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And she whispers something tender, affectionate in her ear. Kisses. And her hands that get up!
- Strange, I thought there was no one else here. You probably dreamed - her free hand slipped under the blanket and began to stroke my side. I took her hand and held it to my lips. I began to touch each finger of her gentle palm. Marie looked at me with the same gentle gaze, "I love you."
My husband was sleeping nearby. His childlike, simple-hearted face did not attract or repel Alice. She treated him like a thing that is absolutely necessary and inevitable in the home. When it was necessary, he gave her pleasure, in the rest - it was like raznoshennye home slippers. She was pleased to feel his body on him - warm, familiar. When he was exposed, the feminine touch felt in his light fullness, soft, rounded movements. The person, changed by passion, acquired a slightly painful expression. Alice several times hurt him in intimate moments and saw that he was enjoying it. It bothered her unconsciously, because she herself would like to be in his place. Several times she tried to humiliate herself, to awaken in him the feelings of a sovereign owner, a little careless in dealing with her. But he only smiled helplessly, covering her face with tender kisses, and whispered inappropriate words of love and gratitude at that moment. When Alice finally realized that her husband could never fully satisfy her deepest desires, she immediately began to feel the lustful looks of other men - just as it was before marriage.
When Harald settled in the next house, Alice started to wake up at night.
The crowd rustled, stirred over me. Voices were heard: "Ask her, baby, ask her now as it should."
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"Okay, if that's what you want."
- Do you mind if I join? Said the girl. I turned and saw a modest creature in a short skirt and silk shirt. In her hand the girl held the same glass as mine. I saw her on the channel a couple of times, she was either a secretary, or just a petty journalist. I shrugged in silence and moved the hanging jacket. The girl nodded her head and stood beside him, just putting the glass on the railing.
In Moscow, Korobov took her home, laid him on the sofa. She lifted her eyelids and smiled.
-What is this place?
My prosto prishli syuda, otdokhnut', poboltat', pospletnichat', pootkrovennichat' kak my eto lyubim delat'... My zakazali martini, ya lyublyu yego, kak krasnoye vino... ono stoit na stole v shirokikh ryumkakh na izyashchnoy tonkoy nozhke, prozrachnaya, nemnogo gustovataya zhidkost', slegka obzhigayushchaya gorlo.... v bokalakh po maslinke, nasazhannykh na shpazhki.... My boltayem obo vsem podryad, o pogode- chto nado pokupat' obnovu na vesnu.. o rabote - kotoraya nas davno malo interesuyet.... o smeshnykh situatsiyakh v nashey zhizni... my govorim o chem ugodno... tol'ko ne o nas... YA znayu chto segodnya ya skazhu tebe ochen' vazhnuyu dlya menya veshch'... YA reshilas'.... ya nervnichayu, govoryu bystro, sbivayus'... ty peresprashivayesh' menya... "akh, da, chto- to tam pro obuv'". YA bespechno ulybayus', na tvoye zamechaniye " letayesh' v oblakakh". YA smotryu na tvoye litso, na tvoye takoye miloye i dorogoye dlya menya litso....
