0) 2011, shortly before Moscow. Mamba. Olga She has some kind of incomprehensible, torn work schedule: sometimes during the day online for hours, then in the evening at 11 o'clock it turns out to be five minutes, just to say how tired she is and to say good night. Geographic convergence - once lived in the Blessed Land, bordering our Ems region; even earlier - in one of the republics of the USSR, but the Russian itself left it with their parents as soon as perestroika began to look like a shootout.

Mental discrepancy - despite frequent contact with representatives of southeastern nationalities (and perhaps because of this), there is skepticism about them, not in the sexual aspect (virtual communication did not reach this degree of frankness), but rather in terms of the difference between a word and by deed. Olya thought that “our brother” was boasting recklessly, much to give the stars from the sky and a kilogram of black caviar to boot, and how it comes down to it - right into the bushes. However, as an adult and rational woman, she is aware that all people are different, the son is not responsible for her father, and no one is his caretaker brother, in the penultimate (before the first meeting live) replica on the dating site, she will tell her phone number :
- I forget to ask everything. Do you live in Ensk of the Emsk region, I understood that, and specifically who is by nationality?

1) Moscow, 2011, December. It seems to be not cold by local standards, but it’s still windy and uncomfortable on the street, after the recent deceptive thaw there’s no snow under your feet, but a nasty crispy mess in anticipation of another cold snap. It is an early evening on the clock, but it is already getting dark, the weather has never walked, while Olga was waiting at the metro station, prayed to the heavens, that she would not want the boardwalk, but would agree to sit somewhere. I agreed. Passed somewhere in the immediate vicinity.

Oh god What a catering point this catering turned out to be for a settling eatery ... I have never been to such since Soviet times, and did not even think that those in the capital, within walking distance of the metro, have survived. There is mud on the floor, noisy, smoky, the range is poor, there is no vestibule, the door is always open, cold. Moreover, the people are piling on a tree of the most varied caliber: at the bar two girls vulgarly laugh, the barman tends jokes to them; Above the far table thickly swears mate from the mouths of hard workers who do not like to let money down the drain; after one, two bureaucratic or teaching-looking men sit in decent coats and their neckties are peeking out from under scarves. So I’m tolerating women’s choices and don’t like to criticize them, but still, until we sat down, I didn’t suffer:

- Ol, I don’t like something here, honestly tell you. Let's go to another place, it can not be that there is nothing more decent nearby.
- Oh, DD, come on, don't force, what's the difference! - Olga said wearily and sank into a chair. - Let's drink a cup of coffee, smoke and run away.

Let's run? What else ... claw stuck, the whole bird abyss, this is a known thing.

Halfway to bed, I mean in the middle of a conversation, Olya suddenly catches herself.
- Listen, you didn’t tell me what nationality you are. I asked you at Mamba, but you did not answer.
- How is it not answered? - I wonder. - Answered. In response to your phone number, he gave his, and from there he called you today. And below said that I ... - voiced the real nationality.

Olya laughs loudly.
- What's so funny?
- I wrote to you and went to work, I did not go to the site anymore, I did not see your answers. If I had seen, I definitely would not have come on a date.
- Why?

It turns out that her ex-husband is my countryman, and he left a lot of negative memories of himself. Vral, bouncer, swindler, moreover unfortunate.
- And now what, we are all so bad, do you not give chances to anyone?
- No, no, people are different, of course, do not be offended! My mother-in-law, for example, was a golden woman, I looked after her to the last, even though I had been divorced for a hundred years. Visited more often and helped more than her own son.

Nevermind. What is there with her personal life now, the questionnaire on Mamba, after all, is not created from the bay-flounder? (Something, of course, I learned later, through personal communication and correspondence with classmates, and not during this first conversation, but for a holistic impression I will state immediately). Olga is my age, 43 years old, slightly shorter than me, large, one can say a bit full, chubby blonde with soft white skin, mouth-watering forms and a slightly cunning expression, you don’t always understand, speak directly or ironically. In Moscow for a long time, an adult son lives with his girlfriend separately, she earns herself normally, she suffices for living and resting abroad (she visits Egypt with her friends 2 times a year, it happens that she does not deny favored aboriginal people), but for her own apartment not yet accumulated, lives in a removable, not one, but with a neighbor-tenant.

- You see, yes, I cannot invite Halavyashchikov from Mamba to myself.
- Understand. Do not ask for it. From here we go straight to the hotel.
- Wow, how fast you are! Already sure to agree?
- My business is to invite. And then see for yourself.

However, there is a man for whom an exception is made in the strict rules of the capitalist dormitory. Her lover on a permanent basis, tossing between her, hateful (in his words) wife and numerous business trips far beyond the MKAD. Olya is fully satisfied with the quality of sex with him, but the amount - alas. The neighbor who has the same occasionally comes, so parity reigns, which is worthless to break.

- Olya, I say it again. To visit you do not ask for. I invite myself. Here you are, here's the phone, as soon as you say yes to me, I call and order a number. The only thing is tell me how much. For two hours, four, or if you can for the whole night, it's generally great.
- No, no, what a night, what are you talking about? I have to go to work without fail. And in general, now I will tell you something, right away you can hide your phone, that I, men, do not know what?
- Speak.
- I have monthly reports.
- In terms of? Do you need to work on them at home? - Readers of the erotic site, I suppose, instantly understood what they were talking about, but, honestly, at that moment I didn’t get it, the more Olga's handbag looked more like a briefcase of a business woman, where the folder with A4 documents would fit easily.
- In the feminine sense, - specifies Olya, transferring a mocking look from my face to the phone. He thinks I'll hide. And stale. Not on that attacked. - Do you understand now?
- Now I understand. Well, do not worry.

- How? - Now, it seems to me, she is at a loss. Type she gave me a chance to leave the battlefield without losing a person, writing off the failure on the fateful circumstances, but I did not pay attention and went all-in. - You do not believe me?
- I believe. So what? These reports of your sex is not a hindrance.
- What else is sex ?! - now indignation unfeigned. In combination with real rejection, even her face twisted.
- Blowjob - also sex, - I smile, - anal - there is more. You like it, right? - bluffing recklessly, the conversations on Mamba did not reach such a level of detail.

Embarrassed, Olga does not answer out loud, but with a slight wrinkle and lowered eyes, she nods. At this moment, she is not like an adult experienced woman, but a young girl who was first persuaded to be something new and shameful, but cherished in dreams and attracting with its taboo. And such a desire breaks through me, so I would have dug into those brightly painted lips with a long kiss, despite a bunch of uninvited spectators ... but not in this gadyushnik. A little later, in solitude. It will come soon, I feel the spinal cord.

I click the phone keys, I look for the hotel number in the contacts. Olin palm covers my hand.
- Wait, DD, do not call yet. I'm confused, honestly, - chuckles in response to my facial expressions, - well, yes, it does not often happen, the image is different. I do not know what to say. Not that I don't want to, but too fast, no? We don't know each other's time either. Why me, what did you like me? - and looks into my eyes trustingly, ...

waiting for a response.
- I do not know, Ol! - I answer honestly. “But I liked it, that's for sure,” and this is also true.
A theatrical pause for a few seconds, eyes on the eyes, after which, having removed my hand from my palm, Olya barely audible whispers:
- Call!

It seems to me that she was nervous for a few seconds, worrying if I didn’t change my mind at the last moment, why it didn’t instantly press a few buttons and pull the phone to my ear. But it seemed to me inappropriate to make a call from this dumb eatery. They went out into the street, it was just a breath of fresh frost, then it rang.

Coffee and cigarettes could not replace a dinner for such persons as we, with far from subtle dimensions, so before we went up to the "number", we went to the store and bought the right one for a light snack. They blinked the worm, smoked one more time (oh, blissful time when smokers were allowed to smoke in hotels and restaurants), spent half an hour of the two available, but it was worth it. Finally, the outerwear was removed, finally turned out to be warm, and finally the nerves of the motley crowd stopped unnerving at the ersatz cafe and the street noise of the big city. Indeed, the dinner itself, strictly speaking, did not proceed in strict accordance with the diplomatic protocol: then, like, inadvertently, I would raise the hem of Olya's dress and walk through the pantyhose over soft, full thighs almost to the hem of the underpants, until she looks down and pretends to look strictly, besieging premature fervor.

Then she, bringing-carrying something, sneaks up behind me, draws something on my bald spot with a nail-claw, smacks on my cheek and quickly runs away, dodging my playful hands. stories of erotica And on her chest, a large, solid, tight-fitting bodice, I looked in and licked my thoughts, but I was afraid to even touch my finger. I was afraid that as soon as I touched, an insatiable male would burst out, Olga would fall down on the floor and take possession of a helpless woman not at all as promised.

NB Two weeks ago, a close friend, praising my last story, said that her approval was largely due to the low amount of sex per page of text. And just yesterday I received a letter from another addressee, where it was said that the eyeliner in my stories is easier to read and more interesting than the description of the actual sexual act. Well, my dear chaste readers, I stretched the prehistory into four Vord pages, let's see how much I manage to squeeze that awful sex-process that was previously replaced with ellipsis, but now it does not look appropriate in every porn text. I agree with you, because it has long been known: “War is garbage, the main thing is maneuvers!”

The unexpected was that Olya was stripped naked. More than once I fucked anally women whose rejection of the vaginal was due to critical days. All of them went to bed in their underpants, the prelude also proceeded without full nudity, proceeded to the act (at least, first) without removing, but lowering the panties, and only if they were constrained along the way, then they were removed. Noticing my surprise, Olga commented:
- Do not look there, you still can not see anything, the days are running out, and the tampon I just inserted, and in general everything is clean, if you want, you can, as usual, but only with a condom.

Do I want a condom? Absurd, really.

Everything else was, in general, expected. Hugs with a gentle, warm, supple woman, long, tasty kisses, big, ripe, alluring for how long the chest, to which I finally seized. Blowjob in a teasing style, when a member sucks deeply and quickly, then fiddles with barely perceptible touches of the tongue, then kisses everything around, not taking it in your mouth, and you impatiently fiddle with your pelvis in trying to stick it in your mouth, and she laughs and plays with eggs.

Well, anal, of course. Stroking the thighs and buttocks, caressing the clitoris in two hands, gel abundantly, relaxation, penetration a little bit, came to an end, waited, back, forward, backward, a gradual set of pace, and then careful fuck in the ass did not fail to turn into juicy ass in the ass. The encouraging soundtrack and the giving of a pelvis by Oli left no doubt about the pleasantness of the process for her.

She finished off my finger on her clit, with her palm on top of my hand, and almost immediately reached my final. Having driven a member until it stops and clasping her big, white, juicy ass with spread fingers, I shuddered in a powerful orgasm, instinctively seeking to penetrate deeper and cuddle closer.

And to be honest, I don’t know if Oli’s words were related to the expected or unexpected when we were lying in an embrace, blissful the last minutes before the inevitable exit from a warm hotel room on a cold December night.

Sounded criticism:
- DD, what kind of belly did you grow yourself? Is it possible, you are still a young man. You know how many women you can put in bed if you are slim and athletic. I'm not talking about health anymore. Come on, take hold of the mind, drive off excess weight.

And the prophecy:
- Well, I got my way, quickly and easily. Now you leave and forget me. Well, let's not forget, but you don't want to meet anymore. Aha-aha, here's a straight crush on me and fell in love without memory. Oh, do not lie that I do not know men?

Olga the seer was not good. The correspondence on classmates for several years was quite lively, and even now it has not completely died out. And we met two more times, in 2012 and 2013.

2) The 2012 meeting was sexually intense. We stayed together all night, spent several full rounds. Ana this time was a little bit, slightly at first, to warm up, then alternated vaginal and screaming. The latter is already mutual. How did Olga end up from Cooney ... just a class! But for some reason she was embarrassed by her excitability, then she even admitted that she had tried to keep to the edge a couple of times, she was worried, "I suppose you think, a nymphomaniac, she seized on forever."

3) And the meeting of 2013 was emotionally colored. Especially sex turned out to be crumpled and slightly hasty: a prelude, some classics, and then bringing each other to oral orgasm. For the rest of the time (we met in the afternoon and Olga had previously stipulated that she should leave no later than 6 pm), in a hurry to speak out and clarify certain episodes from the correspondence, she told me about her two novels in Moscow and one abroad, and serious passion and cordial affection, accompanied by thoughts about changing the position of a rare mistress on the status of civil (so far, well, there, you never know how to turn) of his wife, but the final choice was still made in favor of the “old horse, which does not furrow t ", which, as usual, and did not imagine that participates in competitions in plowing. Plus, paradoxically, one of the factors not in favor of the hypothetical bridegroom was the location of his apartment in a remote area of ​​the capital. I suppose he was not so sweet for Oli, since the coordinates of his hut had meaning.

And as a longtime friend (for the third year we communicate, for the third time we meet, not the fuck-ups), satisfying the eternal female curiosity, pulled some of the details of that Moscow trip out of me. That the day before I spent an enchanting night and no less cool morning with one new girlfriend. That tomorrow morning, I had an appointment with another woman, who at the time was familiar only virtually, but if the stars succeed, they will visit the attic they love, under the ceiling windows that open directly into the sky. And that evening I will spend in a restaurant, and a night in the same room, but not with a new, but really long-time, trusted and time-tested friend, and not a Muscovite, but a resident of Emsk, who happened to be in Moscow for several days.

Then Olya either perekknulo, or she decided to check my endurance and sense of humor. She stated that her circumstances had changed, and that she could stay with me until 7, or until 8, or (searchingly looking at my calm face) even until 10 in the evening. I answered in terms of “the first word is more expensive than the second,” and why Belka should suffer, in which no circumstances have changed, and in general, we barely found a time that suits both, there is no need to upset the meeting. Olya went ahead and threw up an introduction about a whole free night, which she longs to spend in loving ecstasy with me.

“No problem,” I retorted. - In format ZhMZH and with the consent of Bella. I can ask at the meeting if you are sure of your desire.
- It hurts, - Olga went back down. - In old age become a lesbian. Come on and kiss your squirrel!
- Thanks for the permission, dear! - I answered with feeling. - We will definitely kiss. And not only to kiss, - Ole winked, which, not having sustained clownery, laughed loudly.
- Are you scared? Do not worry, I will not interfere with your happiness, I just joked.

And Olga made the last attempt to see her “rival” while accompanying her.
- You're here, near the subway, will you meet your sweetheart?
- Yes, but not at the roundabout, but radial.
Has depicted meditation-temptation.
- I can leave with a radial. Maybe stand with you, wait for her? So as not to miss.
- As you wish, I do not mind. It is unlikely that Squirrel will be embarrassed to see another woman next to me. And in general, - I seized the thought, - let's stay. Dinner for three. I invite, seriously. Suddenly, you decide to stay for the night.
- No, no, dismiss, - Olya immediately began to fight back. - It's not mine. Come on, good luck! - put her cheek under the kiss and dived into the subway.

When I retold these inclinations to Belka, she reacted with complete calm.
- You know, DD, although I am not a zealous Bishka, I have some experience. And I would not mind if I wanted to, if I wanted to, ”my“ red-haired ”friend replied.

And I received this message in classmates from Olya when I was already at home:
- I read your book. Good writing, interesting. And for friends a good friend. But God forbid such a husband to have. Would have nailed right away. With all the friends.

and again 0) When traveling to Moscow in 2014 and 2018, Olga and I called up, but we didn’t see each other. Surely there is a rational explanation. And then, four years ago, and this year, our holidays were partially crossed, and Olya was resting on the distant beaches of unknown seas. When she returned, when the phone instead of “Subscriber is temporarily unavailable” sounded cautious “Hello”, it did not jump in her intonations of the desire to drop everything and immediately see her. I did not show special perseverance either. Everything is fair, everything has its time! But something irrational tells me that with a 7-year delay, the critics also worked (I did not lose weight, but recovered by 10 kg), and a warning.