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Nastya felt unnecessary.
She went out on the bolcon and lit a cigarette.
She stood for a few minutes.
The cigarette has already decayed and slightly burned fingers.
Nastya scrolled through her head, why Olga is not enough for Nastya.

Why she is looking for a man again and again.
Is it a real and hard member or something else? She could not answer this question.
But she admitted that Olga loves her and when Nastya on a business trip calls her every day to share thoughts or impressions.
He wants to know how Nastya lives.
Is not this a sign of love.
Then what more do you want? Live and rejoice, you fool! And the baby.
You can adopt a child or give birth from a donor.
Olga will not give birth.
But she herself can still.
Climax has not come.
We need to think about it together with Olenka.
Feet already began to freeze.
And to stand naked on a balcony, though it is not decent behind darkened windows.
Nastya returned to the bedroom.
Mila and Christie slept, hugging each other.

Christie put her foot on Mila’s thigh and her little wrinkled bone lay quietly on Mila’s thigh.
Nastya smiled and did not wake the girls.
She closed the door and went into the other bedroom.
The dream came over quickly.
Affected by fatigue for tonight.
The end of the third part.
To be continued.
The fifth-grader Sasha lived in a significant and industrial city on the one-story Zhemchuzhnikov street.
The brick house, covered with slate, in which their family lived at the intersection, with one window went out onto the founder Kozma Prutkov’s street, and the other two – onto the same one-story Pyatigorskaya street.
Sasha’s father’s name was Vasily Fedotovich, he drove the Kamaz; and her mother, Nina Afanasyevna, worked as a “Little Red Riding Hood” in the kindergarten.
In the summer, when the kindergarten was closed, the mother took care of the vegetables in her own garden and managed to sell the cabbage, potatoes, parsley, and apples until the autumn.

Sasha grew up obedient and quiet, he was pretty, with long chestnut curls; the mother was happy with Sasha’s household help and was happy to take her son with her to the market.
When buyers approached Nina Afansyevna and looked at large potato tubers, Sasha gazed at the adults from behind the counter, not blinking at all with his wide emerald eyes with long fluffy eyelashes.
– What a little son you have! Straight from the flowerbed !.
Hang a couple of kilos or something.
– And now, now.
Sasha is my assistant, – the mother was proud of her son and handed him a filled bag.
Sasha, blushing, carried the bag to the buyer and waited for him to count the coins for his mother.
Mother asked, by the way, in which area the buyer lives, and if she heard in response the names of the surrounding streets, she sent Sasha to bring the purchase to the gate.
Sasha liked to walk around unfamiliar streets; at the end of the way he was usually invited into the house, summoning the household to admire a beautiful and gentle boy, and gave him gifts.

Seeing Sasha sucking cock on a stick, Nina Afanasyevna’s comrades in the workshop tried to treat her modest little son too.
Georgian Givi handed him a churchkhela, an Uzbek woman, Nazir, poured a dried apricot, Kostya from Siberia stuffed his pockets with pine nuts.
On August 31, in the twelfth five-year plan, Nina Afanasyevna decided to finish the work earlier.
Sasha was sad that the curly green summer was running away from the upcoming long boring lessons.
There were few buyers; the boy gnawed on his sad seeds.
The draft brought fresh and cool air to their row.
“Either start right after this old woman is going to go home,” Nina Afanasyevna mused, greeting her grandmother who appeared out of the ground in a dark scarf and a black sleeveless jacket.
Her back was slightly bent, her face was dark and wrinkled, and she picked over the cabbage on the counter with gnarled fingers.
– Fuck is all kind; there used to be tomatoes under the old power! – the grandmother in a low voice swore, and all the wool itself was bunches of parsley, neatly tied with thread.

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