Interesting life stories about love. Love stories with a bright plot

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It is easy to love each other when adversity and difficulties pass you by. However, in real life, every couple’s relationship is tested for strength at least once.

website collected 10 stories about people whose love is not afraid of trials.

One evening I realized how much you need to love women. In the underground passage, I helped my grandmother with her bags to go upstairs. She thanked him, then, after hesitating a little, asked to be escorted to the courtyard of the house. It turned out that my help was needed to get there quickly, since her husband meets her every time she leaves the house. A practically blind old man with a cane could barely move around the yard. He was going to meet his beloved and pick up packages from her from the store. I immediately remembered how often I refused to pick up my girlfriend from the store or from the train because I was too lazy.

At the age of 19 I lost my leg. Then I was dating a girl, we had love. She unexpectedly went abroad, she said, to earn money for us. I wanted to believe it, but I knew she was lying. At one point I told her that I wanted to leave her (she was better off). About a month later I’m sitting at home, the doorbell rings. I took the crutches, opened the door, and there she was! Before he could say anything, he received a slap in the face, could not resist and fell. She sat down next to me, hugged me and said: “Idiot, I didn’t run away from you. Tomorrow we are going to the clinic to try on a prosthesis for you. I went to earn money for you. You’ll be able to walk normally again, understand?” In this moment I had a lump in my throat, I couldn’t say a word... I pressed her tighter and just cried.

My older sister got married. Very often her husband is capricious and makes a dissatisfied face, saying, “I won’t eat this: she didn’t cut the meat the way he likes it.” At these moments I remember my sister’s ex-boyfriend: she cooked chicken liver, and he always ate it, saying that he had never tasted anything tastier. And then it turned out that he had an allergy to the liver. He loved his sister madly.

After giving birth, my wife’s vision began to deteriorate greatly. She had been wearing glasses before, but then it got really bad. I didn’t have the strength to watch her suffer, so I took on additional work and found income on the Internet. I worked like an immortal pony and didn’t get enough sleep for almost a year. And here it is - it’s done! I saved up for my wife to get laser vision correction. She recently returned from the hospital and was surprised by everything around her. And I don’t care about this year, about the energy expended and sleepless nights! I have a healthy son and a happy wife, and that's the main thing.

At the age of 18, I was diagnosed with a small brain tumor. I thought I had cancer and would die soon, so I told my boyfriend that I would understand if he left me. To which he turned everything into a joke and replied that he could only throw me through his hip (he is a wrestler) if I started such a conversation again. As a result, the tumor turned out to be benign. Now I am 21 years old, we have been married for 2 years, we are raising a daughter. I will never forget his support in such a difficult moment for me.

Lately Mom has heart problems, I’ve been living with her for a week, my father has been on a business trip for a month. He was supposed to return yesterday. In the evening we sit in the kitchen, I look at her: thin, pale, beautiful. There is an icy calm on his face, and his hands are trembling. The keys are in the lock, dad is back. Mom runs to the door, clutches him, cries and says something unintelligible. He holds her close to him, and I stand to the side and smile. His love is her most important medicine.

I met a guy on the Internet. Cheerful, educated, good-natured. Plus, he has a very nice appearance. We talked on Skype for several years. After I realized that I love him. He reciprocated, but was afraid to meet. She insisted on her opinion and came to him a thousand kilometers away. It turned out that the young man was disabled. Can't walk. We spent three months together. We will submit an application to the registry office soon. For me he is the best, my Professor X!

• I'm infertile. The first girl I was in a serious relationship with, I didn’t talk about it for a long time, I was afraid, and when the truth was revealed, she just left. I went through a year of depression, then there was another relationship, but it ended in nothing. About six months ago I met a girl, fell deeply in love, kept silent about my problem, yesterday I told everything. I was ready for anything, and she looked at me and said that in the future it would be possible to take a child from the orphanage. I burst into tears, I want to marry her.
• We recently moved to an apartment in St. Petersburg and started renovating it. When they dismantled the floor, they found a niche with letters: a woman, Anna, wrote to her husband Eugene, how they live with three children, how they survive, or rather, about how the city does not give up, about how they are all waiting to meet. The last letter struck a chord with me: “We are really waiting for you, Zhenechka. I can’t write anymore, I’m out of pencil, but I’ll think about you. Feel us, look at the sky and feel."
• I met with the most ordinary beautiful girl, spoiled by a good life. It was easy and fun to be with her, and the means allowed her to satisfy her whims. He proposed to her, she agreed. But just a couple of weeks later I had an accident and was partially paralyzed. The pampered girl was my nurse, a loving woman and a reliable friend for several months., despite how helpless and pathetic I was. She sold a lot of things that I thought she couldn't live without. I learned to cook because I needed special nutrition. She forbade me to apologize. Not a shadow of doubt, disgust or fear flashed on her face during all this time.

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Irina Lobusova
Kama Sutra. Short stories about love (collection)

It was like this

Almost every day we meet on the landing of the main staircase. She smokes in the company of her friends, and Natasha and I are looking for the women's restroom - or vice versa. She is similar to me - maybe because we both completely lose the ability to navigate the huge and endless (as it seems to us every day) space of the institute. The long, tangled bodies of which seem to be specially created to put pressure on the brain. Usually by the end of the day I start to go wild and demand to immediately hand over the monkey who built this building. Natasha laughs and asks why I am sure that this architectural monkey is still alive. However, endless wandering in search of the right audience or women's toilet is entertainment. There are so few of them in our lives - simple entertainment. We both appreciate them, I recognize everything in their eyes. When, at the most unexpected moment, we bump into each other on the stairs and lie to each other that our meeting is completely unexpected. We both just know how to lie classically. Me. And she.

We usually meet on the stairs. Then we look away and look important. She explains sedately how she just left the audience. I am walking along the corridor nearby. No one admits, even under the guise of a terrible death penalty, that in fact we are standing here and waiting for each other. No one except us is given (and will not be given) to know about this.

Both very amicably pretend that they are incredibly happy to see each other. From the outside, everything looks so easy to believe.

– It’s so nice to meet friends!

– Oh, I didn’t even know that you would be passing through here... But I’m so glad!

– What do you have to smoke?

She holds out cigarettes, my friend Natasha brazenly grabs two at once and in complete female solidarity the three of us smoke silently until the bell rings for the next pair.

– Would you give me your notes on economic theory for a couple of days? We have a test in a couple of days... And you already passed the test ahead of schedule... (she)

- No problem. Call, come in and take... (me).

Then we go to lectures. She is studying in the same course as me, just in a different stream.

The auditorium is damp from the morning light, and the desk is still damp from the wet rag of the cleaning lady. In the back people are discussing yesterday's television series. After a few minutes, everyone dives into the depths of higher mathematics. Everyone but me. During the break, without taking my eyes off my notes, I sit at the table, trying to at least see what is written on the paper sheet open in front of me. Someone slowly and quietly approaches my table. And without looking up, I know who I will see. Who is standing behind me... She.

She enters sideways, as if embarrassed by strangers. He sits down next to you and looks devotedly into his eyes. We are the closest and best friends, and have been for a long time. The deep essence of our relationship cannot be expressed in words. We're just waiting for one man. We've both been waiting for years without success. We are rivals, but not a single person in the world would think of calling us that. Our faces are the same because they are marked with the indelible stamp of love and anxiety. For one person. We probably both love him. Maybe he loves us too, but for the safety of our common souls, it’s easier to convince ourselves that he really doesn’t care about us.

How much time has passed since then? Six months, a year, two years? Since that time, when was there one, the most ordinary phone call?

Who called? I can’t even remember the name now... Someone from a neighboring course... or from a group...

"- Hello. Come right now. Everyone has gathered here... there's a surprise!

- What a surprise?! It's raining outside! Speak clearly!

– How about your English?

– Have you gone crazy?

– Listen, we have Americans sitting here. Two came on exchange to the Faculty of Romance-Germanic Philology.

- Why are they sitting with us?

– They are not interested there, besides, they met Vitalik and he brought them to our dorm. They are funny. They hardly speak Russian. She (named the name) fell for one. She sits next to him all the time. Come. You should look at this! “

The rain that hit my face... When I returned home, there were three of us. Three. This has been the case ever since.

I turn my head and look at her face - the face of a man who, faithfully laying his head on my shoulder, looks through the eyes of a pitiful beaten dog. She definitely loves him more than me. She loves so much that it is a holiday for her to hear at least one word. Even if this word of his is intended for me. From the point of view of damaged pride, I look at her very closely and competently note that today she has her hair done poorly, this lipstick does not suit her, and there is a loop on her tights. She probably sees the bruises under my eyes, unmanicured nails and tired appearance. I have known for a long time that my breasts are more beautiful and larger than hers, my height is taller and my eyes are brighter. But her legs and waist are more slender than mine. Our mutual inspection is almost unnoticeable - it is a habit ingrained in the subconscious. After this, we mutually look for oddities in behavior that indicate that one of us has recently seen him.

“Yesterday I watched international news until two o’clock in the morning...” her voice trails off and becomes hoarse. “They probably won’t be able to come this year... I heard there’s a crisis in the States...”

“And even if they come, despite their shaky economy,” I pick up, “they are unlikely to come to us.”

Her face falls, I see that I hurt her. But I can’t stop anymore.

- And in general, I have long forgotten about all this nonsense. Even if he comes again, you still won’t understand him. As last time.

– But you will help me with the translation...

- Hardly. I forgot English a long time ago. Exams are coming soon, the session is coming, we need to study Russian... the future belongs to the Russian language... and they also say that Germans will soon come to the Russian Geographical Fund for exchange. Would you like to sit down with a dictionary and go look at them?

After her, he turned to me - it was normal, I had long been accustomed to such a reaction, but I did not know that his ordinary masculine actions could cause her such pain. He still writes me letters - thin pieces of paper printed on a laser printer... I keep them in an old notebook so as not to show them to anyone. She does not know about the existence of these letters. All her ideas about life are the hope that he will forget me too. I guess that every morning she opens a map of the world and looks at the ocean with hope. She loves the ocean almost as much as he loves him. For her, the ocean is a bottomless abyss in which thoughts and feelings drown. I do not dissuade her from this illusion. Let him live as easily as possible. Our history is primitive to the point of stupidity. So ridiculous that it’s embarrassing to even talk about it. Those around us are firmly convinced that, having met at the institute, we simply became friends. Two closest friends. Who always have something to talk about... It's true. We are friends. We are interested together, there are always common topics and we also understand each other perfectly. I like her - as a person, as a person, as a friend. She likes me too. She has character traits that I don't have. We feel good together. It’s so good that no one is needed in this world. Even, probably, the ocean.

In our “personal” life, which is open to everyone, each of us has a separate man. She is a biology student from the university. Mine is a computer artist, a rather funny guy. With a valuable quality - the inability to ask questions. Our men help us survive the uncertainty and melancholy, and also the thought that he will not return. That our American romance will never truly connect us to him. But for this love, we secretly promise each other to always show concern - concern not about ourselves, but about him. She doesn’t realize, I understand how funny and absurd we are, clinging to cracked, torn straws in order to float to the surface and drown out some strange pain. Pain similar to a toothache, occurring at the most inopportune moment in the most inopportune place. Is the pain about yourself? Or about him?

Sometimes I read hatred in her eyes. As if by silent agreement, we hate everything that exists around us. An institute that you entered just for the sake of a diploma, friends who don’t care about you, society and our existence, and most importantly, the abyss that forever separates us from him. And when we are tired to the point of madness from eternal lies and poorly hidden indifference, from the whirlwind of meaningless but many events, from the stupidity of other people’s love stories - we meet her eyes and see sincerity, real, truthful sincerity, which is purer and better... We never talk about the topic of a love triangle because we both understand perfectly well that behind this there is always something more complex than the dilemma of ordinary unrequited love...

And one more thing: we think about him very often. We remember, experiencing different feelings - melancholy, love, hatred, something nasty and disgusting, or vice versa, light and fluffy... And after a stream of general phrases, someone suddenly stops mid-sentence and asks:

- Well?

And the other one shakes her head negatively:

- Nothing new…

And, having met his eyes, he will understand the silent sentence - there will be nothing new, nothing... Never.

At home, alone with myself, when no one sees me, I go crazy from the abyss into which I fall lower and lower. I desperately want to grab a pen and write in English: “leave me alone... don’t call... don’t write...” But I can’t, I’m not capable of doing this, and therefore I suffer from nightmares, from which my other half only becomes chronic insomnia. Our jealous sharing of love is a terrible nightmare in my dreams at night... Like a Swedish family or Muslim laws on polygamy... In my nightmares, I even imagine how we both marry him and run the same kitchen... Me and her. I shudder in my sleep. I wake up in a cold sweat and am tormented by the temptation to say that from mutual friends I learned about his death in a car accident... Or that another plane crashed somewhere... I invent hundreds of ways, I know that I cannot do it. I can't hate her. Just like she did me.

One day, on a difficult day, when my nerves were shaken to the limit, I pressed her against the stairs:

- What are you doing?! Why are you following me? Why are you continuing this nightmare?! Live your own life! Leave me alone! Don't seek my company, because in reality you hate me!

A strange expression appeared in her eyes:

- It is not true. I can't and don't want to hate you. I love you. And a little bit of it.

Every day for two years we meet on the landing of the stairs. And every meeting we don’t talk, but we think about him. I even catch myself thinking that I’m counting down the clock every day and looking forward to the moment when she quietly, as if shyly, enters the classroom, sits down with me and starts a stupid, endless conversation on general topics. And then, in the middle, he will interrupt the conversation and look at me questioningly... I guiltily look away to the side to shake my head negatively. And I’ll shiver all over, probably from the eternal cold dampness in the morning.

Two days until the new year

The telegram said “don’t come.” The snow scratched his cheeks with hard bristles, trampled under the broken lantern. The edge of the most brazen of all telegrams protruded from his pocket through the fur of his fur coat. The station looked like a huge pheonite ball, molded from dirty plasticine. A door leading into the sky fell brightly and clearly into the void.

Leaning against the cold wall, she studied the railway ticket window, where the crowd was choking, and thought only that she wanted to smoke, she just wanted to smoke like crazy, drawing in bitter frosty air into both nostrils. It was impossible to walk, you just had to stand, watching the crowd, leaning your shoulder against the cold wall, squinting your eyes from the familiar stench. All the stations are similar to one another, like fallen gray stars, floating in the clouds of other people's eyes, a collection of familiar, undeniable miasma. All stations are similar to one another.

Clouds - other people's eyes. This was essentially the most important thing.

The telegram said “don’t come.” This way he didn’t have to look for confirmation of what he was going to do. In a narrow passage, a trampled drunk homeless man fell out from under someone’s feet and fell right under her feet. She crawled extremely carefully along the wall so as not to touch the edge of her long fur coat. Someone pushed me in the back. Turned around. It seemed like she wanted to say something, but she couldn’t say anything, and so, unable to say anything, she froze, forgetting that she wanted to smoke because the thought was fresher. The idea that decisions can gnaw at the brain in the same way that half-smoked (in the snow) cigarettes gnaw. Where there was pain, red, inflamed dots remained, carefully hidden under the skin. She ran her hand, trying to cut off the most inflamed part, but nothing happened, and the red dots ached more and more painfully, more and more, leaving behind anger, similar to a hot broken lantern in the usual pheonite ball.

Sharply pushing part of the wall away from her, she crashed into the line, professionally throwing away all the bag-men with her confident elbows. The impudence caused a friendly opening of the mouths of seasoned ticket resellers. She pressed herself against the window, afraid that again she would not be able to say anything, but she said, and where the breath fell on the glass, the window became wet.

- One to... for today.

- And in general?

- I said no.

A sound wave of voices hit the legs, someone was vigorously tearing at the fur side, and very close by, the disgusting onion stench of someone’s hysterical mouth entered the nostrils - so the indignant masses of the people righteously tried to take her away from the railway ticket window.

– I may have a certified telegram.

- Go through the other window.

- Well, look - one ticket.

“Are you kidding me, damn you...,” said the cashier, “don’t hold up the line... you..., moved away from the cash register!”

The fur coat was no longer torn; the sound wave hitting the legs went to the floor. She pushed the heavy door that went into the sky and went out to where the frost immediately bit into her face with sharpened vampire teeth. Endless night stations floated past my eyes (other people's eyes). They shouted after us - along the taxi stands. Of course, she didn't understand a word. It seemed to her that she had forgotten all languages ​​a long time ago, and around her, through the aquarium walls, before reaching her, human sounds were disappearing, taking the colors existing in the world with them. The walls went all the way to the bottom, not letting in the bygone symphony of color. The telegram said “don’t come, circumstances have changed.” A perfect semblance of tears dried on her eyelashes, not reaching her cheeks in the vampire frost. These tears disappeared without appearing at all and immediately, only inside, under the skin, leaving a dull callous pain, similar to a drained swamp. She took a cigarette and a lighter (in the shape of a colored fish) from her purse and took a deep breath of the smoke, which suddenly stuck in her throat like a heavy and bitter lump. She pulled the smoke into herself until the hand holding the cigarette turned into a wooden stump, and when the transformation took place, the cigarette butt fell down of its own accord, looking like a huge falling star reflected in the velvet black sky. Someone pushed again, Christmas tree needles caught on the edge of her fur coat and fell onto the snow, and once the needles fell, she turned around. Ahead, in the hare's mark, loomed a wide man's back with a Christmas tree attached to his shoulder, which danced a fantastic funny dance on its back. The back walked quickly and went farther and farther with each step, and then only needles remained in the snow. Frozen (afraid to breathe), she looked at them for a very long time, the needles looked like small lights, and when her eyes dazzled from the artificial light, she suddenly saw that the light coming from them was green. It was very quickly, and then - nothing at all, only the pain, suppressed by the speed, returned to its original place. It stung in her eyes, spun in place, her brain shrank, and inside someone said clearly and clearly “two days until the New Year,” and immediately there was no air, there was bitter smoke, hidden deep in her chest as well as in her throat . A number, black as melted snow, floated out and knocked something off my feet, carried me away through the snow, but not in one place, somewhere - from people, to people.

“Wait, you...” from the side, someone’s heavy breathing reeked of a full range of fusel oils. Turning around, I saw fox eyes under a knitted hat.

- How long can I run after you?

Was someone running after her? Nonsense. It has never been like this - in this world. There was everything, except for two poles - life and death, in complete abundance.

– Did you ask for a ticket before...?

- Let's say.

- Yes, I have it.

- How many.

– I’ll pay you for 50 as if you were my own.

- Yes, let's go..

- Well, a measly 50 bucks, I’m giving it to you as if it were my own, so take it...

- Yeah, one for today, even the lowest place.

She held the ticket up to the lantern.

– Yes, that’s right, in kind, no doubt about it.

The guy crunched and held up a 50 dollar bill to the light.

- And the train is at 2 am.

- I know.

- OK.

He melted into space, like people who do not repeat themselves in daylight melt. “Don’t come, circumstances have changed.”

She grinned. The face was a white blur on the floor with a cigarette butt stuck to his eyebrow. It protruded from under sleepy drooping eyelids, and, fitting into the dirty circle, it called far, further and further. Where she was, the sharp corners of the chair pressed on her body. Voices merged in my ears somewhere in a forgotten world behind me. A sleepy web enveloped even the facial curves in a non-existent warmth. She bowed her head down, trying to leave, and her face only became a dirty white spot in the station tiles. That night she was no longer herself. Someone born and someone dead changed in ways that could not be imagined. Without falling anywhere, she turned her face away from the floor, where the station lived a nocturnal life that was not subject to consideration. At about one o'clock in the morning a telephone call rang in one of the apartments.

- Where are you?

- I'd like to check out.

– You decided.

- He sent a telegram. One.

- Will he at least wait for you? And then, the address...

– I have to go – it’s there, in the telegram.

- Will you come back?

- Come what may.

– What if you wait a couple of days?

- This makes absolutely no sense.

- What if you come to your senses?

- There is no right to another exit.

- There is no need to go to him. No need.

“I can’t hear well—the receiver is hissing, but you speak anyway.”

- What should I say?

- Anything. As you wish.

- Satisfied, right? There is no other such idiot on earth!

– There are two days left until the New Year.

- At least you stayed for the holiday.

- I have been chosen.

- Nobody chose you.

- Doesn't matter.

- Do not leave. There's no need to go there, do you hear?

Short beeps blessed her path and the stars turned black through the glass of the telephone booth inside the sky. She thought that she was gone, but she was scared to think about it for a long time.

The train crawled slowly. The carriage windows were dimly lit, the light bulb in the reserved seat aisle was dimly lit. Leaning the back of her head against the plastic of the train partition that reflected the ice, she waited for everything to go away and the darkness outside the window to be washed away by those tears that, without appearing in the eyes, do not dry. The glass, which had not been washed for a long time, began to tremble with a small, painful tremor. The back of my head hurt from the plastic ice. Somewhere inside, a small, chilly animal was whining. “I don’t want...” somewhere inside a small, tired, sick animal cried. “I don’t want to go anywhere, I don’t want to, Lord, do you hear...”

The glass shattered with small painful tremors in time with the train. “I don’t want to leave... the little animal cried, - nowhere at all... I don’t want to go anywhere... I want to go home... I want to go home to my mother...”

The telegram said “don’t come.” This meant that staying was not an option. It seemed to her that, together with the train, she was rolling down the slimy walls of the frozen ravine, with melted snowflakes on her cheeks and Christmas tree needles on the snow, down to the most hopeless bottom, where the frozen windows of the former rooms glow with electricity in such a homely way and where the false ones dissolve in the warmth. words that there are windows on earth, to which, having abandoned everything, you can still return... she was trembling, her teeth knocked out tremors where the fast train wheezed in agony. Cringing, she thought about the Christmas tree needles stuck in the snow, and that the telegram said “don’t come,” and that there were two days left until the New Year and that one day (it warmed with a painful artificial warmth) the day would come when she would no longer need to go anywhere drive. Like an old sick beast, the train howled along the rails that happiness is the simplest thing on earth. Happiness is when there is no road.

Red flower

She hugged herself by the shoulders, enjoying the perfect velvety skin. Then she slowly smoothed her hair with her hand. Cold water is a miracle. The eyelids became the same, without retaining a single trace of what... That she cried all night the night before. Everything was washed away by the water, and we could safely move forward. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror: “I am beautiful!” Then she waved her hand indifferently.

She walked through the corridor and found herself where she was supposed to be. She took a glass of champagne from the tray, not forgetting to give a sparkling smile to either the waiter or those around her. The champagne seemed disgusting to her, and a terrible bitterness immediately froze on her bitten lips. But none of those present who filled the large hall would have guessed this. She really liked herself from the outside: a lovely woman in an expensive evening dress drinks exquisite champagne, enjoying every sip.

Of course he was there all the time. He reigned, surrounded by his servile subjects, in the heart of the great banquet hall. A socialite, with an easy charm, he strictly follows his crowd. Has everyone come - those who should come? Are everyone enchanted - those who should be enchanted? Is everyone scared and depressed - those who should be scared and depressed? A proud look from under slightly knitted eyebrows said that was all. He sat half-sitting in the center of the table, surrounded by people, and, first of all, beautiful women. Most people who met him for the first time were fascinated by his simple-minded, attractive appearance, his simplicity and ostentatious good nature. He seemed to them an ideal - an oligarch who kept it so simple! Almost like an ordinary person, like one of our own. But only those who came into contact with him closer or those who dared to ask him for money knew how, from under the outer softness, a formidable lion’s paw protruded, capable of tearing apart the culprit with a slight movement of a formidable palm.

She knew all his gestures, his words, movements and habits. She kept every wrinkle in her heart like a treasure. The years brought him money and confidence in the future, he greeted them proudly, like an ocean flagship. There were too many other people in his life to notice. Occasionally he noticed her new wrinkles or folds on her body.

- Darling, you can’t do that! You need to take care of yourself! Look in the mirror! With my money... I heard a new beauty salon has opened...

-Who did you hear it from?

He was not embarrassed:

– Yes, a new one has opened and it’s very good! Go there. Otherwise, you will soon look like you are forty-five! And I won't even be able to go out with you.

He wasn't shy about showing off his knowledge of cosmetics or fashion. On the contrary, he emphasized: “You see how the youth loves me!” He was always surrounded by these same “enlightened” golden youth. On either side of him sat the two most recent title holders. One is Miss City, the other is Miss Charm, the third is the face of a modeling agency that dragged its charges to any presentation where there might be at least one earning more than 100 thousand dollars a year. The fourth was new - she had not seen her before, but she was just as evil, mean and impudent as everyone else. Perhaps this one had even more impudence, and she noted to herself that this one would go far. That girl sat half-sitting in front of him right on the banquet table, coquettishly placing her hand on his shoulder, and burst into loud laughter in response to his words, with her whole appearance expressing a greedy predatory grip under the mask of naive carelessness. Women always occupied first places in his circle. The men crowded behind.

Squeezing the glass in her hand, she seemed to be reading her thoughts on the surface of the golden drink. Flattering, ingratiating smiles accompanied her around her - after all, she was a wife. She had been his wife for a long time, so long that he always emphasized this, which meant that she also had the main role.

Cold water is a miracle. She no longer felt her swollen eyelids. Someone touched her with his elbow:

- Ah. Expensive! – it was an acquaintance, the minister’s wife, – you look great! You are a wonderful couple, I always envy you! It’s so great to live for more than 20 years and maintain such ease in relationships! Always look at each other. Ah, wonderful!

Looking up from her annoying chatter, she really caught his gaze. He looked at her and it was like bubbles in champagne. She smiled her most charming smile, thinking that he deserved a chance…. He did not get up when she approached, and the girls did not even think of leaving when she appeared.

-Are you having fun, dear?

- Yes darling. Everything is fine?

- Wonderful! And you?

– I’m very happy for you, dear.

Their dialogue did not go unnoticed. People around thought “what a lovely couple!” And the journalists present at the banquet noted to themselves that they should mention in the article that the oligarch has such a wonderful wife.

- Dear, will you allow me to say a few words?

Taking her by the arm, he led her away from the table.

-Have you finally calmed down?

- What do you think?

“I think it’s bad to worry at your age!”

- Let me remind you that I am the same age as you!

– It’s different for men!

- Is that so?

- Let's not start over! I'm already tired of your stupid invention that I had to give you flowers today! I have so much to do, I’m spinning like a squirrel in a wheel! You should have thought about that! There was no need to cling to me with all sorts of nonsense! If you want flowers, go buy it for yourself, order it, or even buy a whole store, just leave me alone – that’s all!

She smiled her most charming smile:

- I don’t even remember anymore, dear!

- Is it true? - he was delighted, - and I was so angry when you clung to me with these flowers! I have so much to do, and you come up with all sorts of nonsense!

“It was a little feminine whim.”

- Darling, remember: little feminine whims are allowed only to young beautiful girls, like the ones sitting next to me! But it only irritates you!

- I will remember, my love. Don't be angry, don't be nervous about such trifles!

- It’s very good that you are so smart! I'm lucky with my wife! Listen, darling, we won’t be going back together. The driver will pick you up when you're tired. And I’ll go by myself, in my car, I have some things to do…. And don’t wait for me today, I won’t come to spend the night. I'll only be there for lunch tomorrow. And even then, maybe I’ll have lunch at the office and not return home.

- Will I go alone? Today?!

- Lord, what is it today?! Why are you getting on my nerves all day?

- Yes, I take up so little space in your life...

- What does this have to do with it! You take up a lot of space, you are my wife! And I carry you with me everywhere! So don't start!

- Fine, I will not. I did not want.

- That's good! There is nothing left for you to want!

And, grinning, he returned back, where too many - much more important - were waiting impatiently. From his point of view, more special than his wife. She smiled. Her smile was beautiful. It was an expression of happiness - enormous happiness that could not be contained! Returning to the toilet room again and locking the doors tightly behind her, she took out a small mobile phone.

- I confirm. After half an hour.

In the hall, she again lavished smiles - demonstrating (and she did not need to demonstrate, that’s how she felt) a huge surge of happiness. These were the happiest moments - moments of anticipation... So, beaming, she slipped into the narrow corridor near the service entrance, from where the exit was clearly visible, and clung to the window. Half an hour later, familiar figures appeared in the narrow doors. It was her husband's two guards, and her husband. Her husband hugging the new girl. And the kisser is on the go. Everyone hurried to the shiny black Mercedes, the husband’s latest acquisition, which cost 797 thousand dollars. He loved expensive cars. Loved it very much.

The doors swung open and the dark interior of the car swallowed them completely. The guards remained outside. One was saying something on the radio - probably warning those at the entrance that the car was already coming.

The explosion sounded with deafening force, destroying the hotel's illumination, trees and glass. Everything was mixed up: screams, roar, ringing. Fiery tongues of flame that shot up to the very sky licked the mangled body of the Mercedes, turned into a huge funeral pyre.

She hugged herself by the shoulders and automatically smoothed her hair, enjoying the inner voice: “I gave you the most beautiful red flower! Happy wedding day, dear."

Everything happens in life! And Love has not only Everything, but Everything in the World!

"Zhenya plus Zhenya"

Once upon a time there was a girl, Zhenya... Does this beginning remind you of anything? Yes Yes! The famous and wonderful fairy tale “Tsvetik-Semitsvetik” begins in almost the same way.

In fact, everything starts differently... The girl named Zhenya was eighteen. There were literally a few days left until school graduation. She didn’t expect anything special from the holiday, but she was going to participate (attend) in it. The dress was already prepared. Shoes too.

When graduation day arrived, Zhenya even changed her mind about going where she had planned. But her friend Katya “tuned” her to her previous plans. Zhenya was surprised that for the first time (in her entire life) she was not late for the event. She arrived at it in a second and couldn’t believe her watch!

Her reward for such a “feat” was meeting the guy of her dreams, who, by the way, was also Zhenya’s namesake.

Zhenya and Zhenya dated for nine years. But on the tenth day they decided to get married. We decided and did it! Then we went on a honeymoon to Turkey. In such a romantic period, they also did not leave themselves without “humor”….

They went for a massage. They had this pleasant procedure performed in the same room, but by different people. Since the massage therapists spoke little Russian, the atmosphere was already special. Of course, the specialist massage therapists were interested to know the names of their “guests”. The one who massaged Zhenya asked her name. The second masseuse found out the name of Zhenya’s husband. Apparently, the massage therapists really liked the coincidence of names. And they made one big joke out of it... They started calling Zhenya on purpose so that he and she would turn around, react and flinch. It looked funny!

"The Long-Awaited Boat of Love"

The girl Galya was educated at a private and prestigious higher educational institution. The years passed very quickly for her. In the third year they picked up running because Galochka met her true love. Her aunt bought her a two-room apartment in a good area, and Sasha (her boyfriend) renovated it. They lived peacefully and happily. The only thing that Galya took a long time to get used to was Sasha’s long business trips. He is a sailor. Galya did not see him for four months. The guy came for a week or two and left again. And Galya was bored and waited, waited and missed...

She was more bored and sad because Sanya was against dogs and cats, and Gala was lonely waiting for his return. And then a classmate of a girl turned up who needed an apartment (a room in it). They began to live together, although Sasha was against such living.

Tatyana (Gali’s classmate) changed her life like no one else. This quiet woman who believed in God took Sasha away from Gali. What the girl experienced is known only to her. But a little time passed, and Sasha returned to his beloved. He begged her for forgiveness, because he realized his “harsh” mistake. And Galyunya forgave... Forgave, but did not forget. And he is unlikely to forget. Just like what he told her on that very day of his return: “She was very similar to you. Your main difference is that you were not homely, but Tanya has always been like that. I’m leaving somewhere - I’m calm, I’m not worried that she’ll run away from me somewhere. You are another matter! But I realized that you are the best and I don’t want to lose you.”

Tanya left the lovers' life. Everything started to look up. Now Galka is waiting not only for a boat of love with the owner of her heart, but also for their wedding day. It has already been set and no one is going to change the date.

This life story teaches us that true love never dies, that there are no obstacles in true love.

“New Year’s breakup is the beginning of new love”

Vitaly and Maria fell in love so much that they were already planning to get married. Vitaly gave Masha a ring, confessed his love a thousand times... At first everything was as great as in the movies. But soon the “weather of relationships” began to deteriorate. And the couple no longer celebrated the New Year together... Vitalya called the girl and said the following: “You are very cool! Thank you for everything. I felt incredibly good with you, but we are forced to part. It will be better not only for me, but also for you, believe me! I'll call again." Tears flowed from the girl’s eyes in streams, her lips, hands and cheeks trembled. Her lover hung up... Her beloved left her forever, trampling her love... This happened almost at midnight on New Year's Day...

Maria threw herself on the pillow and continued to cry. She would have been glad to stop, but nothing worked for her. The body did not want to listen to her. She thought: “this is the first New Year’s holiday that I am destined to celebrate in complete solitude and with such deep trauma...”. But the guy who lived in the next entrance “created” a different turn of events for her. What did he do that was so unearthly? He just called and invited her to celebrate a magical holiday. The girl denied it for a long time. It was hard for her to speak (tears got in the way). But the friend “defeated” Maria! She gave up. She got ready, put on her makeup, took a bottle of delicious wine, a bag of delicious sweets, and ran to Andrey (that was the name of her friend - the savior).

A friend introduced her to another friend of his. Who, a few hours later, became her boyfriend. That's how it happens! Andryukha, like the rest of the guests, got very drunk and went to bed. And Maria and Sergei (Andrey’s friend) stayed talking in the kitchen. They didn’t even notice how they met the dawn. And none of the guests believed that nothing but conversations happened between them.

When it was time to go home, Seryozha wrote his mobile number on a crumpled piece of newspaper. Masha did not answer in kind. She promised that she would call. Maybe someone won’t believe it, but she kept her promise a few days later, when the New Year’s bustle had calmed down a little.

When was the next date between Masha and Seryozhka... The first phrase the guy said was: “if you lose something dear, you will definitely find something better!”

Seryozha helped Masha forget the man who brought her millions of suffering. They immediately understood that they loved each other, but were afraid to admit it to themselves...

Continuation. . .

Whatever she did, it was tempting. Eroticism manifested itself in all movements. She was especially inimitable in the kitchen. In a light robe that fits her curves, bursting outward. A man seeing her eating a cucumber, a banana, or licking ice cream could go crazy if he didn't cum. John knew this feature of his wife and therefore created a special diet for her, consisting of spherical and cube-shaped foods. With this approach, he had a chance not to go crazy with lust. No cucumbers, bananas or ice cream. Only his penis is long and cone-shaped. And now Inga, on her knees, licked the head of his penis, pushing back the upper flesh. John tried not to look in order to delay the pleasure...
This is what the young writer Perversev wrote. Erotic scenes were his strong point. He considered himself a most brilliant writer, and much of his genius lay in his frankness.
- What are you writing, dear?
Trofim looked at his wife. Her robe was not tight. It's hard to find clothes that can be wrapped around this knitting needle - any thing looks like it's on a hanger.
“A story, dear,” Trofim muttered.
- What about? - asked the wife.
- About love.
Sonya froze in delight, dreamily looking up at the ceiling.
“About love...” she whispered.
There is a knife in one hand and a headless fish in the other.
- I asked you not to distract me! - Trofim soared.
“Okay, okay,” and Sonya returned to business.
Trofim loved creating his creations in the kitchen. Here you can, without being distracted from writing, drink coffee, smoke a cigarette and replenish your energy reserves by eating something high-calorie. It used to be that a writer should be hungry. Perversev thought differently. The writer must be well-fed. This makes the creator and his works kinder. Previously, they wrote on an empty stomach and what a mess it turned out to be.
- Is it dinner soon? – Trofim asked without raising his head from his genius.
- Soon, honey, soon.
It’s easy and pleasant to release your plump body from your little robe; it just bursts out.
John loved to free Inga from unnecessary clothes. He began to kiss her, often combining business with pleasure, because when making love, it’s so nice to have a light snack. At first, the lovers used fruits: kiwi and strawberries, bananas and watermelons, then they tried meat, and finally fish. Herring is an irreplaceable thing in eroticism...
- So, when is dinner?! Trofim exploded.
“Please, my love,” Sonya put a plate in front of her husband. Boiled potatoes, a couple of pieces of fried pollock and cucumber. Sonya sat down opposite and took a bite of the cucumber. Perversev flinched from the loud sound. Goosebumps ran along my spine. He sighed heavily, buried his face in his plate and broke apart a potato with a fork.
After dinner he continued his life story of John.
But the most delicious fruit was between her legs...

He finished writing at night. In the morning I had to get up and prepare a financial report for my boss. He hesitated for another minute, fantasizing that instead of a report he was giving her his story and she, stunned with excitement, would fuck him, and went to bed.
He crawled under the blanket. Sonya was snoring, she was lying on her side, curled up, he lifted her nightie, and he stood up. All of John's stress transferred to him. He lowered Sonya's panties, lubricated the head of his penis with saliva and inserted it. Several frictions were not easy - a little dry. He groped her skinny bottom (it’s useless to touch her breasts - it’s like touching pimples) and moved dynamically.
“Oooh,” he sighed and came.
- Yes, honey, did you want something? – Sonya woke up.
“No, honey, nothing,” Trofim answered. - Good night.
He turned his back to her and quickly fell asleep.

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