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A trill of a doorbell rang through the corridor, and literally a few seconds later a very spectacular brown-haired woman in a scarlet dress reaching to her knees, accompanied by a maid, appeared on the threshold of the living room.

– Your guest, Maxim Vyacheslavovich, – she announced politely as always, and disappeared like a silent shadow from my eyes before I had time to thank her.

Without getting up from the couch, I lazily examined the girl. Her hair, styled in large curls, fell over her narrow shoulders, her dark eyes were thickly lined with black pencil, and the dress, held up by flower-patterned straps, perfectly emphasized the curves of the body.

I beckoned the girl with my finger, and she, shaking her narrow hips, took a few steps.

– Turn around, – I ordered.

She obediently stood up to me behind. Her back was about half open, and I could see a snake of vertebrae running under the fabric. High thin heels… Even though I usually preferred girls with more rounded shapes, this one was good. Yes… very good.