It happened many years ago, but this story still haunts me. Nothing in my life was more beautiful and at the same time more burdensome for my conscience, because the words “honor” and “dignity” are not an empty sound for me. But first things first.

I was 35, I had a wonderful family, four children, an adorable husband and the peak of my sexuality. In order to please my husband, I watched myself, went in for sports, tried to be pretty pretty, dress well, get enough sleep and, most importantly, eat right. I was not a fabulous beauty, but had some charisma, men often fell for me, but I never allowed myself to play with them. In my rules there were always clearly defined boundaries and even an easy flirt was not part of them.

Our town was small and all personal life was on everyone’s sight. My family had nothing to reproach. I have always been proud of this circumstance and condemned people who betray their wives and husbands a little. Probably, for my pride, the Lord sent me a severe punishment.

It was a beautiful Indian summer. My husband went on a business trip for a terribly long month. A few days later, a state of emergency was declared in our city, I immediately took the children to the village to my mother, since all the schools and kindergartens were closed, and she returned to the city to work. One of the houses was terribly depressing, but I tried to get distracted, spent a general cleaning, read books, and watched TV.

On that miserable morning, I almost slept at work. I jumped out of bed and realized that I had overslept, I ran to wash to wash. Having somehow made up, I began to look for clothes and realized that my cat was sleeping all night on my gray trousers and it was absolutely impossible to wear them. Wearing a slit skirt at the back, I hurriedly fastened my blouse and rushed to work.

Almost reaching the stop, I buried my nose on the patrol. And I realized that I forgot my passport at home. An image of a boss appeared in the brain, broadcasting menacingly:
- Remember: a passport is required! Better to forget to wear panties! Until the identification of the person will sit at least a day!

Apparently, according to my guilty eyes everything was clear. Two gloomy guys approached me.
- Your documents.
They were twenty-five years old. These were real serious Russian men. Blue eyes, wide cheekbones, slightly sunken cheeks. One was a little taller, wider at the shoulders and somehow more formidable. The second was somehow youthful, with a springy gait and aristocratically long fingers.

- Woman documents.
- What? - I ask again
- Your passport can be?
- I forgot it, but I live here, in this house, can I go? - I rattled.
- No, let's go in the car.
- Please please. Do you want - come with me. Pozhauysta.

They looked at each other.
- Come on, just fast. And you remember, aunt, we have a weapon. If there are problems, give up better here.
“No, no,” I hurried to assure them. - Honestly, just in a hurry today.

And I quickly walked toward the house.

I opened the door and entered. They, having a little rumpled, also entered after. Having searched the lower shelves, I realized that there was no passport.
- Guys! - I called. - Do not help? It seems the passport is at the top, and the stepladder staggers. Do not hold?

From the corridor I heard a heavy sigh. They entered the hall, stood near the ladder, and I climbed up. I stood on tiptoes, slightly raising one leg for convenience, fumbled for my passport, sobbed happily, turned to the guys and only at that moment I realized what I had done. My short skirt and “high position” played a fatal role in this whole story.

I jumped off the ladder and was almost in the hands of this big and formidable one. I handed him my passport and felt his heavy breathing. I tried to step back, but I buried myself in that second one. His hot breath burned my neck.He grabbed my shoulder and spun me around, and then pressed me to the rack with one hand. His hand slid over my neck, collarbone, clinging to the hem of my blouse and baring my shoulder.

The first one hid my passport in his pocket and began to unbutton the buttons on my blouse.

- Guys! - I screamed. “Guys, can we have some better tea?”

They both stopped, looked at each other, and suddenly burst out laughing.
- Fuck, she's awesome! Laughed the one that was more formidable.

They laughed and laughed.
- Why do you need me? - I continued more confidently. - I am old, I have a lot of children, only cares in my head. You are so beautiful, any young one will give you. And in general, it's time to write me off as scrap. And I have super tea and honey. And cookies.

Tears spilled from the other’s eyes.
- Go, put the kettle! He almost shrieked.
I frantically buttoning, rushed off to the kitchen.

For tea, we met. The one that was formidable turned out to be Vadim, and the one with long fingers, Sergey. They told me that they had been seconded to the state of emergency and were helping the local police. I invited them to go to tea at any time and they left to continue their difficult service.

Shutting the door behind them, I slid down the wall. Two feelings fought in me - the horror of what could have happened and the disappointment that this did not happen. I tried to hide the second feeling deeply, but it burned with new force at the slightest recollection of their strong hands, inquisitive blue eyes and this hot breath.

I climbed into the bathroom and tried to think about something else. About work, children, husband. I was terribly ashamed, at the same time I understood that I managed to avoid the very shameful thing, but the thought of their hands did not allow me to relax, my abdomen seemed compressed with excitement.

Throwing a bathrobe, I left the bathroom and realized that the water was probably too hot, I felt bad and I threw it on the sofa, lay naked on the bed. I kept thinking and thinking, my thoughts were spinning from shame and disappointment to joyful excitement. In the end, these thoughts so exhausted me that I fell asleep.

I woke up from the sharp sound of the doorbell. Jumping up, I threw on my robe and realized that there was no belt, the cat had dragged it off somewhere. I ran to the door.
- Who's there?
- This is Vadim. I forgot to give you my passport.

I opened the door and he entered, lowering his eyes. He took out a passport and handed it to me. Raised his eyes. I, holding the dressing gown with one hand, took the passport. There was a pause. He took me by the brush and spread my arms along with the floor of the robe to the sides.
- Fuck, I hoped that under the clothes you are ugly. That you have scars or cellulite or tits hang. You have four children, but how is that?

I was silent. Not a single bright thought was in my head. He looked into my eyes, came closer and put his lips into my lips. They were Vadim large, plump and soft, and his tongue immediately went on the attack. I put my hands on his shoulders, pushing him away, then tried to smell his dressing gown, then just howled.

- Does it hurt you? - he asked.
“Go away, please,” I replied, almost crying.

Vadim gritted his teeth and I saw how often the vein in his neck pulses. He punched a wall above my shoulder. Came out and slammed the door.

The night I slept was disgusting. After a half-day stay, I took time off to the hospital, took a hospital, and went home. Sergey was waiting for me at the entrance.
“You talked about tea.”
- Yes, of course, let's go.

Sergey looked around several times, opened the door and quickly pushed me into the porch. While we were drinking tea, I learned that both of them were not married, they knew each other only in service, but during those few days they had already become friends. I told a little about myself, I remembered a couple of jokes. The conversation flowed smoothly from one topic to another. It was raining outside the window, and over warm tea it was so cozy and fun.

Suddenly, Sergei aspired.
- I have to go, change soon.
- Of course of course. Have a nice work. Thank you for the good company. I'm on sick leave, so ...