Читать онлайн полностью бесплатно Юрий Буреве - Night call. The erotic novel of infidelity

Night call. The erotic novel of infidelity

In the quiet alleys of the city, hidden from prying eyes, the world of passions and secrets comes to life. Here, people's feelings and desires generate fantasies and vices.

Книга издана в 2024 году.

Chapter 1. Bag

– Look, what a cool cafe.

– Let's go in here.

– Went.

Then a very polite waiter approached them and offered them a menu and, at the same time, a choice of drinks from the wine list.

– Jan, what will you eat?

– The same as you. Choose to your taste. I need to make a call to work.

He left the cafe and started calling someone emotionally, but nothing could be heard through the thick glass and walls.

Diana sat and thought:

– Maybe he’s calling his mistress, just brazenly?

– They brought pipes yesterday, but they are not suitable for connecting hot water pipes,– he explained to the director, more calmly, with his arm stretched out at his sides.

Having finished the conversation, he went back in when the hot food had already been brought. Diana had already started eating, praising the cuisine, and Jan joined in with pleasure.

– I've enjoyed my stay.

– We'll come again on the weekend. I'll be driving, so I won't have any wine. If you want, you can order some. But don't get drunk, I won't drag you, – he told his wife with a serious face, but with his eyes narrowed.

– We'll go now.

The music that played very quietly in the cafe attracted them and did not want to let them go, even after they had already paid the bill.

The road home took half an hour, we had to go through a backup road, since the repairs on the main road had been going on for half a year and were not going to be finished. Workers sometimes showed up there, then there was no one for weeks.

They stood at an intersection, and Diana reached for a bottle of water that was lying on the back seat.

And then he turned on the air flow in the cabin, so that her skirt rose up, revealing a very thin flesh-colored thong underneath, which was no longer visible from a short distance.

A man crossing the road is stuck in this picture, frozen in place, as people walk past him, pushing his shoulders.

– What are you standing there for, gaping mouth? The grandmother shouted and walked past him.

The joke didn't work, and Diana was unhappy when she saw a man staring at her.

– So what? Do you like the way another man looks at your woman? – Diana said angrily.

– This is a joke.

– A joke?! Holy shit!

She rode silently the entire way until they reached the elevator. As she entered, she grabbed his balls and crotch to test his hardness, and when she was sure he was hard:

– You did it on purpose. You naughty boy,– Diana said and tried to pinch Jan's buttocks, but she couldn't do it because her hands just couldn't reach.

He didn't answer, put his arm around her waist, and they reached the floor and went into their apartment. The hallway was quite spacious and lined with shelves on the sides, and the lighting turned on automatically, but also turned off after a long period of silence.

Having placed the bags of groceries they had bought on their way from the café for the weekend on the floor, Diana went to the bathroom. Ian carried them to the kitchen, placing them on the shelves and in the refrigerator on the fly, and he did this quite carefully and precisely.

While his wife went out, washing off her makeup, he was already making tea, laying out the dessert they had bought at the store. It was a small cream soufflé cake, quite pretty to look at, with roses and braided patterns. It looked quite delicious, and Yana immediately sat down at the table.

At home she liked to walk around in just a T-shirt and not wear anything underneath. Everywhere there were soft seats of armchairs, chairs and a sofa made of the same material, which they ordered from the same workshop. They could easily be pulled off by one without any extra effort and, after washing, pulled back, so the problem of cleanliness of the surfaces did not arise, moreover, she really liked the surfaces of these seats, because their velvety softness gently touched her crotch.

She especially enjoyed the thrill of dropping something and bending over to grab it, rubbing her labia against the lint. Sometimes she would unconsciously drop things to do this, experiencing the small, pleasant sensations, especially when they had tense conversations or arguments, including an argument about who should cook dinner.

The cake, which looked like a big pastry, was big enough for two people to eat. The T-shirt she had put on after taking off all her street clothes from the bath, she had stained with cream, and now there was a stain at the level of her belly button.

– How careless I am. I have to wash it again, just put it on. Oh well, – and, having sipped some fruit tea, she went back to the bathroom, pulling it up.

Diana's body was perfect, perhaps even more than perfect, because, in addition to her graceful figure and the absence of any excess fat, she had an abundance of buttocks and perky breasts that seemed to have been grown separately to order, although this was her natural beauty, a beauty from nature, a beauty from birth. She had a gym membership, but it seemed that sometimes she went there not to work out, but to draw the boys' eyes to her ass, which in sports shorts, more like, perhaps, sports briefs, looked especially outstanding.



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