My hand has been hovering over the keyboard for several minutes now. Fingers predatorily aimed at the coveted key. But I didn’t have the courage to press it yet. I want to press "Enter", but I can't. Afraid. I'm afraid of what will follow this click. If the bird flies away, you can’t return it to its cage.
“Stupid!” I say to myself out loud. - Press, don’t be afraid! You wanted this yourself. Let this cuckold admire now! Let him see what kind of wife he has!
“But he won’t be the only one watching,” my mind tried to cool my ardor. “Others will see it too.” This is what worries me and is still stopping me. Fame in this field scares me... I’ll tell you what kind of field this is next.This is how I would have abused myself for a long time, if not for the scream that came from the street through the open window. The scream was kind of reckless, someone was fooling around. It was very loud and scared me. My hand reflexively trembled and the fingers lying on the desired key involuntarily pressed it. The message with my picture went viral. The train has left, Lyudmila... Of course, the photo can be deleted, there is such an option on the site I chose. But every minute the likelihood that someone will download it or repost it increases. All! Whoever wants to see, let him look.My first experience in pornography. They say that the first pancake is always lumpy. But for some reason I don’t think so. Although I know that there will be a lot of criticism: they say it’s old, but you’re trying to become a porn star. Others will say that the quality of the photo is poor. Others won't like anything else. There is such a type of people - critics... In the first days after uploading my first racy photos on one of the porn sites, I turned off the computer and did not approach it at all. I was afraid that if I started going to the site and looking at pictures, I would be tempted to delete the content. So I paused for the “seedlings” to take root in the new soil. So that someone can download them or repost them
This story began three months ago. Everything was formed literally from scratch. My husband, Ivan, played an important role in this play. In March he was retired. Although “carried out” doesn’t quite sound right. Another word is more appropriate here - “kicked out”. Ivan has always been a ruffian, but in recent years this quality of his has begun to manifest itself too clearly. Conflicts at work arose out of nowhere for him. At first there were conflicts with management. But little by little he managed to turn most of the team against himself.Even bosom friends began to wrinkle their noses. In short, as soon as the husband crossed the retirement age line, he was immediately “suggested” to leave in good health. Oddly enough, Ivan did not persist and quickly dashed off a statement, which was happily satisfied. Hello, well-deserved rest!“Vanka, you’ve gone crazy,” my best friend Stas once told him while visiting us, starting another chess game with her husband. I say “next”, because by that time Stanislav had already lost three.
“Flipped, you say,” the husband muttered, moving the pawn to a new square with his left hand. (By the way, I was always amazed by my husband’s hands. He had very small hands, like a woman’s. Ivan was proud of this and said that this was a sign of the breed)- Yes, definitely, it flew off! You could still work and work. There is no such thing as too much money. And now you’ll be on one pension!
“I’ve already sat down,” the husband answered. Don't be distracted, Stas, you'll miss the queen... And don't let my pension bother you.
- You are a pensioner, your wife is retired, how are you going to live?
“If you knew the size of my pension, Stas, your eyes would pop out of your head!” I thought, “they would pop out of envy.”In the last one and a half to two years, chess has literally absorbed my husband, although in the recent past he was not interested in it at all. But one day my sister-in-law and her husband were visiting us. Varvara is a woman of fire, and her husband, Fyodor, is a sad guy, he was always solving chess problems. Fedka slipped one of them to my husband, probably hoping to shame him. It didn’t work out to shame, Ivan quite easily figured out the intricacy of the figures and solved the problem, which incredibly surprised Fedor. But most of all, the husband surprised himself. That evening he shone like a polished samovar. Pride literally burst through him! Since then, chess has entered our lives.Right after my husband retired, we decided to renovate our old house. We had one like this in one of the urban villages. In that village, the administration was headed by my nephew, the son of my older sister, Pasha, now Pavel Andreevich. We don’t do it very often, rather the opposite. This is due to his wife, Polina. Still a bitch. She doesn't really like us. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but my sister told me about this in great confidence; lately Polina has begun to put a lot of money on her collar. These are the pies... Well, okay, let's talk about our monastery.
The house was large, if not enormous. It was a cottage for two owners. Then my parents bought it out completely and now it is my inheritance, since my husband and I live in a civil marriage. We spent part of our vacations here and came on weekends. The condition of the house can be briefly described - deep scoop. We had considerable savings. And we decided to allocate some of them for repairs. We hired a team of craftsmen. The brigade is of course too pretentious. There were three of them. The eldest of them, about thirty, was the leader of their team. Short-haired, strong blond. The luxurious earring in his right ear was striking.“
-Lesha,” the young man introduced himself.
