It was the usual May, almost summer, Thursday. I (so happened during the week) sat at my computer in the office, trying to focus on work, but the brain stubbornly refused to do it. And there were objective reasons for this. Over the past year and a half I, of course, have been fortunate enough to diversify my intimate life, but there have been some drawbacks to this.

If I’m hardly worried about Nick, Vale and Anya, what happened was once and by accident. Like pleasant memories - I had their panties and good amateur photos that I took. But Inna - it was another matter. She was able to conquer my windy heart with something, and the thought of that wonderful trip on the train firmly sat down in my head. I was torn to pieces by conscience and desire. Conscience said that even after what happened in the compartment, it was not necessary to give Inna hope - she would soon forget about me and one problem would be less. But the memories of her beautiful body, of her beautiful breasts and of some natural gentleness made me think of her every day.

Oil in the fire poured her intimate photos that she sent me, thus confirming that he wants to continue our relationship. And now I have a problem, how to develop this relationship. The simplest, of course, would be to divorce my wife, transport Inna with my child, and live-be. But ... But honestly, I was not ready for this turn of events. I will be honest - almost everything suited me, in my marital status. Well, except for those problems and poles in the wheels that someone constantly threw up at me. This "someone" was myself.

Well, always, of course, remained the option of correspondence, call up sometimes or occasionally ride together on the same train. But “love for two cities” seemed to me somewhat tedious.

While I was sitting deep in my thoughts, I received a notice in my headphones — another packet of letters arrived in the mail. God, yes they mock! I have not read the last fifty pieces yet, but they will not calm down! Maybe it was just today to take time off and rest in bed at home?

I looked at the wall clock - twelve o'clock. Until the end of the working day - even six hours, but it seems like the time has come for a lunch break. It was irregular in our country, but it strictly had to fall into the interval from twelve to three o'clock in the afternoon. Honestly, I didn’t even know how to spend my lunch break. Especially due to the fact that I did not take lunch with me today. You could just get along with coffee and cookies. And it was possible to walk along the street in order to get away from work at least a little.

Suddenly, someone's hand fell on my shoulder. I jerked and turned around in fear, pulling off my headphones, which already ruined my life with my short wire. Before me stood a smiling Ksyusha. But what a week is this!

“Hi,” she said, still smiling. - Do you want to go to dinner?

“Hi,” I replied uncertainly. - OK, let's try.

We went out into the corridor and leisurely went to the elevator.

- And what wind are you here? - I asked. “As a young mother, you can sit at home for almost three years!”

- Yes, there was some fuss with the documents, it was necessary to stop by and decide that my place would be left behind me. Plus agreed to work part time from home.

- A child left for someone then? On older children?

“Well, say that,” Ksyusha looked at me in surprise, “no, of course.” For such cases there is a nanny.

“Aaaaaa,” I drawled. - So you decided to make your husband and children happy!

- Shut up better, Misha! It is unlikely that my faithful will covet a sixty year old.

“You are cunning,” I laughed.

“Come on, have a conversation,” Ksyusha said in a businesslike tone.

A crowd gathered around the elevator, which also decided to run out of the office during the lunch break. Someone traveled by car to the nearest cafe, someone drove home. Well, someone just breathed air.Although on the street the sun was already roasting unmercifully, even as for summer.

- Well, a glass of kvass? - I asked.

- No, - answered Ksyusha, - I do not change coffee.

“Well, yes, coffee is not a husband,” I laughed.

Ksyusha shook her head in disgust. The only focus of the food industry in our industrial area was a cafe. Well, even the "cafe" was difficult to call it - the menu included coffee, tea and sweets such as croissants or cheesecakes. I ordered two coffees and, while the order was being prepared, I looked at Ksyusha. Pregnancy she definitely benefited. Her nicely rounded shape - the chest from the usual "dvoechki" turned into an appetizing "C grade". The ass has also changed noticeably - it has become a bit more, but it did not spoil her, but on the contrary - it gave femininity. If earlier such a fetid little girl looked at me, now it was an adult woman in the juice. Summer translucent sarafan only emphasized its charms, fascinating me ...

Ksyusha caught my eye and asked:

- How do I look? We have not seen ...

- For ages. You are very beautiful.

“I'm glad to hear that,” Ksyusha replied, smiling gratefully.

Taking our coffee, we left the cafe. I will not say that we particularly concealed our relationship with Ksyusha, but once again I didn’t want to give food for thought to my colleagues. Therefore, we walked away from the cafe in the direction of the railway. The “deaf” end of the road that ran through our office met with the railway, and about seven hundred meters went along with it side by side. With proper skill, it was possible to bypass the locomotives and trains and then go to the metro station. But these seven hundred meters were almost always deserted - the staff was brought up by a special "delivery" from the metro, while others here had nothing to do. It was a kind of railway sump.

“So what did you want to talk about?” I asked Ksyusha when we were a little away from the cafe.

- Yes, so much about anything ... - Ksyusha said thoughtfully. “Well, except that my youngest child is from you, and I am divorcing my husband.” And yes, I want to be with you ...

It cost me a lot of effort not to collapse where I stood! Not so much I was stunned by the news about fatherhood, but rather about the fact that Ksyusha is getting divorced in order to connect his life with mine! I instantly had a lot of thoughts in my brain, one worse than the other - to live with Ksenia and raise my child and her children, I would definitely have to divorce my wife, with whom we were nearly thirteen years together! And despite our trips to the left, my wife and I were still attached to each other.

We loved to spend time together in bed at the weekend, get somewhere in the countryside, walk around the city. Each of us knew the deepest dreams and fantasies of the other, so he trusted his soulmate as himself. And ... And I doubted that my faithful would calmly endure our divorce. And I myself could not imagine life without it. The strange thing is that you start to appreciate something when you have already lost it. Well, or almost lost.

- So what? Are you glad - Ksyusha did not lag behind, looking intently into my eyes.

- I ... Emm ... Yes, I agree to be with you together and raise our children, - I muttered in a choked voice. God, well, let's say, with the wife we ​​can still find a common language, but Inna ... Why did I only give her hope? Moron!

- Great. I still have an apartment and children, well, part of the money. When can you move in with me?

Now I really felt bad. Since in spite of all the unpleasantness of the situation, I was also hurried with the answer. I stopped and drained a paper cup of coffee in one gulp, forgetting to stir the sugar. Disgustingly bitter coffee sobered me up a little.

- I will need to discuss all this with my wife ... Well, this process is not fast ... - I mumbled. So you got Don Juan. Dope with his pipiskoy. Now rake what he has done! I fell into a stupor and tried to figure out what to do next with all this ...

- Ha! Believe it! - laughed Ksyusha, bending in half with laughter. - I'm not going to divorce my husband.

- But your baby is ...