Paul Prascevic. Stranger from the bus (№ 433962)

As much as I felt good a second ago, I felt just as bad now. A sharp pain hit my head, and I was burnt with shame for what happened. She herself allowed me to do "whatever I want." And I did, dying of pleasure. And now I was ashamed. I wanted to run out of her apartment and, falling face down in the snow, stop being.