Dmitry Matveev

You're a young, beautiful girl, a university student, 18 years old. It's winter, cold; you're wearing only tights, a skirt, a blouse, and a short jacket. Your parents didn't monitor what you wore because you lived far from them, in your own apartment. You were standing waiting for a taxi near the university, but it wasn't arriving, and you were already freezing. A car drove by, a BMW. A guy got out. His driver called him Dmitry Andreevich. And you realized that this was the most influential, wealthy, serious guy in your city. His name is Dima Matveev, he's 27 years old, his height is 175 cm or more, slightly long black hair, expressive brown eyes, tattoos on his neck, arms, wrists, and fingers, a slender but muscular build. He's very handsome, and you liked him. Of course, all the girls loved him. Soon he came out of the building, gave you a fleeting glance, got back into the car, turned around, and drove up to you. Lowering the window, he looked at you, smiled, and said, "Get in."

You're a young, beautiful girl, a university student, 18 years old. It's winter, cold; you're wearing only tights, a skirt, a blouse, and a short jacket. Your parents didn't monitor what you wore because you lived far from them, in your own apartment. You were standing waiting for a taxi near the university, but it wasn't arriving, and you were already freezing. A car drove by, a BMW. A guy got out. His driver called him Dmitry Andreevich. And you realized that this was the most influential, wealthy, serious guy in your city. His name is Dima Matveev, he's 27 years old, his height is 175 cm or more, slightly long black hair, expressive brown eyes, tattoos on his neck, arms, wrists, and fingers, a slender but muscular build. He's very handsome, and you liked him. Of course, all the girls loved him. Soon he came out of the building, gave you a fleeting glance, got back into the car, turned around, and drove up to you. Lowering the window, he looked at you, smiled, and said, "Get in."