Outside, twilight was gathering rapidly. The shadow of an open bottle of wine shook nervously in the rocking light of my two bright red candles tied with silk ribbons. The wine in the glass in my hand slowly rotated, leaving pink drips on the walls. The phone on the table was silent. And I hated him for this silence.

Today is our anniversary. Exactly three years, as we are together. And I already mark her alone.

He called three hours ago, said that he was already going. I know - on the way he needs no less than an hour, so without losing a single minute, I rushed to dress up. Of course, my outfit has long been prepared and thought out to the smallest detail, of course, I could only put it on and make up. I waited only for his call ...

Tightening the corset required a little more time than expected, but I still managed to meet the deadline. An hour after his call, I was already dressed ... more precisely, stripped. Dark red corset with laces and silk lacing on the sides, which favorably emphasized the bare breasts, small bright red panties with a heart in the most interesting place and almost black silk robe, transparent and short just enough to hint that I am not completely dressed under it , but not to give a final answer to the question, what exactly is missing.

An hour later, he did not come.

I called, but he did not answer. The second call also ended with long beeps. In response to the third, I received a short biting: “I'm going” and short beeps. All the others met the dry machine one every ten minutes: “The subscriber is out of network coverage ...”

What thoughts arise in the female head in such circumstances, I think, it is not worth telling.

After the second hour of fruitless waiting, I took the first bottle of wine out of the fridge. It was his favorite fortified.

I swallowed the first glass through force. The second went a little easier and to my surprise brought calm. The third one went flying like clockwork. And when it started to get dark, I lit the candles.

Against my expectations, the first bottle was not bottomless, so soon the second was brought from the balcony - already with my favorite martini.

The third was the red "rusk", which I frankly choked ...

Suddenly the silence of the empty apartment was broken by the sound of the doorbell.

The annoying trenk repeated three times before I realized that I should open the door.

Staggering and clutching at the walls (however, this “rusk” gave me a good head!) I went to the door and opened it without questions and looking into the peephole.

On the threshold stood an unfamiliar hefty peasant with an armful of red roses. The light from the drive light shone right into my eyes, which after the twilight in the kitchen was quite painful, and made it difficult to see the face of my guest. He eloquently turned his head from top to bottom, just lingering over the chest, and only then I remembered that my robe was not tied. I felt somehow even embarrassed, and I tried to tie a belt with my left hand, as I still had a glass of wine in my right.

- Inna Sergeyevna? - the man muzzled.

I nodded timidly, still fighting the naughty belt.

He silently handed me flowers, turned around and headed for the stairs. The belt slid to the floor.

I slammed the door and suddenly noticed a small white rectangle. His heart beat beating so that's why he lingered! Oh, how I love him! Oh, what a clever he is!

The flowers followed the girdle, and I, holding the coveted cardboard with both hands (and a glass? I dropped it, or what? And what a difference!), I ran into the kitchen. The candles had already burned down to half and gave quite enough light so that I could read the note without turning on the lamp.

“Dear Inna Sergeyevna,” read a note written in a neat, even elegant handwriting, “I have long been dreaming of meeting you, and today I had the opportunity. Be so kind as to look out the window. ”

Under the window stood a black car, flashing a polished body in the light of the lanterns, and a man in a dark coat was standing near her front door. He pressed his hand to his ear, and I realized that he had called only when he buzzed and flashed my phone on the table.

- Inna Sergeyevna, - what a soft voice! It purrs directly, but does not say ... - Get dressed and go out.

- W ... why? - the tongue braids. What a shame ... Oh, and even at the window, yes in this form ... But the voice ...

- See ... - and short beeps.

Well, since my faithful decided to leave me hungry on such a day, I would not be wasted my mood! Of course, I will not go to negligee, but I will not change too much ...

My wardrobe, as, by the way, the wardrobe, probably, of any woman of any age and wealth, is a zone of despair and a reason for tears. And it doesn’t matter at all whether the half dress hanging from grandmother’s sheets and curtains, or the entire latest collection of some kind of super-duper designer hangs in it. The question: "What to wear?" Inevitably follows in response: "Nothing to wear."

These jeans make me look fat ... This blouse has long gone out of fashion - oh, and why didn’t I throw it away before? ... This dress ... in it I also went to the prom! ... And it’s time to put this skirt on rags ... Oh, quite a pretty blouse ... but, no, not a blouse, but a pajama ... And this one? Pretty little ... but absolutely not that ...

Having turned over my closet from top to bottom, looking even on the shelf of my beloved one, I, of course, found something more or less suitable for the occasion, but rather less than more. Moderately modest, moderately short, moderately gloomy dark gray dress with a large black silk bow around the neck. Previously, it hung on me, as if on a hanger, therefore, apparently, it was not so worn out as his age required. I pulled it right over the corset, not caring to put on a bra, although her nipples, barely touched by the soft wool of the knitwear, immediately stood on end. Let looks and licked ...

Makeup also had a little touch up ...

In general, the training took about forty minutes.

When I finally got out, my mysterious admirer was still standing near the car, despite the fact that it started to rain.

“Please,” he gallantly opened the door for me.

- Maybe even introduce yourself? - oh yes, I decided to talk to him as if I was terribly annoyed. Withstand - great, no - well, good riddance ...

And yes, I was a little sober until she was going to ...

He sat down next to me and nodded to the driver.

I crossed my arms over my chest and turned away to the window.

“Nikolai,” his hand shamelessly lay on my knee and crawled under the skirt.

I disdainfully dropped it, although I noted to myself how soft the skin was on his palm.

“Very nice,” I pursed my lips.

“Mutually,” his hand remained lying where I threw it away — next to my leg.

- Champagne? - he suddenly swung forward and removed a characteristic bottle of green glass from somewhere characteristic.

- I do not drink champagne, - I muttered, noting to myself that the bottle, though standard, but the label is very elite. And in the mouth immediately appeared taste - a little bit tart, sweet with sourness with a taste of raisins and the smell of a summer night ...

“Well, whatever you want ...” He opened the bottle and quickly filled two glasses.

I involuntarily licked my lips.

- Where are we going? - so, but where did the irritation from the voice go?

He handed me a glass.

- In a restaurant...

I wanted to say something, but I choked and automatically took a sip from my glass ... Yes, that was it ...

He contemptuously called the restaurant the most luxurious establishment in our city. In fact, this is an entire entertainment complex - a casino, a nightclub, a sauna, two European and Japanese restaurants, and another club-restaurant on a steamboat moored right there at the pier. And he took me immediately to the ship.

Honestly, I had only heard about this place from my girlfriends before. Read about it on the Internet. Droiled saliva on photos of dishes and interiors, on the dresses of women who came here, on the abundance ...