THE YOUNG TIGERS AND THE SUGAR LUMPS (standard:romance, 2898 words)
Author: Art by Assiliym	Added: Oct 30 2006	Views/Reads: 3006/2120	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is real story from my yearly years.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

voice was suddenly nervous. "There... another tunnel's coming. Please 
stay where you are." "Okay, okay," he frowned. "Have it your way." A 
moment later the train plunged into the tunnel. In the impenetrable 
darkness, smacks and giggles could be heard. The young tigers had 
rushed to find their delicious sugar lumps in the dark. "Come here, 
honey," somebody whispered. "Who the hell are you," protested the girl 
and pushed the young tiger away. "Does it matter who I am," the tiger 
replied. "Shut up and give me a kiss." "One saucy bastard you are," 
exclaimed the girl indignantly, banging his chest with her fists. "Let 
go of me!" "No I won't," he insisted. "Kiss me first." He squeezed her 
slender thigh and covered her with kisses... "Hey, go easy on me... 
you're choking me... I can't breathe..." Goggles tried to wrench 
himself free from Dannie's arms but the chubby girl held him even 
tighter. "Why are you so cold to me? If it were Ana, you'd never get 
off her, but me... you wouldn't even kiss me. You wouldn't even touch 
my thighs!" She nearly wept in frustration. "Am I so fat? Is this why 
you wouldn't even touch me?" There was an angry ring in her voice. 
"Damn," Goggles thought. "I'm in for trouble... If she spills the beans 
I'm a goner... What if I kiss her? She might leave me alone..." He felt 
as if he had to put his hand into a bag of vipers and pick one. On the 
one hand, there was the Komsomol secretary; on the other hand, there 
was that Dannie girl...Goggles gave a deep sigh and chose the lesser 
evil. "Please forgive me," he whispered in the girl's ear. "I was 
afraid Ana might see us." Her body was throbbing with passion. "Don't 
worry. It's pitch-dark. No one can see us." Why am I making so much 
fuss about it, Goggles thought. I could imagine I was kissing Ana... He 
rushed ahead bravely and pressed his lips on the girl. His hands were 
running up and down her body and she started to moan. "Your hands are 
so gentle... Please don't stop..." Dannie was writhing in his arms and, 
much to his surprise, he felt aroused. His fingers plunged below her 
short skirt and drove her nearly crazy. "You are the first to touch 
me... there...," she whispered. "Oh you are so good and gentle." Her 
body was strained as a guitar string. "Come here, sweetheart," she 
whispered. Dannie held Goggles so tight he could hardly breathe. 
"Dannie, please... I'm suffocating," he begged. It hurt so much he felt 
like sobbing but he also had to suppress a burst of laughter. He 
wouldn't have thought that possible - he, the notorious seducer, being 
seduced by Dannie, the girl who would remain a virgin until she turned 
thirty. Luckily, the tunnel finally ended and he could breathe a sigh 
of relief. "Where have you been," Ana whispered from her corner. "I've 
been waiting for you." "Forgive me, love," he answered quietly and sent 
her a kiss. "I'm starving," said a fat boy sitting on Ana's left. This 
one's just a match for Dannie, I should do something about it, Goggles 
thought. The girl next to him was watching him amorously and smiling. 
Panick struck Goggles. Please God, don't do this to me, he thought. If 
Dannie falls in love with me I'm history. He would not only lose the 
most gorgeous and the most desired girl in the school, he would also 
make himself a laughingstock. He had to act fast, before anyone could 
hear about it. "Grunts is hungry. My darling little piggie wants 
something to eat," spoke mockingly a tall boy with a budding moustache. 
"Maybe I'm fat," Grunts frowned and went on daringly, "but I don't have 
a moustache like hog bristle." "Wow," applauded a few of the girls. "A 
fight! We're having a fight!" Grunts and Bristles jumped to their feet 
and gazed at each other with hatred. "I'll kick your ass," Bristles 
gritted his teeth. "We'll see whose ass will get kicked," Grunts smiled 
mockingly. "Stop it!" Goggles thought it was time to intervene. "The 
supervisor's outside. If he sees you fighting, that's the end of your 
record and we'll get no television." Bristles flew into a rage. "What 
do you have to propose, smartass? If Grunts does not apologize I'll 
smash his teeth." "Easy now," Goggles frowned. "You want to play macho? 
Okay, let's do it. Tonight behind the cottages. You'll have the chance 
to prove what men you are." "Good idea. See you tonight, Grunts. That 
is, if you are man enough to stick your snout out of the cottage!" "Oh 
I'm scared stiff," Grunts teased him. "My bristle stands on end. That 
terrifying moustache of yours! It is so thick you can make ropes for 
the entire British fleet out of it!" The teenagers laughed at the 
successful joke. "Moreover,..." "Shut up both of you," Goggles broke in 
unceremoniously. "I'm fed up with your squabble. Tony, why don't you 
look for a sandwich in your bag?" "I ate them all," Grunts replied. 
"The buffet car is right next to ours. You could get something to eat 
there," Goggles suggested. "Dannie will come to keep you company, 
right, Dannie?" He winked at her playfully and licked his lips. "What 
can I get you?" She leant provokingly for the extended bill. She was 
naked below her blue shirt and the sight of her breasts, round as 
apples, made Goggles dizzy. They were so perfect that he did not even 
realize she had asked him a question. "Uh...," he stammered, trying to 
collect his thoughts. "So, what can I get you," Dannie repeated and 
finally returned to upright position. The gorgeous sight was gone and 
Goggles collected himself. "Just lemonade, Dannie. A glass of 
lemonade." He could not take his eyes off her breasts. "And a straw 
please. Get something for yourself also." Dannie winked playfully, as 
if she wanted to say: I've more secrets to show you, you just wait! 
Then she turned coquettishly and walked out of the compartment. Grunts 
followed her. The magnificent sight had not been lost on him, either. 
"Phew! At last," Brittles spoke. "The intruder's gone." "He's a nice 
boy," said Ana in his defence. "Yeah, nice piggie," Goggles added and 
they all burst into laughter. "Now there's just the three of us tigers 
and three sugars, one for each. Right, honey?" He kissed Ana on the 
cheek. "Please stop it. The supervisor will see us," she protested and 
tried to push him away. "What if he does," Bristles frowned. "Is the 
old playboy the only one who's allowed to..." He did not finish his 
words because the train plunged into another tunnel. It was suddenly 
dark again, and the girls resumed their screaming... softly. Very 
softly. It was a beautiful day. The locomotive gave a last whistle, as 
if to prompt the teenagers to move faster. "Fall in by units!" The bald 
Komsomol secretary was issuing orders. The teenagers scurried about. 
"Ana, give the pitch!" "Ñòàâàé, ñòðàíà îãðîìíàÿ...” 

Ana's beautiful voice rang in the summer air. "Forward march!" Ñòàâàé,
ñòðàíà îãðîìíàÿ, Ñòàâàé íà ñìåðòíèé áîé... The song that had inspired 
Russian patriots in their epic struggle with the Nazi invaders 
resounded in the centuries-old forest. Squirrels with furry tails 
jumped from branch to branch. Startled by the noise, a hare shot out of 
the bushes and into the teenagers' feet. "A hare! A hare," someone 
shouted and threw a stone on it. "Silence!" The Komosomol secretary 
grabbed the "offender" by the ear. "You want this in your record or 
what?" "No, of course not," muttered the frightened girl. "I'm sorry, 
comrade. I made a mistake." "I'll talk with your mother when we go back 
from the camp." The "offender" was shaking by now. Talking with her 
mother meant no TV for a month, maybe more. But the worst part of it 
was the "record". Upon graduation, the Komsomol secretary would issue a 
statement about a student's behavior. A less-than-flattering statement, 
something like "insufficiently active in the collective's political 
life" - a phrase like that and you were doomed. No university would 
ever admit such "bourgeois offspring". A tiny blemish in the girl's 
record would mean the end of all her dreams. "You will report at the 
Komsomol hall tonight." "Yes, comrade." The girl wiped the sweat off 
her forehead and gave a sigh of relief. He was not such a monster, 
after all, that Komsomol secretary... He would give her a chance... The 
cottages were scattered on the shore. A gentle wind was blowing, 
stirring tiny ripples on the smooth surface of the sea. Small waves 
splashed on the beach, caressing the fine golden sand. The first 
cottages were massive, made of concrete, and were fenced with wire 
mesh. Between them spread a huge swimming pool. "Are these our 
cottages," an elderly teacher gasped. "No, these are the villas of the 
Regional Committee of the Communist Party. Ours are at the end over 
there," the Komsomol secretary explained. Theirs turned out to be 
decrepit shacks but the teenagers were too enthusiastic to notice that. 
The boys moved into the cottage on the left, the girls into the cottage 
on the right. The teachers got the old dilapidated hut behind. The 
Komsomol secretary was luckier - a small house was reserved for him. It 
was evident it had been repainted recently. The teachers watched him 
with envy. That's how it works, they thought, party members always get 
the best of everything. Of course none of them dared voice their 
thoughts, for they knew the consequences were unpredictable... 
Throughout human history there has never been equality, the old teacher 
thought and sighed. She had two years left to retirement. She was 
determined to get through them no matter what. In the camp center, in 
front of the teachers' cottage, there was a small concrete-covered 
ground, divided into two: a basketball court and a football field. The 
flag of Yugoslavia was raised on a flagpole in the centre. "Fall in," 
the Komsomol secretary shouted with a frown. The teenagers jostled like 
sheep. Finally, they formed more or less straight ranks and froze in 
silence. The Komsomol secretary gave a brief pompous speech, followed 
by an order: "Dragan Savich, forward march!" To the sound of the 
bugles, the best student in the school raised the proud flag. He was 
pulling the string slowly, enjoying the sight he made. He had been 
assigned the greatest of all honours: throughout the vacation, he was 
to raise the flag in the morning and lower it after the evening roll 
call. The boy was walking on air and looked down upon his peers. At 
that moment, he felt like a demi-god. He could see the envy in the 
other students' eyes. Two "bourgeois elements" were whispering in the 
back ranks. "What a clown!" "Baldhead!" There was laughter in the back 
ranks. The Komsomol secretary did not show he had heard it, and let the 
teenagers go. His "noses" - his informers - would let him know the 
names of those who had disturbed the order. Sooner or later, the 
"bourgeois elements" would pay. The Komsomol secretary smiled as he 
entered his private apartment. His was a good life. A very good life, 
indeed. "Be faithful to the party and it will take care of you," his 
ex-guerilla father had told him. He had heeded his father's advice, and 
he had been rewarded. He could never have enough of luxury. He ran 
around the apartment like a child, treading the thick hand-woven mats, 
touching the soft sofa, the enormous TV set and the huge fridge in the 
corner. He finally peered into the bath. There was even a small 
bathtub. Perfect! At that moment, the Komsomol secretary felt like 
Alexander the Great, the ruler of the vastest empire in the history of 
mankind. If he looked closer he would notice that the mats were 
moth-eaten, the dark blue sofa had lost its colour from the long use, 
the TV set was black and white. The Komsomol secretary, however, could 
not care less about such details. He had grown up in misery in a 
godforsaken small village and that apartment was to him like an 
imperial palace... 


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