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Dilapidated, she slowly sank into the sea, like a warship, bulging stones – shelling.
Here among these “logging” was my hidden place.
Of course, besides me there were a lot of people there, but I believed that this gap between the remnants of two boulders is my place.

To which I had a legal right, as the autochthon of this coastal part of land.
I float to my place slowly, pushing in front of me a small camera on which my clothes fit, wrapped in cellophane bread with sausage, Pamir cigarettes, and also fruit.
A pair of apples, which are so eager, having escaped from the raft, to go to free swimming.
There are not so many people on the beach, he collapsed, unable to withstand the pressure of the sun, and on a narrow strip along the railway, there are also single figures.
To me, the sun is not a hindrance.
I love him, and it pays me the same.
I hang out on the spot, admiring the view of the shore from the sea, feeling how my body cools.
Then, in one motion, I pull off my panties, lay them on top of the raft, and dive, feeling the freedom of the naked body.
Having emerged from the depths, snorting like a walrus, I am catching up with a raft and I am already confidently leading it into the “Bay of Carelessness” – the name I invented to my place after reading a novel in a battered book.
The text amused me with the letters “yat”, a syllable of presentation, lack of difficulty and incompleteness due to the absence of pages in the book.

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In general, I read everything that came to my hands then.
Especially pre-revolutionary books.
They attracted me with their singularity, style of presentation, yes, in general, they were from “that world”.
About which my old grandmothers, grandfathers told me a lot of interesting things, unwittingly pushing in the search for the truth, the answer to the question for which some people had trouble, “how was it really?”
The boulders gladly greeted me, and in a friendly way they tried to attach their greenish walls with several sharp blows of the waves, but knowing their character, I slipped past, leaving my old friends with nothing.
Relaxed, not paying attention to the world around me, I rounded the edge of the boulder, pulled the raft on a boulder, straightened up, feeling every cell of my body, and then collapsed back into the water.
In my tanned place sat a woman, covered with a towel.
Standing before a woman naked then, for me, it was perhaps a great test.
In the shower, after the section, with the same boys, naked, you could fool around, knock, fight with towels, and so on.
But in front of a woman?! – What are you doing here? – The first question I had was this.
Having emerged from under the water, I had to restrain myself with my hands and feet, clinging to a rusty rod.
The boulders happily turned me around with water, trying to wash me into the open sea without panties, the key to the apartment, and the rest of my wealth, laid on a raft.
– And you? – She pressed the towel to the body.
ABOUT! Is she naked? Two lumps, implying the top and bottom of a bathing suit, lay side by side.
– This is my spot.
– The statement was natural for

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me – the autochton of these boulders.
– Here I bathe in the summer.
– Naked? – She was clearly not one of the timid. Porn web camera girl.

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