4. How to love someone else's wife
As a psychotherapist who works not only with individuals but also with couples, I have witnessed a lot of marital conflict over the past thirty years. Every week husbands and wives, partners in long-term relationships, come to me. And they all complain that their romantic and sexual relationships are often marred by deep-seated feelings of unhappiness. Although I sometimes feel like I'm familiar with all the broken marriage vows, I immediately recognize another way that partners can become distant or even deeply hurt.
Over the years, I have dealt with a variety of painful family and sexual problems: a wife discovering that her husband is addicted to pornography on the Internet, a boyfriend realizing that his girlfriend is a lesbian, a man admitting that he does not feel any sexual attraction to anyone, a woman complained that she had reached the age of seventy without a single pleasant sexual experience, because they all reminded her of a childhood sexual abuse from a close relative. But among all these complex sexual situations and difficulties, I can highlight two of the most common and characteristic ones, namely:
1. Couples who had a wonderful physical relationship before marriage, but after exchanging rings lost attraction for each other.
2. Long-term partners whose marriage was complicated by an extramarital affair.
I will show you two typical clinical illustrations of this phenomenon. To protect patients' privacy, I have, as always, changed their names.
Twenty-six-year-old "Bertie" and twenty-four-year-old "Flora" met at university. For five years their sexual relationship was passionate. They genuinely enjoyed each other's company. It's no surprise that Bertie and Flora got married. But three months after the wedding, their sexual relationship changed dramatically - and neither spouse understood why this happened. Bertie described the situation briefly as follows: “One day the passion just disappeared. It's not that Flora became less attractive or that I gained weight. We're just not attracted to each other anymore."
Thirty-five-year-old "Claude" and his thirty-three-year-old wife "Greta" were a happy family. Everything was fine until Claude cheated on Greta with his best friend "Jamil's" wife "Irena". Greta did not understand why Claude needed this affair, since she considered her marriage to be very strong. Claude also did not fully understand his behavior, because he was convinced that he loved his wife. But nevertheless, he simply could not cope with himself. Claude also did not understand how he could act so cruelly towards Jamil - after all, he had been his best friend since school years and had proven his devotion more than once.
Why do people have to put so much effort into maintaining strong, long-lasting intimate relationships? Why are we drawn to forbidden pleasures, like Bertie and Flora? Why do we hurt those we love most, like Claude, Greta, Irena and Jamil did?
Sigmund Freud deeply understood how we ourselves ruin our sex lives and marital relationships. Freud had reason to seek answers to these questions. Not only did he encounter situations similar to mine in the context of his psychoanalytic clinical practice, but he was also forced to understand the problems of his own very complex personal life. After many years of marriage to his beloved wife Martha, the mother of his six children, Freud, by his own admission, stopped all sexual relations with her. He began a long affair with his wife's younger sister Minna Bernes. Minna was unmarried and lived in Freud's house, devoting her life to caring for his children. We know about this novel from various sources. Recently, a sociologist discovered an old hotel guest registration book. In 1898, Freud and his wife's sister checked into the Schweitzerhaus Hotel in the Swiss Alps. They stayed in room 11. Freud wrote in the book: “Dr. Sigmund Freud and his wife.”
In 1910, Freud wrote a short but very succinct essay, “Some Character Types from Psychoanalytic Practice,” in which he described how we spoil and confuse our own erotic lives. Freud noted that we often treat our partners as something other than people, and more primitively – as to objects. He constantly uses the terms "love object" and "object choice":
“In the course of psychoanalytic treatment, the doctor has many opportunities to gain insight into how neurotics behave in love; at the same time, we can remember how we ourselves have observed or heard about such behavior in ordinary healthy people and even in those who have outstanding abilities. As a result of a happy accident in the selection of material, thanks to the accumulation of homogeneous impressions, certain types emerge before us in love life. I will begin by describing one such type of object choice (usually characteristic of men), because it is distinguished by a number of such “necessary conditions of love”, the combination of which is incomprehensible, even strange, but this type has a simple psychological explanation.
1. The first of these “conditions of love” could be called positively specific; if it is present, then you can look for other distinctive features of this type. This can be called an “injured third party” clause. Its essence is that the person in question never chooses a free woman as an object of love - that is, an unmarried girl or a free married woman - but only one to whom another man can lay claim: a spouse, groom or Friend. In some cases, this condition turns out to be so fatal that at first the woman is not paid any attention or even rejected while she belongs to no one, but as soon as she enters into such a relationship with another man, a person of this type instantly falls in love with her.
2. The second condition, perhaps not so constant, is however just as strange. This type of object selection occurs only in combination with the first condition, whereas the first condition by itself is very common. The second condition is that a woman who is pure and beyond all suspicion is never attractive enough to become an object of love, but only a woman who enjoys a bad sexual reputation, whose fidelity and integrity are in doubt. This last feature can vary greatly, from a slight shadow on the reputation of a married woman who is not averse to flirting, to the open promiscuity of a cocotte or priestess of love. But men of this type cannot get satisfaction without something like this. The second necessary condition, rather roughly, can be called “love for a prostitute.”
While the first condition makes it possible to satisfy the hostile impulses of competition and hostility directed at the man from whom the woman he loves should be taken away, the second condition - the woman's involvement in prostitution - is associated with the need for a feeling of jealousy, which is obviously necessary for lovers of this type. Their passion reaches its greatest strength only if they can be jealous. Only then does a woman acquire real value for them, and they never miss the opportunity to experience these most powerful feelings.”
Freud argued that many men experience arousal from an affair with either married a woman, or with a forbidden woman (for example, with his wife’s sister, as was the case with Freud himself), because such relationships give them a secret, unconscious pleasure in the fact that they are causing pain to someone - a deceived husband, their own wife or themselves , because if the relationship becomes known, they will incur anger and hatred. Freud also believed that many men not only enjoyed sex with other people's wives. They are also attracted to a woman who is prone to promiscuity. Having sex with a prostitute, a man gets secret satisfaction by taking a woman with a “bad reputation” from everyone other men with whom she had sexual contact. Thus, a man in his own mind becomes, so to speak, an “alpha male.”
Freud then goes on to explain the deeper childhood origins of this type of sexual constellation:
“In a psychoanalytic study of the lives of men of this type, it is easy to discover such a source. Such strange choice of love object and such bizarre loving behavior have the same psychic origin as the love life of a normal person. They come from the child's fixation of tender feelings on the mother and represent one of the consequences of such fixation. In a normal love life, only a few features are preserved in which the influence of the maternal prototype on the choice of object is undoubtedly manifested, such as, for example, the preference given by young people to more mature women - that is, the separation of love attraction (libido) from the mother occurred relatively quickly. In people of our type, on the contrary, even after the onset of puberty, the libido remains connected with the mother for so long that the objects of love they later choose have clearly expressed maternal characteristics, and they are easily recognized as a substitute for the mother. A comparison with the deformation of the newborn’s skull suggests itself: after a long labor, the newborn’s skull is a cast of the mother’s pelvic passages.
We must therefore point out the possibility that the characteristic features of men of our type—the conditions of their love and their behavior in love—really derive from a psychic constellation connected with the mother. The easiest way is when the first condition is met - the woman must be unfree, or there is an injured third party. It is quite obvious that for a child who has grown up in the family circle, the fact that the mother belongs to the father is inherently connected with the idea of \u200b\u200bthe mother, and the “injured third party” is none other than the father. It is also natural for children's relationships to be revalued, thanks to which the beloved is the only one, irreplaceable: for no one has more than one mother, and the attitude towards her is based on an event that does not raise any doubts and cannot be repeated.
If we understand that all love objects chosen by a man of our type are only substitutes for the mother, then the “formation of a series”, which seems so sharply contrary to the condition of fidelity, is understandable.”
"On one special type of choice of an object by a man", 1910
What do Freud's conclusions on the psychology of love teach us? First, we must re-recognize our unconscious tendencies towards pain and sadism in intimate relationships. During early childhood, each of us craves the absolute attention of our mother, father, or other primary caregiver. In the classic situation, we want to be either mother's favorite soldier or daddy's little girl. But we have to share our limited parental affection with annoying siblings and, worst of all, Mommy's (usually the father's) or Daddy's (usually the mother's) partner. In adult life, we tend to repeat this situation - usually unconsciously - by breaking up couples, as my client Claude did when he entered into an intimate relationship with the wife of his best friend Jamil.
But we not only give in to the secret desire to break up another couple, as Claude and Irene did when they deceived Greta and Jamil. Sometimes we can't stand being a sexual couple, as happened with my clients Bertie and Flora. Freud believed that when we get married, we not only satisfy a long-standing desire for a special sexual partner (like Mommy and Daddy). We experience sadness and guilt for marrying the wrong person—that is, the wrong mother and father whom we adored in infancy and early childhood. Therefore, many people, having exchanged rings, experience a conscious feeling of pleasure and achievement, but at the same time, an unconscious fear of betrayal by their parents lives in their souls. They feel like they are telling their parents, “Look Mom, I found a woman who is prettier than you,” or “Hey Dad, my husband makes more money than you!” Psychotherapists have realized that spouses often stop having sex with each other in order to cope with these feelings of guilt and secretly remain faithful to their parents. Although such an explanation may seem complex and even strange, modern psychologists encounter these dynamics again and again in their daily work.
The divorce rate in our country is almost 40 percent, and we know very well how painful and fragile family life can be. Freud helped us understand that the outbursts and inhibitions that destroy intimate relationships often arise outside of our consciousness and are beyond our conscious control. But realizing that becoming part of a couple - that is, what most of us passionately strive for - Same can be a source of deep terror, we may seek help in a difficult situation. Moreover, Freud's works on the psychology of love help us understand the secret desires that may be hidden behind conscious passion. Perhaps the next time we feel erotically aroused by the sight of a married man with a sparkling gold wedding ring, we will treat him more carefully, recognizing the fact that we are attracted ring(and what it symbolizes, that is, the desire to hit an opponent) and the ability to hurt another person, and not at all seductive forms or a pair of powerful biceps. And when we feel a lack of interest in our own partner, we may remember that we secretly confuse the erotic partner with the custodial parents of early childhood.
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From the author's book4. How to Love Another Man's Wife As a psychotherapist who works not only with individuals but also with married couples, I have witnessed a lot of marital conflict over the past thirty years. Every week husbands and wives, partners in
Life is unpredictable and full of surprises. It often happens that you meet a woman who you really like. But the problem is that she is already married.
This scares many men. They do not want to destroy the family or think that seducing a married woman is very difficult. They think that she is chaste and will not flirt with you. But everything is exactly the opposite. 90% of women who are married cheat. Female nature, the nature of the female, takes its toll.
Official statistics, of course, will show a much lower figure, but do not forget that some women do not advertise their infidelities. And the real rate of betrayal will be higher.
Seducing a married girl is no more difficult than seducing a single girl. All you need is the right approach and a little training in this matter. Why do women easily cheat? Everything is very simple. Family life is boring, the husband does not pay attention, is not interested in her problems, there is nothing to talk about with him, banal boredom, the desire to please, to excite, to experience vivid sensations again. With age, the feminine principle awakens in many women, they begin to want sex more and more. But the husband either doesn’t want to or can’t.
Such a woman begins to look for meetings with other men herself. And in some cases, she may get to know you herself. Women and girls love with their ears and soul. If you can understand and give what she needs, you will receive a devoted lover in return. Seducing such a woman is not at all difficult. It is enough to make a couple of beautiful compliments or start a casual conversation. Some will immediately make contact and perhaps you will go to her or to you without further ado. Others will need to be conquered. They themselves do not yet understand what they want. With such people, it takes a little more time to make them fall in love with you, forcing them to cheat on their husband.
To seduce such a woman:
1. You must be gallant. Ladies love polite and gallant gentlemen. When leaving the vehicle, give her your hand, open the door for her, letting her go forward. There are few gallant gentlemen left now, and girls want this, so this will be a pleasant highlight for her.
2. Romantic. Not all women love romance. Look at your chosen one. If she is indifferent to flowers and gifts, then you should not overwhelm her with these. Find out what a woman likes. And in accordance with this, develop a strategy for your behavior. But if a lady, on the contrary, wants a romantic relationship, buy her flowers and do other romantic things for her.
3. Be able to joke. Women, regardless of age, like men who know how to joke, present a particular situation beautifully and funny. In other words, entertain them. The main thing here is not to go too far, so as not to be considered a buffoon.
Give her flowers, convince her that she is beautiful and sexy, that you are delighted with her. These simple words will easily melt the ice in a girl’s heart and make her look at you differently. Competent flattery, flavored with beautiful, and most importantly successful, compliments is the key to success.
Where to meet married women? Yes, anywhere. On the street, in the park, in the store, in the cinema, museum, club, on the Internet. She is a person just like you.
Now you know how to pick up a married woman. And if you have a need for this, you can safely go on the offensive; with a little training, it will not be difficult for you to seduce most married women. But don’t forget about the moral aspect; dating other people’s wives is not very good and it can lead to unpleasant consequences. And remember. While you are having sex with someone else's wife, it is quite possible that someone else is in love with yours.
I have known this girl for many years and I knew her when I was in school. And this is not at all like the modern lady who is now married, has children, is the wife of a friend and has several other constraining circumstances.
When we knew each other, from the first meetings (for ordinary strangers to each other), we appeared as nothing more than just acquaintances. Moreover, I didn’t notice anything in it except visual sympathies. Well, pretty girl, so what? Tall, noble, seemingly interesting, but maybe not, maybe not interesting, strangers are always interesting. Moreover, I was still a male; I would spend time with two or three girls during the course of a day. In general, I didn’t deny myself anything.
And here one of them is trampling before our eyes, flashing in the circumstances of life, but as a fleeting plot, and a website, and not particularly different from many ordinary ones. She just kept worrying that I wouldn’t “deceive” her sister (she was a couple of years younger than her), she kept shaking her finger at me - be careful not to take advantage of the gullibility of her sister (who used to hang out in our company). Yes, somehow I didn’t really need her sister, and she herself was somehow indifferent, I had enough work as it was.
But then our heroine of the novel managed to marry my friend, and I noted for myself what a “good” wife she turned out to be. A child was born, and a friend sits with us, unmarried, we drink vodka, hang out somewhere, maybe even go to a carnival, and she sits at home, raising the child, kitchen, laundry and all the other attributes. Moreover, he sometimes manages to come to us - he punches him in the face and drives him home. So I thought - what a family woman, what a housewife, and all that.
And I noticed for myself for the first time her feminine witchcraft charms when, one day, I went to pick up a friend. They were lying in bed, he got up and was getting ready, she sat up in bed, a T-shirt on top, covered from the waist with a blanket. I’m standing in the corridor - simply fascinated by the beauty: a cute little contented face, flowing long, lush and curling hair, (rather large) breasts of the correct shape visible through the T-shirt. And in addition, her dark and bottomless eyes, nicely lined with makeup (slightly disheveled, like her hair and, indeed, like herself). This is just a little beauty (I’m 5 years older than her), this is a mermaid. No! It's Siren! Sea siren! These are singing somewhere and beckoning sailors who have lost their vigilance! Irreversibly! They take it for good! You can’t run away from them, it’s a whirlpool, it’s an abyss, it’s a step into the abyss, if you get caught, it’s the end. They don’t just walk away from people like that.
I stand, admire and sincerely rejoice for my friend. We went out. within a minute I had already forgotten her, but not forever. Soon she divorced her friend. When I met her on the street, I greeted her backhand, so as not to disturb the opinion of my strict upbringing, to which, fortunately, I was accustomed. And only sometimes he cast after him, not even a glance, but a thought! The memory of her upbringing, of her desire for comfort, of her pitiful attempts to put her friend on the right path, of her willpower, iron character and many human qualities. And, for dessert, he just noted with the thought “she’s a good girl.” And after a minute I forgot again, as if she didn’t exist. Whenever I happened to be in a common group, I didn’t even remember her presence.
And then she managed to get married again. I was away for a long time, I only know that I was studying somewhere, but I came with my new husband. And again an attempt, again a step forward, towards the family idyll, into the comfort of home, into the routine of everyday life and family troubles. And then one day, after several years of complete isolation of me from her social circle, she calls me, with tearfully piercing pity for her accident, with a problem in everyday matters: “help, there is no one to turn to except you.” I am a sympathetic, simple-minded and good-natured person by nature, and if a woman asks, it’s the law! And, especially, a woman like her! My whole life flew by in my head, analyzing our “contacts” with her on the fate of people who were strangers to each other, and with pleasure, I went to help her new husband in order to carry out a small handful of family and household “technical solutions” in which her husband was not entirely competent.
To be honest, I was no expert at this either! Somewhere far from that I had to deal with this kind of business, but again, like a true macho, I could not afford not to cope. And we did it! Quite quickly and quite successfully. She was delighted. They thanked me for my help and said goodbye in a friendly manner. I, just as friendly, bowed and left, proudly (but modestly) raising my nose and writing down another good deed for the judgment of the Almighty.
Circumstances turned out so that her husband came to work with us. We started talking and became friends. Immediately, automatically, we began to communicate with her family. The relationship is warm, selfless and good-natured, unjealous and trusting. And everything would be fine, but life doesn’t happen like that. I will not describe the characteristic subtleties, just as I will not talk about myself. The only thing I will say is that I’m not married now, I don’t even have a girlfriend. website But, most importantly, my heart does not belong to anyone. And here, according to the law of physics, the voids are filled with matter. I don’t know how it works, but I can’t get the thought of her out of my head. I like to look after her when she gave birth to her second husband, I even enjoyed pushing her stroller with the baby, we sometimes met, walked through the forest or went around the corner to smoke.
I feel good with her, it’s easy, not stressful, it’s warm, warm in a friendly way, but you can’t fool yourself, I remember how much I liked her. Previously, I didn’t pay attention, but now I like her even more, because she has become more mature, more feminine, more understanding in life and picky about men. Her breasts have slightly lost their former shape, but her hips have become rounder. She was a beauty, a little princess, and now she is perfection (if we analyze the “nature” of a woman collectively). I'm just crazy about her and (let's just say) for a couple of years I've been catching myself thinking that I like her. Really like! I absolutely love everything about it to the point of madness.
It happened before, she could open the door for me in panties and run off to get dressed, but my (albeit battered over the years) “experienced” eye, the gaze of a male, photographed everything! Already taken a photo and viewing it in slow motion, extracting it from the memory medium. And he doesn’t just look at it, but stares, admires and savors every millisecond of what he sees. He admires it again and turns on the replay. But even this has not moved from the fantasy section to the category of dreams and the subject of sighs, yet.
It was like an objective audience with a “star,” a thematic experience of the boundaries of fantasy, a mental contemplation of a dancing beauty. A mixture of what I saw now and instances of an erotic spectacle flying through my mind that I saw earlier. There flashed her breasts exposed in the neckline, there her silhouette translucent in the light of the sun’s rays, there her sexy and exciting position, and a thousand other little things flashed, painting the image of the “Sea Siren”, so close and alien, so dear and unapproachable, so sexy and desirable , but a minute later indifferent - just a friend. A friend in a skirt.
And this lasted for a long time, until we crossed paths in the same company, later staying at her sister’s house, the site of the three of us - me, her, sister. I rarely drink, so this time I went to the bar lightly with them (there were five of us). They got pretty drunk and danced. And so, when the three of us went to my sister’s to finish what we had not drunk, she said that she would stay overnight with her sister. The husband went home and their girlfriend too. We are three. Her sister and I are sitting, she is standing opposite, having a conversation. Here she opens the robe to the level of “arms to the side”, like pulling the belt and tying it tighter, supposedly strengthening the fit of the robe to the body. At the same time, he continues his story as if nothing was happening. At the same time, realizing that I was looking at her. I understand that maybe this is not a “sign” at all, but friendly ambitions of trust, a sign of shamelessness in my presence. But I'm a man! And in this exact second, not out of my impudence, but purely mechanically, I lower my gaze to the most intimate place. She caught my “quick” glance, she read the question in my eyes and all the dumbfoundedness of my consciousness, but, despite everything, the site did not show any sign of what had happened, nor did she waver in the timbre of her voice, continuing her story.
I desperately wanted to stay there with her, forever, hug her and not let her go anywhere. Nowhere and no one else. And belong to her! But! There is this “but” again. I stayed a little longer, said goodbye and went home, remaining far from her embrace, having never been kissed by her, realizing that she was about to leave for someone else. After all, she is not mine! She's a stranger. So dear and so alien. So close, but on the other side of the universe.
Days passed, thoughts sometimes returned to try to “work on mistakes”, in search of the reason for the mistake, or to savor what had happened once again, but only for minutes. Minutes of analysis, or weakness, with longing for what followed and did not happen. And then one day I came from the dacha to them, and in my backpack I had clothes that I asked to wash (only the second time with such a service in all time). It doesn’t matter why to her, it doesn’t matter how or what. The fact is that I saw her on the site in a dress (usually she wears jeans). It was the same mermaid, my Siren. I met her on the street, a beautiful dress above the knees, emphasizing her already tall stature, fitted and gently hugging her chest. Lush blond hair falling almost to the waist, like waterfalls, blowing in the wind and simply driving you crazy. I saw her and realized that I fell in love again!
As befits a true gentleman, I gave him an excellent compliment, and the reward (if this test can be called that) was not long in coming. We came home, I took clothes out of my backpack when she began to unload laundry from the washing machine, selecting what else could be added to the wash I asked from her own. Only she did it standing, bending forward, towards the window of the washing machine. Yes, bending over so much that her short dress went to a place that only a T-shirt could cover. And the whole problem is that I was sitting behind (in the corridor, in front of the door to the bathroom). Facing her, facing all her charms, stunned and even holding his breath. My site is Siren, in that same summer dress, with a witch’s charm, with charming lush flowing hair, with all the good and positive things that I remember about you, with all my opposite magnetic pole, pushing me towards myself. My little princess, who has grown to the status of a noble Lady, my little priceless diamond, cut through the years and trials of fate. You have no price, and when your silhouette takes on a sexy image, my brain just turns off. I feel like a free bird accidentally and unexpectedly caught in a snare.
I understand that if it weren’t for her, perhaps I would have even touched her sweets, perhaps even pressed them with my lips, hugging her lovely rounded hips. I would lean in and surrender myself entirely to pleasure, without hesitation, without hesitating in thoughts, only with passion and the desire to forget about the whole world. If it hadn’t been her, then maybe my reaction would have been different, but I wanted her, her alone, her alone. But I couldn’t admit even to myself what I wanted to do with her. And let “couldn’t” sound hypocritical on the site, I’m far from modest, but there is a fact! The irrefutable fact is that I couldn’t admit it even to myself. I pretended that nothing had happened, we sat, talked a little and I left.
But this incident turned everything upside down for me. All. And ideas about her, and secret desires, and desires for events, absolutely everything. I don’t want to interfere and change her life, but her relationship with her husband has gone downhill. It’s tempting to do some kind of “nasty thing” in order to benefit yourself. They are headed for divorce, I need to push them onto the righteous path (which is what I am doing), but I have thoughts about how I will offer her my hand and heart if she is left alone. No, I would like to think about how to arrange a festive banquet where they will reconcile, so in my thoughts I offer her to pay for a rented apartment where she will live after leaving her husband (she shares with me what is painful, and at the moment she will not pay the rent herself). My friend believes me, and I try not to look again, but in my mind I’m waiting for new erotic “exploits” from “my” Siren. And often mentally with her, with such a dear one, but not mine. With such a close neighboring planet. With such a desire, but a thought that I try to drive away.
And this is a dead end. This is a utopia. “My” Siren eats me from the inside, in my contradictions, in my reactions of rejection, without which it is now impossible to think. She swallows me like a black hole, I fell for the “Siren’s song”, I am deprived of the right to choose, I am paralyzed in the ability to resist, I float towards her, mentally float and hate myself for this weakness. If anyone has been in similar situations, I envy you, perhaps you already have immunity. If this fate did not befall you, you are the happiest person. If you protect yourself from analogies, you are a craftsman, you are the creator of your own destiny, with a calculating, cunning nature. But not me. I am caught and burning in the rays of this star and I am afraid that its abyss will swallow me whole.
And I don’t know how to resist this flow, I don’t know how to overcome this magnetism and return to the field of natural gravity. Just a slight gust of thought, and its wind carries me there, into this abyss. But there is neither the strength nor the physical ability to suppress these thoughts completely. In reality, with a face full of condemnation when a zombified sailor is carried ashore by sea Sirens, I find myself closing my eyes only to mentally set a course for her orbit. And there is no antidote, no potential healers, no chance to do otherwise. There is only me, my “blind” feelings and she is my Siren!
She doesn't know about my feelings and thoughts, except for what she can read in my eyes. She is married for the second time, has 2 children, has lived with her second husband for more than 5 years, but she is not forty years old. I'm a little older than her, but we look about the same as her, although she looks just as younger than her age. I was married, I have a daughter, I am not going to open up to her, at least not now. She behaves friendly with me and sometimes advises me which girl to marry. Eh, if she knew about my entire site and rich sexual experience, she would give up advice, she has no idea who her friend is dreaming about.
I don’t so much want to confess, not so much to get advice or read the opinions of those commenting, but rather I just want to show a few of the facets of fate, the sharp edges from which no one can defend themselves. And don't judge strictly. After all, I cannot tell this story to anyone but you. I don’t want to put my family in a position of thought and worry, my friends will judge me, my acquaintances won’t understand. And I don’t know why, but I want to tell you. And I will tell it to you, without fear of harsh criticism, without expecting empathy. I don’t expect comments, although it would be interesting to read opinions. I don’t want advice, I know that I myself would advise sensible things to a similar story.
One day my mother came to see me; my wife either had a cold or something else, but she couldn’t. Of course, I would never have sent my mother to the store for vodka, but this time, even without me, there was someone to cover a hundred. One guy’s wife, a mid-level official in the Kiev City Council, came to see him, and that day they were celebrating her husband’s birthday. What was not there!
Familiar with our procedures, she simply gave a bribe to our owner and then ordered the guards to help the woman, transfer the contents of her spacious Mercedes trunk to the visiting room, it is clear that there was no question of any, even superficial search.
My mother had already fallen asleep, tired from the trip, and I had no choice but to go get acquainted with my neighbors for the next three days. Before I had time to enter the kitchen, I ran into a luxuriously set table at which three ladies, of different ages and different appearances, were busy. I immediately liked the youngest, small, not exactly beautiful, but very sweet, a girl who just needed bows. The men smoked on the sidelines, looking gratefully at their other halves.
“Where is yours?” one of my acquaintances, whom we had already encountered several times on a date, asked after greeting.
- Bro, don’t go far, it’s my birthday today, so we’re already sitting down at the table. - Refusals are not accepted, you don’t want to offend me, do you?
I had no idea of such blasphemy, and so soon I was already sitting at one in this noisy, cheerful company. Toasts sounded one after another, glasses were turned over even faster and by night everyone was ready. Someone brought in a two-cassette player, dancing began to the sad song Butyrka, and the gentlemen hung together on their ladies and swam drunkenly around the kitchen. The husband of the small, pretty girl seemed to be an ardent opponent or simply never danced, and therefore continued to look at the dancers with a dull, drowsy look, resting his heavy head on his fist. Maybe invite this charming creature to dance, I thought then, but immediately changed my mind; those around me might misjudge it and then a traditional Russian fight might not be avoided. If only this drunken miracle would go to lie down in his room and fall asleep, I continued to indulge in seditious thoughts...
“Well, maybe let’s have a drink,” the miracle suggested, and without waiting for our answer, it began to pour it into glasses.
The man himself suggested the entrance to me and the second time I poured it myself, to my friends in full, to the bottom for myself. After the third glass, his head collapsed, exhausted, right on the table into a piece of chicken leg that he was trying to bite.
“We’re taking the body away, it’s spoiling the picture of the holiday,” I suggested to my neighbor, and we immediately moved the man to his room.
Now God himself ordered to diversify the life of this sweet lady. Yes, she herself didn’t mind, having spent most of the feast next to her drunken husband. Lyudochka danced beautifully, but besides that she was a wonderful, talkative, cheerful person with whom I didn’t even notice how everyone left or rather crawled into the rooms.
“So maybe we can change to a calmer environment,” I suggested, noticing that the girl herself was already having trouble standing on her feet.
-And where to? “My drunken mug has fallen apart, I’ve probably vomited everything there,” the girl suddenly remembered her husband, whom she foolishly managed to marry at one time in spite of her boyfriend, who took a very long time to decide.
Only the room of the caretaker, who went into the zone at night, remained free. The lock there is nonsense, even a child could open it, especially with the genes of a burglar dad, a second and we were already in his household. I looked into her eyes, reached behind her back and turned the latch. Luda didn’t look away, she didn’t mind. I gently pulled her towards me and planted a kiss on her girlish, plump lips... A moment later we were already lying on an armored bed, tearing off each other’s clothes. What a body she had, as if it had been soaked in milk before a date. Lyudka reacted to every touch with a muffled moan and gave in as if she wanted to get pleasure for the next years of family life.
It was necessary to part with this magical, sweet girl as soon as possible, otherwise the husband would wake up and start looking for something good. Having kissed Luda for the last time on her alluring lips, I began to look for my panties, and she lay there, dreamily closing her eyes, then suddenly turned around, grabbed me by the neck, pulled me towards her and began to kiss me furiously. A minute later, as if having come to her senses, she turned away and began to hastily dress herself.