Having fallen under the magic of the “heat of cold numbers”, I used to think that I thought about it in the fall of 2009, and who will become my hundredth woman? The question of "when" did not particularly care. With 5-6 promising candidates in development, it was obvious that the Rubicon line was about to be overcome. And as it turned out later, His Majesty Chance in a very remarkable way brought together in the heroine of this song the typical features of many of my other women and at the same time are unique to her, unique and unique, life and intimate circumstances.

The most common Russian name is Svetlana. And a very unusual, rare middle name. Type Pafnutievna or Mefodevna. Later I learned that her father had grown up in a family of Old Believers.

The most common beginning of dating - the site mamba. And a suddenly discovered circumstance (after sending my photo to her in the mail): Sveta declares that we are familiar in real life. And for this reason refuses to meet. Suspecting that he takes on the bluff and dynamite in this way, and in fact she did not like my appearance, I try to play the card “Do Don Pedro have a lot in Brazil” (there are fewer programmers with the name DD in Ensk, I know almost all, but there are no namesakes among them). No, he has no complaints about the appearance, but he calls my place of work, a couple of others, and the street where I live, and what is the name of my wife. Op-pa, here I am sleeping! On the girlfriend of his wife got, or what?

It turns out that we are colleagues in the department. And met already 10 years ago, at the end of the last century. True, they worked together for a very short time, a semester maximum: she just went to work, yesterday's student, and I had already quit. Over the years, I even forgot her name, this dialogue on the Web is remarkable:
- How did you forget, DD? Remember, you and I still kept the inventory act until late, and the secretary was carried. Evening, winter, snow, cold, darkness. You also escorted me to a stop and waited until I left.
- Yes, yes, something like that! But it means that your name is not your Light. You're Julia, right?
- You're confusing again! Julia - this is just a secretary. And I am Sveta, laboratory assistant. And I know that you are very offended at me. I also say that we have no reason to meet.
-? Why on earth?
- Well, how? After all, I was appointed to your position. You probably thought that I was intriguing and podsizhivaet you? Are you a masochist, to be merciful with a person you hate? And I don’t need sadists, my former husband is fed up, well, you remember, I told ...
- Did you really sit up? Have you been the mistress of "Gurbanguly Safarniyazovich"? - this is our permanent director of the local branch of the Sharash-commercial university. “And asked him to speed up your career?”
- Ugh, shame on you!
“So much for the answer.” My dismissal is absolutely not connected with you.
- And yet, it seems to me not very correct to meet with a man whom I already know.
- Eh, bast-bast, start all over again)))

It only spurs me on: getting a real acquaintance to bed, using Internet technologies - I haven’t had one yet. She seems to be slowed down: a real acquaintance plus contrived guilt for my departure from that work, and possibly an insult that I didn’t immediately remember, becomes the reason that our first meeting live (and in the cafe, of course, without sex, like for anew) took place a few months after the first virtual “hello”. Longer than Svetka (almost half a year), only one young virgin from minority groups bored me like that. But everything is clear there, and I want to, and it is pricked, and the nurse does not order. But something clearly interfered with Sveta - a 35-year-old (at that time) divorced childless woman who indicated without any confusion the “sex” item in her profile - to go for rapprochement earlier, to meet the 2-3-4 weeks At the very least, typical for candy-bouquet period of mambing.

The most common "coffee" date in a cafe. Unusually, she was the first to arrive at the meeting.

Separate cabinet. The usual "sweet" menu: ice cream, cakes, coffee. Svetlana is no longer that timid girl graduate, but a quite self-confident woman, stout, of course, but she was not thin even 10 years ago, a rather large chest sticks out tightly from under her blouse, the gold chain gleams at the neckline, attracting to that area my gaze, a blue-eyed brunette, I think, is also not the most frequent combination of female characters, and the dimples on my cheeks especially touch me when Sveta smiles. At first, though, she doesn’t often smile, the conversation isn’t sticking (Svetkina put the words “as if she put herself up for auction”), but our knowledge of mutual friends, common (once) work places, general knowledge of computer business, and now we we laugh merrily, recalling the tricks of the students and the adequate responses of the teachers, then we vigorously discuss this or that software product.

We chat and chat, do not reach the sexual themes and concretization of the parameters of an intimate meeting (if it takes place). Moreover, the topic of sex and personal experiences occupied a very large amount in our Internet conversations. Sveta is embarrassed, I think, I am familiar with this effect, when ladies nightingales are spilled in the virtual, they are already talking on the phone by embarrassment, and when they meet in person, they look around, and where is the tram. I do not hurry and do not push. Already the waitress has brought the bill, is already helping my former colleague and future friend to put on outerwear, no signs, explicit or secret, do not see what they say, does she agree to sex or sharply against?

- So what? - not holding back impatience, I ask. - We will meet? Or how?
Sveta turns to me sharply. It seems she is seriously surprised. And happy? Smiles, embarrassed and triumphant at the same time.
“I already thought you were sick.” Write down the address. Or remember, and already leaving the car, when I drove her to the specified address, discussing the date and time of the first intimate meeting along the way, she added, oh, yes, and don't forget the condoms! Do not start - seeing that I frowned - at least for the first time.

Sjörth win it! Where is this bitch, logic science? What will change after the first time? Give the answer, mother nature! No answer, silent. Say, sort it out yourself ...

Light was the perfect version of the mistress in the domestic plan. The meetings were meant at her home, she lived alone, had no bad habits, and all my expenses were reduced to “buy something for tea-coffee”.

Light was a dangerous version of the mistress in topographic terms. Her apartment was located in the same building where my wife’s boss lived, so I had to put the car away from home and learn spyware detection skills along the way.

And so, my first visit to visit her. So you want to write about refined romance and unprecedented sensations, about the overwhelming passion and unprecedented pleasures. I want ... but I will not. There was no such thing. Especially at the first intimate meeting. I remember the details of this meeting now. How she met me in a dressing-gown with wet hair. As they drank tea in the kitchen, again overcoming the stiffness in communication, as if there was no meeting in a cafe. As I seized the moment, I still pulled off her robe, expecting to see a naked body, but Sveta was in underwear, very elegant, beautiful, expensive and newly acquired, in my amateurish look. After the initial tweaks, she sent me to wash, and my surprise at the lack of a bath in the bathroom with a shower stall (they were only in vogue then). A huge trakhodrom in the center of a large room (the apartment was a three-room apartment and recently purchased, but repairs were made only in the large and kitchen-bathroom hall, and those two rooms remained behind closed doors waiting for their turn).

Densely drawn curtains, but still not even twilight, the windows in the middle of the day, just a little darkened. A large TV hanging on the wall, a DVD center on the shelf beneath it, flickering with light bulbs, quietly playing something lyrical.Nude Light on the bed ....