Women are not unicorns

Relationships were restored, love became stronger, life got a little better.

"Flirting."

Flirting is a special type of betrayal that you should pay attention to as a trigger. This, of course, is not yet betrayal itself, but it is already close.

Who has never flirted in your life while being paired with another partner, stand up, I will give you a medal. We will all applaud and add you to the Red Book.

And we, earthly sinners, will continue to discuss bad deeds.

Kidding.

Flirting is a special way for a woman to feel attractive and sexy. When her libido is off the charts, it would be better for her husband to notice this and start flirting with her. Not openly, of course, he declared: “let’s go to bed,” but he was flirting.

We don't like monotony. The same man with the same approaches: “baby, you’re so sexy today, let’s go to bed” is bland, just like we are boring for them, probably when we don’t try to prettify ourselves and play different roles a little.

So, if a woman’s panties are stuck to the ceiling from another man, good luck, this is a bell. Not because we have a free-spirited nature, but because some other male representative turned out to be more charismatic than ours.

In the rented apartment where my husband and I lived in the poor twelfth year, a neighbor lived permanently. A tall eighteen-year-old guy with wild narcissism and good looks.

It seemed to me that he fell in love with me and every now and then he stopped himself from making any hints about the relationship between us, because I was busy.

I allowed myself to see him as a man, not a child, and flirt a little. What did all this lead to?

One evening, when my husband was on a business trip, I couldn’t get through on the phone.

And finally, at the other end of the phone, I hear the voice of a drunken Vladislav:

— I most likely won’t come again. I'm fine. Be happy. Bye.

I suddenly wanted to take a rock (not a rolling pin) and scratch his head. I was so angry. Did he really not have the courage to say everything to my face, to leave me sober? Finally, listen.

I lit a cigarette and cursed out loud. Mark saw me on the balcony upset and so defenseless that his instinct to take care of the poor woman took over.

We hugged, I shared a cigarette with him:

— Let's go to the bar.

— But my father won’t let me. (He was, it seems, not yet eighteen then)

— I'll agree. I pay for everything too.

— Then, of course, yes. “The guy’s eyes shone, and I felt like an old slut, even though I was only twenty-five.

Would it be cheating if we slept together then? No, because they abandoned me.

But that would be an act of pedophilia, and I didn’t want to go to prison at all.

The boy, you know, was already hardened, dating a married woman and various others. Sex had become firmly established in his life by that time. But I knew myself. Firstly, I didn’t want to break the law. Secondly, if it later turned out that Vladislav finally changed his mind about leaving, then how would I carry such a burden on myself.

The mom of exactly the same guy ruined everything in the same way. His parents had been arguing for a long time and everything was heading towards a breakup. They even voiced this intention to each other. And a fifty-year-old woman, a mother of four children, took on a lover.

Later, when everything became clear, she and her husband divorced, but her husband kept saying that if it weren’t for the betrayal, there was still a chance for recovery.

I remember his words perfectly. That's why I never even decided to kiss Mark.

We had a great game of billiards, drank whiskey, had a heart-to-heart chat, and then took a taxi home drunk.

I felt good, I forgot, not a single tear fell the whole evening. Perhaps I even made it up, and the guy just wanted to be a friend. But I know one hundred percent that if I had given free rein to my hormones, sex would have happened.

A woman usually doesn’t have to spend much time persuading a man who is interested in her.

David, remember, first love, was not interested in me, and it was obvious. Here they looked at me with admiration, their mouths slightly open.

The next day I decided to avoid him. Since then, we have become very distant, which Mark obviously didn’t like, but he didn’t have the courage to admit. Although there was a case when he deliberately, knowing that I was the first of the neighbors to return from work, sat at home naked at the table. He pretended to be surprised and went to put on his pants. However, I forever understood that there was still flirting. It ended with this incident, but it definitely happened.

"Marriage."

“How to marry a millionaire”, “Ten ways to get married”, “Three sure tips for marriage” and so on.

Now the shelves in bookstores are full of such “works.” Some people write robots. You know, programs are simply compiled from different books, and then the author adds a little soul to it so that it looks realistic and there is no plagiarism.