It was a hot Saturday afternoon, everything around was foggy, and the air was like viscous jelly. But, despite the stuffiness, I sat at the bus stop in a slightly elevated mood. I finally managed to pass the exam sample with a passing grade! Even though it was just an electronic version, I was still happy - there was a chance to get into the university I wanted. Saturday's extra classes at school were not in vain, although, I must say, even our mathematics teacher Anzhelika Konstantinovna was almost desperate to drill knowledge at least for a minimum grade into my always disheveled eighteen-year-old head.
Every time I failed another test, she shook her cute blond head reproachfully. And I looked at her guiltily and realized with horror that my gaze was involuntarily falling into the delicious hollow between the teacher's breasts. In hot weather, Anzhelika Konstantinovna was forced to wear open dresses - there was no air conditioning in our educational institution. Lika was only twenty-two, she came to our school right after college and instantly captivated the entire male half of the school. There were rumors that she was dating students, although I didn't believe it. I didn't want to upset the pretty teacher at all, but until today Saturday, for six months I invariably did just that.
But this time I managed to bring a smile to the sweet face of the young teacher. After the end of the lesson, I thanked Anzhelika Konstantinovna and, together with a couple of girls who also went to extra classes, left the office. The girls' names were Masha and Lisa and I knew literally everything about them - who they met, their favorite artists, and even who liked them and who they were. I liked almost all the high school girls at school, I felt like a pervert, monitoring girls' social networks almost every free minute, but I couldn't do anything about it. My unprepossessing appearance and low-grade self-esteem prevented me from not only starting a romantic relationship, but even simply communicating with the opposite sex. I always began to mumble and stutter, even if a classmate simply asked me for a pen.
Due to these circumstances, girls simply did not perceive me as a guy. Sometimes it reached the point of absurdity, when this state of affairs covered me almost with an invisibility cloak and the girls began to discuss their sexual relationships, although I was a couple of meters away from them. I, red as a lobster, listened during breaks to Alina's revelations about her first experience of a blowjob, Diana's stories about her crazy boyfriend who forces the girl to go to school without panties and - the worst thing - Karina's confession about how she spied on her parents in the bedroom. Needless to say that at such moments I even rejoiced to some extent at my invisibility?
But the rest of the time my shyness simply interfered with my life. The situation was further complicated by the presence of an older sister. Ksyusha regularly ridiculed my character and sometimes even called me a cuck. I Googled the meaning of this word - it hardly suited me, but it was still offensive. What was doubly terrible was that Ksyusha was wildly attractive at nineteen years old, and every time I caught myself thinking that even her ridicule excited me. And if we remember that Ksenia did not have the habit of burdening herself with extra clothes at home, especially in the May heat, then being in the same apartment with her sister turned into, albeit very exciting, but still torture.
And now, remembering Ksyusha, I became a little depressed. Having habitually glanced at the bare knees of Masha and Lisa, I once again became embarrassed and stared at the wall. Over the years, I began to provide a justification for my embarrassment; it seemed to me that if I found a reason, it would become easier.
Having become fascinated by the SJW ideology, I realized that, albeit with a stretch, my embarrassment can be explained by my reluctance to invade, even if only verbally, the personal space of my interlocutors. I despised myself for the glances that I involuntarily cast at the tits, asses and legs around me - after all, this was nothing more than sexual objectification, in other words, mental rape. As summer approached, it was already difficult to just look around and not get caught up in the deliciously swaying girlish flesh. It seemed that exciting bulges were literally everywhere. I hated myself for it, but I couldn't help it.
And now - when the girls, having said goodbye, walked out of the school together - I enjoyed their cute figures and long slender legs. As I walked, my miniskirts kept revealing so much that my heart almost jumped out of my chest. Breathing heavily, I found the strength to look in the other direction. But there was also a gaggle of girls there - they were chatting pleasantly, occasionally giggling. My fevered mind even imagined that they were casting glances at me. Feeling that I was blushing, I hurried to the stop.
My bus usually arrived within a few minutes, so I sat down on a bench and started surfing social media. With my peripheral vision, I caught a couple of girls who, like me, were waiting for transport. Thank the gods that none of them sat on the bench - the sight of a skirt that rides up at the moment of landing could have unsettled me for a long time. The bus approached and opened its doors welcomingly. I immediately slipped onto the back deck and stared out the wide rear window, trying not to look at those two. But there was another girl, very close. She turned to face me and a magical picture appeared before my eyes - the girl was wearing a shirt tied in a knot under her tits. They swayed amazingly, slightly pressed down from below by a simple double knot. The stranger did not have a bodice - and what kind of bodice is there when the heat literally makes the sweat roll like hail?
I froze in an unnatural position, turning my head almost perpendicular to my body. I should have turned completely in that direction, but I tried to convince myself that this was just a fleeting glimpse. Yeah, fleeting - my eyes managed to stop looking at the incredible cleavage of my breasts, but instead of focusing on the handrails or doors of the vehicle, they began to wander lower - a delightful toned tummy, mini-shorts, perfect legs shot me with portions of goosebumps. No longer hiding, I turned all the way towards the stranger and stared insatiably, holding my breath. She's about to feel my gaze... And then what? Confused? Angry? Will he ignore it?
And then it happened. The girl shuddered and raised her pretty face. She looked straight at me. I froze in horror, waiting for her reaction. And then suddenly... the stranger smiled. Smiled! To me?! I didn't believe what I was seeing. Her smile made her even prettier, although it would seem - much more so? Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the girl suddenly stood up and headed towards the exit. We need to talk to her! But how? How to do it?! But she smiled herself! What if it's not for me? What if someone was behind me?
I looked back. Behind there was a handrail and a blank trolleybus wall. So, definitely for me! He's leaving! Already left. Beside myself with fear and excitement, I rushed after her, stumbling and falling. I barely made it through the closed door. He jumped out, but didn't lose sight of him. So what now? Speak? Say "girl, were you smiling at me?" Is there a more idiotic phrase to start dating?
This was the City Beach stop. It takes almost half a city to get home. Maybe, since this is the case, we should also lie on the sand? Yes, but I didn't take anything beach with me - no swimming trunks, no bedding, no towel. How to be? Meanwhile, the stranger went down the stairs and marched towards the locker rooms. I was numb, looking for somewhere to sit down and calmly watch the girl. She came out of the locker room in an orange open swimsuit that emphasized her wonderful figure. Sitting down on a conveniently located bench, I took out my phone with trembling hands. Having caught the beauty in the lens, I zoomed in to maximum and began filming the girl from different angles, sometimes moving the phone towards the sea so as not to get too caught. While she was laying out the mat and settling down on it, I caught several shots of her delicious ass and round, firm breasts. But the girl's face worried me no less - her forehead, nose, lips and cheeks also made me tremble with excitement.
How I sometimes wished that in our world having sex was as simple as asking "what time is it" from a stranger on the street. Although sometimes, I've always wanted this for the last few years, ever since I started masturbating. However, I wouldn't even dare ask this girl such an innocent question. She was so amazing that she literally drove me crazy. I wish I could find out the address of her page on social networks! Not expecting any particular success, I uploaded the girl's photos to applications for searching people by face. Imagine my surprise when the search worked and it gave me the page addresses. Not believing my luck, I clicked on the first link. It was her! In a swimsuit and a T-shirt, at home in front of the mirror, against the background of the embankment - a variety of photos. Nothing vulgar, but how nice it was for me! I immediately added her pages to "Favorites" and enthusiastically continued to look at the girl calmly sunbathing on the sand, who, by the way, judging by social networks, was called Tanechka.
Tatyana, as if on purpose, also untied her swimsuit, lying on her tummy, so that there was an even tan on her back. Now her large breasts lay freely in the cups of the swimsuit, pressed down from above by their owner and were hidden only by the bedding. It even seemed to me that I saw papillae. This picture stimulated my imagination even more - I again began to think about a world where sex is commonplace and the norm. Recently I came across an interesting video on Pobedinsky's YouTube channel about parallel universes. It said that if the number of universes is truly infinite, then absolutely any version of the world is possible. And it's not even just possible, but definitely exists somewhere. Does this mean that the world of ordinary sex also exists somewhere?
But how to get there? I started to think. From other videos on YouTube, I learned that there is an anomaly in the Universe associated with the masses of galaxies - observations show that they are much heavier than the visible matter in them. Especially to explain this, scientists include dark matter in the equations - some invisible substance that does not manifest itself in any way and has no properties other than mass. A rather funny crutch, to me, resembles the ether that scientists of the late nineteenth century raved about in attempts to explain the strange properties of light. As a result, it turned out that there is no ether, and light has a dual nature, and even the properties of light depend on whether someone is watching it at the moment or not! Well, maybe not exactly, but I got the point right, it seems to me.
What if the same principle applies to this dark matter? What if, upon direct observation, the substance ceases to be dark and, so to speak, appears? Could it be that the additional mass of galaxies that is attributed to "dark matter" is precisely those same parallel universes, among which there is the very world dear to my heart? But how to manifest it?
Meanwhile, Tanechka got up from her mat and, having agreed with a neighboring family, apparently about taking care of things, headed to the sea to swim. I looked with pleasure at her slender figure, round ass and graceful legs. The girl was no less beautiful from behind than from the front. Eh, I wish I could go up to her and talk... But alas, my shyness will never allow me to do this. All that remains is to dream about a parallel world somewhere out there, in the wilds of dark matter... I closed my eyes blissfully, imagining the possibilities that would open up if I got there...
Gradually, I closed my eyes more and more, as if trying to jump out of this world, leave my mortal body and dissolve in the darkness. And finally I closed my eyelids with all my might, so much so that colored spots floated. With an effort of will, I tried to imagine dark matter. Naturally, nothing happened, but a chill suddenly ran down my spine. And then I got a cramp. I seemed to be frozen, there was nothing around except darkness flickering with multi-colored lights. All sounds, smells and sensations disappeared. Even the bench under the back has disappeared somewhere. I wasn't breathing, but I didn't feel the need to either. It was impossible to say how long this lasted; time seemed to stand still.
