. ─ So that's right, that's how she married him then!) Tomorrow is Sunday, she'll be home all day. Call in the morning and make arrangements. And you still have time today. Anyway, you'll get your bearings!

Listen! ─ Krasin finally made up his mind. ─ How do you know all this? And your telephone was prepared in advance... How can it be?

─ Maybe-maybe!...! ─ The man answered him absent-mindedly. He was looking for something. ─ It's not a problem to find someone's phone nowadays, ─ he finally looked up at Krasin. ─ If you wanted to. If you wanted to ─ you could have found it yourself a long time ago! Nowadays all these databases are sold on every corner.

Yes, but how did you even know about her!?

So, Oleg Viktorovich! ─ The man's tone became a little tougher again. ─ Call her, meet her, and agree on everything. So that tomorrow at 11 o'clock she would be in bed too. That's very desirable. Otherwise your whole journey could be a disaster. It'll be a disaster. And don't ask stupid questions! Who did you call? A psychic? So why are you surprised now? (Yes... ─ Krasin mentally turned his head. ─ That's right...) Now here's what, ─ the man's tone changed subtly again and became more businesslike. ─ Don't worry about the money. It won't cost you anything at all. It's just that your astral chart is very curious. I'm curious myself. Consider yourself lucky.

(N-n-da-a!... ─ thought Krasin with even more doubt. ─ N-n-n-da-a!... Free of charge, then, that is, for nothing? You see, I have a curious map...? Well, well! Free cheese, in fact, as I was taught, comes only in a mousetrap).

The man glanced at Krasin and smiled slightly:

- All right, all right, don't worry about it! You'll be alive, I promise. You'll come back in the best shape and full of impressions, too. Unforgettable! ─ After a subtle pause, he added with some strange intonation. ─ Yes! And there's something else! (Krasin was involuntarily wary.) About your future possibilities... ─ The man thought for a moment. ─ And anyway, it doesn't matter... It doesn't matter! ─ He finished confidently. ─ So, do you agree?

At what? Krasin asked dully.

The man, answering nothing, still stared at him in the same silent way.

- Oh, yes! Of course, ─ Krassin came to his senses. ─ Of course, I agree! Of course! ─ He hurried off.

Fine. Good luck then! Have a good time, ─ The man stood up, signalling that the conversation was over. ─ Goodbye.

─ Goodbye, ─ Krasin got up too. His head was spinning. He had a lot to think about.

1.3

When he got home, Krasin walked pensively into the kitchen and started making coffee. He did not recognise instant coffee, so the process of preparation usually took him quite a long time and had long ago become a kind of sacred action, a kind of ritual.

Grinding, boiling water... then you have to be very careful not to let the coffee run away... All in all, it's a lot of work.

The more he thought about it, the clearer he realised the meaning of the proposal, and all the truly fabulous prospects that lay ahead of him. And the more he thought about it, the more clearly he realised the meaning of the proposal made to him, and all the truly fabulous prospects opening up before him in this connection. At once he had not grasped them as a whole, and only now it began to dawn on him. Of course, many things were still not quite clear and were still somehow vaguely imagined ─ how did the magician say? «You'll figure it out on the spot»? Ah... «get your bearings»! ─ But even what he had learnt for himself quite clearly...

Yeah. I'll tell you what! Yeah! Go back in time! How old was he then? 19? 20?.. No, I think he was 21. Third year... Or no, 20! Well, it doesn't matter ─ 20,... 21, 21, whatever. I wonder if I'll feel like a 20-year-old there? You know, potency and all that? It'll be like «A Tale of Lost Time». Old kids. I can, I can, but I don't want anything for a long time... No, no! I want too. I do! I wouldn't refuse Irochka even now. Well, the twenty-year-old one, of course... Maybe, of course, I'll be disappointed when I see her, as it always happens when you wait too long for something and want it too much, but still... I've been dreaming for so long!

Yeah, it's about Irochka. I should give her a call. Set up a meeting. What's the holdup? I'll have a coffee and call her.

To his surprise, Krasin found that he was worried. Well, how about that! It's been so many years. My God! Yes! Indeed, first love never grows old. It doesn't rust!

Well, let's just say it's not the first. Well, not exactly the first. Or even more accurately, not even the first... But the most memorable, so to speak. That's for sure! The most. The rest of them were mostly just some lame-asses. Nameless, faceless. Passable. All those Manechka-Valechka, Mashka-valyashka, Natalka-davalka. And suckers. And so on. They are legion. Well, maybe not legion. That's just for good measure... Listen, why am I doing all this verbiage with myself?! I'm masturbating, I'm fighting. Am I afraid to call?

Krasin took out a sheet of paper with a phone number from his pocket. Ta-ak... What neighbourhood is that...? I don't know. I don't know. Well, it doesn't matter. That's not what I'm thinking about right now. So, um.о are we gonna talk? А?

«Hello, Irinochka! It's me... Well, me, me..... Yes, yes. Did you recognise me? I have a proposition for you. Would you like to go back in time with me for a couple of hours to fuck? In your 20s? You know, when you blew me off like that? Ha-ha-ha-ha! Yeah, yeah, yeah. That was the day. But only now, no cheating! When we get there, we'll go straight away. We'll roll into some empty auditorium and... So, to theак? Are you ready? A sex tour? I'll see you tomorrow then! Learn the positions.».

All right, enough with the jokes. Okay, here's the deal. I'll call her now, make an appointment, meet her, and then I'll explain everything to her on the spot. What to do, how to do it. And where to. Just like that.

Krasin only now noticed that he, in all this endless and fruitless reasoning, thinking and mental monologues (onanlogues, for fuck's sake! rubbing!... pouring from... empty to empty), had somehow unnoticeably drunk all his coffee. He looked at the empty ladle in some confusion (when did I have time?), sat down at the table and, still slightly worried, picked up the phone.

Well, what's the use of fidgeting now? He reassured himself ─ Romeo was here! We'll just make an appointment for now. That's all. ─ I'll just hang up, ─ he decided at the last moment. ─ I'd better call back later.

- Hello! ─ a slightly low, familiar female voice sounded in the receiver. Krasin's heart pounded once more. He was instantly sweating. She! He recognised the voice. There was no doubt. She!

- Can I see Irina Nikolayevna?

Yes, just a moment...

- Mum, you! ─ he heard a second later. So that's the daughter?! No way! She's all grown up. It's the same voice. What's so surprising, though?

Yes!

Hello, Ir! ─ Krasin said hoarsely and coughed. (How many years!) ─ Listen, don't be surprised. It's Oleg Krasin calling you. Remember, we studied together at the institute? I tried to court you in the third year, even wanted to meet you. (What if he doesn't remember?? ─ a panicky thought flashed in my head.)

─ Yes, hello ...

Irochka's tone was, of course, somewhat surprised, but there was no doubt that she remembered him immediately. She didn't say his name out loud, but that was understandable. Her husband must be wandering around somewhere.

«Women never forget such things,» Krasin immediately remembered the absolutely unquestionable statement of this mysterious psychic sorcerer (whose competence in these matters, too, Krasin did not somehow doubt at all), and he immediately felt much more confident.

The unpredictability is gone. The incomprehensibility. The aura had dissipated... An ordinary woman. A vain and curious daughter of Eva, like all of them. He suddenly knew how to behave and what to say to her. And that everything would work out. At least he'd be able to arrange a meeting. And then we'll see.

- Ir, I need to meet you urgently! ─ he said confidently. ─ Preferably today. Preferably right now. It's extremely important for you. I accidentally learnt something that concerns you directly. Very important! Extremely important! Well, not a phone call. I'll tell you all about it when I see you. Tell me where to come and I'll come right over. I have a car, ─ Krasin paused. ─ Yes! You just don't tell anyone about my call and our meeting! Not to my husband, not to my children, ─ ─ he said.

(Or she'll bring her husband with her. He's smart enough! He'll think it's a purely business date, concerning the whole family).

I'm already taking a big risk calling you. Well, I'll tell you when ─ you'll see for yourself!»

(Shit! Am I overdoing it with my scary secrets here? She's an old woman. Not 20 years old. She'll be scared now. She's gonna get sick. With a heart. Shit! It's like «12 Chairs». Ilf and Petrov. Picture from the exhibition. «The Union of the Sword and the Sword.» Hungry Ostap, already smelling money, inspiringly instructs the conspirators. «Complete confidentiality! Everything must be secret! It's in your own interest. Brace yourselves! Ugh! You're quoting again? I've made up my mind...)

- Well, I don't know... ─ he heard Ira's uncertain voice. ─ Well, all right... come on... What's the matter?

Ir, it's not a telephone conversation, by God! ─ Krasin was already feeling like a complete master of the situation. We'll meet and you'll understand everything. Don't worry, there's nothing wrong, ─ He relented. ─ On the contrary! It's just very important information for you. For you personally. A surprise in a way.

─ All right, ─ Ira must have made a final decision for himself. Can you come to the Sviblovo metro station in an hour?

(Ah!... So that's where she lives! In Sviblovo.)

Yes, of course. Is there only one way out?

─ No, I think it's two...

(Ira started to explain confusingly where she would stand, but Krasin almost didn't listen. What difference does it make? I'll find it. What's there, a million exits? Not one, so the other.)

All right, Ir, you better stand right by the exit, anyone, and I'll find you myself. Okay?

─ Well, all right, ─ ─ the woman conceded easily at once.

(Onslaught!!! Quickness and onslaught! The key to success! An ancient and fail-safe recipe for taking women and fortresses. Assault! Damn! Why did I bother with her back in 3rd year? I'd have picked her up like that and... Eh-heh-heh... Eh, youth, youth! Well, it's nothing! God willing, we'll make up for it. We still have everything ahead of us. We'll make up for it.)

- In an hour, then! ─ Krasin continued with the same assertiveness, developing and consolidating his success. ─ How long will it be?...? It's twenty minutes past four. So, let's make it exactly at half past five. Agreed? At exactly half past five, at the exit.

Okay. I'll be dressed...

Irish! ─ Krasin gallantly interrupted the lady. ─ I recognise you anyway. No matter what you're wearing.

Well, all right! ─ The clearly flattered woman finally melted. ─ We'll see! Bye.

Krasin waited until Ira hung up and only then hung up the phone himself. He felt an unusual mental uplift. Everything had gone surprisingly easily and smoothly!

Oh, I'm just a catcher! ─ He thought jokingly proud. ─ I got a woman in no time. I got her to meet me. I got her on the ear. Damn! Why did I clap my ears before?

He would have called her like this twenty years ago, told her the truth, lured her to a meeting, and then... It's a matter of technique.

It's so simple, it turns out! You're a sucker, you sucker! Lopushina. Burdock. What a waste of time! On the other hand, maybe it's for the best. Maybe it's not for nothing... What God doesn't do...!.

All right! We'll see! I still have to shave. There's no time to argue, sit around, fight again. It is what it is.

«Lay off the talking! Onwards and upwards! And there!» And then we'll see. Whatever God gives us! Let's go!!!

1.4

Irochka Krasin recognised her at once. She was old, faded, fat, but she was undoubtedly her.

Yes!... ─ He thought with a kind of hopeless sadness. ─ I probably look the same way from the outside...

He was afraid to go near her. However, he immediately remembered what he was going to offer her and cheered up. She'll bite! Of course she would! Of course she would. And that means that tomorrow night I'll fuck her... «Yesterday, with God's help, I fucked Kern at last.» A famous obscene line from Pushkin's scandalous letter suddenly came to his mind.

Hmmm... Here I am, hopefully... tomorrow... God willing... At last. Yeah. Well, we'll see. With God's help, of course... You can fuck anyone. Yeah... Well, do I fit in? With God! «Stop talking!»

Krasin got out of the car and walked resolutely towards the lonely Irochka. She paid no attention to him until he came very close to her, almost right up to her. She obviously didn't recognise him.

- Hi, Irish! Don't you recognise me? But you haven't changed at all, ─ ─ he greeted exaggeratedly and boyishly his failed once-passion, now already worn out, worn out by life and faded.

The heavyset young woman to whom these sacramental words were addressed stared at him for some time, until at last she said uncertainly:

- Oleg?.

- Yes, he is! Has he changed so much? Krassin grinned wryly.

(N-yes... The fact that she so obviously didn't recognise him was unpleasant... Very unpleasant... Quite unpleasant! What can I say. Hmm... Do I really look the same from the outside as she does? If not even worse, I guess I recognised her straight away. How the hell am I supposed to talk to her about sex? It's embarrassing... I can't even talk to her. I bet she'd get all googly-eyed. When I talk to her about this nonsense. She'll get offended. She's probably forgotten how to do it. And why. And what it's all about. It's probably overgrown. Moss. Cobwebs. All right, let's have a look now.)

- All right, Ir, let's go and talk in the car, ─ without waiting for an answer, he threw his hand in the direction of his car and walked a little ahead, taking the woman with him. The woman obediently followed him.

Getting into the car, Krasin paused for a while, looking in front of him and gathering his thoughts, chewed his lips, and only then turned finally to the woman sitting next to him.

- Well, first of all, Ir, I must apologise to you, ─ he began calmly. ─ I didn't find out anything super important or super secret about you. It was just a slight slip of the tongue. Just a little. Just a little. I made it up on purpose to lure you to this meeting, ─ the woman moved, and he hurriedly continued. ─ But nevertheless, I do have something to do with you! And a very serious one. Listen to me carefully, and you will understand everything.

(He realised that he had not started the conversation quite successfully ─ confusingly, verbosely ─ and felt the growing anxiety of the woman sitting next to him. Irina Nikolaevna seemed to be beginning to repent for getting into his car. «Specially invented!..., lured away!..» What does all this mean? What does he want from her? What's he doing here? Isn't he some kind of maniac? Who knows what he's been doing here all these years! And now he's just dropped out of the blue on her head!

Anyway, everything was going wrong. Something had to be done. Something to change. Krasin decided not to drag it out any longer, but to take the bull by the horns, as they say. To force events and get to the heart of the matter).

- Listen, Ir, do you believe in witchcraft?

The woman froze and looked at him even more apprehensively. Now she looked at him as if he were clearly insane. Who the hell had asked her to get in the car.

Listen, don't be afraid! ─ Krasin said in a more persuasive and reasonable tone. ─ I'm neither crazy nor insane. I'm a normal person. I'm just asking: well, do you believe in witchcraft, in omens, in magic...? Well, everybody believes a little bit. It's an ordinary question. Nothing special. Why are you so tense? It's justеDo you?

─ Well, I don't know... ─ Ira was still wary. ─ Well, I believe, I guess... I believe in omens. Why do you ask?

─ You see, Ira, ─ Krasin said in a calmer voice, ─ I called yesterday on the ad in the newspaper. (Why did I lie to her? Didn't I call today? Well, never mind.) «Witchcraft and clairvoyance».

So? Ira asked with involuntary interest.

He called me by my first name and patronymic, that sorcerer! Although I didn't introduce myself. I just dialled the number on the ad, and he immediately said to me: «Hello, Oleg Viktorovich!»! Can you imagine such a thing?

─ Really? ─ With even more interest and eyes alight, Ira asked again.

She seemed to have almost completely calmed down and was now clearly interested in what was happening.

Eve's true daughter. Light-hearted and curious. «At any age,» thought Krasin, looking at her, with involuntary irony.

- I was almost stunned myself! ─ He tried to play up to her even more. ─ If anyone had told me ─ I wouldn't have believed it! Anyway, we met him, he's right next door to me, can you imagine? And he proposed to me! It was amazing. A trip back in time!

How is it: travelling back in time? Ira asked in fascination.

In front of Krasin sat a little girl listening with her mouth open to a magic fairy tale about a good wizard.

Tuck! A trip back in time. But only for a few hours. I pick any day in the past, and it takes me there. I mean, I find myself in that day and in my young body. And he assured me that everything that happens there will not come back here. That is, as if in some parallel world it will happen. So even if you die there ─ you will just wake up here, and that's all!

(Krasin felt that he was still speaking confusedly and ramblingly, and he had brought «perish» here for nothing, but he decided that it didn't matter now. It's not a big deal. It's fine. The main thing is that she listens. And she's not afraid anymore. She'll ask again if she needs anything. And how can you talk about it consistently? The subject is so complicated, it's a real pain in the arse! To be honest, he didn't fully believe in all this and didn't understand everything.)

- Here... ─ Krasin tried to collect the thoughts that were scattering in different directions. ─ Yes, that's it! I chose the day when I tried to make a date with you, ─ Ira looked at him in amazement. ─ Well, yes. Why are you surprised? I've never been turned down like that before in my life! ─ He chuckled unhappily. ─ It's memorable. Well, in short, I chose, and I chose! What's there to say, why and why not! ─ He tried to smooth out the awkwardness by joking. Ira was silent.

─ I couldn't forget you! All these years, ─ Suddenly, suddenly, he said quietly to himself and lowered his eyes. ─ Yes... I remembered all the time. All my life. Yes... Well, so, ─ he gathered his thoughts again. ─ This sorcerer tells me. If you want to go this day, you must first meet that girl, ─ well, you! ─ and agree with her beforehand. Ask her to go there too, together with you. That's why I called you. To organise everything in advance. And to make sure you'd come, I had to make up all these terrible secrets. of the Madrid court. Well, what could I do? We had to meet urgently ─ and what if you refused? We had to be sure. Anyway, it doesn't matter. Why are we talking about nonsense? Let's talk about the main thing, ─ ─ he forced himself to look up. .

Ira still stared at him blankly and remained silent.

(All right, stop fooling around! ─ Krasin suddenly became angry. ─ All these love comedies. Shepherd pastorals. «Ah-oh!...» Daphnis and Chloe. Boy-girl.

Why am I flirting with her like a snotty little boy? I'm begging her. She's the one who should be begging me, for that matter! Such an offer. And here I am, I'm just squirming, I'm embarrassed. Breaking like a fucking minty gingerbread. Like I'm the one who wants something from her. Oh, for God's sake! Yes, yes, no, no!)

- So, by.аto you, don't you agree? ─ He finished firmly, also looking at Ira point-blank and not taking his eyes off her. If she doesn't want to ─ don't! After all, we can try to make an agreement with that twenty-year-old. There, on the spot. So to speak, without leaving the cash register. «With God's help!» As Alexander Sergeyevich advised.

Ira blinked. It seemed that she had listened to Krasin's entire previous story simply as some kind of beautiful romantic love story. Her former suitor's passionate and unrequited love for her, carried by him through the years. The story, though beautiful and wonderful, had nothing to do with her present real life.

And now this simple, clear and completely specific question of his caught her completely off guard.

Krasin perfectly sensed and understood this hiccup of hers, and at once began to persuade her fervently.

- Listen! You'll be 20 years old again for a few hours! Can you imagine that? Well, just imagine it for a second. Young! I mean, here you are, the you of today, moving into your young, 20-year-old body! While you sleep. You'll fall asleep tomorrow night, as usual, and you'll enter that other world. And whatever happens to you there, it won't affect you here! In any case, you will wake up in the morning as usual, in your flat, in your bed, next to your husband.

(As Irina Nikolaevna did not react to his remark, Krasin realised that it was so, she was really still sleeping with her husband. With this... what's his name?...? She loves him! Well, well, well! Let's hope... «God willing»...)

- Well, in short, time travelling! ─ He finished energetically. ─ Like in the cinema. Free of charge and risking nothing. There are a lot of advantages ─ ─ such sensations! ─ and no disadvantages at all! Well?... Don't you agree?.

Krasin realised from the glistening and wide-open eyes of the old woman that she had finally begun to realise what she was talking about.

I don't know what to say," she said slowly and incredulously. ─ Are you serious? Do you believe all this?

Look, Ir, what's the difference? Believe it, don't believe it... Does it matter? They don't ask anything from you in return, do they? Well, if it doesn't work out, you'll fall asleep and wake up as usual. That's all. All I want from you is that you go to bed no later than eleven o'clock tomorrow and that you don't get woken up during the night. Better yet, switch off the phone altogether. Provide these conditions, that's all! And the rest is none of your business. Nothing more is required of you.

─ Well, all right, all right!... ─ laughed Ira. ─ Okay, it's a deal. If you insist so much.

As her last joking remark was spoken in a tone clearly more playful and familial than all the previous ones, Krasin finally made up his mind.

- Well, of course I insist! ─ With the same playful familiarity he picked up and even winked slightly with a smile at Ira, who was looking at him. ─ It's not for nothing. I have my own reasons!

Yes? ─ Ira asked her the same way, even a little more playfully. ─ And what are they?

- Well, I hope you won't blow me off like that again, at least! Why am I going there so you can send me back? I'm not a masochist!

And why are you going there? Irochka looked at him coquettishly. Her tone became even more confidant-familial.

(Aha! Things seem to be getting better! ─ thought Krasin with joy. ─ «Lad», by the way, is «dal» in reverse. It's almost «dal.» Without one letter. Exactly! Almost dal! Almost a direct question. She understands everything already! ─ It flashed through his mind. ─ We're talking to her, in fact, almost in plain text. We've almost agreed on everything. Almost there!

Though, on the other hand, what does it mean to give the opposite? ─ he suddenly realised. - «Things are getting better.» Towards getting along. To «gave the opposite.» I mean, «gave.» «Gave in reverse.» What the hell is that? You mean she didn't give a damn thing? Or did she give, but in reverse? The fucking other way round. And if you put «on» separately, you get two sides. «Gave it the other way round.» First she gave it from one side, and then she made such a turn, turned over ─ and gave it from the other side... Ugh! What nonsense comes into my head! Linguistic heresy. It's my excitement. From--t!.. Excitement! I'm as excited as a 15-year-old boy. asking a girl to give it to him for the first time. «A fucking girl»! It's the other way round.)

- We're That's where we're going! We're! ─ he emphasised with pressure. - Well, imagine: we are both young, twenty-year-olds... And the sorcerer said that we will have feelings and desires like twenty-year-olds. We'll be fine with that, too.

Krasin made an expressive pause and looked at Irochka quite frankly. Irochka was still smiling promisingly and obviously did not object to his tone and behaviour.

(Maybe she'll give me some here, too? It suddenly struck Krasin. ─ I could ask her to come straight from here to me... ─ I've got some brandy at home... ─ He hesitated. I have some brandy at home...─ He hesitated. ─ No, it's not worth it, ─ he decided after all. ─ I'll only spoil everything. She'll get scared. He'll clench. Then it would take two hours to persuade him again.

And I don't really want to. You'll be embarrassed here... Anyway, I don't want toоand it's not a hundredит. It's clear. The logic is ironclad. StоIt's only when a hundredит.

So I'd rather have her out there in the other world. When I had a hard-on and she was worth it.

When she was young. Fresh. New! Fresh. And now what! BOO. Second hand. Recycled.)

- And no one will ever know about anything! ─ He concluded with his most important and decisive argument. ─ Well? Can you imagine?

─ Well... I don't know... ─ Capriciously, like a child, pouting her lips, Irochka stretched out, glanced at him and squinted slightly.

Her gaze was so frank and so dreamily appraising that Krasin was even hot. He suddenly felt that he had an erection and, moreover, it seemed to him that Irochka had noticed it perfectly well, and she was not unpleasant about it. On the contrary. She liked it. Flattered her feminine ego. In general, Krasin suddenly realised that he had somehow stopped noticing the age of his former failed lover. It was as if she suddenly became younger right before his eyes. Without any sorcery. In front of him again sat the same twenty-year-old girl, beautiful and desirable.

(Shit! Shouldn't we try it? ─ Lightning flashed through his head again. ─ I'd like to propose it now... ─)

- You know, Ir, ─ still looking straight into her eyes, he said slowly, ─ I look at you now and I see that twenty-year-old girl again. Just as young and beautiful. (The woman blushed. She was obviously pleased to hear that.) It was as if those years had never happened.

Maybe we can do something here, too. А? Afterwards, after our date in the other world? What do you think?

─ I don't know... ─ The woman said in a sultry, languid, enveloping way, and shrugged her shoulder slowly.

For some reason Dye seemed a little disappointed. The devil! I was a wimp, and I'm still a wimp. I should have taken her to my bed right away. I shouldn't be here arguing about it. And in the other world, of course!

- All right, we'll wait until tomorrow, ─ summed up Irochka, looking a little mockingly at her beau sitting in the next chair. (Krasin even felt ashamed under her gaze. A grown-up man! Sitting, squirming and drooling. «Well, what else is there to do! Maybe that's why he's going there, cos no one's giving it to him here.»)) And then we'll see. Come on, let me out, I'll go. (Krasin uncomplainingly lifted the door lock button.) Or they'll start worrying at home. I said I'd be back in an hour.

─ Well, then, go to bed at eleven o'clock tomorrow, ─ Krasin instructed the woman once more. ─ Or, better still, even earlier. And don't forget to switch off the telephone in your bedroom.

Okay. I got it. Well, goodbye.

Bye. Yes! Let me drive you home! ─ ─ He said.

No, don't, don't, don't! Irochka was already opening the door. ─ I'll drive myself. It's not far.

Well, look.

Okay, goodbye.

See you tomorrow. I hope so!

─ Let's see! - Irochka gave him one last flirtatious smile and got out of the car. Krasin watched her for a while as she walked away from the car,... towards the bus stop....

She's got nice legs! ─ He noted with pleasure. ─ And her arse... It's very nice. And in general... I had my eye on her for a reason. First-class merchandise. Extra. Exclusive! It's a pity, of course, that things turned out so stupidly. But what's she got to do with it? It was my fault. I acted like an arsehole. Like a pathetic person.

Suh, suh, suh, suh! What did she think of me at that time? I'll have to ask her when I see her.

«She and I used to laugh so much!» The words of her future husband came to his mind at once, and he felt a hot colour of shame flood his face.

All right, we'll fucking sort it out. We're going to meet that bastard there, too, by the way! He suddenly realised. Great! Let's have a chat. Closer. Cramped. There was something we didn't agree on the other day. Anyway, we'll see which of us will sing, which of us will cry. And who'll have the last laugh in the end.

5.

The whole of the next day Krasin spent as if in a chad. Time had stopped. It seemed as if those cursed eleven hours would never come at all.

- What's the matter with you? His wife asked him sympathetically. ─ You don't seem to be like that today.

─ I don't feel well, ─ he dismissed it as usual. ─ My blood pressure must be racing. Just in time for the weather.

─ I didn't feel well yesterday either. Some magnetic storms are still going on, they say... ─ ─ his wife started her endless charade, but Krasin hardly listened to her anymore.

Over many years of marriage, he had long ago learnt to switch off immediately in such cases and then only occasionally «mark» and remind himself with all sorts of lingeringly indefinite: «Yes!..», «I see...», «I see...», "I see...", etc. This was usually more than enough to maintain a smooth flow of conversation with my wife. I never needed more than that.

It was close to half past eleven when Krasin started to go to bed. His wife, of course, wanted to watch television today. Some rubbish, either a clown show or a quiz show. A fucking show. The life of happy imbeciles. Krasin threw a real tantrum about it. He was so excited and agitated that his wife was scared.

- What is wrong with you today!?

Well, I don't feel so good today!!! My head hurts. I want to go to bed early! Can you understand that?! Can you?! And don't wake me up tonight!!! Don't you dare! I took a pill last night. Do you understand?!

Eventually, at precisely 11 o'clock, he was already in bed. His wife was snoring quietly beside him. She seemed to have passed out as soon as her head touched the pillow.....

Strange... ─ Krasin was surprised. ─ Usually she tosses and turns for at least half an hour ─ she can't fall asleep.

He listened to her even, sleepy breathing again and hummed incredulously: «Really asleep! Wonderful, of course, but strange. What, have the miracles already started?» He asked his new acquaintance ─ the psychic sorcerer ─ ironically, and closed his eyes.

2.
«The ships are in my harbour.
If we don't take off, we'll swim.
The hands are at exactly 2 o'clock -
Get back!»
A modern pop song.

2.1

Oleg Krasin, a twenty-year-old third-year student at a prestigious Moscow university, was hurriedly catching up with a thin red-haired girl in a fluttering dress who was walking fast in front of him. It was warm outside, almost hot ─ accordingly, and Oleg was dressed in summer. A short-sleeved shirt, some thin summer trousers of a pre-fashionable style, and the same unthinkably archaic light shoes.

Well, what a look I have! Oleg Viktorovich thought, ran by inertia a few more steps and suddenly, stopping like a stumbling block, began to look and feel himself in some almost painful bewilderment. He even forgot about the girl ahead of him. However, she seemed to be going through the same thing at that moment. At least, she was behaving exactly as he was. Like some kind of mirror image. She stopped abruptly and looked at herself incredulously, even groping, in some obvious confusion.

Something unimaginable was going on in Krasin's head. Like Kisa Vorobyaninov when he saw his chairs in the window of a commission shop. There were bells ringing and fanfares playing. As if he had suddenly won a million dollars in the lottery and now lost his ability to think for a while because of joy. No, no! He remembered everything perfectly well: the sorcerer, all his explanations, ... understood everything perfectly well: where he was, why, how and why he was here; but it was one thing to understand something abstractly, purely speculatively, and quite another to feel it in reality! All these new sensations, at once, instantly, without preparation, came upon him, overwhelmed him with a headlong rush: a feeling of freedom, of strength, of youth! ─ they were so unexpected and vivid that they literally stunned him, blinded him! They knocked him off his feet!

Taken by surprise! He even seemed to be staggering around like a drunk.

At last he came to his senses and looked up at Ira Belyaeva standing a few steps away from him. She was holding a small mirror in her hands and staring intensely at herself.

- Beautiful, beautiful! Krasin half-jokingly remarked, approaching the girl. He had little doubt that this was the Irochka he had met yesterday. All the behaviour of the girl standing in front of him testified to it irrefutably. Absolutely. Clearly and unambiguously.

- How was it? Impressive?

This one?.

─ I-I-I! ─ With a full-mouth smile, Krasin confirmed. ─ Greetings from the future!

─ It's crazy! ─ The girl whispered and frankly ran her eyes over him. ─ Is it really... you?

«You», «you»! Have you forgotten how old we are? And I thought we were just on a first-name basis yesterday, right?

Yes... But it's so unbelievable that I can't get over it. So I'm readingо, I'm sleeping in the real world right now?

Yes, you are. I explained everything to you yesterday. The day before yesterday. Do you remember?

─ Yes, I remember, of course, but... I didn't really believe it until the end, to be honest....

─ To be honest, I didn't fully believe it myself, ─ confessed Krasin. ─ How can you believe such a thing? But, as you can see...

Y-yes.

(How long are we going to stand here for?! ─ Krasin thought irritably. ─ Time is running outо. Every minute, every second counts, every second is worth its weight in gold, and we're standing here talking! As if we haven't done enough talking. «Closer to the body!» ─ as Guy de Maupassant said. Time is money!)

- Listen, Ir, ─ looking directly into the girl's eyes, as he had done then in the car, he said in a measured manner. ─ We're wasting time. Precious time. And we don't have much time. Just a couple of hours. A lifetime! Never to be repeated again. Never again!

─ I don't quite understand you, ─ she blushed and moved away a little. And I don't think I promised you anything.

(Krasin was even confused for a second at her insolence. And then he felt anger slowly rising.

Holy shit! No, no way! What do you mean you didn't promise?!

Is she trying to screw me over? A second time? «I don't understand you»! Yesterday I fucking understood you, and today I don't! What the fuck is going on? What the fuck is this thing? Did I come all the way from another world for this? And I brought that bitch here. So I can get screwed over a second time here?! Just to make me happy, so to speak.

Oh, no, darling, you're not gonna do that again! I'm not 20 years old anymore, thank God. So let's do it... «God willing...»).

- Oh, you don't understand? And you didn't promise anything...? He interjected mockingly, and gave the girl an unmistakable, openly-undressing look. She blushed even more and pulled back a little more. I didn't expect it from you, honestly, I didn't expect it... We agreed on everything yesterday, didn't we? You seemed to understand everything, didn't you? So I was wrong? It's a pity, it's a pity. Oh, it's a pity. Well, I'm sorry then! ─ He finished mockingly and even shook his head mournfully. ─ It's a pity, of course, that things have turned out this way again, for the second time, but what can you do? I'm sorry.

Ira looked at him coldly as if he were nothing, turned silently and walked away down the street.

(Well, what the fuck! Krassin thought in shock. ─ Is she just going to leave like that? And this is in gratitude for everything I've done for her!? Bringing her here! No fucking way!)

- Just a moment, Irina Nikolayevna, just a moment! ─ he called out to the girl, who was rapidly moving away from him. She only quickened her steps in reply.

(Well, su-uka...! ─ Krassin was amazed again. ─ Well, he's obviously just going to run away, that's all! Just to throw me away like the last sucker. I can't believe it!)

- Don't run! ─ Again he shouted loudly at her back. ─ You can't run anywhere here! You don't know anything about this world. I didn't tell you everything yesterday. I left some things in reserve. Just in case, so to speak, in case of fire. And, as it turned out, not for nothing! So now I want to warn you about something.

The girl shuddered and stopped. Then slowly, as if by force, she turned to face Krasin and stared at him questioningly.

He approached her leisurely, smirked cheekily in her face, and said in the same insolent, mocking tone:

- Well, what's your hurry, honoured Irina Nikolayevna? I haven't finished yet.

He smirked again, now at his unwitting joke. Irochka seemed to understand it perfectly well, and her face hardened.

(And she's not going to give me anything at all! At last Krasin finally realised what was happening. He still could not believe what was happening and the truly diabolical cunning of the woman standing in front of him. «A fucking woman! A snake! No way! And he's playing the innocent with me. She's playing the innocent girl! Unfuckable. No, what's it like! That's something!)

- Well, my dear! If you don't like anything here in this world, I'll be more than happy to take you back to the future. Right now! How about that? I can do that at any time.

Irochka turned pale and recoiled. The blow hit the target. She obviously did not want to go back. For a while she looked at Krasin with all her eyes, as if trying to read on his face whether he was telling the truth, then she hissed like an angry cat: «I don't believe you! It's all in your head now. Why didn't you say anything to me yesterday?»

(Well, su-uu-uka!...! ─ Krasin was once again amazed. ─ So she thought up this whole variant yesterday? From the very beginning? To throw me under any pretext and run away. To be offended by something... And yesterday she flirted with me on purpose in the car. She was making eyes at me. To find out more and more about what's going on and how, so I wouldn't jump off before I did.

Well, women, women!.. And I, poor fool, fluffed up my feathers... Puffed up with pride like a turkey. Like an Indian rooster. «I'll do her right now!» «There she is, ready for anything!» I'll do it. Yes, she is! Wow! Irochka! What a bitch! No, well, what a bitch! Well, that's really something!)

- You check it out! ─ He grinned, still looking at her point-blank, and after a pause he added. ─ Oh! I see we're back on a first-name basis? That's encouraging. So, what's up?

Something trembled in the eyes of the girl opposite. For a second longer she hesitated, then she said decisively: «Okay, fine. So what do you want from me?»

(Aha! I see. «I'll give you one, we'll have a quickie, and that's it. We're even.» Wait! No way!

Krasin felt that the most real anger was gradually boiling up in him. It was also annoying that there was no doubt that as a sexual partner he was of absolutely no interest to Irochka Belyaeva.

All she wanted was to get rid of him somehow and get away. It was the biggest blow to his ego. All those beautiful and marvellous illusions he'd had all these years: «I behaved stupidly!...», «she was confused...», instantly shattered. There was no need to doubt anything anymore.

Why the hell did I come here in the first place?! Picked a fucking day in the past! The goddamn witch doctor told me to. Psychic.)

- You know very well what I want from you, ─ he answered rudely. (Stop fooling around! If you don't want to do it the hard way, you'll do it the hard way. Don't bother with that bitch!) ─ Only you seem to think that you can make conditions for me, don't you? Bargaining with me? Forget it! Forget it right away. Either you just do what I say, or ─ Good riddance!

So take your pick. And I only want you here for sexual favours. Like a rubber doll. Sucking and spreading your legs when I get a hard-on. That's it! Well? Okay, toак?.. And stop being such a virgin! ─ He shouted angrily, seeing how she blinked a lot, clearly intending to cry. ─ A little girl. Either suck my dick right now in the nearest entranceway, or get lost! Well?!

Ira was clearly confused. She didn't seem to be prepared for such a turn of events. But, to her credit, she did not hesitate long at all. Krasin remembered her as a girl dreamy and sentimental, but now she appeared before him in a completely different light. A moment! ─ and the decision was made.

- All right, I agree! ─ She said firmly. ─ I want to stay here.

─ That's right! ─ replied Krasin gloatingly. His irritation still lingered. ─ And another thing. Don't play Zoya Kosmodemyanskaya. Going to suffer for the sake of a great goal. With the appropriate facial expression. Whether you like me or not, pretend you do. That you're crazy about me, that you can't live without me. That you've dreamed all your life of sucking my dick in my driveway. So I'll believe you.

Otherwise, you're on your own! If you get fed up, I'll send you back. There are plenty of other women here. So try not to get bored. It's in your own interest. Is that clear?

─ Yes, my lord! ─ Irochka bowed in a joking curtsy. And smiled gently. The tears in her eyes dried instantly.

Krasin even opened his mouth in surprise. Oh, my God! Are all women like that? Holy, holy, holy! The power of the cross is with us! It's not Irochka, it's just the devil in the flesh! A devil in a skirt! Satan. Demon tempter.

Krasin understood everything perfectly well, knew that she was playing, cunning, deceitful, hypocritical, and at the same time he looked at her and felt the desire growing in him. He just couldn't resist it. It was inherently instinctual. Like a programme in a robot. The normal reaction of a male to the call of a female ready to mate. Reason, common sense, everything is powerless. It's impossible to resist. To do that, you must first stop being a male. Stop being a man. To change your essence, your nature.

He came close to the girl, devouring her body with his eyes. There was no one on the street, and Krasin felt an absolutely unbearable desire to touch her, to take her breasts, to stroke her ass,...ass...─ so seductive, alluring, firm!.., but still he did not dare to do it. If you get caught by some vigilantes, some Komsomol members, who are fucking brain-dead, for violating public morality ─ then you'll spend two hours in a jail. And they'll beat you up, too, for goodness sake! You'll be travelling back in time! Flying in dreams and in reality.

Take your time! No hurry at all! We should at least take a little look around here first. See what's what. Get used to it. And then we can have fun... Shit! But I want to! I can't! The young blood is playing. It's boiling, boiling.

He grabbed the girl by the arm and literally dragged her with him to the first entrance he could see. Ira, however, did not resist. There was no code in the entrance, thank God. As soon as the door slammed shut, Krasin immediately pounced on Irochka and began to greedily grab and grope her body. Breasts,... buttocks... Then with one hand he pulled up the hem of her dress and, trembling, thrust his other hand into the depths, under the dress, between her legs, into the abode of dreams! From touching her body, her thighs, her thighs, her thighs, her thighs, her dress, her underwear, his arousal became so intense that he felt that that was it! Just one more moment ─ and he would cum immediately! Now! Now! Right in his pants!

He let go of Irochka and started unbuttoning his fly with shaking hands. Irochka quickly squatted down in front of him, moved close to him and opened her mouth.

As soon as Krasin finally managed to do away with the buttons, she hurriedly moved even closer, grabbed his hot, excited and unnaturally hard cock sticking out of his trousers with her right hand and instantly guided it deep into her mouth. And almost at the same moment, Krasin cummed. The pleasure he experienced was so intense that for a few seconds he literally lost consciousness. Everything swam before his eyes, and when he came to his senses and lowered his eyes, he saw that Irochka was still squatting in front of him and, smiling, looking up at him from below. He rubbed her head affectionately, she smiled a little wider, then again gently, very gently, almost lovingly took his half-smothered penis with both hands, licked the head thoroughly with her tongue (the sensation was very sharp, and Krasin shuddered voluptuously again several times), and only then rose easily to his feet.

Krasin quickly cleaned himself up, and he and Irochka left the entrance. Everything that had happened took literally a couple of minutes. Krasin felt absolutely happy at that moment. In the seventh heaven! Floating in some magical clouds. Empyrean. He had just been given an absolutely fabulous blowjob by the girl he had dreamed of all his life.

2.2

- Where are we going? To the institute? - Shining all over from the happiness that overwhelmed him, interrogated Krasin questioningly looking at him Irochka. My God! How good! She smiled a little and nodded. He quickly looked around and squeezed her buttock with his palm.

The girl almost didn't object. («Well, wait, Oleg! Don't. People...») Her dress and panties were quite thin. Krasin felt that he would need very little time to regain strength for new feats.

Hooray! Long live youth! I'll definitely make it two or three times! - He thought joyfully. He wanted to sing and spin in place. Everything was marvellous! The weather, the mood, Irochka was near. It was only a hand to reach out. Life was wonderful and amazing!

«That's what! Life is beautiful, comrades! And it's short - that's the most, most important thing!» - he sang, or rather, croaked. He had never had a hearing. Nor, in fact, a voice. Irochka glanced at him, but remained silent. The last phrase he had just uttered, however, sobered him up a little.

Oh, by the way! About the «short» thing. We really don't have a lot of time. We need to hurry up. I need to look at my fellow students with new eyes. Knowing roughly what's going to happen to all of them. And about some of them even more specifically. Sashka Shabanov will crash in a year. Or Zheka from our group... Shit! Am I going to see them all again? What a mess!

He glanced at Irochka, who was walking silently beside him. She was walking, deep in thought. A vague smile wandered across her lips. Strange somehow... It was either dreamy, or... incomprehensible, in general, something. Strange.

- What are you thinking about? - He elbowed the girl playfully.

Ta slowly shifted her eyes to him:

- How to spend this time...? - she said quietly, as if thinking to herself, as if thinking aloud. - These two hours... The only ones in my life. They will never happen again. I'll never be young again. Never. Never-never.

- Yes..." Krasin said, not knowing what to say to that.

The girl's overly serious tone puzzled him a little. What was she doing? On second thought, though, really? Never! Two hours of youth! An unthinkable gift of fate. And what am I going to spend it on? Fuck Iroka a few more times? A higher purpose?

What am I supposed to spend it on? Thinking about the meaning of life? That everything in the world is wrong, everything in the world is wrong? Well, I'll have plenty of time to think about that at home. When I get back. There's not much else for me to do there. At my age. Just sit there and think. You can think till you're blue in the face.

This is not about thinking, it's about doing. Do it! It's young and green, you're free to go for a walk. Love till you love! Fuck till... Yeah... I can't rhyme. I'm not a poet. Well, it doesn't matter. While you're young, anyway. While I want to! While you can. As long as I canит. And then. Eh, a tailed itchy tail! «And what I'll have to pay later, / But that's later!» Burn it all later! We can't live two young lives!

This is probably the only thing, by the way, that I have learnt in my stupid and worthless life. I've learnt. A little late, of course, as usual, a little late, but fate is giving me another chance. To live young again for two hours. She was probably just in a good mood, the old witch. She was fed up, to the brim. Gluttonous. She'd eaten some poor bastard, and she'd gone soft. Relaxed. She thought, let me do a good deed out of boredom. Just for a change. So.

I got fucking lucky! I won the lottery. The lottery of life. For the first and last time. Lucky me. Well, live it up!

Together with Irka, by the way. She's probably thinking the same thing now, poor thing, racking her little brain. How to make the best use of her winnings. A fucking gift from fucking fate. A gift from her, an unexpected gift. «Fear the Danites who bring gifts», ─ he immediately remembered a quote that suited the occasion.

He thought gloomily: "Fear the Trojan horses," he said. ─ And fate, the villainous fate, usually throws only such horses. Trojan horses. Stuffed. With a surprise. When you're a horse and a horse on the outside, but there's a fuck-up inside. waiting to happen. All those crazy Menelaus Odysseus, goddamn it!

All right, though. I don't care! We Russians have another saying for this case. Saved, so to speak. The wisdom of the ages. «You don't look a gift horse in the mouth.» Not even a Trojan horse. We'll sort it out!

- All right, stop being sad! ─ He pushed Irochka again. ─ Long thought ─ unnecessary sorrow! No matter what you think, it's the same thing. Let's have a good time there, that's all! You can think for a hundred years, but you can't think of anything better than that!

Irochka looked at him in surprise, and Krasin said: «Why am I using only proverbs and sayings, like a clown at a fair? I've read so much fucking rubbish in my life! Now it's coming out of me. A belch of education. No thoughts of my own. All borrowed. Very convenient! One thing at a time! A quote-unquote adage! A fucking joke, a fucking joke, a joke. I'm in a bad mood again with all these arsehole thoughts. I was in such a good mood. I've got to stop all this thinking. Self-examination. With all this Dostoevsky stuff.».

- Listen! He stopped suddenly, looking at Ira in disbelief. She stopped too, and looked at him in bewilderment.

Well? Why are you looking at me like that?

─ Look at yourself in the mirror.

─ Why?

─ Look, look, look!

Irochka shrugged and reached into her purse.

- You don't notice anything?

What am I supposed to notice?

─ Can't you really see anything?

No, I don't think so.

─ You've changed! ─ Excitedly declared, almost shouted Krasin.

─ More beautiful. Much prettier! In fact, she's become a written and unwritten beauty! Just like from a fairy tale. Irina the Beautiful. Oh, my God!

He stepped back a few steps, gave the girl an admiring look, and even clucked his tongue in delight:

- Tse-tse-tse! Well, you've got a figure now! Nice! A doll. You're just a goddess now! Venus of Milos. Aphrodite. Cyprida. There's no such thing in life!

Irochka opened her mouth in amazement and listened to him for a while, then frantically grabbed her mirror and began to look at it avidly.

- Yeah. No way! Really... It's both me and not me... I've got this right here... And... Yes! It's all gone! What does that mean?! What the hell is that!? ─ She stared at Krasin with burning eyes. ─ And the figure too?

You should see your legs right now! From the ears! Krasin suddenly ran up to the girl and unceremoniously grabbed her breast. The girl recoiled in fright at the surprise. ─ That's right! What size breasts did you have? Second? ─ The girl nodded reluctantly, a little embarrassed. ─ And look at what I have now!

Irochka hastily groped herself and looked up at Krasin with completely dazed eyes:

- Mum's rоA dreadful one!

You're a bombshell now! He laughed. I always thought your breasts were a little small. Well, just a little. But now it's just right. Just right. It's just right. It's just right. Just the way I like it.

Krasin paused for a moment, listening to himself and his new sensations, and continued more calmly and almost thoughtfully:

- You've become exactly what I always wanted you to be. The perfect girl of my dreams. The perfect Ira Belyaeva. Your looks have adapted to my tastes. ─ It's improved, ─ he paused a little longer. ─ But inside you haven't changed a bit. That's strange. Not one bit! You're exactly the woman I met yesterday. I'm sorry, the day before yesterday! Why do I keep getting it wrong? This is the second time already... Yes... You're the same... No better and no worse.

─ How do you know all this? Irochka asked in astonishment.

─ I know!... ─ Krasin replied in the same thoughtful manner. ─ I know, that's all. I feel it. That sorcerer warned me that I would have some new and extraordinary ─ well, extraordinary, I mean ─ opportunities here. Now they seem to be appearing.

That's what he said: You will feel them. I do feel them now... But somehow it seems to me that this is not the end, ─ ─ after another pause, he added even more thoughtfully. ─ There will be some more. There will be more.

(And I'm the only one who isn't happy about it, ─ he continued to himself. ─ I don't know why. I'm not happy ─ that's all! My soul is aching for some reason... It's a pain.

What's with all the tricks? What kind of games are they playing with me? What could be simpler than that? If she changed so easily outwardly, then let her change inwardly to suit me. She'd fall in love with me like a cat and follow me around on a string, looking me in the mouth.

But no! On the inside, she's just as much of a bitch as she was. Even worse. More dangerous. A super beautiful bitch. Super bitch. That's a hell of a mix! Atomic sex bomb. A fucking neutron bomb. Kills everything in the neighbourhood. No-one's ever moved after her!

I don't really care, though, do I? Where's she gonna go from me? She's still afraid I'll send her back. And now she'll be even more afraid when she sees with her own eyes how great and all-powerful I am. Seeing for herself, so to speak.

By the way, can I really send it back? I don't know. Maybe I can. Maybe not. I can't figure it out yet. Oh, come on. She's not going anywhere. That much is clear.

And anyway! She must have at least a little gratitude to me, a little appreciation, after all! For making her so beautiful. Does she have a conscience? What kind of conscience do these women have?! They have false eyelashes instead of a conscience. They put them on and take them off as needed...

Okay, that's not what I'm thinking about right now. Not that! There was something else there... Something important... Something else the sorcerer from the bakery told me. Fucking psychic. Or warned me... Warned me... What, what, what?...

Ah, yes! «Be careful with these new features of yours!» Or was it «be careful»? I can't remember, it doesn't matter. It's either in the forehead or on the forehead. So? What does this dream mean? What does it mean, «Careful, careful»? So maybe I shouldn't have made Irka Miss World then? To the dismay of all the local Komsomol members. I was quite satisfied with her in her previous form... If it comes to that....

How will she go home now? Turn into an old woman again from Irina the Beautiful? A goddess. Women are very sensitive to such things...

What's it got to do with me, though? It's not like it happened on my watch. I had nothing to do with it. I had nothing to do with it. Or was it «dependent»? Didn't you want it to happen? And here you are. Dinner is served!

Oh, shit! I don't understand anything anymore! All your fucking psychological twists and turns. Your fucking puzzles. «Depends!», «independently!». «I wanted to», «I didn't want to». Fuck all of you and your witchcraft stuff. Yes, I wanted to! Yes, I wanted to! So what? What's next?

I'm a simple man. I like Irka better like this. When she's a size bigger and has shapelier legs. Not to mention everything else. I'd like to fuck her better like that. That's it! Full stop. I don't care about the rest. I don't care about anything else! I don't care about anything else! I don't care! I don't give a fuck! I don't give a fuck. I'm on a sex tour!

Or shall we ask her now? Is she glad she's prettier or not? Come on, come on, come on! «Irochka, darling, maybe you want to become bluer again, so that the transition afterwards would not be too sharp? А?.. That's fine!»

In short, it's consensual! It's better for her and better for me. The matter is closed. I'm absolutely right. I'm right. Damn it! But why do I feel so rotten? I feel like I lied to a child. My heart is aching.

«Heart»!!! Why am I standing here whining, you tell me!?! What kind of person am I? I'm neither fish nor flesh. Some kind of chimera. What's it called? A lion's head and a goat's body? Or vice versa? Oh, I don't remember. A goat with a lion's mane. They made a woman into a sweetie, Cleopatra-Nefertiti, for fuck's sake ─ young, beautiful, fuck and be happy! No! Not again! Oh, for fuck's sake! Another man in my place would be jumping up and down with joy! (A goat. With a lion's mane.) And me?

Thinking, you see, standing there thinking. I'm wasting precious time again. A woman is at hand, and I'm standing here masturbating. I'm messing with her head. Fucking thinker. A thinker. Fucking Hamlet. «To be or not to be?» «To be or not to be?» And if I do or don't, to whom? Yes, of course I'll put it in. Put it in, take it out and put it in again! Put it in Ophelia's arse! That's what Ophelia is for. They need to be staked. Otherwise they drown themselves in grief. Take it! While you're thinking, she'll give it to someone else. Do I need a birth or what? You told her not to think!

And yet! Did I do it or didn't I? Put your hand on your heart. Well, I did! I did! I did! I did! I did! I suddenly felt I could do it, and I couldn't resist. I decided to try it right away. To improve the breed, so to speak. Well, I didn't ask her, I just didn't have time. It all happened spontaneously. One! ─ and... A Princess instead of a frog. Well, I repent, I repent! All right, my fault.

But what difference does it make?! What? Well, I would have asked. Would she have said no? Is there a woman in the world who would refuse? Is there, I ask you? Show her to me! No! No, no, no, no! There is no such woman and there can't be. No such woman! So the result would still be exactly the same. That's it!!! Enough! Let's go and enjoy the fruits of our righteous labours now. Irochka's new one. Skim the foam off her. To chip it. To see if everything is exactly right for me now. Or did I try for nothing?

The devil! I didn't do it for nothing! And the whole consensual thing is rubbish! Women are like children in these matters. They lose their heads. It's like a child reaching for a candle. You shouldn't have shown her such a toy. You can't! Tempt her. The devil! God damn it! Are you playing God, you miserable prick? We warned you, didn't we? Fuck!)

- Come on, let's go, what's the point of hanging around here! ─ Krasin shook his head, driving away his gloomy thoughts. ─ But let's go separately, so as not to attract attention. You go a little ahead, and I'll follow you. I can't walk next to you now. You're like a spotlight. I can see you a mile away.

As he approached the gate, Krasin hesitated, patting his pockets in search of his student ID card. Meanwhile, Irochka had already managed to get into the institute. Krasin finally found his ticket (it was in his shirt, in his breast pocket), admired his photo, how smart and serious he was in it (well, how!... a future scientist husband! Archimedes, for fuck's sake!), and then also entered the lobby.

«My God! How familiar everything is, and yet how strange it all looks now! ─ Krasin looked round and frankly turned his head. ─ All these sickles and hammers.» He noticed that Irochka had stopped in front and was already chatting away with two girls he didn't know. Girlfriends? Not from their course, I guess...? He hadn't seen anyone he knew yet. They were looking at Irochka. She shone in the centre of the lobby like some little sun. It made Krasin's soul even heavier. I gave her a fucking Cinderella story. The clock strikes midnight, and-- Only, unlike the fairy tale, it's forever.

In general, he again had some uneasy, gnawing feeling that he was wasting time. The clock would indeed soon strike midnight. Something must be done! Some other way to spend these precious minutes! These truly precious two hours. What's he going to spend them on, anyway? Empty conversations about nothing with his fellow students, who are of absolutely no interest to him now or then? From whom nothing ever came out of their lives. Neither did he, for that matter. Well, who cares? It did or it didn't. That's not what I'm thinking about. I've got to do something! Now. Right now. What a waste of time!

By the way, if this is really something like a parallel world, as the sorcerer explained to me, which doesn't intersect with our world in any way, then I can do anything here. As long as I don't get caught in two or three hours. Or even kill someone! Pokа they'll find me. They won't find me in two hours. And then I won't be here. I'll be gone! Even if they find me! It'll just be a shame that I'll spend all my two hours in the station like an arsehole. But then I'll disappear anyway. I'll go back. Back to my world. Anyway, I've got nothing to fear here.

The smart thing to do would be to pick any chick you like, take her somewhere, fuck her and strangle her afterwards. So she doesn't make a fuss. A lot of new sensations.

No! It's just another load of rubbish in my head! This is bullshit! Firstly, how to get her; secondly, where to; and thirdly, what the hell do I need it for? Why do I need any other chicks, when I have a beautiful Irochka I've never seen before, never been fucked. My beloved pussy. That's why I came here. My first love. Almost untouched. Not yet tasted. Well, so... sucked once to start with, but that doesn't count. It was just a warm-up. It was a workout. And with an outdated model.

And now it's time to get to the main action, so to speak. Action. With the improved one. Because I want it again. I want, I want, I want, I want! Where is she? Stop telling her. We're not even making sense. All this walking: you in front, me behind. I don't have time for all this nonsense. And who's to be embarrassed about? All of them? They'll be gone in two hours anyway. They're not real. They'll just come back to life for a while. Like in Faust, in the second part of Faust... Okay, ugh! Enough of all this chatter. Hurry up, hurry up! Let's start with Irochka. Well, where is she?

Krasin snatched her gaze from the crowd and moved forward with determination.

- Excuse me, Ir, can I talk to you for a second? ─ approaching closely to the still enthusiastically chatting trio, he addressed Irochka rather unceremoniously. The other two girls immediately, as if on cue, fell silent and stared at him in a kind of almost comical indignation. As if he'd committed some sort of blatant tactlessness. He had interrupted a very important fucking conversation. What pants to wear tomorrow.

Worthless fools! Mannequin dolls. Two-hour-disposable! ─ thought Krasin in angry annoyance.

Irochka, too, looked at him in surprise, looked at him with the other girls, shrugged her shoulders a little (I don't understand what this impudent and ignorant man wants from me!) and only then slowly and as if reluctantly, smoothly floated towards him. Fucking tsar's maiden! Fucking bitch.

- Listen, stop fooling around! ─ Krasin whispered fiercely to her. ─ What are we wasting our time on? Walking round in a crawl so that nobody notices anything? We're just like a little girl and a little boy. Chattering with these ghosts that have come to life? Why do we even pay attention to them? They're not people! They're shadows! Ghosts. They'll be gone in two hours. Without a trace, forever. I don't give a damn about them! I don't care what they think! Are you crazy?! «Two hours»! «The only ones»! «Never»! «How can I spend it?» I thought and thought and thought. Talking to my girlfriends. Not even with girlfriends, but with who knows who. With fake girlfriends, for God's sake! Ugh! I knew all women were stupid, but to do something like this. I thought you'd be a little bit smarter than that.

Anyway, I want you again. I want you again! Only now I want to fuck you for real. Like a grown-up. The full programme. Let's start by looking for an empty auditorium. And then we'll see!

He almost ran towards the stairs leading to the floors.

- Wait, Oleg! ─ Irochka begged. ─ Let me at least apologise to the girls! It's embarrassing somehow...

─ Who's «uncomfortable»?! What «girls»!? ─ Krassin almost shouted back. ─ Wake up! Remember where we are! There's no them! No! It's all a mirage. A mirage created for two hours. An obsession! Fog. What do we have to do with them?! We only have two hours! Do you realise that?!

Irochka was frightened into silence. He was almost running down the stairs, jumping over a step. Irochka could hardly keep up with him.

Okay,... first floor... Let's see here first... Occupied... Occupied... «Excuse me!» I'm fucking sorry!? To who!? «Excuse me!» Ugh! What a load of bollocks! Yeah, really. Psychological barrier. It's my upbringing. That's the way it is. It turns out it's not easy to be rude. Even to ghosts. «Excuse me!» «Excuse me!» Well, to hell with them! Where? Where!? Fucking last classroom... That's it! Fucking hell! Naked Vasya.

I gotta go to the third floor. Fucking hell! I'm just gonna spend the next two hours running around here like a madman? Jumping up and down stairs? Like some fucking giant grasshopper. Like a jumping dragonfly. «Well, how was your journey, honoured Oleg Viktorovich? Did you enjoy it? Did you have a good time there at least?» - «Fucking great! Excellent!» Fucking hell! No, I'm fuckin' blown away!

Between the second and third floor Krasin was suddenly called out.

- Hi, Oleg! - one of his institute mates was standing in front of him. The same Zheka who died in a car crash a year later. Oh, my God! Get lost! The power of the cross is with us!

- Hello, Zheka! - Krasin could hardly bring himself to say, barely restraining himself from the instinctive urge to cross himself.

- Why are you looking at me like that? - My mate asked in surprise.

- Y-yes... Y-yes... n-no... n-nothing... Nothing! It's fine! It's okay! It's okay!

(Shit! How did they talk back then? What kind of expressions? Idioms? «Normal» - where's that from? From there or from here? Wouldn't it be better to just use one word? I'm sure it hasn't changed.

«Oh, fuck it! Never mind that! Everything's fucking fine!»

Although, «never mind»... Shit! What am I thinking again!!!? «From there»! «From here»!.

Oh, and by the way, about «fucked up.» I don't look like I'm gonna be «fucked up» today if this keeps up. I'll be fucked up, that's for sure. I'm already fucked! I've been hanging around here like Ruslan round the head for an hour. «I'm not whistling, I'm not whistling, I'm not whistling!» Only it's the other way round. I'm whistling, I'm whistling, but I can't go. I can't get it down. I can't get it into my head.

Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Get out!!! Stop talking. Enough!!!

It's about time you got down to business. To hit and run for once. Unlike that impotent Ruslan. Who probably just didn't have a boner. So he's crying to the head. Help me! I've been going and going in bed lately, but I can't get there, I can't get a hard-on, and even if I do get there, if I get a hard-on sometimes by accident, I still can't come. I won't let go. Well, instead of helping the man, she began to laugh at him. Well, word for word... Yes... Funny. Fucking humour. In short trousers. I'm the humourist. A whistler. Like Nightingale the Bandit. Whistle, whistle, whistle.)

- Sorry, Jack. I'm in a hurry right now. (I'll talk to you later. (In hell!)

His mate looked at him strangely, then shifted his gaze to the inhumanly beautiful Ira, who was standing next to him, but said nothing. However, Krasin had almost forgotten about him. Immediately, as soon as he turned away. No time! He doesn't care about ghosts now. No time. No time.

Although, of course, there's something strange about it all. It's unnatural. Such an event, a journey into the past, into another world, and all I can think about is how to fuck a woman here. Even if it's a woman I've wanted and loved for a long time. Don't I have other interests? Higher, more important ones? It's kind of insulting...

What are the «other interests»? Of course not! Love! Love! Love is the most important thing in life. «Aimons, dansons et chantons». «We love, dance and sing.» That's life. Everything else is a ponce. From the evil one. Ah! There's also «buvons», I think. «Drink.» Unless I've completely forgotten French. That's also correct... But anyway, first «aimons»! Aimons! Aimons! Aimons! The more the better. And then everything else. All those chantons and dansons. Then we'll sing and dance. For the joy of finally giving it to you. At last. Hmm?.

Fucking hell!! I'm just a mouthy blabbermouth! I'm a wordsmith. I'm a rinse-a-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee-dee. I'm speechless, I've got verbal diarrhoea! Mental fucking poisoning. Time acclimatisation. The disease of all travellers and tourists. Must be thinking of something stale. About all those zombies, for example, how cute they'll all be in 20 years... That's it! THAT'S IT! That's it.

Now it's all about fucking. Fuck, fuck and fuck! As the great Lenin willed. And no nails! As Mayakovsky added.

That's right. I'd have to be careful about the nails. I'm sure you'll have to fuck her on the table. Where else? Or on chairs. No, what am I talking about? What chairs? «What dog?» They'll split at the most crucial moment. You'll break something. You'll break something. That's just what I fucking need here! What's the saying? «If you're stupid, you'll break your dick»? That's right!

You can. By falling off chairs. Nothing. Like Pinocchio upside down. The sorcerer will be ashamed to look you in the eye. «Well, how's Irochka?» «I was there... you see...»

On the table, in short!

That is, not in the sense of «shorter», that you can have a shorter cock when fucking on the table, because there is more room for manoeuvre than on chairs, or that the act itself is more comfortable on the table, but in the sense that... Oh shit! Wow! When you're overexcited, when you think about it, all words become potentially sexual, they take on a second meaning. They do. A second breath! Subtext. Even the most seemingly trivial, neutral and innocuous. Ordinary.

Amazing! I never noticed that before. I just never noticed it. Probably because I've never been overexcited. Or maybe it's because I've always settled for surrogates. Erzates. Whether he'd give it to me or not, it didn't matter. I didn't really want it. But here, I really wanted it. Very much! Very much! I really wanted to! I mean, I want to. And in the most direct sense. The first one. Without any subtexts or backwards thoughts.

«Under» is also a very sexy prefix. It has two meanings... It has two meanings. And the second one lies under the first one... And she also has them both... As for the back thoughts.....

That's it! I think I've lost my mind! Temporary sexual insanity. Spermotoxicosis. Or what do you call it? Semen hitting you in the head? With a sledgehammer. (Aha! Third floor. Well, what's here? Busy... Busy...)

Well, on the table. «All in all» is okay, right? Well, except for a slight hint of a gangbang... An orgy... But that's a bit of a stretch... I'm a bit of a stretch. This what's-her-name. «semantic hallucination.» There's also this band... They have this song... «Forever Young». From the film «Brother». It's about me. I'm «eternally young» in a way. Well, not forever. Temporarily. Temporarily young. Just for two hours. Which run away, float away, drip away without a trace! Drip! Drip! Drip! «I could drink the sea...» «I could fuck Ira...»

If I could find a free fucking classroom in this fucking institute!!! Crammed full of all sorts of dumb-ass arseholes. Tucked away in every single fucking classroom! Well! («Excuse me!») Fucking academic fuckers. I was such an idiot back then. I was sitting like that too. Chewing on granite. What did I end up sitting on? Gnawed? A full head of baldness? (Yeah. So, what was I thinking about? Oh, right. On the table, then. («Excuse me!» I wish you'd all die! Dried up! At their computers. They didn't even have computers back then. Just big ones. Stationary computers.)

Sit her, my darling, on the edge of the table, spread her legs... Or lie down. It's a big table. No, lying down's not right. They'll come in. They'll catch me. They'd be creeps. That will be the end of my sexual exploits here. The rest of my time here will be spent arguing with the local authorities. The fucking dean of the fucking school. Or whoever.

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh! Empty!!! Empty auditorium!!! Well, finally! Found it.

Krasin stepped aside to let Irochka pass, then grabbed the first chair he could find and put its leg into the door handle, blocking it. Let them break in if they want to. Fuck them! «I don't care about that ─ I really want to!»

He, trembling with excitement, literally pushed Irochka to the nearest table and sat her down on it, pulling her dress up high and spreading her legs wide. At the sight of her bare thighs and dazzling white panties, everything went blurry in front of his eyes again, just as it had done in the entrance.

- Wait, Irochka whispered, pulled him away with her hand, gently jumped to the floor, hurriedly took off her knickers and slipped them into her pocket, then, carefully straightening her dress, sat down on the table and spread her legs wide. The tight, curly hairs between her legs were also red.

Krasin, completely losing his head at the sight of the seductive and enticing spectacle that had opened to him, a spectacle that he had seen in his secret, intimate dreams a thousand times before, unable to take his eyes off it, and almost unable to understand anything and not seeing or hearing anything else around him, quickly pulled down his pants and trousers and, tangling in them (the trousers, of course, immediately fell down to his shoes), clumsily stepping over with straight legs, clumsily waddled over to the table. Irochka looked at his slightly trembling, extremely tense procreative organ, which looked like a clock hand pointing at half past two, with glittering eyes.

As soon as Krasin came close, the girl leaned back slightly with her whole body and, leaning behind her back on the table with straight arms, with her legs around his body at the level of his waist. With his right hand, shaking with excitement, Krasin moistened the head of his penis with saliva and pressed it several times ─ up and down! down and up! ─ along the narrow slit, which was slightly open and invitingly opened in the woman's flesh, pinkish inside, gaping. (Irochka breathed often, watching all his actions.) And finally, holding her breath, slowly-slowly introduced there, inside, into something soft-soft! tender-soft! all his cock, ... all!.. without a trace!.. to the very end!..! (Irochka half-sobbed, half-sigh: «Ah-ah-ah!...» ─ and in sweet languor she closed her eyes, feeling him finally in herself, in her bosom!) he paused for a second, wishing to prolong this blissful moment as long as possible, then just as slowly and smoothly moved his pelvis backwards (Irochka again barely audibly sobbed: «Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!...», feeling this movement inside herself),... forward... back again..., and then at an ever-increasing pace, trying with all his might not to hurry and at the same time completely unable to help himself. The girl sighed deeply, intermittently, opened her eyes and, wrapping her arms around Krasin's neck, pressed herself against him with her whole body, shuddering voluptuously and shrieking briefly with each new thrust: «Aaaah!...! Aaah!.... Aaah!...,» quietly at first, and then louder and louder.

- Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh! Mi-i-i-i-i-i-i-iliy!... ─ she whispered, whispered, moaned, purred, when she felt that Krasin had come... and at the same moment the chair fell with a crash and the door opened! It had probably been shaken for a long time, but the happy lovers had not noticed anything around them for the last few minutes.

There was a furious teacher on the doorstep, and behind her I could see a whole crowd of cheerful students peering curiously into the room. Apparently, some group had a scheduled class in this room, so they'd shown up.

Krasin, taken by surprise, standing in the middle of the audience with his trousers down to the floor, completely confused and in a wild panic, looked back at them in horror and at the same moment felt that something had changed. He could not explain to himself how, but he had a clear sense of everyone present, as if he held in his hands some invisible threads controlling them all. He could do whatever he wanted with them now. If he wanted ─ they would freeze, if he wanted ─ they would move again. From now on he had complete control over them.

«You will have some new opportunities there. You'll just feel them in you ─ that's all,» he remembered the sorcerer's instructions again.

Aha! He felt it. Again. Just like he expected. Felt it. Even then. When Irochka. I made her beautiful. Well. Beautiful! Just beautiful. Wonderful. (Krasin took a deep breath: «Aaaaaaaaaaah!», recovering his breath.)

By the way, for the first time in all this time he really felt that he could really send Irochka home at any moment. Back to the future. Until now he had been bluffing. Though, however, that was the least of his worries right now. He wasn't going to send her anywhere. Especially now that the zombies seemed to be done with once and for all, there would be no more problems with them. Finally! Thank God!

They're like silk now. They're staring at me. That's right!

He calmly bent over, pulled up his trousers and began to clean himself up. Shit! His cock was wet and sticky. I wish I had something to wipe it with! A handkerchief or something. Or a tissue.

Suddenly a funny thought came into his head. He glanced at Ira. The frightened girl was standing modestly and innocently by her side. Her dress was in order, and everything else was in order. Well, she was studying science with a fellow student in a free classroom. Locked up so they wouldn't get in the way. She was into fucking scientific conclusions. And inputs. Krasin wouldn't be surprised if she'd already put her knickers on. Ladies at such moments are capable of more miracles and tricks! Like Copperfield!

Krasin looked at the teacher standing closest to him. Nothing, I guess... Young. He faintly moved his eyebrow, and the woman moved towards him. Irochka shrank back in fright. The woman came close to him, knelt down, gently took his powerless dick with her hands and began to lick it thoroughly. Krasin again looked at Irochka. She was staring at this scene with her eyes wide open, unable, apparently, to utter a word.

- Don't get so worked up," Krasin said casually, grinning and winking at her. I can control them all, it turns out. The sorcerer told me about it, but I didn't understand him then. Now I've finally figured it out. I've got my bearings. Under the influence of passion, I suppose, ─ he grinned again. ─ The biggest fucking shock!

(It was the first time he allowed himself to use profanity in front of Irochka. It just came out. Irochka was silent. She paid no attention to it at all. She didn't even seem to notice it. «Well, well!... ─ thought Krasin ironically. ─ Perhaps Madame's life experience is a little richer than it seems at first glance). Being caught unawares at the scene of the crime at the most, so to speak, crucial moment with his trousers down. It's a piquant situation. You'll get your bearings. So you don't become impotent for life.

- All right, that's enough! ─ he said, addressing the teacher. The woman obediently stood up, turned round and went to her original place by the door, on the threshold of the classroom.

Irochka gave her a long look, then turned to Krasin in complete amazement.

- So you can really do whatever you want to them? Like, just like that, you just give them an order and that's it? Nothing else?

(Krasin involuntarily felt a prick of jealousy. After all,... just now,... right in front of her eyes... Another woman... She could have at least taken a little fucking offence! Doesn't she care? What about all the oohs and ahhs? «Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh! Honey!»? Was it all a game? Didn't she feel anything at all?)

- I don't even have to tell you, ─ ─ he answered reluctantly. ─ I'm just saying that. For the sake of effect. ─ Krasin hesitated. He finished absent-mindedly, trying to make sense of his new superpowers. He was still not completely clear about them.

- Listen, Olezhek... Irochka began hesitantly. Krasin looked at her in amazement. «Olezhek! However! Well, what a thing to say! What tenderness. It was something new. She'd never called him that before.

You could see that the girl was hesitating and hesitating to say something.

- Well, well!... ─ Krasin encouraged her. ─ What's the matter?

Listen. You know... But don't take offence, okay?

─ Well, speak, speak! ─ He encouraged her again. He was curious.

No, you promise not to take offence?

For what?

No, you have to promise me first!

All right, all right, I promise, I promise! So what's the matter?

No, not «I promise, I promise,» but really promise. For real.

Oh, my God! All right, fine. I promise I won't take offence. For real. I solemnly swear. Are you happy?

Krasin's curiosity was piqued to the utmost. What else was she up to?

- No, really?

Oh, my God! It's true, it's true! No offence! Speak up! Well?

Irochka glanced at him quickly, frowned, and, blushing slightly (Krasin noticed it with pleasure), said quietly-quietly: «Kiss me.».

What-oh?" questioned Krasin in a daze.

Come on, kiss me! Give me a hug.

Krasin, not understanding anything, obediently embraced and kissed the girl. He wanted to pull away, but Irochka nestled hotly against him, and the kiss was passionate and long.

- Do you love me? She whispered even more softly.

─ I love, ─ without thinking, Krasin lied. (To fuck! ─ he immediately added to himself.)

- Oh, really?

─ Truth.

(Oh, what a drag! The truth, the truth, the truth. What, I wonder, is she going to say to me after such a long preface? She still can't make up her mind. «Can't I know what's the matter with the creature, / To whom the preface is so loud?» Should I confess what it is? I have no idea!)

Did you have a good time with me?

Sure. And you? ─ ─ He couldn't resist asking, either.

Very much! Very, very much! ─ Krasin grinned smugly and stroked the girl's head. ─ Really! You're the best man in the world. The best! Sweetie, ─ Krasin stroked again.

- So what did you want to tell me... love? ─ After a pause, he asked. («Sweetheart»... Male gender ─ «sweetheart». Hmm... Sweetheart!)

- Olegka, can I have someone else now? You know, one of them? You can order them, can't you?

What do you mean, «with someone else»? He was dumbfounded, questioned Krasin, staring at the obviously embarrassed girl.

Well, you can't yet anyway, and they're kind of not real anyway. (Yes, they're not real... Fucking kids! But they fuck like grown-ups, ─ Krasin remembered an old joke.)

Didn't you cum? He said the first thing that came into his head, not knowing what to say.

- No, of course she did! I did! Irochka pressed herself against Krasin, who was standing like a pillar, and kissed him hotly on the lips. ─ But you know it's different with us women. (Yes! ─ flashed in Krasin's mind.) I want it again.... ─ She confessed shamefully, barely audible.

(Yeah!... So much for Irochka! A pai-girl. She's talking like that! Openly. I want a man, but you don't have a hundredит. And that's just the flowers. Just to be polite. Just because she wants something from me. That she needs to ask my permission. That it won't work without me.

But the truth is: I want a man, and preferably a new one! Fresh. If there's a choice. For a change. Anyway, my darling, when you get a hard-on again, I'm ready. You're welcome. I'll serve you out of turn! With great pleasure. I love you, you know I do. I love you more than anyone. All of them, all of them, all of them! Sweetie.

In the meantime, while my little sweetie is resting and gaining strength ─ well, why should I be idle? I'll get some exercise. Bye.

And really, why should it stand idle? ─ Krasin thought suddenly. ─ She's right. There's not much time, why waste it on adoration and cuddling and hugging? And with whom? Who am I to her? No-one. We haven't seen each other for ages. She wanted to run away from me at first. And all that «honey» and «love» stuff is just part of the price. It's part of the deal. I told her myself: «fake it!» So she's doing it. She's doing the best she can. She's working it off.

But in her free time from «image»... Why shouldn't she, in fact, relax? Have fun. Relax. Body and soul. Let her imagination run wild!

Especially an opportunity like this! A fabulous one. Which will never happen again in your life. You're young, beautiful, desirable! Full of vigour. And all the men are yours for two hours! At your complete mercy. Do whatever you want with them! You can fuck them yourself. And no one will ever know. And it's not like it's real. Like a dream. There's always an excuse for yourself. If you're so fucking fair and honest.

Yeah. I'd do it myself if I were her. I would fuck all the women around me, one by one, in all holes and in all ways, but, unfortunately, I can't. Fucking physiology! Seeing is seeing, but not knowing. Yeah... «Tooth»... Now wait for it to get up. This tooth. It'll grow. Shit!

Let her fuck! Like a cat. With everyone. What do I care? You're welcome! I'm not her husband, after all. It's good that she'll give him horns, another one in my presence. It's interesting to watch. Curious. Maybe I'll join in. ─ at this thought Krasin felt a pleasant excitement. Not only there was no jealousy, but even on the contrary. Suddenly he himself was on fire with the idea.

That's right! Gangbang. Orgy. Orgy, orgy, orgy, orgy! We should get her into a threesome. Although she probably won't agree to a threesome at first... Although... Well, let her start, let her warm up. She'll get into the process, and then we'll see. We'll see. How it goes! How it goes in. And how it goes in. What's the point of wasting time? I'll always get mine anyway. I have a feeling she's got enough for everyone. I wish she had enough for everyone. She's a serious girl... Anyway, there's a lot of people at the institute.

And it's a direct benefit for me, too, by the way. And it's nice to watch... I'll get excited... I'll get excited... My tooth, in short, will grow faster. The one that's still «numb». Although I'm getting horny again. But it's still a tooth. All right, enough of this chatter again. Is it starting again? What am I thinking again? Oh, God, it's all «again»! Five «agains» in a row! Or is it four? Well, it doesn't matter. It's just excitement, I guess. Excitement. Yes, so what was I thinking badly again? (Well, there's the missing fifth!) Spoilt? I don't think it was anything. Ah! A threesome. Sexual orgies. Episodes and mass scenes. It's too spicy. Same effect on the mind. Mentally lax. Bad digestion. At first. Then it's fine. You get used to it. Him, him, you and me, we're a family! It's okay! I'll get used to it.

That's a nice thought. Spicy, salty, spicy. Livening up the main course. Like a sauce. Gives it a new flavour. Spicy. Everybody fight against blandness! All of us.

Krasin couldn't wait to get started himself. Why wait? Time!

He looked at Irochka with a new look. He imagined her standing on all fours... one underneath, under her... well, as usual!.. having her... using her... in other words, where usually... works, boy!.. tries!.. traditionally, so to speak... yes... the second - from behind, in her ass, of course... fucks her slowly... sniffing with pleasure... with feeling, with sense, with purpose, with arrangement!.. it's better to let it be some of their mutual acquaintance! it's more spicy!.. well, and the third - the one in front, in her mouth!.. in her mouth!... in her mouth!.. She sucks the third one. Licking him... Licking him... With her tongue. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. That's it! That's it! That's it! Good girl. My little nipple... Sweetie... Sweetie...

I can go to the front too. When I look at it and admire it... Give it to her too... Suck and lick a little... To get excited... Stroke her soft and silky hair, her head, whisper tender words in her ear, leaning over for a second and interrupting.... Then straighten up again, put it into her mouth again with a smile, and, without stopping the movements for a moment, ask timidly, without words, with just one finger pointing at ... may I?... well, please!.. please... And only when she understands, nods bashfully, gives permission, blushing and frowning, answers with her eyes alone, with her gaze: «yes!.. permission...» not before!..!. - behind her then. To drive away the zombie of this acquaintance - that's enough! to order him mentally: go, say, in her mouth now give it to her! - and - yourself... In his place... On the beaten track.....

Up her arse, my sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet girl. My little star. My little sunshine. In the arse!.. My favourite, my most desirable... Without hurrying... Without any unnecessary fuss... To admire her... Her bottom... At a furious pace...! To kiss her back... her thighs... to tickle... lightly... with my lips, with my fingertips barely touching her.... Here, here, here, here. And here, and here, my pussy... And here... Yes, yes... Yes!... Yes! Wait until she starts sucking our friend's pussy... Looking up into his eyes with a smile... The one she's been sucking from the beginning... Bring him over too, let him join in, there's no reason for him to be lazy... Let her work with both of you at once... She'll gain experience... That's right...! That's good. Now we're all in business.

And then her smooth, firm and dazzling sugar-white buttocks, like purity itself, like innocence, like snow in winter! gently and lovingly spread even wider, the head of the penis, lovingly licked by her a second ago and still wet from her drooling girl's saliva, to her little pink hole, gently put it there, ... wait a little, ... take her thighs ... tighter!.. but not roughly, not roughly!.. squeeze them with the palms of your hands!... hesitate a little, ... try it on ... take her hips ... firmly!.. but not roughly, not roughly!.. squeeze them with the palms of my hands! Her hips are precise, flawless and perfect!.. like this!.. take a deep breath ... and - r-rah!!! all the way!... One thrust, one sharp pelvic thrust. Aah!.

Put it in her!!! Put it all the way up her arsehole, all at once, all the way up to her balls. Pull it out, and then some more. And then some more. Remembering and imagining how she was being fucked in the arse just now by our mutual friend, the one she was sucking now. Pulling it out and putting it in! Pulling it out and putting it in. Over and over again. He was panting and drooling and snotting with happiness... Right in front of my eyes!... He was doing it! Like on a spit! To the stake! The slut! Sh-slut!!! More! More! To the end!!! While she was serving two others at the same time. And how she, the goat, screamed and shrieked, twisted and turned, the scum, under all of them and cum! Cum! Cum! Cum! Cum! And she looked back with delight, whimpering like a horny bitch, at the one who was fucking her in the arse. She kept grabbing him with her hand. She wanted to see his cock enter her. Into her arsehole! All the way in! It excited her to the point of madness. The whore loved it. Watching the man she knew shove it up her arse. touching him with her hand. She's sucking him off with such pleasure. She's looking into his eyes with devotion! Like a doggy... That's right! It's nice to give pleasure to a good man!... Cum on her face! Both of you! At once! Come on! Right now! Do it now! Fuck her in her mouth!!! Now! That's it! That's it! That's it! Oh my God, how much! And in his mouth, and all over his face... Licking still, sh-beast,... smiling!...!. Is it good? You cheap slut!..! You're a slut! The dirtier the better!!!! The more savoury the better!!! In contrast!!!!..

Hey, you down there! Hurry up! Faster!!! Move! Come on! Cum too!!! Right in her! Fuck her, you bastard!!! Come on! Hurry up, or her screaming will make my ears pop!.. That's it! That's it! I see it. And the whore's cumming again. She's trembling all over, kissing and kissing her bottom like a madwoman in ecstasy and sobbing... moaning and sobbing... Bitch!.. Shuddering right... with her whole body... And contractions... of the anus... yes!.. feel... with my cock... More... More... More... More... More... More!... O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o! I'm going to come too! Now! I'm going to cum in her arse now!!!! My first love as a teenager. My dream! I'm gonna fuck her in the arse!!!!!! Yeah, yeah, yeah. Right now, right now! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! AAH!!!-AAH!!!-AAH!!!-AAH!!!-AAH!!!-AAH!!!-AAH!!!-AAH!!!-AAH!!!-AAH!!!!!!!!!!!. Yes!!! Yes! Yes! Yes! My joy!.. I-irochka!.. What you are!.. You had a good time, didn't you? Didn't I? Didn't you, my little girl? I did too... It was really good... And what a sweet little arse you have... it turns out... S! -s! -s!... Oh-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o... I don't even want to pull out... I don't want to leave you... your beautiful body... to take you out... Oh-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o... S-s-s-s-s...

Y-yeah... Great!!! Nice!!! Top class! - Krasin seemed to wake up, so vivid and colourful and imaginative were all these pictures that had just presented themselves to him. It was as if he really, really experienced it all right now. He was still breathing hard. - I really haven't tried it in the arse yet," he smirked to himself. - You should... Especially in such an arse. So that all the dishes. The whole menu. According to the price list. And also under this way with sauce! Interesting. Very interesting. Really, really, really interesting. Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry! Time! Time, time, time, time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time! Time!)

- No, well, I don't mind! Krasin turned to Irochka, who was still looking at him incredulously (and had no idea what had just happened to her!).

She looked at him curiously at first, but then smiled with relief, took a breath and relaxed a little. She was probably still very afraid in her heart of his possible reaction to this prank of hers a la enfant terrible. In the style of a horrible child. Her unpredictable consequences. Phew! And you're home, next to your snoring fool of a husband.

Krasin noted all this to himself, and it even flattered him. He liked it. That's right! Let him be afraid.

- Come on, let's try it, if you want! I myself will be interested to see... How do you... (Irochka shot her eyes at him, smiled weakly, blushed and faded.) Well, shall we go and choose? ─ He was almost rubbing his hands with anticipation. ─ Or maybe you want to go with this... well, with your future husband?» It suddenly struck Krasin.

(What was his name...? Andrei? Sergei? I don't remember. The thought of a husband was unpleasant. This is already, my joy, a clear preference. It's not a long way back. To the pantheon. It's one thing to have sex for the sake of sex, I understand that, and quite another to have a specific partner. Especially a future husband... Are we back to our own again? A lot of ─ this, please! It's for your health! Sexual gymnastics. I'm not jealous of many people. They are like Alexander the Great's heirs, unable to hold together what he alone possessed. Fucking diadochos. But one. Well, well, well.)

- No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! ─ Irochka almost waved her hands. ─ With my husband I'll still... Well, in general, I'll still have time with him. My whole life.

Ah, well, I see, ─ Krasin immediately thawed out. ─ That's right, too. Let's go then, shall we? What's the time to waste? We can have a viewing right here. I'll bring them in one by one, and you choose. Especially as there's furniture here, ─ he nodded at the tables. Irochka smiled embarrassedly again and looked in the direction Krasin had indicated. Her embarrassment excited Krasin even more. ─ We'll move it in case of anything... And where is it? On the floor? Well, what? Shall we start?

Irochka cast a glance towards the door and nodded.

- One at a time? Krasin clarified.

Yes, let them come in one at a time, ─ ─ the girl asked in a low voice. .

─ Are you only going to look at them, or are you going to feel them too? ─ Krasin winked cynically at her. ─ Like breeding stallions. Breeding bulls.

Irochka glowed again and became embarrassed.

Krasin mentally chose the first male he could find and ordered her in. To be exact, «ordered» was not the right word. He simply entered the young man's consciousness and, remaining himself in his own body, saw everything from the outside, through his eyes. It was impossible to put this sensation into words, just as it was impossible to describe, to put into words any feeling at all, say, sight, touch, smell, but it, this sensation, was undoubtedly present. It was there! It was there, that's all. I see now why that sorcerer did not explain anything to him. How can you explain it? How can you explain to a man born blind: «You will see from now on?» If he doesn't know what sight is at all? What is «seeing»? When he sees, he will understand.

The man entered. Irochka glanced at him furtively, then turned to Krasin and shook her head negatively. She was probably still embarrassed.

- The next one? Krasin asked her loudly. Irochka nodded.

- Don't be afraid! ─ Krasin said to her. ─ They don't understand anything now anyway. Like living mannequins. Robots... However, later, if you want, you can give them back some of their senses, ─ he immediately reassured her. ─ Hearing or sight, say. Or speech. We can do anything! And why should you fuck mannequins... Suck a robot... You're not a calf. (A heifer! ─ he grinned to himself.) There should be feedback. Pleasure is not only to receive, but also to give. I understand...

Uttering absent-mindedly all these profound maxims, Krasin simultaneously looked at what was happening through the eyes of a dark-haired boy standing in the middle of the room.

Red-haired slender girl... Beautiful... Very... Insanely... Fabulous!... Dazzlingly beautiful... Unbelievable!...

There's an unattractive guy next to him... Completely ordinary... Baa!.... It's me! I don't look good from the outside... Yeah... I'm an arsehole. Do I really look like this? I can see why she blew me off the other day. She wanted to run away now. What a slut! I never realised I was so boring. I'm a bit shabby. I'm doing sports.

Krasin looked at his hands meticulously through the boy's eyes. His secret pride. You can't see a damn thing! No fucking muscle. Muscle. Why the fuck do I work out all day?! I'm a fuckin« wimp! How the fuck did she give it to me? I wouldn't have done it if I was her. Where could she have gone? Why am I doing this? »How could she give it to me?«! How could she not give it to me? She did it this way and that way... and I stuck to her like a leaf! Take it out! I had a craving! I mean, I'll take it out now, and you put it in your mouth. »Put it in." In the nearest entrance. So what? What was she supposed to do? She wanted to be young. At least an hour.

But at least now I have no illusions. That she loves me and adores me and all that. All those moans, «Oh, fuck, darling.» It's all clear to the court. Well, maybe it's for the best. No illusions. No jealousy. Sex! Just sex. Pure sex. Naked. Well, let's see what our girl can do now, shall we?!

Saying these words to himself, Krasin involuntarily tried to look at this scene through Irochka's eyes. To enter into her, as into this guy. He did not mean that, saying mentally «let's see», just accidentally said so, thought. But the phrase itself involuntarily told him now what to do.

---

Shift! A momentary mental interruption, a click. And he found himself- Oh, God! A flood of vivid new sensations washed over him. Now he was seeing the whole scene through her eyes too. The boy was still in him, he had not gone anywhere (or he was in the boy, damn it!), but he immediately moved away, shifted somewhere sideways, to the background! To the periphery of perception. Krasin himself was now in Irochka's consciousness. Inside her. He saw everything through her eyes, felt the same things as she did. Probably, he could even control her now, like those... in the corridor... but he didn't do it yet. Didn't even try. Why?

For now he was just sort of looking around in amazement, listening to the young girl's feelings and sensations, trying to make sense of them. He was incredibly, insanely curious!

First of all, he was pleasantly surprised that he looked much more attractive in her eyes than in the guy's. Ah! Well, that's probably just because she's used to me. It's washed out. It's a fresh person who at first gets such a wild impression of me, depressing. I'm some kind of complex freak. But she's already taken a closer look, she just doesn't notice.

And her feelings for me, it turns out, are quite warm after all. Really. Oh, my goodness. As if I'm not even a mate. A friend. Like a close friend.

(As one of his own! ─ He grinned ironically to himself. ─ But friendship is friendship, but legs apart!)

So... Yes!.. Miracles. No hostility.

Just because I brought her into intimacyуDil... Fi...! What high-minded expressions we use! How chaste and bashful we are! Who'd have thought it? (Chastity-wisecracks, Fuck! We still got the Moodys intact. Still in place. For now. But if this keeps going on, if I keep forcing intimacy on other people's wives, pri-muddy... Ugh!) «Forced into intimacy»! «Ah, Count!» How else should I say it? «Forced to give»? That doesn't sound right. «Sucked...» F-fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu! Okay, okay, okay, never mind. Let's not get distracted. What's next? About «intimacy»?

Well, the fact that I'm bending her over, well, she doesn't seem to care. She doesn't even think about it. She doesn't care. She takes it for granted. Well, she did and she did! What's more, the last time, she even liked it herself. Oh, for God's sake! Well, she didn't have an orgasm, of course, she's lying as usual and doesn't blush! ─ but it felt good. She did. Just a little bit, but it was good. Ha! Thanks for that. To be honest, I expected much worse. Much, much worse. I thought she was going to spit on me. Secretly spitting up afterwards. «Ugh! I'm so lousy.»

Krasin felt involuntarily proud. His already benevolent attitude to the girl, which had arisen and strengthened in him in spite of all her innocent pranks and petty deceptions, became even stronger. She was, among other things, to him, frankly speaking, and simply sympathetic. Just as a person. He liked her firmness, her determination. In general, she, in his opinion, behaved decently in this situation. She adapted quickly. Like a chameleon. Well, and rightly so! And the fact that she tried to throw him... Well, any person has the right to defence. Well, she didn't want to suck my cock. What can you do? Not Apollo!

In general, it would be even pleasant for him now to help her somehow, to give her pleasure... To compensate at least partially for the moral damage. From being with him. (He sympathised with her. They became one for a while. One organism. A symbiosis.

What about it? When she fucks now, he's gonna feel it too! How a woman feels during sex. Fucking. When she's being fucked. Krasin felt an incomprehensible, surprising himself, insistent, urgent need to use dirty, coarse words. They excited him. (Strange!... Never before...) Or did they excite her? He no longer understood.

He tried to really tune in, to get into the girl's sexual sensations, trying to realise them, to perceive them, to embrace them in their entirety, trying to separate them from his own. He didn't even know why he was doing it.

A warmth in my lower abdomen, gradually spreading a sweet languor throughout my body.... The swollen, almost painfully sensitive nipples of my breasts ─ I wanted to caress them, to kiss them ─ ... and desire! Desire! Desire! Desire! Acute, unbearable!!!

Krasin himself had never felt such feelings in his life. Not even when he dragged Irochka into the entrance. As he now realised, it was only a faint shadow of a woman's desire.

I can make it even stronger! ─ He suddenly realised. ─ Yes! ─ I really can! I can make her feel a hundred, a thousand times sharper! Stronger! I can make her feel feelings that are impossible in the real world! There's no name for them. Not even an orgasm, but something unimaginable! Super orgasm! Archie!!! Super super orgasm!!! Mega!!! To make her go crazy, to make her burn with passion and unbearable desire!!!! And cumming, cumming, cumming!

Yes, it's all within my power here. And I'm going to experience it all with her now! Yes! Yes! Yes!

---

... Now she wanted to be caressed! caressed! caressed! caressed! caressed! caressed by a man,... by several men,... stroking, kissing her naked body. And then take her! Take her! They entered her roughly, gently... and she was wriggling, screaming with unimaginable pleasure, she was shaking with a continuous shudder of orgasms... and the men were cumming one after another, screaming and shuddering with her in sweet convulsions....! She felt their hot semen everywhere... inside her, on her body, on her face, in her mouth. She swam, dissolved in this ocean of passion, ocean of tenderness, ocean of bliss... And there were other men standing around... many, many men!.. and they all looked at it greedily... masturbated on her... And they all wanted her too, they growled at each other and trembled with excitement, and were ready to do anything for her, for the sake of closeness with her!.. ready to grab each other's throats, to tear each other apart! They were all lust-crazed males, and she was their female. The one and only.

But she wasn't cruel! Oh, no! She loved them all, every last one of them, and she wanted them all to be well ─ this one, that one, and that one, and that one over there... All of them! All of them. Why are you fighting? Don't... Do you want me? Well, come and get it... Take your time... Careful... That's it!... That's it! That's it! That's it! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! That's it! Take me, take me, take me! Does it feel good?.

And women. There were still women there... Oh!.... How they do it! How they do it. How they slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly, slowly undress her, admiring her lingerie, her dress, her body, talking, whispering compliments, stroking her, laughing, admiring her impeccable taste ─ ah!... men don't know anything about that! ─ and take off everything ─ everything!

The dress ─ and she wriggles her whole body as they slowly pull it off over her head,... then her bra,... her panties... ah!..! ─ and kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss her all over, all over, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, even there. ─ oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!... ─ as only women know how to kiss,...caress,...only women alone know how to caress,...caress,...softly,...gently,...tenderly,...without hurrying...─ ─ men, after all, are sometimes so rude! ─ and only one woman can fully, completely understand the other woman... her beloved....

And she is already trembling all over from the growing!!! growing!!! growing!!! completely unbearable desire!!!! which again carries her somewhere!... carries her away... and she floats, floats in its hot, fiery waves!... and a huge shaft, a whole tsunami of unbearable, mad passion gently and carefully picks her up, lifts her up... higher and higher... higher... to the bottomless, clear, dazzling blue sky... and from there, from above, from the transparent etheric abyss, suddenly some alluring, crystal, as if angelic voice sounds. He is calling... calling her... him....

---

- Ole-e-e-eg! Ole-e-eg! Oleg!!!

─ А!.. What?! ─ Krassin shuddered and opened his eyes.

His worried wife leaned over him and shook him insistently by the shoulder.

- Wake up! What's wrong with you?

─ What happened? He sat up on the bed, looking around wildly, still drowsy from sleep. He couldn't realise what was wrong with him or where he was. Irochka,. the. entrance,. the. institute,. the. bustle,. the. auditorium,. the. anticipation... A terrible guess suddenly struck him. He slowly looked at his wife.

- You were sleeping so strangely," she explained soothingly when she saw that he was awake. ─ Not moving, as if dead. I thought something had happened!

─ Damn fool!!!! ─ Krasin roared in rage, clenching his fists painfully. He had never raised a hand against his wife in his life, but now the urge to punch her stupid face with all his might was unbearable. ─ You woke me up!!! I told you not to do that! Don't wake me up tonight! I asked you!?

─ Don't shout like that! You'll wake everyone up, ─ ─ the frightened wife babbled. ─ When I woke up, I saw that your face was gone. You're lying there as white as a dead man.

Krasin sank heavily onto the pillow. What was there to talk to her about? The end! Everything had collapsed. Youth, strength... The desire which he had just experienced together with Irochka, raged in him like a volcano. Vesuvius! He wanted to throw himself against the wall, to bite his hands. He had to do something. He had to do something now. To lie down next to that old woman ─ he looked at his wife with disgust ─ and sleep peacefully was out of the question.

Do it! Do it! Do it! But what? Should I call the magician? What time is it? Twelve. Fucking hell! I was only there for an hour! I was only there for an hour! Because of that dumb-ass motherfucker. Did fate put her there on purpose to mess up my life?!

So, what do we do? Yes! Call the magician, the sorcerer! Maybe he's still awake. There's not much time. And he wanted to follow me on my journey. So he must be awake. Yeah, well, I'll call him, that's all.

Krasin grabbed the receiver. There was no dial tone.

Oh, yeah! I turned it off myself.

He hung up, found an outlet and switched it on. The phone immediately rang deafeningly. Krasin almost jumped from surprise.

- Yes! (Laughs)

Hello, it's me! ─ he heard Ira's sobbing voice in the phone. (How did she get my number? I must have given it to her in the car... I don't remember.) ─ What happened?

My wife woke me up! (His wife looked at him with round eyes. Krasin didn't care.)

─ Do something!!! Do something! I have to go back there! You have to! It's not fair! It's only been an hour! Do you want me to do everything you want me to do here, like I do there?! I'll do anything! Anything! Just help me! Help me! Irochka was choking on her tears.

(Jesus Christ! She's hysterical! Where's the husband? But what «husband» is there! He's full of pears. How could she care about her husband now! I don't feel any better myself. Howl like a wolf! I could bang my head against the wall. And what's it like for her? You can imagine! ТоIt's been a long time. What a nа you!!! To go from being the most beautiful, passionate, desirable, sexy girl in the world to just a worthless old woman! Oh, my God! She's going through withdrawal! Like a junkie. Cumар! And all because of that daft fool! Fucking reptiles.)

Please, Irishka, calm down! ─ Trying to speak firmly and confidently, said Krasin. ─ I'll call this sorcerer now, find out what's going on, and I'll call you right back. Agreed? Wait for my call. All right?

Irochka sobbed convulsively.

Anyway, wait. Stay on the phone.

─ Just you hurry up!

─ All right, ─ said Krasin and hung up.

Now, where do I have his phone number? Shit! It's in the newspaper! And where is this newspaper?!... Krasin drenched himself in cold sweat, afraid that the newspaper could have been thrown out. But no, here it is! Ugh! Well, well, well...

- And who is this Irishka? He heard his wife's suspicious voice.

─ Shut up, ─ he said coldly, dialling a number.

What do you mean, shut up?! Who the hell are these Irishkas you've got now? At 12 o'clock at night.

─ I said: shut up! ─ Krasin raised his voice, paused for a second with the pipe in his hand and looked at his wife with a heavy gaze. ─ We'll talk later. I need to make an urgent phone call now, ─ ─ he finished, continuing to dial the number. His wife fell silent.

- Hello! ─ Krassin almost shouted when he heard that the receiver had been picked up.

─ Hello, Oleg Viktorovich, ─ a familiar calm voice sounded in the receiver.

You know!.

Yes, of course, I'm fully aware of that. Didn't I ask you to?

Yes!... ─ Krasin started and immediately stopped, realising that all these explanations were completely pointless and absolutely useless to anyone. What did it matter why? That's it! The train had gone. What to do now? What now? ─ Frowning, he asked.

─ And now what? ─ The man asked ironically.

─ You know, Ira just called me, ─ Krasin began to tell me confusedly. ─ She was hysterical. She's crying into the phone.

Yes, Irina Nikolaevna is not to be envied now, ─ the man grinned again. I warned you, Oleg Viktorovich. I warned you not to abuse your new talents there. Didn't I? Why did you do all this to her?

─ Yes, but... ─ muttered Krasin. ─ I thought it was better... ─ I thought it was better...

─ For whom? ─ The man was silent for a moment and, without waiting for Krasin's reply, finished as calmly as before. ─ Unfortunately, there is nothing to be done now. A second such journey is impossible.

─ But.

Good night, Oleg Viktorovich. Good night.

There were short beeps in the receiver. Krasin hesitated for a moment and dialled another number.

- Yes!!! ─ he immediately heard Ira's tense voice in the phone. ─ Is that you?! Well, what?! (Oh my God! I haven't had time to say a word yet! ─ thought Krasin, stunned by such a pressure. ─ Yes! It's bad for her there, I can feel it. She seems to have given up on her husband and children. She's gone to pieces.)

- Ir, I got through to him, ─ Krasin held his breath, hesitating to continue. ─ He says there's nothing to be done. It's impossible to travel again. It's a pity that everything turned out this way, ─ he added, not knowing what else to say. There was silence in the receiver. ─ Hello!... Hello... Irish, can you hear me?! ─ Krasin called a little louder.

─ Yes. I hear you, ─ The woman's voice was dead and lifeless.

─ Я...

- I get it. Goodbye.

Krasin again heard the short beeps of the dialling tone. He thoughtfully held the receiver in his hand, then slowly put it down.

---

The next day Krasin was already outside a familiar door early in the morning. «In the house where the bakery is.» The door was opened by a fat, sleepy aunt.

- I'm sorry, I was here yesterday on an ad.... Krasin started.

─ No one else is here! ─ His aunt interrupted him unceremoniously. ─ They've moved out.

When? Krasin asked in astonishment.

This morning, I think. Or maybe yesterday.

I called you last night!

I don't know anything! I just came to clean up. I was told the tenants had moved out and I had to clean the flat.

I'm sorry," Krasin muttered.

The woman replied indifferently and slammed the door shut.

Krasin stood for a while and went home. Near lunchtime he finally decided to call Ira. (She must have woken up by now.)

- Hello! ─ he heard his daughter's voice. (My God! Well, like Irochka of yesterday! A copy! Only her voice sounded strange today.)

May I see Irina Nikolayevna?

Who's asking her?

An acquaintance. I called her on Friday.

─ You know, she...─ the daughter's voice trembled, ─ died....

What do you mean, «died»? ─ The completely shocked Krasin asked again. ─ When?!

Tonight. Sleeping pills. (Mother of God!)

─ I'm sorry. My condolences, ─ Krasin said quietly and hung up.

He sat for a while, staring at himself with a stopped look, then slowly got up, walked to the window, and pressed his forehead against the glass. There was a book lying on the window sill. Saint-Exupéry's The Little Prince. His daughter was probably reading it. He picked it up and opened it.

«We are responsible for all those we have tamed,» the phrase underlined by someone else immediately caught his eye. Krasin threw up his face and bit his lower lip to the blood. Tears were streaming down his face.

But I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to! I didn't know! I'm sorry, Irochka! I'm sorry! I didn't know what I was doing! I didn't know! I only wanted what was best. What was best. The best!

«For whom? ─ Suddenly the mocking question of the cursed sorcerer sounded in his ears as if it were real. ─ For whom!»

---

And Lucifer was asked by His Son:
Where did this woman's soul go after death: to hell or to heaven?

And Lucifer answered his Son:
To hell.

And Lucifer was asked by His Son:
─ Why?

And Lucifer answered his Son:
Because she's not needed in heaven.

And the Son of Lucifer said thoughtfully:
─ I don't think it's fair....