I accidentally found these leaflets in the table of our audience, to whom they could belong - I do not know, but they seemed curious.

“I do not sleep again this night and write in my confessional. My lover is engaged in pornography. My lover writes vile stories in which he exposes me in the most unsightly way. I was always surprised to see how white his eyes are when he enters me. On his chest grow dark curly hair. He whispers in my ear dirty words when we indulge in love, gives insane promises that will never keep - about all the cities where we will ever be. My unbridled lover declares that he no longer intends to share me with her husband. He violates our long-standing agreement and this deeply insults me. He is unpredictable. It is impossible to predict what he will say or do in the next minute - with me or with my unsuspecting husband.

When my lover loves me, he puts me on the bed or, more often, because of the unsuccessful nature of our secret meetings, on the floor. He picks up my buttocks with his palms and slightly lifts them, bringing him closer to his mouth. He gently and gently pushes my lower lips, removes moist curls and kisses the outer folds of the genitals. He pulls time. He is not in a hurry. He skillfully teases me. He knows every inch of my body and dances his light fandango. He divides my genitalia into dozens of separate parts and knows how to properly name and caress each of them. Pubis. Big lips. Small lips. Folds. Clitoris. The walls. Vagina. Cervix. Whole alphabet. Where did he learn this? His tongue touches my clitoris, he pinches this tiny bud between his lips. He kisses, licks, sucks and bites my flesh. He tastes my intimate secretion and never objects. I know how I smell there. He sniffs me and smiles. He is sweating, and I revel in his pungent smell. Enough, now log in. And his fat, dark cock is immersed in me. Lover sucks my earlobes. Licks tart sweat in the armpits. He is completely free from shame.

Making love to me, my lover slowly moves his finger along the hollow between my buttocks, lingering on a tiny ledge of flesh, resembling a flower. We copulate, his finger moves, slides, trembles, spins in me, warmly covers my stomach, and I feel the urge to urinate on him when we move together convulsively, and my head is pounding on the back of the bed or the wall of the office.

After love, we chat. And he scares me again. We share crackers and gravy in the dark. One day he brought sushi. Then we fuck again. Like animals. And more, and again. He is insatiable. We forget about everything. I do not want to go home.

When I last saw my lover, it was raining, my hair stuck together, and he was holding a huge umbrella over his head. I screamed, scolded him. He answered very shortly, handed me a letter and went into the rain. Peace is all he asked. How can you, I thought. But my lover sometimes forgets about propriety. This is a wild, dark-haired man. My former lover who infuriates me so much that once I tried to hire street thugs to break his legs. Looks like I’ve been reading detectives. ”