What a pity that under the terms of the conspiracy I can’t reveal to you the names of my hometown, I can’t fully describe its wide avenues and narrow streets, ancient stone churches and glass cubes of modern offices, coolness near fountains and the heat of pompous squares, equestrian statues waving great swords commanders and monuments to great sages immersed in parchment manuscripts. I cannot name the true names of those women with whom I had the pleasure of being close at that time, let them be Anna, Galya and Marina in accord with the names and first letters.

ANNA. BACKGROUND.

I will start with Anna not for the reason that her name begins with the first letter of the alphabet, but because of the chronology. My first acquaintance with it, both virtual via the Internet, and real-intimate, happened about a year before the events described. And it happened before the banal is simple, but for some advocates of high morality - just awful. Anna was a prostitute. And looking around the dating site in search of a one-time partner, among the abundance of profiles with a pink frame, exposed photos of seductive beauties, and an average age of up to 25 years, the white crow was her profile: no photo, as brief and businesslike (no verbal tinsel like “charming the lady will brighten up the evening to a lonely man ”), and exactly my age is exactly 40 years old.

Wrote to her. I received a reasonable and balanced response, listing what it does and does not do, with an indication of the prices for each type of service separately and in aggregate, for which there are extra charges and discounts. Judging by the volume of the message sent, it was not written right there in response to my “hello, how about to meet?”, But was created earlier taking into account all sorts of questions from clients and their needs, and was copied and pasted with the goal of rational organization of labor.

I indicate to her in a reply message which items interest me, I inform about the acceptability of the price, ask if we can see today (and preferably during the day, but it is possible in the evening as an emergency), because tomorrow I have a very busy day, and the day after tomorrow I leave.

He definitely refuses to meet in the afternoon, and the reason is “I work, and I can’t just take time off”. I like this, therefore, not a professional, earning only prostitution, and loving only money in the process of sex. He doesn’t say exactly “yes” or “no” about the evening, asks for my phone number (and immediately informs his), promises to specify his evening schedule before the end of the working day and tell me if the meeting will take place. Also very original and not like the answers of other whores who are ready to instantly go where they say (or invite you to themselves) at any time, days and nights.

Well, okay, I say to her "agreed, I will wait for the call, bye!", I put her number on my phone, and start looking through other forms. I do not find anything acceptable, either they call prices biting, or there are too many restrictions, I also get distracted by a couple of business calls, in general, there comes a time without one minute and 18 hours.

My mobile is ringing. Even without looking at the phone screen, I understand that this is Anna. Pleasant such a woman's voice, very polite and cultural, without artificial languor and ostentatious sexuality, greets, specifies whether I am DD; aha very nice, and I am Anna, remember me; yes of course I remember; So I found out that my evening is free and we can meet if you have not changed your mind; no, did not change my mind where and when?

Another passage. Anna tells me that she firstly meets with men in a neutral public place, in a cafe most often to have a word or two, visually, make sure they are not real friends, and then decide whether to continue or not .In the cafe she can pay for herself, and reserves the right to refuse to continue the meeting if she does not like the man. In the same way, she will not be offended if I refuse to continue, especially considering her age and non-supermodel appearance. She apologizes in advance for the time taken away from me, if there is no continuation after the cafe, but she cannot do otherwise, the condition of a preliminary meeting is necessary.

Hmmm, already funny! But I didn’t fascinate prostitutes in a cafe to persuade to sex for my own money. Of course, the way partners in my bed most often went in exactly this way (acquaintance on the Internet, long or short communication, meeting in a cafe, solitude), but it should be noted that there were a number of women with whom there was no visit to the cafe (someone I wanted the husband’s wife to be seen in a crowded place with a foreign man; someone knew through communication that sex was inevitable, and why postpone it, someone agreed to replace food services with purchased food and drinks). And these are ordinary women, my partners, lovers, friends, not prostitutes. It's funny why this Anna puts herself so high and behaves in such an unusual way for a prostitute? Must see interesting.

I say that I agree, we clarify who is in what part of the city, and make an appointment at 19 o'clock in a famous cafe near a monument to a famous poet. I was a little late, to be honest, not on my own, and not intentionally, just the end of the working day, inevitable traffic jams as a scourge of big cities.

Since there were no calls from her side, I suppose that she, too, is late, otherwise according to the female habit, appearing at the meeting place before the man would throw him calls and SMS, that she was already tired of waiting and when he would finally deign to appear.

I go to a cafe, look around for a free table, holding the phone in my hands, having plans to sit at a table, call her first, find out where she will be and how soon she will be, and only then make an order to the waiter. And then I notice that from one of the tables he looks at me affably, smiles, and invitingly waves his hand with the clutched phone a certain woman.

Under no circumstances, not one of the most advanced physiognomist or master of deduction in the style of Sherlock Holmes, would be able to identify prostitute in Anna by her appearance and behavior. The venerable lady at the age of obviously 40, with a tuft of hair stabbed at the crown, in which silver hairs were also white and gray hairs, with a pleasant and kind, but not completely slutty and bitchy face expression, in an ordinary summer dress just above the knees, having no resemblance to shocking mini-cleavage-cuts, rather full, than thin, but not fat and even less fat, left the impression of a librarian, teacher, accountant, petty official, yes anyone, any normal woman of this age, who after work went and get distracted by a cup of coffee from working problems before plunging into the family for washing, cooking, cleaning, checking the lessons of their younger children and playing with their grandchildren from their elders, but not the prostitute who, according to her whim, selects among the clients only men like her and ready in a short time to undress in front of him, lay his legs apart, suck and fuck in various poses, really or falsely moan from the pleasure.

I sit down, meet each other personally, place an order, talk. Indeed, this is not a conversation between a prostitute and a client, it is a conversation between men and women who have glanced at each other, who decided to spend time in bed in a pleasant conversation, learn some nuances and trifles that had not been found out in the virtual world of the Internet. I answer her questions about myself and my family, parents and children, work and hobbies. I find out about it the same information, which partially coincides with my assumptions written in the previous paragraph, but partially not.The “librarian” can be considered a valid hit, her main place of work is the supervisor of the poet’s house-museum, not far from the monument to which we are located. "Teacher" - gets even more accurate, because she graduated from the Faculty of Physics and Mathematics of the University, she worked for some ...