Love, sex and other circumstances

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Love, sex and other circumstances

— Passion, lust and… —

Finding a boyfriend is a whole problem. It would seem that the world is rotten, the twenty-first century has already come, women have become more open and liberated, sexually open. Everything around is stuffed with erotic overtones, plus flashy advertising that dumps all the charms of a beautiful body. Now, at a time when a woman may not refuse sex on the first date, logically, it should be easier to find a guy. But no, unfortunately, everything is not so simple, because the men are vulnerable people, they squeezed it a little and that’s it: I got nervous, got scared, and as a result, impotent.

It just so happened that I met my «boy» not somewhere in a club or a bar, and not even on the street, but in… an art gallery, quite famous and very, very visited, though by a respectable middle-aged audience. We stood at a large canvas depicting a portrait of a young princess. I examined the small details that the artist wrote out with all possible painstakingness, demonstrating diligence and diligence. The old canvas is well-preserved, it is clear that the gallery staff are professionals in their field and do their job one hundred percent, protecting the exhibits and restoring the paintings in time.

A young man stood next to me. Well, no, it was a man, but due to the fact that he was clearly ten years younger than me, there was an irresistible desire to call him a boy or a boy, although this was far from reality.

He tilted his head to his left shoulder, and then thoughtfully issued:

— Apocryphal.

I involuntarily laughed. When I was young, there was a series about community life and studying at a higher educational institution. So, in fact, there was a series where a stupid athlete tried to impress a girl at a modern art exhibition with this very phrase.

— What do you think, did the artist have feelings for the model, or was he exclusively in love with the work?

I remember turning around and looking the guy straight in the eyes. It was then that my life changed. Who would have thought that after ten minutes of talking, we would be having sex like crazy in the toilet of an art gallery. I don’t remember the last time I gave in to emotions and enjoyed sex. Like a real gentleman, Victor (and this turned out immediately after the orgasm) walked me home, and we exchanged phone numbers. I had no illusions and did not hope that he would call. After all, I’m forty-two, and he’s only just turned twenty-seven — by all accounts, I’m old for him, even though I look good. Yes, I am very turned on my appearance and I can afford fitness and the best coach, spa treatments and expensive cosmetics. It was lucky that my ex-husband died under very tragic circumstances, but he did not forget to name me in his will, leaving a bunch of shares in large companies and passive income. Well, the apartment, bought in marriage.

On Thursday evening, Victor called, offering to meet. After a little thought, I invited him to my place, saying bluntly that I liked sex with him and I do not mind repeating it. He appreciated my directness, and we agreed to meet on Friday evening.


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