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It is difficult to love them, they are looking for their own kind and happily coexist with each other, not noticing around themselves almost nothing, except for themselves and their cellophane.
The girl, decorated with the Shchors banner, can only guess, but should not, cannot know about all the intricacies of the manifestation of her own female physiology, otherwise she risks appearing in the eyes of her friends as something of a Martian monster.
Velvet is exactly the way he looked at his long-time girlfriend, revealing previously unseen pseudopods, tentacles and claws.

Fortunately, Ariana was too excited to notice the wild look of Velvet.
He himself soon realized his mistake – after all, who knows what pseudopods, why bother the aliens ?! Pretending as if he remembered something, he rushed into the kitchen, dug harder taps and, rejoicing that Ariana did not see how well he imitated the geometric painting he had learned from the browning man from the alley, cooed out: – Arish, you You know how I feel about you.
I would be glad.
But not today.
I have something to think about.
Maybe tomorrow.
Deep silence of the silence was his answer.
The girl slowly and steadily, as a duellist, went up to the refrigerator, opened it, put the empty glass on the shelf in a neat way, wheezed: “Asta Manyana” and left.
Velvet thought it would not hurt her to hold.
But then he decided that in such a state Ariana, usually able to cope with two drunkards, would bury at least a dozen hooligans under the asphalt. The ballet began.
The huge chandelier of the day and of the outside noisy stupid life went out.
In the purple twilight, the fake gilding of the finishes was lost to no incompatible thoughts and phrases and attitudes.
The grandiose performance began.
Velvet was sitting in a box, trembling with anticipation of delight.

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On the stage, only for him alone, for a single fan and spectator, two great actors began the great pantomime of life.
Everything happened slowly, in a certain rhythm once and for all.
The lights were dimmed, the curtains were moving apart.
The viewer never asked a silly question, for what, in fact, the curtain is opening.
Ordinary people, on the contrary, always pulled the curtains tightly in order to prevent any possibility of intrusion of prying eyes into their private performance: they were afraid that he, their performance, was able to cause only yawning and irritation to be bland, dull and incompetent.
But the ballet, which contemplated Velvet, had nothing to do with the boredom of everyday family intercourse.
For this ballet it was very important that the stars lit up the stars, so that the universe could without any extra effort accept, dissolve and scatter drops of love moisture of dancers on the Milky Way, so that those eyes that tried to catch every shudder of the actors’ muscles, did not envelop the tears of tension that disturbed the responsible the process of contemplation.
So, the curtains were moving apart, and with the wrong, but always frank light of a night lamp with colorful fish rotating inside it, they began to undress each other.
The first action.
Picture the first.
Of course, the first act was more a ritual than an improvisation, but Velvet could swear that there was never a complete repetition.
There was always something new, unexpected, even a trifle – some new movement of his hand penetrating her panties (not behind, for example, as always, but from the front), even if the insignificant carnivorous and lascivious movement of her lips with a defiantly protruding tip between them the tongue, when, after a decisive pulling down of the trousers, the miraculous appearance of its royal member took place.
Velvet did not have a program at hand that explained and commented on the action, a program containing the names of the performers.
But he didn’t need to understand the meaning of what was happening: as a true

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esthete, he enjoyed amazing pleasure from the possibility of sensual penetration into the very heart of the fairy tale reigning on the stage.
He didn’t need real names of performers: he had long since, from the first performance, the knowledge of their names appeared to him in a bright flash of a sexual discharge: in a fit of extraordinary, never again happened to him during the contemplation of the ballet, orgasm, he realized that their names may sound different than Forest Witch and Orpheus. Busty beautiful models.

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