My best man

In the morning, I remembered that today is the fifteenth of September. It turns out two years have already passed. Two years since the day of my wedding that never happened…

Sergei was very angry with me back then. So angry that he didn't even want to talk. Honestly, I was only glad. What was there to talk about? Such love was here! Now, remembering it, I seem like a fool to myself. But back then, I felt like I was flying above the ground from happiness.

Lyosha was… ordinary. I met him exactly a week before the wedding. Sergei himself introduced us. I still remember not even his smile, but his smirk:

— And this is my childhood friend. Alexandra. Alexei.

Tanned almost black, slender,

short next to Seryozhka. Hair bleached clearly by a foreign sun. In short, nothing attractive for me. My ideal is a very tall and necessarily red-haired athlete. I even looked at Sergei for the first time because of his hair. It was hard to resist not to lick them, at least mentally. I met such a treasure on a beach in Turkey, and early in the morning at that. There was no one else there. So he saw me too.

He explained later that he burns instantly in the sun. And he went there to vacation because of his girlfriend's persistent requests. So he spent his days holed up in the room, risking swimming only in the mornings and evenings.

Then Seryozhka tracked me down at home. We exchanged numbers in Kemer. And we saw each other there more than once. And already in E., he started courting me. Where that girlfriend, who essentially introduced us, went, I never asked.

I didn't love Sergei. I didn't love anyone back then, really. Well, I was a little infatuated. But he was reliable, solid. And very persistent. He insisted I introduce him to my parents — and my mother immediately started calling Seryozhka my fiancé. And then he proposed marriage.

Why did I agree? I don't know. Probably to be like everyone else.

In bed with him, it was not bad. He was quite reliable there too. He would caress and kiss for a long time. He loved to pleasure me with his tongue. And he simply melted from a blowjob. It seems none of his girlfriends enjoyed pleasuring a cock with their lips. But I always liked it — the feeling of such power over a man. A hot, velvety shaft, veins standing out on it and pulsating from the touch of the tongue. The thin skin hiding the split, smooth head. And the man's moans when, from my movements, the cock tenses, starts to tremble and ejaculate thick fluid.

Sergei tried hard too. And I wasn't cold in response — I kissed and caressed back. I even had an orgasm a couple of times. I never got to feel that with other lovers. So I was sincerely grateful to Seryozhka.

Lyosha was waiting for me in the yard when I had to go out to the store for bread in the evening.

— You? Where did you come from? — I was simply bewildered when I saw him getting up from the bench in the center of the small courtyard.

— Waiting for you.

— What happened? Did Sergei send you? — What nonsense am I saying? We just talked recently — he called from home.

— No. Just wanted to see you…

— See me? — I was completely lost. — Why?

He smiled. Probably at that moment I was lost. I had never seen a brighter smile on anyone. I looked at him as if spellbound.

— I liked you. And me to you…

I snapped out of it:

— Are you crazy? I'm getting married in a week. To your friend!

— Seryoga and I were friends as kids. Lived in the same yard, studied in the same class. Then somehow lost touch.

— So what? He's not your friend anymore?

— Probably now just an acquaintance. And I'm going to steal his bride.

He's going to steal me from Sergei? What nonsense…

— Nonsense. I don't even like you.

Except I did like him. Very much. And he knew how to court.

I cheated on Sergei with him three days later. Another one of my foolish acts. We had argued, and not for the first time, about the upcoming wedding. Seryozhka wanted to do everything "as is customary." He insisted on a white dress, a veil, and even a bridal bouquet. Although somehow it turned out he never once gave me flowers himself. He generally only gave practical gifts — a washing machine, for example. On one hand, a necessary and convenient thing… But I wanted romance. I lacked "candy and bouquet" courtship. And then he also invited a huge number of his relatives to the wedding. The whole preparation was tedious for me — so I took it out on him. He, however, paid no attention to my hysterics, solving all issues with the parents, his and mine.

Lyosha gave me flowers every day. Yellow, my favorite. When I first saw him with bright yellow roses, I asked:

— Is this for separation?

— What separation? We just met!

— Why yellow then?

— They suit you… What kind do you like?

I've preferred yellow flowers all my life — any, large and small, garden and wild. And it never occurred to Sergei to ask about that. He generally decided everything for both of us. I even liked it at first.

Then, after the argument with my fiancé, I met Lyosha again in my yard. He approached with a smile, but, seeing me, simply hugged me and held me tight. It turned out that was exactly what I needed. He let me cry, didn't ask about anything, even walked me to the entrance. And kissed me.

We stopped a few more times to kiss.

— No, we can't do this. I'll lay you down right here. — He was practically dragging me along. We passed by some people, he even said something to someone — but I didn't understand what or to whom.

And then there was a room and a bed. What happened to me seemed like a fantasy. In the morning, lying next to him and listening to his quiet breathing, I remembered every minute of the past night and realized with horror that I could have never known this. Never known what real passion is.

He undressed me, kissing every bit of exposed skin. And inside me, it was as if fire was spreading. I also wanted to touch him. My clothes were in the way, and I pulled them off, threw them aside, stroked his hot skin and repeated the movements of my hands with my lips. I wanted him so much that I simply pulled him to me, onto me. He was perfect. He fit me so well that he seemed like a part of me. His lips, hands, his cock moving inside gave incredible pleasure. I came immediately, as soon as he entered me. Didn't even know such pleasure was possible. He covered my mouth with kisses, then whispered, moving inside me: "Quiet, quiet, my good girl… So loud…"

His words didn't calm me at all. After the first wave of pleasure came a second. My lover, without stopping, moved. His movements became deeper and faster, and a loud exhale, like a moan, gave me immense pleasure. Lyosha froze, and I felt him tremble, spilling.

Then he lay down next to me. Rested a bit, calming his breathing, and leaned over me again:

— I won't give you up. Don't marry him.

I looked at a complete stranger. And understood that there really wouldn't be a wedding. With Sergei, I never felt anything like that in bed. And with anyone before him. Though it's hard to call me an experienced woman. Lyosha is my fourth man.

The first was a guy from our school — a year older and no more experienced than me. He had his graduation, we partied until morning, kissed and somehow unnoticeably broke away from the others. I brought him to my place — my parents were on another expedition, and my grandmother was working the night shift. I wanted to give Stas a gift — so I gave him myself. Sounds idiotic, but unfortunately, I was never distinguished by great intelligence.

Blood! How could I not have thought! It was wet under me. I slid off the bed. A big stain, surely not just the sheet got wet. And it dripped onto the floor immediately. I ran to the bathroom.

Nothing more happened between me and Stas. Soon he left for Moscow, for university. I think he was a bit ashamed — at least, he never tried to repeat it. Or maybe he didn't like me…

— You're looking at me like you don't know whether to kill me or beg me.

— You bastard. You know what I need.

— If you need it — beg. Thoroughly. — He laughed.

However, I couldn't consider myself a passionate lover. So-so, mediocre — didn't find anything special in such games. And even when I discovered that I was far from the only one attracting Mark's attention, I wasn't particularly upset. Marrying him was definitely not worth it — you can't keep someone like that for long, and I didn't want to become a public laughingstock. We fought, made up, then another one of his girlfriends would make a scene. After one such story, I went on vacation to Turkey. And there I met Sergei.

I canceled the wedding.

Lyosha was incredibly happy:

— Leska, I love you! Never met a better woman! Marry me!

Good thing I had enough sense to refuse. Actually, thanks to my mom. Learning there wouldn't be a wedding, she was very upset. Then she asked:

— Don't rush. If you want — try, live with this guy of yours. — Mom sighed. — It didn't turn out well for you, not right. He's no good. Well, figure it out yourself…

We really did rent an apartment. And the first two months were like a honeymoon. At least for me. Everything worked out, everything succeeded. I found a new job that I incredibly liked. And at home, my adored husband was waiting.

Lyosha was a magnificent lover — tireless, hot. I liked everything that happened with us in bed. He didn't accept half-measures — I don't remember a single time he couldn't give me pleasure. Always different — gentle and attentive, passionate and demanding. Mine.

Over time, the passion subsided a little. It seemed to me I was no longer burning in it, but simply glowing. Steadily and constantly. Even my acquaintances told me I had become a beauty.

Until everything happened like in an old joke. erotic stories The wife unexpectedly returned home from a business trip… Well, not exactly a wife. And not exactly unexpected — just the flight was changed, and I arrived in the evening, not the next morning. The light was on in the kitchen, I opened the door with my key — imagining how Lyosha's eyes would light up at the sight of me, how he would smile, how happy he would be that we would have one extra night — he was leaving for a three-month shift in ten days.

I entered and heard voices. Male. Lyosha and… Sergei? Wow. Made up, huh? Not fighting, talking peacefully…

— I arranged everything as promised. Here's the PIN code. Put it in your pocket, or you'll lose it later. And tomorrow go check. There are ten grand, as we said. If you want, we can go to the ATM together? It's only a five-minute walk.

— I believe you anyway. But if you want, I'll check tomorrow and call you back.

— Yeah. And what are you going to do with Leska? Did she really fall for you?

— You doubted? — I thought I could even hear a smile in his voice. I don't understand anything. What needs to be done with me? — Why do anything? I'm leaving soon anyway.

— What, just leave? Not even warn her?

— Oh, come on. She'll figure it out herself. And you won't let her disappear, right? — Lyosha was already openly laughing. Not in a good way. Maliciously.

I stepped into the kitchen. Lyosha saw me first, and his face showed… a snarl, maybe? Not even a smile. Then Sergei turned around.

— What were you talking about here? What am I supposed to figure out?

I looked from one to the other. And really didn't want to find out anything.

— You're back already? So early?

Sergei for some reason blushed. Redheads blush easily, and he turned almost burgundy.

— Sergei?

— What debt? What is he talking about?

— Oh, it's an old story. Nothing for you to know.

Lyosha smiled at me, now quite sincerely. And I realized with horror that he was lying to me for some reason. Though what was so terrible about it? What, I never lied to anyone myself? But something in my world had already broken, I just didn't understand what yet.

Only before his departure did I dare to bring up the conversation again:

— Lyosh, will you come back?

— Of course! What are you saying? I love you!

But for some reason, I felt bad. Everything inside clenched with bad premonitions.

— Will you call me?

— I'll call as soon as I land. Can't from the plane. — He smiled at me. Kissed me again and again. And I barely held back tears.

He didn't call. At all. His plane landed safely. I checked. Probably just threw away the SIM card. Like me from his life. But why?

I didn't even cry.

The world around just faded. I didn't want to talk about Lyosha with anyone, not even with my mom. I changed apartments, rented a new one near work, in a different part of the city where there was no risk of running into acquaintances. The only thing that pleased me was business trips. The longer and farther, the better.

However, Sergei came to see me. Every time with flowers. First to work. I started hiding, leaving through the back exit or staying late. Then he waited for me in the yard at home.

I was so tired I didn't even have the strength to talk. Saw him from afar — he was pacing near the entrance with a bouquet of yellow roses. What's with him? Did he become a romantic?

— Hi. You look tired… Not sick, are you?

— Hi. No, thank you, I'm fine.

— These are for you. — He handed me the roses.

— Thanks. But why yellow?

He was clearly embarrassed:

— Well, you like them.

— I do. But how did you know?

— Your mom told me. A long time ago. — He averted his eyes. I sighed.

— Seryozh, what did you want?

— To see you.

— You saw me. That's all?

— No… Want to go to a restaurant, have dinner? Or to the movies?

—