New voice recorder

The end of March is not just the bright onset of spring, nor is it just the cat weddings on rooftops with the heart-rending wails of cats suffering from spermotoxemia. It is the awakening in the souls of students, after a difficult and tedious winter exam session, of a yearning for light, for new sexual exploits, new passions within tight-knit student groups. The teaching staff, mired in debauchery, gossip, and licentiousness, also yearn for warmth, for the light of the sun and the light of beautiful female students, who have once again donned their daring super-minis at the first signs of warm days.

And all the senior students, already such super-machos, have a clear division in their collective, which has passed through the fire of exams and the joy

of grades, into hunters and voyeurs, or simply observers. Although my friend Viktor somewhat crudely called them "sufferers for female charms."

These guys, who don't receive attention from the female half of our close-knit and, to a certain degree, boozy collective of students, sometimes had to devote more attention to masturbation and dreams. And such a passion for masturbation or worship of "Dunka Kulakova," as Viktor again crudely jokes, is such in its essence that without dreams and a fetish, it clearly won't work. So they, the modest "observers and sufferers," require a supply of new impressions. I'll tell you about one such case, especially since I was indirectly involved.

A warm, sunny morning in mid-March, spring had finally taken its rightful place, wresting it from the Winter Queen, who had retreated to the distant North. Nature is awakening or has already awoken, buds are swelling on the trees, birds with their loud chirping are practically hammering on the heads of those male and female students who had just finished boisterously celebrating March 8th for the third round. Sunbeams dart in the newly sprouted tender green grass, like hedgehogs in the fog, shimmering in dewdrops with all the colors of the rainbow.

And I, squinting from the glare of the sun's rays, which act strictly according to the laws of physics that "the angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection," are brazenly firing shots from the "Aurora" into my eyes. I'm also squinting from the wails of Tolik Shevchenko, who is passionately and persistently demonstrating his brand-new tape recorder to me.

The thing is, he, as an ardent voyeur, simply adores peeping, and if it's dark, then eavesdropping. And after "that," he listens to the recordings a hundred times, as some dialogues wildly excite him. And here's what he recorded, having slipped his tape recorder on a long pole up to the dark door of the balcony of our young, very seductive and clearly unmarried graduate student, to whom some man had come:

There was a mysterious darkness in the room, and the sensitive tape of the recorder was capturing some rustles, light moans, the creaking of either a chair or a bed, though again it seemed like a chair, groans and sighs.

— "Sashenka, darling, come on, faster, I'm counting on you so much, I'm all worn out with waiting, I just have no patience left!" — the pleasant voice of the graduate student was heard. "Come on," — she said again, with a breathy tone, — "I'm all in anticipation..."

— "Just a moment, Anastasia Ruslanovna. Be patient just a little longer, everything will be fine. I've done this so many times..."

— "Oh, careful! Look, don't miss, it's dangerous! I'm worried!"

— "Oh, come on! You finally got it in! I can't wait any longer!"

— "Just a moment! I'm almost there! In a moment, you'll only have to rejoice! As they say — receive and sign for it!"

— "I'm counting on you so much. I got so scared right away, but when I called and you came — I calmed down immediately, I'm just all in anticipation, please forgive me! I just got this room and then..."

— "It just won't go in! What's the matter! I'm trying so hard!" — at these words, Tolik squirmed and began stroking his crotch. I can imagine what he was fantasizing about.

— "Sasha, darling, you're already a final-year student. You can do this well! And we can even continue our communication over a glass of wine! This matter definitely needs to be 'washed down'!"

— "Op-pa, got it! Exactly got it! It feels so good now! Now I'll make you happy too!"

— "Hooray, darling! I wasn't wrong to count on you! I feel that moment approaching!"

— "All done, I've finished! Everything's excellent! Now just the little cap and total bliss!"

— "What bliss, how sweet you are! Let me kiss you!" — the sound of joyful smacks on both cheeks of the man.

Tolik turned off the tape recorder and looked at me in surprise. Homeric laughter overcame me and with great difficulty, gasping with laughter, I managed to ask him:

— "Tolyan, you thought there was wild sex going on and you were passionately masturbating under the blanket. That was me changing the fuses and light bulbs for our graduate student in her room, and her fiancé was holding the old, barely alive stepladder and was groaning and moaning from the strain because he was afraid I'd fall, and right on him at that. And Ruslana was encouraging me and her fiancé. And when I screwed in the new socket and the light came on, she started passionately kissing us on the cheeks out of joy."

So that's the unusual story. Voyeurs and peeping toms think a little differently than we, modest senior students, but already experienced "walkers" and revelers. I don't know about Tolik, but I found it funny.