In ten minutes.
- Hop! Horizontal twine! Hop! The cord is vertical! - I shouted on the floor, changing the exercises. Music rattled all over the apartment, the girls on TV were doing the same thing as me. I mean, I repeated after them.
- And now the bridge! - the coach exclaimed. There will be a bridge, miss!
- Hop! Bridge from the floor! Hop! The bridge is standing! - I supported myself with a scream. And when I stood on the bridge, raising one foot up, I saw Artem smiling at the front door, who seemed to have been standing there for a long time and watching.
- How long have you been standing there? - I asked with a sad voice, still standing in the bridge with my foot upstairs.
- I think it was the scream of "Hop! Swallow! - I blushed like hell. The swallow was at the beginning, even before the twine. - By the way, this pose is one of the most interesting of all that you did. But the twine is definitely a leader. And the question is, what is my jacket doing on you?
When I fell off the bridge, I covered my groin with shame. I had to get dressed first before doing gymnastics!
- Why did you keep quiet and watch? You can't peek! - as my dick got up from the thought that Artyom had seen me in such positions. How do I get up now? You can't even hide anywhere! To get into the bathroom, you'll have to get up and walk past Artem, and he'll definitely see me and call me a pervert.
- Is there a problem, Steph? - he suddenly took a step towards me.
- No! Stay there!
- Why not? - smiling cunningly, he came closer step by step.
- Because! - howled when he sat down in front of me.
- Well, what is it here? - He took my hands off, holding them firmly, without letting go. - Did someone get excited just by one look?
- Stop mocking me," he whined, trying to get away. He pushed me back and I fell on my back. He grabbed my hands by himself, lifting them over my head.
- Who's mocking me here?
- Let go, please," I whispered, trying not to look at him.
- Do you want me to help you? - I was shocked to turn my head. Is he serious?
- What? What?
- Ask, Stefan.
- I do," he stroked my dick through my underwear, squeezing it slightly at the base.
- What do you want? - just teasing, driving his hand slowly up and down. I was burning with desire to meet his hand.
- I want to come, please.
His face was so close and I kissed him with my head slightly raised. I touched his lips and they got untied, letting me go on. I whined with pleasure when he answered the kiss.
He ripped my trunks off, finally touching my flesh directly.
- I can't take it anymore, Artyom! - He's pushing my head and I'm coming out, disconnecting myself from the fun.
It felt like I was made out of soufflés: airy, soft. I was lying on the bed again, and Artem was sitting next to me smoking.
- Alive?
- Halfway," he pulled up and took the sitting position.
- Get dressed, I'll take you home.
- Okay," nodded and got out of bed. If I was upset, I didn't show it. You can't push Artem, I'll have to tell him what I am and what I am with somehow. I think if he isn't warned about my heat in time, then it will be too late. And I need Artem to be healthy, not with a nervous ticking.
- I'm ready, - as I came to him in a T-shirt, I allowed myself to pull his jacket. I stood, naively clapping my eyes, as if it wasn't me who put it on at all and I'm going to drag it away.
- Let's go, little one.
I smile and follow him, holding my elbow. Definitely the best day of my life.
…
- Aghhtem! Come on, Ahtem! - I knocked on the door, - it's eleven in the morning, open it!
- There is no Achtyom! - yelling at me outside the door.
- Artyom, I brought food," I decided to bribe him.
- What did I bring?
- I cooked the meat myself," he proudly said, looking at the bag. If only he knew how hard it was for me. I burned two pieces, one with blood on it when I cut my finger. As a result, of the five pieces of good meat, only two were cooked normally. I don't know what it tastes like, I didn't get a chance to taste it.
The door clicked, and Artyom appeared to me.
- Hello, - I exhale and happily hold out the meat.
- He's stubborn - Artyom goes to the kitchen, I'm after him. This is the third day I come here. He either skips couples and sits with me watching the race, or I sit here alone, learning to cook and clean up trash. Artyom slowly gets used to my constant presence, even stopped pulling away when it gets lonely and I'm hugging. I'm on the right track to win Artem Ristalov.
- How was it?
He cut off a piece of meat and chewed it. He doesn't seem to be crunching anything in his mouth - a good sign.
- What did you season him with?
- With blood!
Artyom choked, coughed and only his upbringing prevented him from spitting the meat back on his plate.
- Whose?
- Mine! - and I showed him my fingers in bandages. Artyom made something green, then pale, but swallowed the meat. I stroked him over the head, which he put on his hands, stuck in the table.
- I washed away the blood, the meat in salt, and the pepper. Honestly.
- Look, drop it. You are a bad copy of the Holy One, and cooking is not yours. Look at your hands, but you are maiming.
It stabbed you in the chest. A copy... Bad.