July 11, 1993
Sunday
5:20 PM
I walked into the grand entrance with a firm stride. Went up to the third floor, pressed the doorbell, heard from behind the door:
— Who is it?
Oh! Who was I, exactly?
The door cracked open and the entry chain jingled:
— Oh, Romochka! Come in!
Vera threw the door wide open, waved a hand, inviting me in:
— Sorry, haven’t tidied up yet.
I’d expected anything except a warm welcome. Slipped sideways into the apartment, made a move to take off my shoes, but was stopped: «Don’t bother! The floor’s not washed.»
Sighed, trudged after Vera into the kitchen. Right off, she offered me a chair, set out a bottle of Martini Bianco, two faceted glasses, a plate of apples, ordered «Pour,» left the kitchen… came back, sat down on the chair across from me, looked at me with her blue eyes:
— Well?
What could I say? How could I explain myself?
Put on a look of concentration: busy opening the bottle, wasn’t working, wouldn’t budge, damn thing.
There! Unscrewed the cap, poured to the brim, croaked out, «Congratulations on the new place!» and knocked back half of it in one gulp. Vera shrugged, sipped a quarter of hers in small sips, giggled:
— Why so quiet?
— Oh, nothing… — I didn’t know what to say, what to warn her about, how to cut through the knot of questions nobody needed and nobody cared about.
What did I have to say to a girl sitting across from me, sipping her Martini, studying me like some little animal that had wandered in toward the light? Nothing smart, just some outlandish stupidity:
— How’s life? Seen Zhorik lately?
Verochka shrugged, either meaning life was so-so, or that she had no idea who Zhorik was.
— Everything’s fine.
I nodded, topped off my glass and Verochka’s. Couldn’t sit still, so I kept grabbing the bottle. Made it look like I was busy with something important.
It’s a good thing, having something to do.
Even better when there’s plenty to do and it’s all running smooth, nothing worrying, nothing frightening. Good, when events line up with what’s called «normal.» My normal used to be playing cards in the dorm and sleeping for money every third night, doing my duty as a night watchman. Oh! I’d been kicked out of that job! Time for a drink…
Took a gulp of vermouth, crunched an apple, relaxed.
Remembered that in exchange I’d gotten a General Director’s position. Pockets stuffed with cash. Life was turning out wonderfully, even if it didn’t look anything like normal. And Vera’s was turning out even better!
— To the apartment, — I proposed a toast and drained my glass.
— Sure, — Vera took a small sip.
— Great place. What about the car?
— Haven’t seen it? Come on, I’ll show you, — Vera grabbed my hand and dragged me into the far room. There she stood by the window, peering down and off to the side, still gripping my hand.
— See it there, the little blue one.
I pressed my forehead to the glass, looked down, and saw a blue Volkswagen Golf. Lucky Verochka.
Alcohol started making its way through the back alleys of my mind, buzzing and buzzing harder, charging me with euphoria, promising that things would turn out well for me too. My hand slid onto Verochka’s waist. Verochka pressed against me. I pulled away from the glass, turned around, and put my arms around her. She kept her hand clamped around mine. I pressed my lips to hers. We started kissing wildly, tearing each other’s clothes off. Ten seconds later, naked, drunk, elated, we ended up on the bed, which happened, very conveniently, to be right there. I plunged headlong into love and finished within a couple of minutes. Worked up and annoyed, Verochka banished me to the bathroom.
I didn’t linger long over the water treatments. Stood under a cool shower, graded my own performance unsatisfactory, but with a chance at a retake. My erection came back heroically at attention.
Soaped up, rinsed off, came out, handed over the bathroom post to Verochka.
A couple of minutes later we resumed the frantic sex. This time it lasted a long while. Ten minutes for sure, maybe even half an hour.
Don’t know. Wasn’t keeping track of time.
Pounded my body against Verochka’s, lost my mind, lost and regained my breath… soared to the peak of bliss and tumbled back down, receiving the order «shower, forward march!»
After the shower I went into the kitchen, let my eyes slide over the half-empty bottle, drifted into thought. Didn’t feel like drinking. But dreaming a little, now that…
About what?
Went back to the bedroom, dropped onto the bed, propped a whole array of pillows under my sides and shoulders, thought it over. Verochka was small, skinny, and, generally speaking, not the girl of my dreams, more like a schoolboy’s…
And there she was. We had sex a third time, running start to finish entirely by her direction, according to her wishes, varied and educational.
Up until that day, my sex life had better fit the description «student rutting.» Verochka broadened my horizons. Turned out you could also do it like this, and like this, and like this. And cunnilingus turned out not to be so terrifying after all.
