A third year student with a pogonyal Belyash caught up with his laughing classmate Lera at the locker room, grabbed his waist and dragged him back:
- Come on, bitch, don't rock the hook ... right now, I’ll tell everyone what a rat you are ...
Lera, still laughing loudly, clung to the locker room lattice:
- Sentry! Raped!
Her piercingly sonorous voice rang along the empty corridor of the school.
- Let's go, - Belyash hissed, tearing Lera's hands off the grill, - I'll call the Schön Seeds, you'll know how to rat!
Lera was tall, ugly and skinny, and Belyash was small, pimply and puny, so it was a struggle of almost equal opponents. Lera continued to laugh:
- Ka-ra-ul, they kill!
Her sweater ripped up, exposing her flat, bare belly:
- Ok, White, good, they were joking and that's enough, I didn’t take your marker ...
- Do not dig, muzzle rat ...
There was a heel sound on the tile behind.
- Belyakov! - rang along the corridor.
Belyash stopped.
- What's going on here? - Anna Mikhailovna quickly approached, pulled him back from Lera. - What's going on here?! I ask you, Belyakov!
Lera stood up straight, straightened the painted sweater and jeans rolling down on her bony ass:
- Belyakov again pestered me, Anna Mikhailovna.
Anna Mikhailovna sighed, took Belyakova by the shoulder:
- Gerasimenko, go to class. Belyakov, come with me ...
- Well, An Michalna ...
- Go-go! Gerasimenko, tell me not to make noise in the office. I will come to you soon.
Lera ran away.
- Come on, Belyakov. You, I see, quite insolent. Yesterday, Tikhonov bathed in a snowdrift, today Gerasimenko you carry on the floor ...
- An Michalna, I will not be more ...
- Go, go. Do not rest. Yesterday Tikhonov cried in the staff room! And, by the way, why didn't you come to me yesterday after class? Why? I told you to.
- Well, I went, Ahn Michaln, and you were not.
- Did not have? You're still lying very brazenly. Well done, Belyakov.
Anna Mikhailovna went to her office, opened the door:
- Come in, Belyakov, do not be shy.
Belyakov slowly entered.
Anna Mikhaylovna threw her keys on the table, sat down, nodded to Belyakov:
- Go here.
He slowly wandered over to the table and stood opposite.
Anna Mikhaylovna took off her glasses, rubbed the bridge of her nose, sighed, and looked at him wearily:
- What should I do with you, Belyakov?
- I will not, Anna Mikhailovna, honestly ...
- Yes, these honest words are yours, how many times I have already heard them ... - grinning, she got up, walked over to the window, and chilly led her plump shoulders. - What did you do yesterday with Tikhonova?
Belyakov hesitated:
- Well, I ... I am ...
- What's easy? Just offended the girl? So simple - took and offended!
- Yes, I did not want ... we just played snowballs, and she hit me in the face ...
“And for that, you had to put snow on her neck and boots?”
- Well ... it happened ...
“Is that why you pulled her skirt up?”
- Yes, I did not bully ... just ...
Anna Mikhailovna approached him:
- Bullied, Belyakov, still like a bully. But why? What for?
- I do not know...
- But the goal, what was the goal? What, did you want to see what was under it?
- Well no...
- Well, why did you bully?
- I do not know...
- Just wanted to see what's under the skirt? Well honestly! BUT?!
- Yes...
Anna Mikhaylovna laughed:
- What are you stupid ... What's under your pants?
- Well, cowards ...
- The girls - also cowards. Tights, and then cowards. Do not you know that girls also wear underwear under pantyhose or jeans?
- I know ... I knew ...
- You're lying, Belyakov, you're lying! - she leaned toward him. - Is it really so hard to tell the truth? You are not interested in cowards and not a skirt! And the fact that under the shorts!
Belyakov lowered his head even lower.
Anna Mikhailovna slightly shook him by the shoulders:
- That's what it means, you are really interested!
- No ... no ... - muttered Belyakov.
“And this is not a shame, this is not, Belyakov.” This is just, naturally ... It's a shame that you can't tell me the truth! That's what a shame! After all, Seryozha to call you?
- Yes.
“I hope you aren't lying here, brazen liar and liar!”
- Yes, I can not lie ... I can ...
- No you can not!
- Can...
“Then tell me yourself.”
Anna Mikhaylovna sat down at the table, propped up her chin with her hand.
Belyakov sniffed, scratched his cheek:
- Well, I...
- Without well!
- Well ... I was interested in ... what was there under the tights ... under the skirts ... under the shorts ... in the girls ... just so interested ...
Anna Mikhailovna shook her head knowingly.
- How old are you, Belyakov?
- Eighteen.
- Eighteen ... Adult is already a man. Do you have a sister?
- Not.
- A girlfriend?
- Not.
- And not kissing girls?
- Not.
Anna Mikhaylovna turned a pen in her hands:
- No ... Listen! And last week you fought with Tanya Dudnik! You also wanted to see what was under her underwear ?!
- No, no ... it's me ... it was a completely different thing ...
- Well, look into my eyes. Now at least do not lie.
Belyakov lowered his head again.
- You're lying. Again. After all, I also wanted to see. True? BUT?
He nodded.
Anna Mikhaylovna smiled:
- Belyakov, just do not think that I am laughing at you, mocking me, or going to punish you for this. It is a completely different matter. You are eighteen years old. The most curious age. I want to know everything, to see everything. I remember, I, too, was once eighteen years old. Or do you think that a head teacher was born a head teacher? Was, was a girl. But I had a brother, Dmitry. Yes, and now there is. Older brother. And when it came time, he showed me everything. What is the difference between a boy and a girl? And I showed him everything. Here it is. So simple. And no one needed the skirt to bully. And grew up normal people. He is a civil aviation pilot, I am a head teacher at a vocational school, both are family, with children, and he is already with a grandson. Like this.
Belyakov looked at her frowningly.
Anna Mikhailovna continued to smile:
- As you can see, everything is very simple. Really simple?
- Well, yes ... sort of ...
- Well, do you have any relative of your age?
- Not. I have my own brother ... younger ... and two cousins ... but no sisters ...
- Well, do you have a friend, a real friend? A friend in the best sense, a real friend? Who can you entrust all the most intimate?
- No ... Ludka ... no ...
Anna Mihailovna put her pencil aside, scratched her temple:
“You are a pitiful generation.” Neither sisters, nor girlfriends ... Then they make stupid things ...
After a moment of silence, she got up, walked to the door, locked it with two turns of the key. Then, quickly passing by Belyakov, I closed the curtains on the window:
- Remember, Belyakov, cut yourself on your nose: never try to find out something dishonestly. This knowledge will only ruin you. Go here.
Belyakov turned to her.
She walked away from the window, lifted her brown skirt and, holding her chin, began to lower the pantyhose through which red panties shone through.
Belyakov put his head in his shoulders and backed away.
Anna Mikhailovna pulled off her pantyhose, put both palms in her panties, and helping her back, lowered them to her knees.
Belyakov turned away.
- Stop! Stop it, you fool! - holding her skirt, she grabbed his hand, turned to her. - Do not dare to turn away! For you, I try, noodle! Look
She spread her full knees, pulled Belyakov's hand:
- Look! To speak! Belyakov!
Belyakov looked and turned away again.
- Look! Look Look
She moved toward him, legs splayed.
Belyakov's lips twisted, he whimpered.
- Look! You wanted to see! Here ... here ... look ...
She raised her skirt higher.
Belyakov cried, buried his face in his sleeve.
- Well, what are you crying ..
Belyakov. Stop it! Shut up now. Well, what are you scared? Shut up ... yes shut up you ...
She pulled him to the chairs along the wall.
- Sit down. Sit down and calm down.
Belyakov sank into a chair and wept, holding his face with his hands.
Anna Mikhailovna quickly lowered her skirt and sat down next:
- Well, what's wrong with you, Belyakov? What's the matter? Seryozha?
She hugged his shoulders.
- Enough. Do you hear? Well, what are you - a girl? First-grader?
Belyakov continued to cry.
- Shame on you! Well, enough, finally. You yourself wanted this. Well, shut up! So bloom! Shut up!
She shook him.
Belyakov sobbed and was silent, cringing.
- Well ... dry your tears ... how can you cry like that ... oh, you ... noodle ...
Sobbing, Belyakov rubbed his sleeves.
Anna Mikhailovna stroked his head, whispered:
- Well, what are you? What are you scared? BUT? Answer it. Come on answer! BUT? Answer it.
- I do not know...
- What do you think, I will tell everyone? Stupid. I specially shuttered the window. I promise you, honestly. I will not tell anyone. Do you understand? No one. Do you believe me? Do you believe?
- I believe ...
- What then got scared?
- I do not know...
- And now you are afraid? Are you afraid?
I'm not afraid ... - Belyakov sobbed.
Anna Mikhaylovna whispered in his ear:
- Well, honest party, I will not tell anyone! Honest party! After all, I stayed in the party, not like some! You know what it is - an honest party?
- Well ... I know ...
- Do you believe me? BUT? Speak Do you believe? I'm trying for you, stupid. Then thank you. Believe, talk?
- Well ... I believe ...
- Not well, I believe! And I believe, Anna Mikhailovna.
- I believe, Anna Mikhailovna.
- You will not cry more?
- I will not.
- promise?
- I promise.
- You were a pioneer, right?
- was.
- Give an honest pioneer that you will not cry and you will not tell anyone!
- Honest pioneer.
- What, honest pioneer?
- I will not cry and I will not tell anyone ...
- Here you go. You probably thought I was laughing at you ... thought, talk? Thought? After all, I thought, idiot, eh? - she laughed softly, rocking him by the shoulders.
- A little ... - muttered Belyakov and smiled.
- Stupid you, Belyakov. Didn't any girls really show this place to you?
- Nah ... not one ...
- And you have not asked once in a good way? Look?
- Nope ...
- Would you like to see? Honestly say - would you like?
Belyakov shrugged.
- I do not know...
- Do not lie! We are talking about cleanliness! I would like to? In a pioneer! Fair! I would like to?!
- Well ... wanted ...
She slowly lifted her skirt, spread her plump legs:
specifically for sexytal.com
- Then look ... look, do not turn away ...
Belyakov looked frowningly.
She straightened tights and underpants slipping on her boots, spread her knees wider:
- Look. Bend over and watch ...
Sniffing, Belyakov leaned over.
- Well, see?
- I see ...
- What do you see?
- Well ... hair ...
- And what is first scared? BUT?
- I do not know ... An Michalna ... maybe not necessary ...
- Aren `t you ashamed! What did you just talk about? Look better!
Belyakov silently watched.
- Do you see well? She leaned toward him. - And then I'll get up like this ...
She stood in front of him.
Belyakov looked at her groin thickly covered with black hair. Over him hung a smooth belly with a large navel in the middle. On the stomach, a trace of gum clearly appeared.
- If you want, you can touch ... touch, if you want ... do not be afraid ...
Anna Mikhailovna took his hand, still wet from tears, put it on the pubis:
- Touch it yourself ... well ... touch it ...
Belyakov touched the shaggy hillock.
- After all, there is nothing terrible, right? - smiled reddened Anna Mikhailovna. - Not? BUT? No, I ask you?
Her head swayed, her lip tinged nervously.
- Not.
- Then touch it again.
Belyakov raised his hand and touched it again.
- Well, touch it again. Way down. Touch down. Do not be afraid...
She spread her trembling legs wider.
Belyakov touched her swollen labia.
- Touch more ... more ... that you are afraid ... you are not a girl ... a pioneer after all ...
Belyakov drove his palm across her sweaty genitals.
- You can touch it from behind ... even closer there ... look ...
She turned her back on him, raised her skirt higher.
Touch it from behind ... well, touch ...
Belyakov stuck his hand between the plump buttocks and again stumbled upon wet labia.
- Well ... touch ... touch more ... now touch again in front ...
Belyakov touched the front.
- Now again from behind ... like this ... touch it harder ... bolder that you are afraid ... there is a hole ... find it with your finger ... no, not the one below ... here. Push there ... here ...
Belyakov stuck his finger into the slippery vagina.
- Here. Found ... see ... hole ... - Anna Mikhailovna whispered, sticking out her ass harder and looking at the ceiling. - No ... stay still there ... here ... add another finger ... another one ... yeah ... stand up ... that you are sitting.
Belyakov got up without taking out his fingers.
- With one hand behind you feel, and the other in front ... like this ...
He began to touch with both hands.
- Like this. And do you want me to touch you? Do you want
- I do not know ... maybe not necessary ...
- And I know what you want ... I only touch ... you touch me ... I also wonder ...
She groped for his fly, unzipped and rummaged through her hand:
- Here ... here ... see ... you have a small one ... but firm ... here ... then you already ... touch it again, do not be afraid ... here ... and you can enter them into the hole ... now ... and now it’s too early ... why did you remove your hand ... still touch ... ah ... ooohhh ... no ... don't take it out ... no. .. no ... yes ... in me ... ufff ... yeah ...
The bell rang.
- Well, enough ... - she stood up sharply, quickly pulled up her pants with tights, straightened her skirt. - Enough ... well, you will not tell anyone? Right?
- No, I will not say ...
- Honest pioneer?
- Honest pioneer.
- After all, this is our secret, right?
- Yeah.
- And the guys can not tell?
- I will not say.
- And brother?
- And brother.
- And mom?
- And mom.
- Swear. Raise your hand and say - honest pioneer.
Belyakov raised a sticky hand over his forehead:
- Honest pioneer.
Anna Mikhaylovna turned to the colored portrait of Stalin smiling above her in a white tunic and addressed her solemnly:
- Honest Party ...
The bell rang again.
- Is that for a break or a lesson? - Muttered the head teacher, touching his burning flaming cheek.
- For a change ... - prompted Belyakov.
Anna Mikhailovna went to the window, pulled the curtains back, then turned to Belyakov:
- I'm not very red?
- Well no...
- Not? Well, run, then. And try not to be a hooligan anymore. And then call again.
She began to unlock the door:
- Run ... wait! Button up your fly.
Turning away, he buttoned his pants.
- Do you have that right now?
- Biology ...
- At three hundred and fourth?
- Yes, up there ...
- So go.
She flung open the door.
Belyakov stepped over the threshold and ran away.
Anna Mikhaylovna smiled absently.