Gopnitsa

Sergey woke up surprisingly refreshed, which was strange since he had gone to bed at 2:35 AM and not entirely sober. His forty-third birthday was no different from any other weekday. It was Friday, but he didn't have to go to work, as he had taken a day off in lieu of overtime. For breakfast, scrambled eggs and coffee; for the fifth day in a row, he planned to make syrniki, but never got around to it—his daughter had loved them so much. There was no one to make them for now; how long had it been since he'd seen her? His wife had turned their daughter against him, and now she even spoke to him on the phone in short phrases. Life had been painted in shades of gray. Sergey peeked into the refrigerator, realized it was time to restock,

got dressed, took his card, and left the apartment. Taking the elevator down from the eighth floor and passing through the short stairwell passage, he saw someone's silhouette in the corner near the pipes. The light bulb at the entrance had been out for a week, so it was hard to make out clearly. As he passed the silhouette, he managed to discern the outline of a teenager standing with their back to him, as if they had been punished and put in the corner.

"What, you taking a leak there or something?" Sergey asked, stopping.

"No," came a quiet voice that didn't sound very masculine.

Sergey was taken aback. The silhouette turned around, and the man realized how mistaken he had been. From under a black hood, the eyes of a very young girl looked back at him. Her clothes were certainly not feminine, though who knows how young people dress these days. She wore an oversized black hooded jacket, wide gray jeans, and sneakers.

"You're not a guy, sorry. What are you doing here?"

"Warming up... I'm cold."

"Hmm... why don't you go home?"

"It's far."

"What do you mean? You're not from this building?"

"No."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"I came to see a friend. She and her parents left, didn't warn me."

"I see," Sergey shuffled his feet. "Are you... really cold?"

The teenage girl silently nodded.

"Don't get the wrong idea... if you want, I can give you some tea, you'll warm up and go home. By the way, where are you from?"

"From the region... no, thank you..."

"I understand, sorry..." The man left the entrance and headed towards the store.

He returned about forty minutes later, and upon entering the entrance, he saw the girl again.

"You'll get sick like that. Let me bring you some tea?"

"I really need to use the bathroom..."

"Well, come use mine, if you're not afraid."

The girl silently turned and followed the man.

"Come in," Sergey invited, opening the front door. "The bathroom door is on the right."

The girl took off her sneakers and scurried to the bathroom. "Her socks are so thin, and the sneakers are almost summer-like," he thought. By the time the teenager came out of the bathroom, the man had already taken off his coat and put on slippers.

"So, have you changed your mind about tea, or maybe you're hungry?"

"I'm really hungry..."

"Hmm... what should I feed you? Dumplings? Or scrambled eggs?"

"Dumplings, please!"

"Okay, I'll put the water on. Are your feet cold?"

"Uh-huh."

"You'll get sick like that. Let me at least give you some warm slippers."

Sergey thoughtfully brought warm slippers, put water on for the dumplings, and waited for it to boil. The girl sat silently on a chair, hugging her knees to her chest and staring at the floor.

"What's your name, anyway?"

"Anya."

"I'm Sergey... Igorevich, or just Sergey, without the patronymic."

Anna showed no emotion. Yeah, young people, so talkative. The water boiled, Sergey threw in a bay leaf, peppercorns, and salt.

"How many do you want?"

"What?"

"I'm saying, how many dumplings should I put in for you?"

"Ahhh, I don't know, let's say fifteen."

While the dumplings cooked, no one said a word. The girl was not talkative, and Sergey didn't know what to talk about with a young teenage girl. She looked about 18, and the man felt uncomfortable.

"Sorry, but I have to ask, how old are you? Because... well... a minor in a stranger's house."

"I'm eighteen."

"Really? You look quite young."

"I'm small, didn't grow much, that's why I look like this."

"Got it. Are you warmed up?"

"Don't you want to call home? Isn't your mom or dad worried?"

"My phone is dead."

"Let's charge it."

Anya handed over an old touchscreen phone.

"Oh damn, I don't have that kind of connector. Let me go look."

"Okay."

Sergey was sure he didn't have that adapter, but he used the situation to be alone; he felt somewhat uncomfortable with Anna.

"Well, I don't have one, unfortunately. Want to call from mine?"

"I don't remember the number by heart."

"Damn, she's not worried at all, but what if her parents are worried they can't reach her?" Sergey made tea for the girl, got out raspberry jam and honey, found a box of Merci chocolates. Time dragged on very slowly; he gave her a tablet and went to another room himself, wondering why the girl wasn't in a hurry to go home. They sat in different rooms for about three hours. Finally, the man couldn't stand it and asked:

"Anya, you said you live in the region, when is your bus?"

"The last one is at 4:50 PM."

"Well, it's already 4:20 PM, you won't make it to the bus station. Why aren't you keeping track of time? Let me quickly call a taxi."

"Okay..."

Sergey called all the taxi services, but a car would only be available in about 15 minutes, and it would take another 15 to get to the station. What a clueless girl.

"No, we won't make it. How could you do this?"

"I'm sorry."

The man went into another room. What to do now, where to put her? He couldn't just kick her out onto the street again.

"Sorry, can I go take a bath?" She entered the room so unexpectedly that Sergey flinched.

"Huh? Yes, of course, go ahead."

The girl disappeared behind the door, and the man remembered that only his towel was in the bathroom. He quickly went to the bedroom, got a clean towel, and opened the bathroom door. At that moment, Anna was already taking off her top, and Sergey saw her bare lower back.

"Oh, damn, sorry, I thought you weren't... yet... anyway, here's a clean towel."

"Thank you," the girl didn't even turn to him.

"Take whatever you need, shampoo or shower gel, though I only have men's."

"Uh-huh."

Sergey couldn't settle down. What to do with her? Let her stay the night? What if she really is a minor, or some kind of thief, though there wasn't much to take from him anyway. "Why did I even talk to her?" he thought. An hour later, the girl came out, wearing her previous clothes, only her hair was wet.

"Thank you, Sergey... sorry for causing you inconvenience."

"It's okay, no problem. What should we do with you? Can't go home now? You've put me in an awkward position."

"I'm sorry."

"If you have nowhere to go, stay the night, and take the bus first thing in the morning. I'm sure your parents will be worried."

"Okay, thank you."

Sergey prepared a simple dinner. They ate. They turned on some movie. They sat at opposite ends of the sofa. Around eight in the evening, a friend called Sergey, offering to have some beer, but the man tactfully declined.

"Why are you alone?" Anya suddenly asked.

"Yeah, it just happened. We lived together, but things didn't work out."

"Do you have children?"

"Yes, a daughter, Ira, twelve years old. We don't talk much; my wife turned her against me."

"Did you mess up?"

"No, I wouldn't say so, nothing that serious. Routine consumed us. We stopped noticing each other, lived our own lives. And then... we decided to divorce. And my daughter thinks her dad abandoned her."

The girl looked at him without any emotion. A couple more hours passed, and the girl started yawning.

"Anya, want to sleep?"

"Yes."

"Let me pull out the sofa here, okay?"

"Okay."

"I have a disposable toothbrush; I'll put it on the shelf near the sink. Use any toothpaste; there's one whitening, one regular."

Sergey got out clean bedding, pulled out the sofa, took a shower himself, brushed his teeth, and got lost in his phone in the bedroom. He didn't feel like sleeping. Judging by the sounds, the girl also did her hygiene routine and turned off the light in the living room. An hour passed; the man put his phone on charge, peeked into the hallway: it was quiet and dark. Folding his clothes on the nightstand, Sergey froze for a moment in thought. He usually slept completely naked, but this time he decided to keep his underwear on. "But why? She won't come into the room, ah screw it," he took off his underwear and got under the blanket.

The alarm chirped at ten in the morning. Sergey reached for his phone and, without opening his eyes, turned it off. He turned to the other side and bumped his shoulder into something soft. A pillow? No, soft and warm. The man opened his eyes and jerked back as if scalded. Lying next to him in bed, with her back to him, was Anya. She clearly wasn't asleep, having heard the alarm and felt him jerk sharply, as if stung by a hornet.

"Anya, how did you end up here?"

The girl slowly turned to him, opening her sleepy eyes slightly.

"Sorry, I was cold and kept hearing strange sounds."

"When did you come? I didn't even feel it."

"It was 3:30 AM; I checked the time on your phone."

It only now dawned on Sergey that she had switched to the informal "you." But what embarrassed him most was that he was completely naked and experiencing a morning erection. And she might have touched him or pressed against his body during the night. A cold shiver ran down Sergey's back. What was he afraid of? If the girl was of age, there was nothing to worry about. But still, there was a 25-year age difference, and the fact of her being of age remained unconfirmed.

"Anya, I'm kind of not exactly dressed here?"

"Me neither," the girl said quietly, almost inaudibly.

"What????"

"Anya... I... you... why did you..."

She silently moved closer to him and, slipping her hand under the blanket, grasped the hot shaft of his penis. Sergey squealed like a young piglet. A wave of sweet pleasure rolled through his entire body. His eyes rolled back, and the penis in the young girl's hand twitched, regaining its lost firmness. She pressed even closer to him, so that the head of his penis felt the pleasant hairs of her pubic mound. His heart was ready to jump out of his chest, but the girl remained as calm as before. The man hadn't had sex in about four months; he jerked off a couple of times a week, lying in the bathtub and imagining himself with a coworker or his ex-wife. Due to the long separation, she had become very desirable. Anya caressed his penis and scrotum with her palm, and Sergey was afraid to reach for her body. "This can't be real," he thought. "This feels more like a dream. Why would this young girl want me!"

"Take me!" Anna whispered, looking straight into his eyes.

Sergey, with a trembling hand, touched her shoulder—such smooth, even skin—ran his palm down her back, lingered at her waist, and cupped her breast. The girl let out a barely audible squeak. He was intoxicated by the firmness and youth of her body; losing control, he threw the blanket aside and knelt between the girl's legs. He looked down and saw her damp pussy, ran his hand over it, brought it to his face, and inhaled her unforgettable scent. Sergey took her legs under the knees, spread them even wider apart, and guided the head into her womb. The girl jerked, moaned, and arched her back; the head nudged against her labia and pushed inside. Anya licked her dry lips. Sergey looked at the girl; he was still worried that she looked very young. He sincerely hoped she hadn't lied to him. His penis moved tightly inside her vagina. The arousal was very strong; the man was afraid of coming too early and paused. But the girl writhed under him like a snake. Her eyes were closed. She moaned loudly and scratched his back with her nails.

"I want to be on top!" Anna suddenly said loudly.

Sergey lay on his back, and she deftly jumped on him and inserted the penis herself. The man wrapped his arms around her thin waist. He struggled to hold back from coming, tried to think of something detached, but it didn't help. Anya continued to ride, leaning back and bracing her hands on her partner's knees. Had he ever felt this good before? Probably only during the honeymoon period with his wife. Sergey felt an imminent orgasm, abruptly sat up, pushed the girl onto her back, and immediately, pulling out his penis, ejaculated onto her flat, youthful stomach. The girl stretched her arms above her head and smiled sweetly. It was her first smile since they met. Sergey was in some kind of unreal ecstasy. An incredibly strong and long orgasm. He tried to thank the girl, to please her with his tongue, but she stopped him, got out of bed, took her panties, and went to the bathroom. Sergey fell onto his back and sighed with pleasure.

The man