Do not we first do not we past
They say that we interpret the behavior of others as we would like. Like the girl a guy and it already seems that it is more likely it began to look (and how could it be otherwise, if it all day flickers under his nose), that kind of smile (and his player included - radio anecdote told), well, and so on. That is all talk, looks the other person are perceived not like us. Maybe this is something there. But there is also a mutual attraction. Then you can not make a mistake, then the answer is unambiguous.
Two years later, as we know, the year we did not meet, but I remember all these painfully sweet winter months, as if he had not been a year of separation.
And who is there in the heavens decided that we have to cross in life? For what? And he and I have a family, and he and I have children. He has a child and a year is not fulfilled. Why do we have this love? Why would we?
The initiator was me. Foolishly my first love I did not think. Not what I thought. "It must be mine. He is mine. I want it (in every sense!)". All. there was nothing else in my head. My wish came true very soon. And after our first times I even thought triumphantly ... "
Yes! I made it! That's what I wanted.". And then I was not myself ... "and then what?". After all, I want to be with him all the time, I hate to think that now we have to go home, he would go to his wife (my husband was then in a long trip), I ... I love him ...? ...
Our first time ... I remember with a sad smile. Waiting for the first rendezvous ... I could not eat or drink, or sleep. I was shaking all the shallow tremor. And it was clear that it was going to the same thing. Everything happened in the car. My God, adults! Peasant 45 years old, my amnogo-less, but too much is not a girl - in the winter, in the car. And most importantly, both very
They want and are very afraid of this. I was afraid of further vulgarity. Being fucked in the car guy who my father .... But good. I did not feel any vulgarity. Only the infinite tenderness. I did not expect it would be so good. I do not expect to care for his part, tenderness. He took me in his arms clenched as if I was a treasure that could disappear at any moment. I did not expect that sex with him give me so much pleasure. I have a very skillful in this respect my husband, and my favorite is even losing. But it is - a favorite! And sex with someone you love is different from a simple fucking, like heaven and earth. It is not sex - is LOVE! Plus some intimate details. My husband, the owner of a rather large manhood (of course, there is more, but for me and a lot of this) and very often during sex, I felt a physical pain from these sizes. I do not know where he hit me there, but I have the pleasure of it did not feel - something good, when everything inside and pierces not want to orgasm, and alienate hurt. And Dima small, plump, neat cock. This beauty does not want to let go of his mouth. And when I'm sitting on top of him, then the abdominal wall can be seen that it is moving in me, and I can put a palm on the bump and feel it by hand - it is both inside me and I can stroke his hand. And that I love him even more ... "Dima, Dima .... well ... as well! ...".
In general, the first time took place. After that I finally realized what was missing. We really wanted to be together. Even though it was absurd. We met at the earliest opportunity, even when my husband returned. The worst and the most beautiful week of my life.
I imprinted in the memory of the picture - a picture ... we have it at home in front of a mirror, he hugs me. I do not consider myself beautiful, not at all. I am I, what could be done here, not to be on the covers of magazines. But on the "Photo" I am beautifull. Because happy, because - love. Beautiful, happy ... and doomed. Because happiness has ended, and we go out of our temporary refuge of love. Mirror - in the hallway.
Two weary heart. Now he will go to his wife, and I - to her husband. And we lie. And fear is not specified and called the name of their respective spouses favorite.
It so happened that the legitimate wife learned all. And to meet in secret was no longer possible. We had to make a choice. What do you think, what choices can make a normal man, whose wife, the long-awaited (!) Son, his wife and son. Did he leave a woman of thirty-five, whose first husband committed suicide, one with two boys. She married him, trusting him himself, his unhappy life story, your child. She bore him a son. It is for her - everything. She was not it just did not live - not even in the material, but in a psychological sense. And unless he agrees to see his son dreamed of my entire adult life, only once a week? Normal man in spite of his one great love, will remain with the family. And who could blame him for that? Dima left. And love .... Well, then, maybe more, maybe more .... Time heals. It will heal. Someday. We must be patient. Six months, a year or two? .... Do not we first, we did not last.
And I made my choice. I told my husband ... "I do not regret anything. Asking forgiveness feel stupid. Would you - divorce. I agree to live with me - good. No reproach will not have to think about it do not you dare". Not divorced. Live. Poor living. That is, we do not swear, and seemingly all great, but. Separated from each other, of course. Attitude is not something that came to me. I have divorced myself, but financial problems ... and the child. And over the past year, I have never received moral satisfaction in bed. Thus, physiological discharge. I close my eyes and ... winter, Dima, the drawn curtains in the daytime, blue linen, I can not live without this girl, blue eyes, cut from a razor on the lip, never no one so loved, "the photo" in the mirror....
Dima, do you remember my little girl?
A year has passed. How many more have to suffer ...