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Sveta, a puppet-looking girl with wavy blond hair to the waist, eyes the color of a stormy sky and an appetizing figure, in her blue business suit looked like a stewardess working on an international flight.
She did not leave me indifferent at first glance, and I did her.
Besides, it turned out that we live in the same city.
We began to meet, and after two and a half years we rented a cheap one-room apartment and agreed.
Both of us, to put it mildly, from poor families, not spoiled, therefore our salaries (above the average level at that time) were enough for us not only to live, but also to postpone a penny or two for the future.
After three years of marriage together, when we went to a wedding, Sveta fell under a reduction and, as an acquaintance, got a high-paying job, where she twirled an affair with the owner of the company, a forty-three year old divorced man, behind my back.

I had a strained relationship with my superiors at my work at that time, and then one day I was unemployed.
After the feverish attempts to find a job in their specialty, which were crowned with success, I began to drink.
Vodka, port wine and beer went down most of the money earned on temporary and occasional earnings.
Returning home from drunkenness, I came off on Sveta for late arrivals from work, dirty dishes in the sink and laundry.
Scandals, sometimes reaching the hands of the assault, happened almost every day.
One evening, after returning from regular gatherings with friends, where a fair amount of beer was destroyed, I found Sveta gathering things.

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In response to my question “What would it mean?” She expressed everything she thought about me, called a taxi and drove off to her new passion.
Two months later they were married, and I drank to its fullest.
After a while, I pulled myself together, found a good job in a nearby town, and began to think about moving there from our hole.
More than two years after parting with Sveta.
I worked from the cashier to the chief accountant, earned good money, bought a new car on credit.
No luck only with a normal girl.
After a series of unsuccessful short-term novels, I got acquainted via the Internet with Elina, a plump miniature Crimean Tatar who was terribly complex because of her figure and who was also unlucky in her personal life.
We turned out to be comrades in misfortune – eight months ago her boyfriend married another woman, who is six years older than him, for money and an apartment.
Despite the apparent dissimilarity, Elina reminded me of Sveta: the same habits, the same demeanor, the same long curly hair, only black, the same lecherous gaze of her almond-shaped brown eyes, the same sexual concern and insatiability.
Our relationship began with sex, but then we both realized that we needed something more from each other.
Six months later we were married, our parents jointly presented us with a two-room apartment for the wedding.
For almost a year, as

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we painted.
Sveta agreed to come to our city.
We agreed to go to the night club in the evening.
Of course, she was going to spend the night with us.
On the appointed day, I met Sveta from the bus and drove to our home, where Elina was waiting for us.
On the way in the car, she told me about her past family life with Gregory, about his bestial antics and intolerable mother-in-law, who lives in the same staircase on the first floor and visits her beloved and only son several times a day.
Daughter, a three-year-old Dasha, she left for the night to her parents.
Elina and Sveta quickly found a common language. Free online teen sex.

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