18. Smolenskaya, you don’t mean what you do

October 18, 2006

Progress! They were sitting together in history. Officially they were a couple. Smolenskaya liked being together in public, kissing in cafes and during breaks, holding hands, hugging, hanging out in his room, teasing, driving him to the limit, and stopping not a moment too soon. Bitch.

That Wednesday Gena was skiving off, and Milana was no longer friends with Kamila. Volkova was with Leyla in the front row, and Milana chose a window seat at the back of the class.

They had to read a text and prepare for a discussion. History of Russia never interested Arkadiy. History of Great Britain simply killed him. Milana, however, was pouring over the textbook with a pencil in her hand and admirable concentration in her eyes.

What to do? Yes, Smolenskaya, it’s paytime.

‘Milana,’ he began.

‘Shush, wait, I need to finish,’ she said dismissively. Perfect.

People around them were absorbed by history, and their desk allowed the privacy Arkadiy needed. He put his hand on her knee. Awesome. No tights. Love the school unifrom and the heat in the classroom. Milana gave a start.

‘Read,’ he said calmly, sliding his hand under her skirt.

The plan is simple, the goal is clear, and there’s plenty of time. Act slowly, but forcefully. Study your sensibility, Smolenskaya. In public, just as you like.

Milana looked at him indignantly.

Revenge is best served cold, but I’m not vindictive. Let’s make it hotter.

‘Stop it,’ she whispered, shutting her eyes and biting her lower lip.

Yes, Smolenskaya, you don’t mean what you say.

She moved closer to him. Naturally, he didn’t stop, and continued, watching her. Milana was biting her lip, trying to maintain the appropriate look of concentration.

Like this? Or faster?

As though she heard him, she nodded, and threw back her head.

Eyes closed, no sound, baby, and don’t hurt your lip.

Suddenly there came a loud crack. The pencil in Milana’s hand broke into two. So fast.

Several people looked curiously at them.

Arkadiy grinned, ‘So much passion. Fucking awesome!’

‘You… idiot!’ Milana said quietly, moving aside.

Quickened breath, exstatic gaze, rosy blush. Can you wait until May, Miss Proper?

‘Miss Smolenskaya, are you ready?’ asked the teacher.

‘Fuck,’ she whispered.

That’s right, baby. Fuck.
©Smolenskaya.Moscow All rights reserved. If you want to use any part of the book, please, contact the authors.


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Contents. Part 1