The consequences of spending the night in the forest on the cold ground made themselves felt by the second day. First, Svetka got a pain in her lower abdomen, and she walked around bent over in pain for a day and a half, and by the end of the third day, her temperature spiked, and (oh, horror!) her panties were bloody! Her mother immediately called an ambulance, and the paramedic who arrived, after a cursory examination, spouted some nonsense full of medical terms. Only one thing was clear—Svetka had a serious inflammation and would have to be hospitalized for treatment. In her eighteen years, she had never had to stay in such places, but this didn't upset the cheerful young girl too much. She was only worried

that now, during the warm summer days, she wouldn't be able to walk the streets of her hometown with Max—the coolest guy on earth! And most importantly—she wouldn't be able to have sex with him, which she had come to love so much, anytime soon!

The hospital she was placed in was colloquially called the "women's hospital." In the four-bed ward on the first floor of the building, besides her, there was only one woman, slightly over forty, who introduced herself as Nelly Sergeyevna. The neighbor turned out to be talkative, good-natured, and Svetka found it very easy to talk to her. She didn't even notice how the day flew by. And in the evening, just before bedtime, someone knocked on the window. Nelly Sergeyevna quickly jumped up, ran to the window, and drew the curtain. "He's taken to coming here every day, the damned pervert!" she complained, "He stands under the window and jerks off!" "Who?" Svetka was surprised. "Some guy! Young, it seems, but completely sick in the head!" explained Nelly Sergeyevna, "One word: a masturbator! Well, there's no point even talking about such people. You'd better tell me, Svetochka, do you have a boyfriend?" "Yes, of course I do!" Svetka answered her, and described in great detail how she met Max a year ago, how wonderful he is, and how much she loves him. She also told her about how they went on a group hike, slept in the forest by the campfire, where she apparently caught a chill in her ovaries. And so they talked until late at night.

The next day, Saturday, Nelly Sergeyevna got permission from the doctor on duty to go home for the weekend, until Monday. Svetka also ran to ask for permission, but the doctor didn't even want to hear about it: "First, you have injections three times a day, and second, girl, you were brought here with bleeding, or have you forgotten about that?" Svetka was deflated. The prospect of hanging around in an empty hospital ward for two weekend days didn't appeal to her at all. And on top of that, Max hadn't answered her calls for the second day: sometimes he just didn't pick up, sometimes he was unavailable. Before lunch, Svetka couldn't sit still, she wandered around the ward, walked back and forth along the long corridor, and even smoked in the toilet, having begged a cigarette from some fat woman who was smoking there, even though she herself had quit over a year ago. Finally, Max called himself. He said he was very busy: his brother's car broke down, and they were fixing it, so he couldn't come today at all, maybe only closer to evening. Although the news wasn't comforting, Svetka was still happy to hear from him. Well, so what if he can't visit, things happen, the main thing is he remembers her and loves her! That's what he said on the phone.

Until evening, she lay on the bed and read a book left for her by her neighbor. And after lights out was announced, there was a knock on the window. "Max!" thought Svetka. Of course, it was him—he fixed his brother's car and came to visit his baby! But, looking out the window, she froze: it was a completely unfamiliar guy who was smiling at her. But what was most astonishing was that he, without the slightest embarrassment, was jerking off his cock! "This is that pervert—the masturbator Nelly Sergeyevna was talking about yesterday," flashed through the girl's mind, "I need to close the curtain immediately!" And she was about to do it, but... Svetka couldn't tear her eyes away from the excited member of this strange guy. Huge, much bigger than Max's, and, how to put it better, more beautiful, perhaps. The thick shaft of the organ looked very strong, muscular and defined, and along it, from the scrotum all the way to the head, like rivers on a school contour map, swollen veins full of blood meandered. The red head of this wonder-organ was unnaturally large and irregularly shaped, which, in general, only made it more attractive. The whole appearance of the penis simply radiated some incredible sexual power and energy! Svetka tore her gaze away from it with difficulty and shifted it to the owner of this treasure. A normal-looking guy—not ugly, not a weakling, even dressed quite well. Jeans with a wide-open fly, a white stretch t-shirt with an interesting gothic design, expensive and fashionable sneakers this summer—all this indicated that the guy wasn't a loser and apparently lived comfortably. And he himself was worthy of attention: perhaps a bit shorter than Max, but just as broad-shouldered, and under the tight t-shirt, trained muscles bulged. He looked about twenty-five, that is, about five years older than her beloved Max. His interesting, bleached bangs hanging over his eyes and an earring in his left ear were striking. Suddenly, Svetka's vision began to darken, and only then did she realize she wasn't breathing! That's how engrossed she was in this sight, she even forgot to breathe! Taking a noisy breath, she again shifted her gaze to the guy's protruding tool: he continued to jerk it off, sliding the foreskin over the head, carefully holding it with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. At that same moment, from somewhere near her throat, an icy wave of arousal rolled down Svetka's body. There it was, washing over both of the girl's juicy breasts, causing her nipples, like late berries touched by the first night frost, to harden to a glassy firmness. Descending lower, the wave swept like a light breeze over her beautiful, slightly convex belly, then over her pubic area covered with reddish down, and finally, merging into a tight energetic lump, like a billiard ball into a pocket, flew into the tender folds of her young vagina. The girl's perineum flared up with fire, and, to somehow quell this sexual fire, Svetka's hand, against her will, dove under her robe, slipped like a snake under the elastic of her panties, and began to frantically massage the heated flesh. The arousal grew, her fingers rubbed the swollen clitoris harder and harder, dove into the softened, juice-flowing vagina, bringing closer the desired feeling of sexual relief. And then Svetka saw that the movements of the guy's hand became more abrupt, he was jerking off not with two fingers anymore, but with his whole palm, firmly gripping the shaft of his organ, from whose crimson head, at that same moment, large, heavy drops of cloudy fluid spurted toward the window. At the sight of such a fantastic picture, a powerful orgasm also struck Svetka, she convulsively rose on her tiptoes, rolled her eyes back, and, losing her balance, fell onto the windowsill, scattering her beautiful chestnut hair across it. Catching her breath, Svetka reluctantly raised her head and looked out the window. The guy was standing in the same spot, and his face showed genuine astonishment: presumably, he perfectly understood what Svetka had been doing while watching his masturbation. The girl felt ashamed, and she immediately closed the curtain. But before the heavy fabric cut her off from the outside world, she still managed to cast a fleeting glance at the coveted object—the masturbator's mighty tool had gone limp, its head drooping toward the ground, but it hadn't lost much in size.

Svetka flopped onto the bed, buried her face in the pillow, and lay there, unable to even move, probably for more than half an hour. She heard the guy knocking on the glass for a long time, scratching quietly, but she didn't want to see him anymore. She was tormented by a strange feeling of guilt, as if she had just cheated on her beloved Max with this guy.

That night, Svetka couldn't fall asleep for a long time. Vivid visions flashed before her eyes—sometimes of Max, sometimes of the huge penis of the pervert outside the window, sometimes some other nonsense. What if this strange young man starts harassing her, pestering her? Who knows what's on the minds of such people? But no,

he's not dangerous for her! He can't get into the hospital, and there, on the other side of the window, Svetka has a bodyguard. She immediately remembered how last autumn she and Max were getting off the bus, and she accidentally elbowed a large, drunk man waiting to board. Svetka apologized, but the brute shoved her hard in the chest and growled: "Cow!" Before she could even take offense, she saw Max, with a short, powerful jerk, turn the man to face him and immediately unleash a hail of powerful blows on his head! On the fourth or fifth blow, the lout, absurdly throwing up his hands, collapsed to the ground, knocking over a heavy trash can at the bus stop. His already unpleasant face, right before her eyes, began to change shape, swelling and spreading in different directions, and dark streams of blood ran from his nose and lips, which resembled two fat red caterpillars. No, Max wouldn't let anyone hurt her! One word from her, and he'd take anyone apart! Thoughts of her beloved awakened pleasant memories in her. She imagined his strong embrace, the touch of his hands, and the taste of his sweet kiss. In the end, from all this, she became very aroused and had to satisfy herself. And at the most interesting moment, when her body and mind began to be consumed by orgasm, a vision of a thick cock with a knobby red head flashed before her eyes. What an obsession that was!

The next morning, right after breakfast, Svetka started calling Max. But his phone was again either turned off or out of network coverage. Lost in thought, she approached the window. What's this here on the glass? In the corner of the window, a cell phone number was neatly written in black marker in small print! So that's what the guy was scratching at yesterday! What an idiot! What is he hoping for?

Sunday in the hospital dragged on. In the empty ward, Svetka felt like she was in a solitary prison cell. She finally managed to reach her beloved. Max professed his love for her, wished her a speedy recovery, but again refused her request to come visit, citing some urgent matters. "My bunny," Max said in parting, "don't worry, you know there's no one more precious to me than you, I think about you constantly. But believe me, I really can't come today! Tomorrow, after work, I'll definitely rush to you!" These words calmed Svetka, and she again immersed herself in reading the book.

Evening was approaching. Svetka began to get a little nervous: would the masturbator come today? She was afraid to admit to herself that she really wanted him to. And so, when life inside the hospital began to quiet down and all the patients had gone to bed, the silence of the ward was broken by a knock on the window. Svetka's heart began to beat rapidly, she slowly got up and approached the glass. The guy, as yesterday, was already standing with his fly unzipped, proudly displaying his manhood. A nagging feeling of acute sexual hunger appeared in the girl's lower abdomen. And the masturbator had already begun to jerk off his cock with smooth, artistic movements, so that Svetka even admired the sight.

Suddenly, the guy stopped and began gesturing for her to also engage in self-pleasure. Only then did Svetka notice that her own hand was already in her panties, caressing the tender folds of her excited pussy. And this guy jumped right up to the window, pulled himself up to the windowsill, and again began showing something with signs, like a sign language interpreter on the news. It took Svetka a moment to realize he was asking her to demonstrate the process of masturbation in full view, just as he was doing. "What a cheeky guy!" was her first thought, "Look what he wants!" But a moment later, she remembered with pleasant excitement how once Max had asked her to show him how she satisfied herself. Svetka had then lain on the bed, spreading her slender legs wide before her beloved's face, and with delight brought herself to orgasm, which she achieved very easily, apparently due to the piquancy of the situation. Moreover, Svetka had long remembered those unusual feelings that enveloped her soul in those sweet minutes and had always hoped her beloved would ask her for such a favor again. But Max lost interest in it.

The decision matured in a matter of seconds. Svetka moved a table to the window, pulled down her panties so they remained on the floor, and climbed onto the smooth tabletop. There she lay on her back and braced her legs, spread apart, against the peeling windowsill, while lifting the hem of her robe. Before closing her eyes, she glanced at the guy pressed against the glass: his face expressed such bewilderment that it seemed he was about to scream in astonishment! What she saw spurred Svetka to continue the show: with her well-groomed fingers with beautiful manicure, she began to stroke her wet slit from her pubis to her anus, trying not to block the view for her sole spectator with her palm. She focused, of course, on her clitoris—it was this bulge that, when touched, sent waves of unimaginable pleasure through the girl's body! Shame tickled her nerves, but it was precisely overcoming this feeling that heightened her sexual arousal! Her thoughts returned again to the strange guy's reproductive organ: Svetka so badly wanted to feel it inside her, to feel how the knobby head, entering her womb, stretched her labia and vaginal walls with strain, and how the large scrotum slapped against her white, firm buttocks with each powerful thrust! Breathing like a steam engine, she tormented her tender pussy, sometimes rubbing her clitoris hard, sometimes spreading the entrance to her vagina wide, even painfully, so the observer outside the window could see her red-pink insides, abundantly flowing with lubrication.

Orgasm was inexorably approaching. And then Svetka's ears caught the sound of confident footsteps in the corridor. The nurse! A terrible thought flashed: what if she enters the ward, what picture will meet her eyes? The danger heightened the girl's arousal so much that at that same moment an incredible, powerful release occurred! Svetka had never experienced anything like it: a stifled moan escaped her chest, her consciousness dimmed from the overwhelming bliss, and her soul seemed to separate from her body and dissolve in the cramped space of the hospital ward.

Monday morning began with bustle: first Nelly Sergeyevna arrived and shared her impressions of being home, then there was the doctor's rounds, and closer to lunch, another woman was placed in their ward. Svetka, however, was impatiently waiting for Max's call: he had promised to definitely come today. She barely waited until evening, but her mobile phone remained silent. Finally, the phone rang! From her beloved's first words, Svetka understood he was drunk: he was talking some nonsense, swearing his love, and begging her to forgive him for again not being able to come. He said that at work, a spontaneous "little corporate party" had arisen, sponsored by the management, and it was impossible to refuse. Svetka irritably pressed the "end call" button and burst into tears from resentment and heartache. Her wardmates began to comfort her in unison, convincing her that nothing terrible had happened—life sometimes brings more unpleasant surprises. Gradually, their persuasion had an effect: Svetka calmed down, and the feeling of resentment was replaced by a feeling of revenge. And then a wild thought burned her consciousness. Of course! She slowly walked to the window, took her mobile phone out of her robe pocket, and her elegant finger danced over the buttons, entering into the phone's memory the digits written on the glass...

Stories by this author

Outside the hospital windows