Katya
"All right, girls, no slacking! Plié, and one, and two, and three. Hold it, endure!"
Today Inna, the coach of our mini-group, a young sweet girl, was absolutely brutal! We practically crawled out of the gym.
"When I feel like spitting and quitting the gym, I tell myself: it's all for a firm ass!" Olya said and slapped her bare butt. I dropped my towel too and twisted the tap, directing the hot water onto myself.
"Katka's married, she can relax," she tried to shout over the water.
"You can never relax with men," Sveta replied. "The moment you do…"
"I can hear everything!" I warned, before they started discussing my husband.
"Oh come on, Katya, we know your Vadim isn't like that," Olya said coquettishly.
"Especially with an ass like yours," Sveta gave my butt a friendly squeeze.
"Girls, you sound like lesbians," I pulled the towel around myself. "Vadim should start getting jealous."
"He'll never know."
"And do you know what conclusion I came to from the annual report?" Sveta asked very seriously. "That in the premium segment, husbands and wives don't go to the same fitness club. At all! I'm telling you that as a sales director."
"I wonder why?" I widened my eyes as if I had no idea. The answer, really, was obvious.
"It's obvious why," Olya shrugged, "so there's more room for fucking around. To bang those cute fitness girls."
I smiled sweetly. Vadim and I also went to different fitness clubs, and I trusted my husband, but the teasing from two unmarried (one single, the other divorced) pedigreed hotties was getting old. If Sveta didn't mean harm, Olya sometimes really crossed the line. She was, in general, a rather random acquaintance who had attached herself to us a couple of years ago and just stayed. Sveta, though, had been my friend since university.
"Oh come on, Katyusha," Sveta hugged me. "Vadim still looks at you like a cat looks at lard."
Yes, of course. Of course… We'd been together for ten years, nine of them married. Our relationship had started in such a way that no one could have imagined a positive outcome, but we had a daughter, a family, and that very thing: something important, strong, reliable. Infatuation had turned into love. We were happy. With our ups and downs, like all living people. But not long ago, a strange feeling had settled inside me. It was hard to describe in words, but everyone had felt it at least once in their life. A knot in the stomach, a vague anxiety whose origin couldn't really be explained. I constantly went over events, tasks, conversations in my memory, trying to understand what was bothering me, but I couldn't find any obvious reasons. I was probably worried about my husband. He had completely driven himself into the ground dealing with problems around the frozen construction project. Tense and irritated almost constantly for the past month. Sometimes withdrawn and thoughtful, and always busy. There was very little time left for the family. And for me too.
I smiled, not cheerfully at all, while the girls weren't looking: I was a happy woman with a firm ass who was starving for affection. Vadim had always had a healthy sexual appetite, but we had stopped syncing up: either he was working late, or I was so exhausted I fell asleep the moment my head touched the pillow. I hoped the construction issue would be resolved soon and we'd return to our usual rhythm.
That evening, I decided to take the initiative despite everything. It had been a long time since I'd tempted my husband!
"Daddy!" Nika ran out of the bathroom when she heard footsteps. Vadim was back. I didn't want to dwell on it, but I looked at the clock: it was past nine-thirty.
"And Mom said: bath and bed already," Nika was chirping in the meantime.
"Well, if Mom said so," he kissed the top of my head and set our daughter down on the floor. She had gotten so tall! When he picked her up, it became especially noticeable how much Nika had stretched out. "Then you have to go. You go bathe, and Mom will feed me, then I'll read to you. Deal?"
"Deal!"
"Hi," I came up and helped him take off his jacket. "Hungry?" I asked as gently as possible. I was trying very hard not to reproach him for being late again. I didn't drink, but we, his family, needed attention too. Vadim was a manager, and one of the key skills of an effective manager was the ability to delegate! Why this time he was personally and deeply controlling the entire process—I didn't understand.
"Very," he answered thoughtfully and went to the second bathroom. While I was setting the table for dinner and Vadim was taking a shower, Nika finished her bath and announced that she was hungry again. They spent another hour in the dining room, then reading. At eleven, he finally came out of the nursery—at last, we were alone!
"Katya, I still need to do some work," he hugged me from behind and lightly kissed my cheek. "Please make me some coffee."
"Coffee?!" I exclaimed, and my tone was outraged. How long was Vadim planning to stay up?! "How are you even going to sleep at all?!"
"But I'm not sleepy," he said rather coolly and went into his study.
Now I was definitely a nagging wife. My husband had told me he needed to work, not go drinking with friends in some bar (or even worse—with girlfriends), and I was irritated. Okay, I'd fix my attitude.
I made him an Americano, put a piece of dark chocolate on the saucer and a small glass of cool water beside it. I took the tray and went to apologize.
I entered quietly. Vadim didn't even lift his head, just kept scrolling the mouse. At that moment, it even worked in my favor. I stepped softly across the carpet and looked at my husband: in the gentle half-darkness, lit by the desk lamp, he looked serious and focused. His thick brows were drawn together, his dark hair still held transparent moisture, and his white T-shirt stretched across his broad chest. Vadim had boxed in his youth: he fought both legally and also entertained himself with underground fights. He hadn't neglected training even now, which was why at thirty-five he didn't just have a good shape—he had a strong muscular body with long legs, a broad back, and a smooth bronze chest. My husband was a handsome man, though his character was not always angelic. Vadim saw the goal and sometimes didn't see any boundaries at all. Possibly, if he had given up after my tenth (not even first!) refusal, I wouldn't now be bringing him coffee at midnight.
"Your coffee, Mr. Polonsky," I said playfully and set the tray on the desk. Without waiting for an invitation, I sat on his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. My silk slip rode up, exposing my smooth thighs, and one strap fell down, sensually emphasizing my breasts.
"Damn!"
I must have nudged the mouse and one of the windows on the monitor closed.
"I have important negotiations tomorrow, and I need to prepare, and you're distracting me," he said without malice, but I tensed. My husband had always been busy and had gotten irritated more than once if someone bothered him while he worked, but this time it stung especially sharply.
Still, I tried not to focus on it and caught his lips—after all, I had already distracted him anyway! But Vadim pulled back and started typing something actively on the computer.
"Did something happen?" I asked quietly.
"No, why would you think that?"
I was pierced by the persistent feeling that I wanted to climb into his thoughts and he didn't want to let me in. Vadim had always shared his problems, so why was he pulling away now?
"I don't know… You seem tense."
"The new head of the housing department is fucking with my brain. I need to deal with him."
"I see…" I got up, not wanting to force myself on him any further. Right now my husband felt somehow not like mine. Already at the doorway, I turned back: "I love you."
"I love you too, Katya," Vadim answered very seriously. I smiled: he was sincere. In ten years, we had gone through various upheavals: Vadim had disappeared on construction sites for days and nights. Surely he was giving bribes again. I hated our state system. Nothing but corruption and connections. My husband accepted those rules of the game (his father had been in power all his life: mayor, governor, now minister), but it revolted me. That was why Vadim didn't involve me, so I wouldn't burn up over it.
I left the study, but didn't go to the bedroom. I always slept badly if he wasn't next to me, so I took my laptop and went to the balcony-loggia. It was large, warm, and very cozy. I had combined Provence and country style and ended up with a soft feminine refuge. My study.
I set the glass teapot on its stand and lit the candle underneath it. I smelled the vase of pale yellow tea roses and struck a long match—the thick candles on the wide windowsill flickered with orange-blue flames. Outside, snow was swirling, and around me it was warm and smelled like honey. I got so absorbed in arranging the schedule for new students on the online platform of the language school, studying their questionnaires, that I lost track of time. So I only blinked in surprise when Vadim pounced on me.
"It's three in the morning, why are you sitting here?"
"I'm waiting for you," I said, completely puzzled.
"A wife usually waits in bed at night, not hiding in the dark."
"It's not dark here," I snapped weakly. God was my witness, I had been very patient today! I got up and started extinguishing the candles. "Maybe I should have spread my legs and silently waited for your royal attention?"
"Doggy style would be better."
"And should I wag my tail too?" I was starting to get angry, and Vadim seemed to be getting amused. And aroused. That had already become noticeable.
"Do you have a tail?" he playfully grabbed the hem of my slip. I wasn't going to surrender or match his mood. I was offended!
"I won't show you, and anyway, I'm going to sleep."
"It's too late to sleep."
Vadim pulled me to him possessively and yanked the silk slip off me, squeezed my thighs with painful aggression, and pressed me into himself. His soft pants didn't restrain the heavy hardness, letting me fully feel his power and strength. Not only his body was big and strong. He sat me on the wide partition and latched onto my breasts, biting my nipples.
"Ow!" I sucked in air sharply. It hurt. But he didn't react, throwing himself onto my body with some desperate wildness. As if he were seeing me for the first time: studying me quickly, conquering me without the right to refuse, intoxicating me with fevered passion. As if I might be taken away, stolen from him.
Vadim pulled off his shirt and, throwing it aside, sharply turned me over, putting me into that notorious doggy-style position. I was high up—it wasn't so easy to fit behind me—but I was still surprised when he spread my legs wide and gently licked my center with his tongue.
Vadim teased my clit while harshly fucking me with his fingers at the same time. I got very wet, moaning quietly, moving in rhythm, obeying his pace, taking in that towering pressure. We didn't change places for sex as often anymore (rarely, to be honest), and that was a shame. Who cared if my knees hurt!
"Moan louder, Malvina…" he whispered hotly into my ear, but I held back, afraid our daughter would hear. Vadim understood it in his own way: not sharp enough to make me scream. He pressed on the back of my head and my hips, pinned me to the surface, literally stretched me out, and rammed the hard length into my entrance. I was ready, but I still felt the invasion like a sudden flash of pain. Vadim leaned over me from above, pinned me down with his muscular body, flattening my breasts.
Rough, hard, sharp thrusts, strong fingers on my thighs, and my long hair clutched in a firm grip. Vadim was aggressive today in general: not only in business, but in sex too.
"Touch me," I asked raggedly, understanding that this was too much for me. From behind, I always felt very sharply how his long shaft struck my cervix.
Vadim only increased the pace, not hearing me, driving into me like a madman. I gripped the wooden lid with one hand, slipped the other beneath my belly, lower, to my swollen clit. Every powerful thrust pushed me onto my fingers, fanning the flame his skillful tongue had ignited.
I didn't have time to come; Vadim drove into me one last time and pulled out, coming over my buttocks and back as if marking his territory. I was on birth control, but if he was in a savage mood, so be it.
I was about to finish myself off with my fingers, but my husband suddenly flipped me over again and pressed his lips to the very core of my femininity. Wildly and possessively, and I flew to heaven in maybe twenty seconds.
"Ahh…" now I was moaning very loudly. When I opened my eyes, Vadim's thoughtful gaze was wandering across my face.
"What?" I was embarrassed by the heavy silence and even drew my legs together.
He shook his head, kissed my knee, and went to the shower. When I cleaned myself up and came into the bedroom, Vadim was already asleep. On his stomach, pillow tossed aside, blanket thrown off. I carefully sat down next to him, ran his thick dark hair through my fingers. Even in his sleep, Vadim was frowning tensely. I lightly traced over his brows, soothing, smoothing them out.
"What is happening to you?" I asked quietly. "What is tormenting you…"
Vadim
"We've studied the regulatory documentation and are ready to approve the construction project," Vika said businesslike when we were alone in the office. Hallelujah! "But you need to change the general contractor."
What?! What the hell for?! We'd been working with Trelona for five years, the best quality at a reasonable price.
"Victoria Sergeyevna," when we talked about business we switched to full names, not without sarcasm of course, "on what grounds?"
Now that we were alone, we could leave the demagoguery and diplomacy aside.
"On the grounds that it will reduce the unjustifiably inflated cost estimates."
"I doubt the esteemed commission is worried about Vershina's money," I commented dryly. Naturally, I understood exactly what she was hinting at. They were encouraging their own kickback people.
"I think you know what to do with the difference in the estimates," Vika tossed out casually.
Zimina had integrated into the system very quickly, which was unpleasant from a financial point of view, but impressive in terms of her strength and grip. I was absolutely biased, because it was completely against my nature to admire officials who hinted at bribes. But Vika unexpectedly understood the construction stages well, precisely noting the nuances. And her feminine charm conquered me, though she in no way encouraged or inflamed my interest. She didn't even allow flirtation, only sometimes her vivid gaze lingered on me when she thought I didn't notice. And I forced the wicked thoughts away, but the tension was off the charts, and sometimes I had to stop myself when in my fantasies I had already undressed her and was exploring that lush body with my lips.
Even now I shook my head, turning away, lowering the temperature: smoke would start pouring from my groin if I didn't calm down.
"I'm flattered that the very chairwoman of the state housing commission is concerned about my business," I answered ironically.
"And I'm flattered that the CEO of such a large business personally handles paperwork."
Yes, this time I had dug very deep into the project.
She held out her hand to me, and I touched her palm. Electricity shot through me, and Vika exhaled noisily somehow, but didn't pull her fingers away. We just stood there, silently devouring each other with our eyes. She felt the forbidden pull too, now I knew that for sure. And she stayed cold and kept her distance for obvious reasons. I, too, morally oriented myself around my marriage, but it was hard to fight temptation. Very hard. But I was trying.
Even at home it was becoming difficult to remain in reality and not fall into the arms of impermissible thoughts. It was hard to control: desire couldn't be managed. I loved my wife. I loved my Malvina. But now, when she hugged me, I wanted other touches. Her closeness didn't irritate me, but I feared the moment when it would. And I was afraid of it. If it had been possible to rip out my attraction to Vika, I would have torn it out by the roots and thrown it away without regret, but vice and temptation were treacherous, and I was burning in them.
The shower door opened, and I felt a flexible hot body press against me from behind. Gentle hands on my back. It wasn't Vika, the one I had been thinking about just now. It was Katya, my wife.
"You don't mind showering together?" she asked cheerfully, sliding over my tense stomach toward my groin.
I reacted before I even understood it with my head. I removed her hands and turned to face her.
"I was just leaving," and I lightly kissed her on the forehead. Katya blinked her long dark lashes in shock, but lowered her hands.
I grabbed a fluffy towel and wiped my face. Fuck, had I just refused sex to my wife? Not wanted her near me? That scared me. I turned to the fogged-up glass door, trying to penetrate it with my gaze: the water was running, and I thought I could hear Katya's tears.
"No, this is fucked-up and unhealthy," I cursed quietly and went back into the steamy haze.
Katya stood with her back to me, lifting her face to the scalding streams, while her hands with the shower gel slid over her slender body.
She was tall: with endlessly long legs and a smooth line of back. And an ass, firm and round. Her blonde hair had darkened and grown heavy from the water, reaching all the way to her waist. Perfection, and I wasn't flattering my choice of life partner, it was simply the truth. From the first glance, from the moment I saw her—I fell hard, never thought of another woman, and that was what tore me apart: shame, the duality of the situation, the fact that I looked at the woman I had sworn not to hurt and betrayed her in my thoughts. But this was no time for mental torment, the primitive and the wild pushed the pangs of conscience out of my head. A rush of arousal flooded me, making the shaft twitch with tension, the head pulse with the influx of life.
"Were you offering me something, hmm?" now I pressed against her from behind, so fragile in my arms. For a tall woman, Katya was astonishingly graceful and feminine, with narrow feet and delicate ankles. Not some square block.
"You seemed to be leaving?" she turned around and arrogantly lifted her chin. She was offended.
"I came back," and I ran my thumb over her lips, tugged the lower one down and slipped the pad of my thumb into the wet warmth. My cock responded with painful heaviness. It wanted her mouth too.
I slid my other hand between her shapely legs, parting the delicate lower lips. I pushed a finger into her entrance and gathered up the crystal slickness. Angry, but aroused. She had always been impulsive and spirited, age and motherhood had softened her, of course—now we knew how to find compromises—but her essence was the same.
I pressed on her shoulders to make her sink lower and thrust into her hot mouth. Katya took me very naturally, without throat tricks, but hot and with soul. She knew how to get the blood moving through my veins so it rushed where it was needed. And now I thought of nothing, only of how like a piston I rhythmically drove toward the point of pleasure.
"Touch yourself," I ordered hoarsely and placed my palm on the root, freeing up her hands. Katya immediately took advantage and began rubbing the little pearl. I saw her flare up. Saw her tremble like a tight spring. Saw her break apart, exploding in orgasm. It drove me on and I started thrusting more aggressively, more insistently. Crushing barriers, pushing deep into her throat. Tears burst from her eyes, and I drove in harder, rougher, twisting the spiral of pleasure tighter.
"Hold on, my Malvina," and I pulled her hair hard, yanking it back. The head burst like a fountain when I drove in one last time and sharply pulled out, coming over her neck and chest. The sight of my seed on a beautiful female body aroused me. Katya was my wife, and between us there could be no prohibitions.
"Come here," I lifted her easily and kissed her plump, thoroughly fucked lips.
"Polonsky, you're a savage," she laughed when I started soaping her up with the sponge like she was a little girl.
I got into bed almost happy, but couldn't fall asleep. My calm had been blown away as if by wind—I had to get up. I wanted a smoke.
"To hell with IQOS," I cursed quietly and pulled out a pack of Parliament. I opened the balcony door with its tiny decorative ledge and stepped out into the frosty February night. My bare torso instantly caught fire as if red-hot needles had been stuck into it, but I lit up, silently contemplating nighttime winter Moscow.
What a fucking mess it was, trying to sit on two chairs at once. It had been good with Katya, very pleasant, but too familiar, too ordinary. We'd been together for ten years, and our unrestrained passion had grown calmer. But I had no right to complain: I still wanted my wife, and she looked so good it was impossible to stay indifferent, but… There was always a "but." I had met Vika, and she had spilled over me like sparkling champagne. She reminded me of the past. Of our explosive youth. They don't say for nothing that the older you get, the brighter the past becomes. Trees were greener, ice cream tasted better, and all the other nonsense old bastards say. I'd have thought I had become like that too, if I weren't walking around with a permanent hard-on.
I had promised Katya, my Malvina, that I wouldn't hurt her, wouldn't betray her, that she could trust me, and now I wasn't sure I could keep my word. But if I fucked Zimina quietly just once, would it let me go? Katya would never find out. Psychologists always say you have to close your gestalts.
"Yeah…"
Of course, one time doesn't make you a faggot, but all it took was crossing the line once, breaking your principles, and the boundaries of what was permissible would inevitably blur. That was true in business, in politics, in love, and in loyalty to that feeling and to the woman you felt it for.
I stubbed out the cigarette. I was reasoning like a complete bastard, but honestly. You could tie your dick in a knot, but fighting attraction was harder. Two women in one life—those kinds of swings make you sick to your stomach. A hell of a challenge to my self-control. Hopefully I wouldn't crack.
I got pretty damn cold, having thought of nothing at all, and fell asleep with the idea that I needed to give Katya something impressive. Looks like I was already starting to "apologize"…