Sometimes I stop feeling like a man, a woman. Once I was told that I could not have children. This thought was supposed to destroy me or give a different impulse. I will not dwell on tears and a keen sense of inferiority, I would rather say that the absence of fear of conception freed me of sensuality. And some evil, merciless and impetuous. I have lost pity for men, they have lost value for me in the sense that they can help bestow life, now it has lost its meaning. There was simply greediness for the pleasures that they could give, while trying, of course. Such coldness towards people makes me very strong, I do not take into account their experiences, only if I need to use them. What will happen next when I get older or further - beyond the limits of life? Such thoughts visited me, but the sensual flow was stronger, I drove them away, because what I had now allowed me to satisfy the most acute desires.

Katya, yes, her name was Katya. I studied with her once, then we did not communicate, but later, our paths crossed, and we somehow became closer. Something I attracted her, although women do not know friendship. So, more or less, comfortable communication, gossip, little help to each other. But for men, friendship is much more, first of all, a joint action, they are very nervous about its manifestations.

I would not say that she was very beautiful, although these words can be said about everyone, with the exception of Venus of Miles. With a smile, her upper lip was somehow fascinatingly turned up, it is difficult to explain, it is necessary to see, it is very unusual and somehow appealing, the men immediately pecked at it. And in general, in her small figure something was concealed from a child who wanted to patronize.

She married, stayed at home, and I began to visit her often. For hours, she could talk about cosmetics, things that were not worth such long conversations. Only by sitting on a dependent of her husband could one fill his life with such junk, but by this she showed me a lack of care, an idle carelessness, which I did not have.

- You had a lot of men, before your husband - somehow tired, I decided to take the bull by the horns.

- No, one.

"Well, stupid," - flashed through my head. I presented her lethargy and a lot of all kinds of “I do not want and do not need”, with which she furnished sex. Of course, this cannot be said with certainty, but judging by some of its sluggish movements, its slowness, but it seemed to me so. I had the idea to seduce her husband, although I did not see him even once. What for? I do not know, just like that. For the sake of her confidence in her feminine strength and her weakness. For the sake of the victory of my desire over her charm. For the fact that no lapdog can not be equal to the bitch. This thought made me laugh. It turned out that I was a pooch behind whom she was running, having buried her noses under her tail, a pack of scavenging males, but let it not matter. Her fate was decided, although she did not suspect anything about it. And I did not doubt myself.

“You said you'd have to sit at the weekend at home?”

- Yes, I said - I said as sadly as possible.

- Let's go to the country to us. Leonid did a lot of things there - for some reason she called him so solemnly - a pool, a sauna, the air is very useful ... You can sunbathe. There are many rooms, they are all empty. There is a fireplace there, the truth is hot now and, probably, it should not be kindled.

“It’s not worth it,” she thought: “A lot of rooms are good.” - Not very comfortable. I do not know your husband.

- Nothing, he will not have much to do with you.

These words made me angry, but I didn’t say anything.

A few days later I was in the country. As I expected, it was a standard vulgarity behind a huge fence. And, of course, the owners thought that they did everything especially, not like the neighbors. But since most of the imagination is missing completely, they simply repeat what they see in others, thinking that they are innovating in design. In fact, they are guided by only one cruising thought - “What would have been like everyone else!”, However, they do not give a report to themselves about this. I do not want to describe a series of tedious similarities; turrets for a hint of a castle, a huge fireplace in the main hall near which you are supposed to talk about the meaning of life in winter evenings. I suddenly wanted to destroy this petty-bourgeois little world, just for the love of destruction, to feel like Shiva, sweeping the worlds created by other gods. However, I have been craving to break other people's kuliki since childhood. Autumn has already made itself felt, although it was still very warm. It was hot in pantyhose, but I wanted so much the density of the legs, their visual resilience for men. I wore them, knowing that it is important. I put on a short dress, tight fitting, dark blue, something I should have left for myself, and not for male pleasure. I have to admit that my chest is not attractive, I had to use a special bra that helps to mislead and increase the volume.

My friend introduced her husband when we were getting into the car, Leonid. I called my name and stretched my hand palm down while trying to catch his eye. By his reaction, I had to understand if I had any chances. He looked at me briefly and immediately looked away. “There are chances, I'm in his taste,” I immediately noted his efforts to hide it from my wife. It was getting dark, in the early twilight the lights of the lanterns still didn’t tear up the space, the coherence and overflow of forms are still discernible: trees, bushes, roofs of neighboring houses.

- Let's go to the house, light a fireplace - Katya twittered Katya

- It's hot - answered Leonid

- No, we will light up - she was capricious.

I decided to give a sign to him and supported the idea of ​​the fireplace not to light.

“Okay,” Katya suddenly agreed, but then we drink right away.

The house had a lot of paintings by artists of the era of failed communism. The works are good, large, apparently written for houses of culture or something like that. It seemed that the authors were pursued by the idea of ​​fix not to reduce the color gamut only to the notorious shades of gray, apparently because reality was pressing on them. The ashen workers peered at the red fire of the smelting furnace. Sizaya heroine of socialist labor folded her heavy, as if numbed hands on her knees. All faces and postures felt tired, even if they were smiling. However, it only seemed so to me. Although outside the lobby of the district club of the 70s of the last century, they looked strange, very alien. For some reason, the owners liked this aesthetics, but it is possible that they simply were advised by someone as a demonstration of their sophistication. I listened to Leonid's short lecture on the value of these works. At times I glanced at his lips, showing that he was interested in me, not social realism.

Wine appeared. We sat on the couches. I tried to sit next to a friend so that she did not see me, and on the contrary, Leonid saw well. The conversation continued. I knew my strength, I saw that my dress was hiked up too much, I saw that he was keeping his eyes on the dusk between my legs for a second. As we got drunk, he stopped at my eyes longer, was ready to endure my defiant gaze, I even arched my back, exposing my chest. Katya was telling something about neighbors who envy them. Already drank coffee twice. I understood that I was delivering myself more and more, I could no longer stop and was ready to give him at least in the toilet.

But, surprisingly, he did not make any impression on me, either as a man or as a person. So the usual snob, even slightly frightened by the money that fell on him.I got the situation itself, the severity. Seducing him in front of his wife, stand it or not. What will win - loyalty or lust, my beauty or hers? The very physiology of sex is simple, the most subtle in it is the situation in which the female competition arises. A woman is a harem creature, she will reach for the man to whom other women are drawn, but she always takes the hope of being beloved wife ...