Perhaps this should be called kukoldom. And you will be judged by reading this story, which I compiled for you, carefully observing punctuation and spelling. Your feedback in PM and comments are very welcome.

Perhaps, my situation and my approach to understanding the exciting topics of SW, or rather cuckolds, will be largely non-standard, and maybe everything is much more trivial, and you will tell me that there are millions of them enough to fool myself, but I certainly will not listen to you . The fact is that she is not mine. I will not even begin to disclose her name, only as in the field of miracles I will open the first letter - M. So I will call her in my story.

I am incredibly in love with M. and understood this, perhaps, from the first minutes of my eye contact with her. Everything is romantically and sexually combined in her (perhaps it just seems to me in a fit of total love that lasts almost a year, but does it matter?) - she is a tall brunette (visually 180 cm without heels), she flies incredibly much (guess the profession Yes, yes, she is “stu”), she is very clever and sarcastically strict, she is a little tactless, but that’s up to her, and she knows what she wants and she doesn’t care about the opinions of others. She is only 24, but her psychological age and philosophical approach to life are simply immeasurable. I thought that on the background of all this, we could converge and become a couple, a classical couple, and then as fate tells ... I thought it was in those moments of the first visual contact with her appearance. But it turned out and goes all the way. She is not mine.

But M. and not as far as it seems. No, no, spiritually it is far away. In this, I miscalculated and misjudged our potential compatibility. But physically ... She is very close. It turned out that she became the girlfriend of my younger brother. I will say right away that they have not heard of any SW, swinging, etc., and if you tell them about it, you can be sent far beyond the end of the world, assuming that the Earth is still flat. They are on their own wave, and we will walk on it later. And now I want to tell you how it all started.

My brother and I flew from plane A to point B, and let it sound like a problem from a school textbook in mathematics for the 7th grade, our attention was not at all focused on the schoolgirl. Of all the “stu” of that flight, wonderful M. immediately attracted our attention. As already noted, tall, not too smiling, but no less beautiful and alluring. And without communication it was obvious that a girl with a strong, strong-willed character, admiring herself and, as it seemed to me, was inaccessible. On her slender body, the red uniform sat very beautifully, the skirt elegantly emphasized the wide hips of the endless slender legs. My brother, despite his younger age, and he was only 19, began eagerly to tell me that it would be very good to meet M. (we read her name on a badge) and find out her telephone number. The main thing is not to lose her life, barely let in a couple of hours of flight. I immediately laughed at him, thinking that to him, young and too ambitious, M. certainly would never leave a number. It seemed to me that for him a great accomplishment would be to simply take her legs off her and not be laughed at and accounted for such an arrogant request. So the flight took place, we looked at her silly and timidly, asking for coffee when the turn of light snacks reached us. In a hoarse voice, I thanked her, hoping with this incredible gesture of etiquette, which, by the way, many passengers neglect, to somehow stand out in her eyes. My "thank you" flew into the void.

During the flight, so nothing came up and failed, it was not possible, but rather just the determination to make contact. But thoughts of her were bursting from the inside, and in the meantime my Boeing in pants asked for a possible rapprochement with M. and clearly demonstrated his interest in her.When she slowly passed by handing out drinks, my eyes gazed involuntarily and looked at randomly selected details of her image - here are the legs, these are the hips, how does the skirt fit them, and which hands nicely stick out the chest under the form, in the opinion the second size is hidden there , and how the hair is collected in a bun, and what if she straightens them, they are obviously long, but God, how must she be strict ... oh M ...

And then we landed at point B. Coming out of the plane, I had the feeling like in a joke "I looked at her all this time, but she never gave me the number, I did everything I could." We arrived in the first hour of the night, the bus took us to the building of the provincial airport, where we had to expect to receive luggage. While we were languishing looking at the frozen baggage tape, the pilots managed to pass by us, and the team "stu" appeared behind them. Obviously, they stayed overnight in the city, probably in a hotel near the airport. A little behind, she walked and M., busily knocking her heels and carrying a small suitcase. And then Vlad (oh yes, I haven’t presented it to you yet) said to me: I’m after her! Not having had time to process this information due to the fact that my eyes were seeing off, as it seemed then, my muse and dream forever, I saw how my youngest, perhaps because of the distance, my brother rushed after her and, as I could see but not hear, stopped her and started a conversation. To my great surprise, M. smiled in amazement at him, answered something, perhaps even somewhat embarrassed, but rather bewildered, and then Vlad pulled out the phone, and M. began to dictate his number to him. Embarrassment, meanwhile, has already covered the face of my daring Romeo, who apparently did not know how to proceed further in this situation. M., on the other hand, completely recovered from surprise and smiled, stretched out her hand in a sign of farewell and, at the same time, consolidated the acquaintance. Then she walked away, shaking her hips just as efficiently and with her head held high, I continued to accompany her with my gaze, even noticing how Vlad was already standing all pleased and agitated beside her. In his hand, he held a phone with a still not extinct screen, on which her name and her +7 was flamboyant ... Meanwhile, the bags left, our bags very quickly appeared, grabbing them, we hurried to the exit, where our parents were waiting for us. Having quickly reached the house, we arranged a night snack, after which we agreed that Vlad would give me her number and everyone would communicate with M. individually, at his own rapprochement with her and the risk of being rejected for her forever.

The next month we spent in constant correspondence with M., where she just did not fly, from where she didn’t answer, in what time zones she did not find herself. She answered with great desire to Vlad, leaving me with on-duty answers to the questions and dialog provocations I asked. You probably know how this happens and how you understand whether a girl wants to conduct a dialogue or rather simply maintains certain etiquette. Vlad was much more lucky (was he lucky? Or maybe he just deserved it and achieved it?): From a certain moment M. did not leave him without wishing good night, then she periodically sent him selfies, in uniform, then in “civilian” ", Moreover, it is very profitable to emphasize its form. I continued to be sincerely and jealously surprised at what was happening, given the difference in age (I remind her of 24, and he is 19) and her inaccessible, even bitchy image. While I was in such a state, and every day I was losing hope for such contact with M., in her schedule, our town again loomed and spent the night in it.

The specificity of the situation was that during the day she had only round-trip flights, that is, they did not have the opportunity for a day meeting, but the night rendezvous (whatever it may sound) was the only opportunity to meet again. And then Vlad decided to take the bull by the horns.They had two weeks before the meeting, M.'s selfies, which she sent exclusively to him became more and more provocative - winks, built eyes, but I eat raspberries with a finger, and here I am in a dressing gown in the bathroom and so on. Further. Vlad, on the other hand, began to attend the gym twice as hard (which I neglect, relying more on brain training), sent her photos of pumped up arms, torso and press, causing very ...