Golden сarriage for Cinderella. A novel about love

The forest with sparse trees was more like a forest belt, a frozen lake peeked through the trunks and the thickening twilight. A well-trodden path passed through the trees and led us to it. There were houses near the lake, these were cottages.

– Here we are.

Peter approached a large house, which consisted of two floors and was made entirely of timber.

“It’s beautiful here,” I said, looking around.

Currant and raspberry bushes grew around the house. The yard was well maintained and clearly divided by paths that led to the bathhouse, gazebo and somewhere else. A Chevrolet Aveo, already familiar to me, was parked next to the house.

– Tell me, who is Artyom?

– The son of my old acquaintance from Ukraine, who now lives in Moscow. A good, smart guy, he is studying at the institute to become a dentist.

Peter took out a huge bunch of keys from his slate-colored leather purse. The door was massive and closed with several locks. Turning over the keys one by one, Peter remembered which keys the hostess of the dacha showed him to open this huge door. After a while, the door creaked open. And we immediately found ourselves in a small corridor. The interior was chosen for the country style and was very well suited to the atmosphere of a house made of natural material.

There was an old gramophone in the center of the hall, the case itself did not look shabby, but the handle for the spring factory was all rusted. Peter went up to him and began to sort out the mechanism of the player. And I wanted to go around the whole house and look around. The hall on the ground floor was most likely intended for receiving guests, festive events, and there were also two sports simulators. At the end of the hall was a staircase leading to the second floor. The steps were far apart from each other, and I had to lift my leg high to move it to a step higher. The second floor had a more cozy atmosphere, it was divided into two rooms. One room was a bedroom with a wide bed, a wardrobe, and on the opposite wall there was a dressing table with a mirror decorated with decorative red roses.

In the other room there was a wood-burning fireplace built into the wall, decorated with ceramic tiles, and two rocking chairs. There was a glass coffee table between the chairs, and on it was a large vase with decorative fruits. The silence of the house was broken by an ancient melody, which is now playing on the ground floor.

– Vladochka, I seem to have coped with a difficult task and launched the old technique.

– I’m coming to you.

Peter was waiting for me next to the stairs, he held out his hand to me so that I was safely at the bottom. Then he hugged me and we danced.

– One-two-three, one-two-three,” we repeated, making waltzing movements to the music.

“This New Year’s Eve is the longest in my life,” I said in a happy voice.

– After all, it’s good, we are together, and we are happy, – Peter smiled in response, and his gaze pierced me so that I trembled, and butterflies tickled my lower abdomen.

After a while we ran out of strength and went upstairs.

Near the bed, Peter hugged me and began to kiss me.

“How I’ve missed you all this time,” he whispered, continuing to kiss, rising from the shin and higher, exposing me more and more.

He lifted the dress, covering my naked tummy with kisses. Unbuttoning the bra, he eagerly clung to my excited nipple, continuously caressing it. I let out soft moans, and my womb filled with moisture. He abruptly pulled off my panties and entered me. After making a few movements, he lay down contentedly next to me and fell asleep.

Time is running inexorably fast, and the hands on the clock are counting down the minutes of our lives. Minutes form an hour, which turns into a day, days go into years. Years turn into eternal life in the universe. And sometimes you just want to stop time.

When we woke up, it was already dark outside the window.

– Hi, sonya, – said Peter in a warm voice. – it’s probably about six in the evening.

– We’re not in a hurry today, are we? I asked, stretching while lying on the bed.

– Of course, we can live here for a month, but I can only be with you for three days. And then I will have to go to Chernigov and be at the service in the temple.

“It’s a pity that it won’t be so long,” I said and sighed sadly.

– And now it will be for a very long time, – said Peter and began to kiss my excited nipples, and his hand began to walk between my legs.

“You’re my most desirable man,” I said, putting my arms around his neck.

When we enjoyed each other enough, we immediately wanted to eat.

– Vladochka, I bought sausages, meat, potatoes and bread. We can make a grill out of them,” Peter said happily.

– Let’s light up the fireplace, – I said, throwing on a light translucent robe on the go, yesterday I still managed to leave some of my things in the bag.

Peter went to the fireplace, took the firewood that was lying next to him, and threw them into the furnace. The fire began to flare up more and more, and the yellow-red flames began their all-consuming dance.

– Now I’ll bring a bag of food, – said Peter and went to the stairs.

I remained sitting by the fireplace and looking at the fire. The wood crackled as it burned, the fire darted across the tree like a red monster that left nothing alive in its path.

– Have you been waiting, honey? And one funny thought has just come to my mind, because it turns out that we haven’t eaten at all this year,” Peter said and laughed out loud.

“We should be very hungry right now,” I smiled back.

I cut the sausages and bread into large pieces and put them on skewers. Peter put chairs next to the fireplace, and we sat comfortably in them, picked up a skewer and began to fry from different sides. The sausage slowly browned and exuded a fragrant smell.

– I wonder whose house it is? I asked.

– One woman, she is my spiritual child, I pray for her soul every day, and in gratitude she allowed me to live in it for free.

– Do you have many such spiritual children, Father?

– A lot, Vladochka, it’s easier for me with women, but men also have spiritual children. Here, for example, the car I’m driving now was given to me by a cool and famous bandit Prince.

– A bandit? I didn’t think they had any kind of relationship with the clergy.

– Of course there is! But how? I confess my sins to him, and for this he thanks me with gifts and money. I have a lot of rich women in spiritual children who have their own business. There are owners of a cheese factory, a tannery and a food fragrance factory.

– Very interesting. Tell me about your wife.

“Not now,” he said.

“I need to know everything, tell me,” I already insisted.

“Okay, we’ll talk, but only after dinner, otherwise your appetite will disappear,” Peter replied and laughed.

Grilled sausages and fried bread were a success. The fried bread was crispy, and the sausages were juicy and smelled of smoke.

“After a delicious dinner, we can talk,” Peter said in a satisfied voice, looking at the dying embers in the fireplace and turning over baked potatoes with a stick.

– Where is your wife now?