About the book: year / - how beautiful you are! — I exhale, touching my pink ear with my lips. The hand is already greedily grasping the thigh and sliding to the top under the thin fabric. Her cold skin burns her palm. “Denis Sergeevich,” the voice trembles and stutters. I run the tip of my nose from ear to shoulder, barely touching my neck. I stroke the thin shoulder, pick up the strap and pull it, exposing it.