A Life Imbued with Lies

I spoke intelligently enough, culturally, without swearing or shouting, but rather harshly and understandably.

In response, he started talking some nonsense. "Boy, I understand perfectly well. It's not what you think. I myself have..."

He mumbled something else, but I did not listen, especially since it was clear that it was not profitable for him to ring out about his affair. So, I turned and left.

I wanted to find out more about this macho Max. With him I would not be soft, and just hit him in the face. But the bastard vanished into thin air. Apparently, he somehow found out that I knew everything and decided to lay low, but I'll still get my hands on him someday.

It would be nice to meet and talk to the guy at the exhibition, but the poor guy probably did not know that she was married, though I still do not like him.

Well, and lastly, I had to have a peaceful conversation with my 'beloved'. Not fraying her nerves, not persecuting her for these cases, not even morally punishing her, but simply out of a desire to understand.

Our relationship was slowly getting better, even intimacy was back, but a serious conversation could not be avoided.

"Look, I'm not going to leave you. I've already forgiven you (at least I let her think so). In spite of everything, I love you very much (and this is the pure truth, pardon, but it's beyond me). But let's talk without screaming, without crying, without wailing, without self-deprecation, without swearing that it will never happen again. No images of remorse, just explain what was wrong with me. Maybe I was doing something wrong, maybe I wasn't giving you enough attention, maybe I wasn't giving you something in intimacy, and you were getting it on the side. If it's my fault, don't be afraid to show it. I just want to understand how it is possible to love one person, respect him, say 'I love you', and at the same time cheat on him?"

I tried to build a dialogue with my wife; naturally, politely, culturally, without pressure, without bigotry, as gently and constructively as possible. Well, here they are, the answers:

"You know, you are so familiar to me, dear, loved, one might say, a part of me, and I love you more than life, but I wanted some novelty, variety. I was not looking for a replacement for you, and I did not want to humiliate you in any way, on the contrary, I felt terrible guilt towards you every time after I cheated on you, and this guilt made my love for you even stronger. After cheating I wanted to make amends, both in bed and in life. And it is even possible that in this way, I was trying not to let the usual routine and everyday life eat away at our relationship."

Of course, it is hard for me to understand such things, very hard. Apparently, I am not strong in modern psychology of relationships, but I decided to try to figure it all out.

But I also had a second question: "Okay, I understand, this Max - handsome, macho, young, could not resist, everything is possible, but what did you find in Naumych? After all, he's old, bald, with a belly and a gray mustache! If I were a girl, I wouldn't sit at the same table with him. Was it money? But I earn enough, we haven't felt the need for anything for a long time."

"Kostya, you are my love, money has nothing to do with it. Rather, he took me with his charm, his beautiful courtship, his good speeches..."

And why do we men think that if a young beautiful woman liked a man much older than her, it means that she fell exclusively for the money? That's our mistaken belief.

I saw how scared she was when I told her that I had met him, but I reassured her by saying that I just asked him to stay away from my family, otherwise I would give him a miserable life.

That's how the conversation went.

A lot of people now think that I am a fool for having forgiven and forgotten. Now I will relax and soon will get another surprizes again. But no! I haven't forgotten anything. This is just a temporary truce. A frozen conflict, so to speak. She is waiting for my baby, so now all the attention and care go to her. Then... let's see what will come of it.

Angelina

I promised Kostya to describe everything that happened from my point of view. But I don't know where to begin. Right now, I'm disgusted with myself for what I did. I just imagined that Kostya would act the same way I did, and immediately I didn't want to live. Where did all this come from?

***

For as long as I can remember, I have always been loved and praised. 'Who's so beautiful?' And 'who has such silky hair?' And 'whose cheeks are those dimples?' This and many other things I was used to hearing from my childhood. I was a late child of my parents; my mother did not want to spoil her figure, but then gave in to my father's entreaties, so there I was, and I was always spoiled.

I became interested in my own body early on, probably after the boys and I showed each other 'silly things' in kindergarten, and I first discovered that girls differ from boys in something down there. However, at that time it did not occupy my mind too much, but in high school, when we and the girls were sharing the information that we had gathered from everywhere, including the Internet, I became seriously interested in what I had inside, and why I had such a hole, which the guys do not have. And when I got there by finger, I had some strange feelings, especially when I found an elastic barrier in the depths. Unfortunately, no one told me then or afterwards what a hymen was and what it was for.

I was used to the admiring attention to myself and considered it the order of the day. I grew up, without false modesty, really beautiful, and I always had suitors. Even in the second grade, Vovka Seleznev, who was always tugging me by the plait, pushing me with his shoulder, running past me, or spitting chewed paper at me through a tube, somehow threw me a note on my desk. Unfortunately, Violetta Leonidovna, our homeroom teacher, noticed it and managed to intercept it, and then loudly read out the contents to everyone: 'I beat you sinse I love you'. The whole class laughed. Me, too. Somewhere in the back of my mind, though, I liked it. And oh, how envious all the girls were of me, even though Violetta pointed out Vovka's complete illiteracy.

I started growing up early: at the age of eleven I already had armpit and groin hair, and my breasts began to swell, soon approaching size number one. But even that was something at the time. I began to "be friends" with boys, though, from an older class, for two or three years older. At that age, their sex drive was already beginning to form. It is clear that they had no experience, but the desire to cuddle out and lick had already appeared. One of them and I, under the influence of information from the Internet, started petting and he licked my down abdomen and I sucked his dick, which was starting to grow, and I sucked it until a murky trickle spurted out of it. Not being prepared for this, I spit it all out, while Seryozha was in the seventh heaven, sitting there with such a silly face that I laughed and even stopped being mad at him. I didn't realize at the time that he didn't do it on purpose, and I thought he was peeing.

But I really liked his licking there, and then I purposefully led the boys to do it, even if I had to suck their dick in return.

About seventh grade, I started menstruating. I was really scared, thinking that it was the result of boys licking there, but my mother, who noticed the bloody panties, explained to me the beginning of the physiology of sex and what I should do in case of bleeding. And that it meant that I was growing up. I really wanted to be an adult, but I didn't really know what that meant until one day Vitya, my best friend Karolina's brother, when we were at the cottage with our families, explained that to become an adult was to lose my virginity, and then I could fuck for real.

It is clear that by this time, thanks to the Internet, I already knew what it meant to fuck, and that this process was very pleasant for a girl, although exactly how to do it was not completely clear. There, in the dacha, Vitya, who was four years older than me and Caroline, somehow got drunk with some friends and came home in the evening, staggering, and afterwards, suggested that I, as he said, "grow up" and become a woman. I really wanted to grow up, but I didn't understand what it meant to become a woman. Vitek dragged me into the bathhouse, where he licked me "there" for a long time to begin with, and when I felt quite good, he suddenly stuck something inside me. I thought at first it was a finger, and pressing down hard, he tore my hymen. Only at that moment did I realize that it was not a finger, because both of his arms were around me, and something was moving inside...

I must say that I felt almost no pain, as well as the described unearthly bliss, as something warm slid back and forth inside me, but I was overwhelmed with pride that I had become an adult, surpassing all the girls in my class, and even Caroline. Sometime later, Vitya, panting like a steam engine, suddenly twitched and moaned, and something hot spurted inside, as it seemed to me, and he collapsed on top of me. And then it hit me!

"Fool!" I screamed. "Did you come inside me? What if it'll be a baby?!"

Vitya shrugged his head guiltily, stood up, and mumbled, "Come on, if anything, we'll get married..."

"No way, I don't need you. And in general, I'm too young to become a mother. Next time - only with a condom."

Vitek, clearly delighted that there would be a next time, readily agreed. I washed my face as best I could, trying to wash everything from the inside out, and we left the bathhouse as if nothing had happened.

Naturally, the next day I bragged to Caroline that I had "become an adult," and she immediately rushed to my brother to convince him to make her an adult, too. It didn't take long to convince him, and that same evening all three of us gathered in the bathhouse, where Vityka tore his sister's cherry off. But she was in pain, and continuing to move inside her was out of the question, so I mercifully allowed him to move inside me, though I made him pull on the condom.

Again, I felt nothing but pride in front of my best friend for being able to please an adult, which I thought was a seventeen-year-old boy. I still remember Caroline's envious look at us fucking...

From then on until the end of the summer at the cottage the three of us did "it" almost every day, of course with the use of condoms, which Witek was happy to buy in large quantities. I must say that at the end, I was beginning to feel the pleasure of his cock sliding inside me. Obviously not as pleasant as an adult, but still. Either it was result of just time, or Witek had learned something.

Ask me, how do I know what it's like as an adult? Yes, a couple of years ago, I woke up at a bad time and caught my parents doing this very thing, and the bedroom door was inadvertently ajar, and I saw Mom lying on her back in bed, moaning and breathing heavily, while between her legs moved Dad's ass, and he was also breathing noisily and sometimes moaning. Then, at one point, he sped up so that the slaps of the colliding bodies began to resemble machine-gun fire, twitched, like Witek did on me then, and Mom howled, and then they both collapsed and lay there, whispering and giggling. After that, though, the door was always closed, and I never managed to watch them again, though I tried.

Further, about a year later, one day, when I escaped from class, I hid in a storeroom and accidentally fell asleep, waking up to strange noises, like someone breathing heavily and moaning, with something creaking. The storeroom was across the wall from the head teacher's office, and my mother was just working at our school as a head teacher. And it turned out that there was a knot in the wooden partition, which fell out, and through the remaining hole I saw my mother with her skirt up her ass in a lap position on the couch, and behind her was a gym teacher, a pumped-up and, as I thought then, old guy, in fact, about thirty. And the gym teacher was knocking by his belly into my mom's ass, gripping her hips.

My breath hitched, and my heart thundered somewhere in my throat, and a heaviness appeared in my lower abdomen. After a while my mother's moans turned into a low howl, and the gym teacher growled hoarsely, pressed himself tightly against my mother's ass, twitched a few times, and fell down on her, and she, too, somehow moaned and twitched under him.

I rushed out of the storeroom all red, frightened, and ran to the bathroom because I had to pee so badly.

I'd noticed before that my mom meets with some men when my dad isn't around. She was getting a ride in the car, or getting flowers. Actually, flowers were nothing special for the head mistress, but there were also different gifts, which she hid at home from Dad, and I found. There was a brooch, earrings, two rings and a chain. All made of gold, sometimes with stones. When I found them, I tried them on, and imagined that someday I would be given them too.

But it didn't last long, that year my father caught her with her lover and left, packing up his things. I remember it was a shock to me. I had no idea that my mother's innocent fun could lead to this. I mean, really, what's the big deal, a guy moves around a little inside you? And Mom loved Dad. And she proved that by bringing him back into the family after a while. I overheard them talking about it once when I was visiting Dad while he was gone, in his rented apartment and fell asleep in the bedroom there. When I woke up late, I heard the conversation in whispers from the living room.

"Lyosha, but I really love you."

"Yeah, and that's why you fuck others, isn't it?"

"Honey, there were only a few times. But I never thought about leaving you. What happened was just sex, not love. It was just for my health."

"For you maybe, but for me it feels like a betrayal. Imagine it was me who was fucking on the side."

Mom was quiet, and then she let it out:

"I can't say I'd like it, but if that's all it is, I can take it. Do you already have someone?"

"What an idiot! I don't have anyone; while you've already fucked a dozen."

"What are you talking about? What dozen?"

"How many lovers have you had?"

Mom was quiet again.

"Why do you want to know? You'll always remind me of it, won't you?"

"Tell me straight out, how much? If you don't tell me, then why did you even start this conversation in the first place? Let's just divorce and that's it. Live your life however you want and fuck as much as you want and with whomever you want. Just don't try to lie. I've already checked some things, and I'll know right away if you lie."

Mom tried a few more times to dodge it, but finally reluctantly confessed:

"Five."

"Five what? Five times or five men?"

"Five lovers."

"Do I know them?"

"Some of them, yes."

"How long ago did you start?"

"Well, remember when we went to your village for your sister's wedding, four years ago?"

"So?"

"Well, you got drunk, and I got a little drunk, too. That's when the groom's witness helped me get you into bed, and he started hitting on me. And I already wanted it so much... I wanted to be with you, but you... So he... he helped..."

"He did, huh? Ninka was hitting on me, too. But I didn't go with her."

"What? That bitch?! She molested you?! If I had known, I would have scratched her eyes out!... And she is calling herself my friend..."

"Well, well, why do you better than her? You had real sex with the witness."

"So? He's single!"

"But you're not a single. Did you like it very much? Did he have more?"

"I don't really remember. I just wanted it so badly that I felt a tingle in my lower belly, and I was afraid something might happen bad. So I let it happen... But you're better than him, he just stuck it in there, fucked me a little bit and then jismed. I didn't even have enough time to cum, so I had to finish myself."

"What?! He cum in you? How could you let do that?! What if it's a baby?!"

"Honey, what baby? Have you forgotten that I'm on the pill? And anyway, I'm only having children with you, it's my principle, otherwise it's not a family."

"She has a principle, ha-ha! I wish you weren't fucking on the side!!" Daddy raised his voice, but then they realized I was right behind the wall and shut up."

I didn't hear anything else, but I firmly remembered that I could only have children with my husband.

A couple of weeks later, Dad came back to the family. I didn't really know what he and Mom had agreed on, but I understood that as an indulgence, Dad was allowed to have occasional flings with others. I don't know if Mom had the same permission, but it seemed to me that sometimes she did allow herself to go out. But that's inaccurate.

***

My life, on the other hand, was booming. All four years of high school and freshman year, until Kostya and I got married, I used my body for pleasure, making sure that I was always protected if anything more than just petting happened. Gradually I realized what my body needed in order to get maximum pleasure, and I learned to guide the men I had an affair with so that they would provide it. And I got so caught up in the taste that, even when I started living with Kostya, I always lacked something.

No, he was gentle, always gave me flowers, made sure that I felt good, including in bed. And I felt better with him, perhaps, than with anyone else before him. But my habit of variety, and I had tried different cocks by then, and they all felt and gave me pleasure in different ways, kept me going.

When I was in my second year, we had a baby girl, a big one, three and a half kilos. My husband offered to name her Angelica, she was like an angel: blue eyes, and smile, such a tender smile, despite the lack of teeth. Fortunately, I had enough milk to feed her, so we avoided all these problems with diathesis, as, say, my friends. Unfortunately, that had some effect on my breasts, although my husband assured me that he liked the slight sagging and even that it turned him on. They say this is the form of breast that makes me a woman, a desirable woman. But I remembered what kind of breasts I had before. Maybe this is what pushed me to look for confirmation of my husband's words.

Almost immediately after childbirth, I began to work on my body, and despite the lack of time, since I continued to study without having a degree, still found a way to occasionally go to a fitness center, thanks to my husband's salary which by that time allowed it. So my body quickly got into shape, although it remained somewhat rounded, not as chiseled as it had been before the pregnancy. But my husband said he liked it, and I preferred to believe him.

After graduating from university, I immediately got a job as an accountant at the Sibir Transport Company, after which it was finally possible to call our financial situation stable, and we were even able to hire an assistant to take care of our daughter. Even there I continued to go to the fitness club, but now close to work. It's convenient. You take your gym bag with your uniform and clean underwear to work, and they give you towels at the club. That's where I met the trainer Max, who reminded me of an Italian: slightly curly hair, a firm straight nose, and very fast speech and gesticulation. Well, he looked like Marcello Mastroianni in his youth. They called him "Marcello" in the club, and they laughed at that, but I never understood why.

By this time, the celibacy I had maintained, I mean, all business with my husband alone, was already very stressful. So, Max's flirtations with me were received rather favorably. He kept suggesting that after workouts we go to the fitness bar, drink juice or an energy drink, sit and chat, and once offered to give me a massage.