I met a maniac, a very rude man in bed. We were madly in love with each other.

Manns, the enemy of my boyfriend, was a copy of him in conversation, movements, in everything except his appearance, but more gentle than mine. He was massaging my shoulders, hugging my waist, sticking hands under a sweater, it was all so sexy and happening in front of our friends celebrating the New Year. Then we didn’t sleep, but only sucked all night, he called me to sleep over, but I was afraid of further copulation, because it meant cheating, in the end we stayed overnight (it was summer).

A few months have passed since that incident, and it seemed that the light incident was forgotten. But there is something that no one believes in me. I'm talking about physical intimacy ... one touch of the person you want excites much more than the standard mating mechanism itself, or even the idea of ​​it. I don’t want to fuck with many people, I only need a couple of minutes of pressing each other out of them - just hold hands, talk about sex, maybe sit on his lap, but no more. And from this I literally reach orgasm. In these moments of such physical closeness, one can give everything. After six months, I could not stand it and called him.

- Manns, Tanya is bothering you. Do you remember me (we only met once when we met, and that evening and ... didn’t sleep, but how to say it. Well, you understand).

- Yes. (His voice was slightly frightened and malevolent. On that occasion, he got pizdyuley from several people because of me)

Needless to say, he already had so much peretrahal in his life of the women, so he was absolutely confused with me for him, I bet he didn't mean anything. But my hope that everything is not so, did not fade.

“Manns, I want to meet you.” Do you have time this week? I need to talk to you.

- Right now ... Yes, on Friday. When do you want to meet? Maybe you come to me?

“Well, I don’t know where you live.”

- I will meet you in the center of the hall, Kaluzhskaya metro station.

We met. He has changed a lot in appearance, but so have I. I got better.

At home he gave me tea and, while I drank it, asked what I wanted to talk about.

“Listen, I can't do this anymore.” Something happens to me. I dream about you every day. I want you.

He began stroking my leg.

“Are you still dating *?”

- Yes, we got married.

- I see ... You want me, you say?

All this he did not say at all as if he wanted me terribly. Rather, on the contrary, he obviously teased me, but it was obvious that he would not have refused if I had offered something like that.

- The fact is that I do not mean sexual intercourse. Can you not remove your hand from my leg? I am not excited by the prospect of fucking me like a lustful bitch. Changes if it makes my favorite husband. I also madly want you, as I love him. I need an affinity from you, I can fuck me with current when you touch me. I am turned on by your low voice, your movements, manner of speaking, gait ...

But it is completely unpleasant for me to imagine how you, for example, put me on cancer.

- You are not frigid? - He asked. - Although, no, what I mean. I understand exactly what u mean. Could I just popris to you? I like it myself.

I came home from him in the evening. Husband tried to cook something in the kitchen. I did not cheat on him, but I felt as if a company of soldiers had torn off me. I was ashamed, ashamed to look into his eyes. I went to bed early that evening, after getting drunk. Manns left me his phone if I needed anything. I don't want to see him anymore. I received from him what I needed. His energy.