Through the tulle curtains on the window, into the room, moonlight penetrated. Making a figure lying near a thin girl, more sexy and attractive. Her name was Tamara. I met her a month ago, when in search of carnal pleasures, I wrapped it in the area of red lamps. Then she immediately liked it. Not a beauty, not a fashion model, thin (but not skinny.) Black hair, made the features of her face completely thin.
And although she was twenty -seven years old, she looked twenty. Twenty -two from force. We met, because they get acquainted with the representative of her profession, we first started a business, and then I asked her name. Then many times “filmed” her and, she fully responded to my requests. Always clean, tidy, not at all stupid and, without bad habits. On the heel, where the night butterflies “hung out”, they already began to recognize me. Other girls, myself, did not offer me anymore, knowing who I had come for.
The matter was done and, I just lay in the dark room, recovering after stormy sex. She sat on her side of the bed absolutely naked. In the moonlight, her body seemed very appetizing to me. Despite the fact that she was thin, her chest was large. She sat in a quarter of turning to me and, her elastic, tall mounds discarded dark shadows, from which they seemed even more. I tried to drive away the thought that originated in my head, but unexpectedly heard the sound of my voice:
– Make me company. – I said.
– What? She asked, obviously, without hearing, looking at me over her shoulder.
– I offer you coffee. I added.
– Time is money. She said, as it seemed to me with sadness.
– I will pay. – not understanding why, I need to notice this.
– Yes? Then I will not refuse. – with a flirty mine she answered.
She got up in search of her clothes, I looked at her with interest. Tall, slender, hips, perhaps a little thin, but I will repeat, not skinny. We dressed and went out into the kitchen. I always brought her right to my home. Another oddity, – she inspired me with trust. I put her at the table, poured her coffee, and sat opposite. We drank for a while, silently then, sipping from my cup, she asked an unexpected question:
– Are you married?
– No.
– Why? – I shrugged, then said:
– I don’t know until I found a girl. You are all, more abruptly, look for richer. And I, not rich. And, there is no particular coolness in me. So … – I fell silent meaningfully.
She suddenly grinned and, looking away, said:
– A couple of years ago, I would start arguing with you, I would say that you are wrong, that all are different, that we deserve the best. Although, how to look. What is good for one, then for the other bad.
– I admit too, I considered myself a worthy better life. I dreamed of a prince, fairy -tale countries, represented itself in a harem of the Arab sheikh, in gold silk embroidered with gold. Well, everything is generally like in fairy tales thousands and one night. Then, just my boyfriend was taken into the army, and my friend, offered to go to the party with her that foreigners were arranged from the Friendship Institute of Friendship of Peoples. I first denied, and then, she seduced me, saying that she herself, she met some Egyptian.
From a rich family, it seems, he promises to marry and, to take with him, and also his friends, Pakistanis, also want to meet girls. Why sit at home? Yours, anyway in the army. Nothing will come out, so at least you will earn extra money, but you will be lucky, you will go abroad. If I knew how this eastern fairy tale smells. We met, met ..
-I came out, married him, quickly, even without a wedding.
Well, at first, everything was quite decent. Here and his studies ended, we went to his historical homeland. Here the first surprise was waiting for me. It turned out that he was not at all the son of the Arab sheikh, as it seemed to me, but lives more than, modestly. In his house, except for him and his parents, his brother and his wife and five children live. My husband, forced me to put on the veil, took the phone, said that according to Sharia, was not supposed to communicate with anyone except my husband. At first I lived as it was fitting a faithful Arab wife.
Quietly and, practically without leaving the house. He, on the contrary, led a rather active life. His parents treated me as a maid. Not taking me seriously. They were against the fact that their son violated the foundations and married a foreigner. My son was not bad, but I was ignored. I learned that there is an Orthodox church and, once asked to go to the temple to pray, to which he said that the wife of a Muslim should not walk in churches and, strictly on, strictly forbidden me. But I disobeyed him and, one fine day, when he was not at home, I secretly went to church, put the candles, prayed. And when I returned my husband, I was already at home. He asked me in fury: “Did I go out into the street?”
I admitted that I went, pray. He shouted at me and said that he wanted me to accept his faith, but now there is no talk about it. I tried to object to him, but he was very angry with this and, beat me. I realized that the fairy tale is not so beautiful. After some time, his parents married him to a local girl. His cousin. His second wedding was not an example of the first. The first thing we did not have. So, signed by fast. We sat in a cafe. And then a feast drove a mountain, all his relatives gathered.
They forgot about me.
And then, I, with his young wife, as a maid became, and to him, the concubine. I came to me once a week, on Thursdays. Will receive satisfaction, but before mine, and there is no case. He spent all the time with his young wife, but completely forgot about me. I once asked to go home, mother to see her grandson to show her. To what, he laughed and said that it was with us, with our peasants, I could show myself and, to do what I want to do. And here he is my master, as he will say, it will be so. I tried to object again. He beat me again and said that he was tired of such a obstinate wife. Here, his wife is the second, to whip him about me all sorts of fables. In general, he kicked me out, on the street is so easily. But I don’t know anything, I have never protruded from the house. Where to go?
Without coming up with anything, I went to church. The father there, like a Greek, was a little Russian speech. I could explain to him what happened to me. He said that I was not the first such that the child will not be given to me. Here the law is on his side. But he will help me. The father is that, it turned out to be a Russian ambassador. With his help, I managed to leave this “fabulous” country. I returned to my homeland. During the time while I was not, it turns out, my parents, died in a car accident. Apartment, aunt with her family occupied. No. She let me in. Of course, but judge for yourself, what my life has begun. I, I wanted to return to my ex -former to return, but it turned out to have already married. I got a good job, got children and was quite happy. Here, in general, and, my whole story. So, I was left alone, my son was left in Pakistan. They don’t even call me. I, having shook a year, finding no work. And what work is I, without education. I did not learn. She left to live with her “prince”.
In this way, I ended up on the panel.
But, believe me, I do not do it because I like it. There is no more exit. She lowered her eyes and sat, silently, looking at her cup.
– Yes. – I said. – Here you have a fabulous harem.
A tears sparkled in her corner, she carefully, so as not to smear the mascara, brushed her with her finger and, throwing her head up, said:
– Well, that’s it. The paid time has passed. Take it away, or to me.
– Go. -I said, from something, sad.
Already leaving her on his heel, on the way home, I felt sincerely sorry for her. I thought: how many girls spoils his life, because of a stupid dream, about a beautiful life. They think that they are waiting for them abroad. Dreaming of a fairy tale. Of course, everyone wants to feel like a princess. But not everyone turns out to become it. More often, a servant.
I stopped, sat in the car, putting my head on the steering wheel. There were no thoughts at all. Slowly, like in a dream, I turned on the first gear, turned around and went back.
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