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What my wife could not understand and forgive me was the regular bouquet of white roses, which I always gave Dorothy personally before the concert or after it.
Technically, it was not difficult, since it never denies autographs to fans and not like other stars is always open for communication.
Subsequently, Doro herself remembered me, two or three times a year, white roses appearing with an unchanging armful, and always with a smile asked me if the roses had not yet transferred to Russia?
So I had a dream – airbrushing on a car with its image, which now needed to be restored – I put a new wing in the service.
Leaving an unfinished picture didn’t allow my vanity — a car that was already visible, thanks to this design, almost the entire City knew.
As soon as I closed this problem, the spouse announced that she was going to Greece with her friends on a two-week voucher.
Usually I am not against such voyages, but they, as a rule, are planned and negotiated in advance.
This time I was just confronted with the fact.
Unable to endure an hour of absolutely unconstructive swearing, I waved my hand – yes, wherever you want it! And Saturday was completely given to the preparation of the departure of his wife.
In spite of our strained relations, to put it mildly, I could not refuse her help.
Although, looking at how meticulously she selects outfits and swimsuits, fussing with cosmetics, I realized with an inner sense that she was not going with friends.
Well, okay.
I am only with a heavy feeling of bitterness and annoyance, I thought it was for the best.
I also want freedom.
In the end, almost a week ago, I had a good feeling on the table with my left woman.
Well, that is, for me already completely not left, but the most expensive and desired.
So what can I demand from my wife.
I decided only – that will return, and talk about divorce.

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During the rest just mature, and the conversation will not be so long and hard.
And I already matured.
And even if it were not for Christina, you still need to get out of this dead end of relations.
It’s a shame and bitter only that we never found the courage to honestly talk to each other when something else could be done.
In place of this, they began to look for something on the side.
– Yeah.
– Go too.
– Well.
– Well.
– I.
– Well.
rude.
– Yyy.
– Well.
– Well.
I grunted and took off my pants.
– I.
.
The death of Delvig was a terrible sign that the last part of the German prediction had begun to come true.
Then I did not understand this yet, but now everything appears significant and complete.
The ring dropped during the wedding and the extinguished candle irrevocably convinced me that nothing good would come of the marriage.
Ultimately, we ourselves predict fate.
In order not to lose heart at all, I consoled myself with the

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anticipation of the wedding night, the first joys of owning N.
and prayed to God to extend them as long as possible in my family life.
Thirst full of happiness attracted me to marry.
It was marriage that seemed to me to be an all-healing cure for my displeasure and longing.
It was an attempt to escape from oneself, but one that could change, having no character, to become different.
N.
was my fatal luck, which I bargained with her mother, donating dowry and making debts.
After the engagement, waiting for the wedding day, I thought of how I would change and how my life would change when I pledged allegiance, for I sincerely intended to abide by it.
I used to have five women a day.
I’m used to the variety of cunt, female habits in fucking and everything that distinguishes one woman from another.
This variety did not let my passions fall asleep, and the constant pursuit of him was the essence of my being.
When I first saw N.
I realized that the inevitable happened.
The desire to immediately possess her was so strong that it instantly turned into a desire to marry.
It has happened to me before, but never with such force, I have never felt such delight from my chosen one.
When my proposal was finally accepted, I, as a groom, managed to stay with N.
alone.
I hugged her, and running my hand over my breasts, scratching with my fingernail on the dress there: where the nipples were supposed to be, and soon my nail began to stumble over them.
N.
He blushed, but did not push away my hands, but merely whispered: “Don’t, mom can see.”
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