😉 Greetings to my dear readers and visitors of the site! “Lover of Women: The Story of a Traveling Companion” is a real story told to me by a stranger, a neighbor in a train compartment. On the way, people often have revelations about life, about fate.
Travel companion story
– In my youth I was, as they say, a reveler, a lover of women. I never missed a suitable opportunity, and the cases somehow turned up by themselves. The work was related to business trips. I remembered cities like this: Novosibirsk – Katya with legs, Samara – Natasha with a figurine. Voronezh – like her, with big breasts …
I always thought that the ladies had nothing to take offense at me for. We communicated by mutual sympathy, I tried to satisfy each one as best I could. I avoided youngsters, virgins, and generally single ones, so as not to make unnecessary “hemorrhoids”.
Well, he did not hide the fact that our love will most likely be short-lived. I wanted everything to be straightforward and honest, why should a woman fool her head in vain.
Recently, life has thrown me into the working village of Maina. I remember being here fifteen years ago. Such an interesting town, albeit a wilderness. But surprisingly, I found the eatery quite decent. I was sitting, eating soup, and suddenly the waitress sits down next to me:
– Are you Ivan?
– Well, yes, Ivan.
– And I’m Masha, Olyn’s friend.
I, frankly, not like Masha, I did not immediately remember Olga either. But, of course, I guessed who I was talking about: in this Maine I had, as expected, a business trip love. Short, like injury leave, but enjoyable.
I vaguely remember that Olga had long, light blond hair. And like a mole on the left breast, near the nipple. Or is it from Sonya from Pyatigorsk?
We met at a local factory where I was sent on business. She came to my hostel. We parted kindly, without reproaches and unnecessary words. She still came to see me off at the station …
– Why didn’t you come? – Masha asks. – She waited. And he didn’t call. I even tried to look for you, although she did not tell me, I called your plant, and they told me – I quit!
For a long time I did not understand anything: why look for me, did I promise to marry? Yes, Olga was already married.
Olga
What I learned from Masha turned all my ideas about my former life upside down. It turns out that for Olga our meeting was the first and only love, although she had a husband and a child.
She then told her friend that before me she had no idea what female happiness was. I decided that I feel the same, that I have it too forever. Like, we are with her two halves, created for each other and all that.
I remembered every minute spent with me, carried my photo in my bag. She was waiting for me to come for her or write a letter at least. There were no mobile phones then.
She confessed everything to her husband, announced that she wanted to divorce. At first, of course, there was a scandal, Mikhail almost nailed her under the hot hand. But then relatives began to persuade them to make peace, because the son is growing. Mikhail seemed ready to forgive, but then it turned out that Olya was pregnant.
I began to remember – we used to use condoms! I couldn’t live without a condom … Or could I? It is not known who the child is from, but Olga refused to have an abortion.
“You must understand,” she said to Masha. – Ivan will come, but what will I tell him – that I killed our child? ” A girl was born. The husband said that the child was not his, threw Olya. She was ill for a long time. I was crying all the time, waiting for me to come. I waited three years. Then she left Maina with her children to stay with her mother in Ulyanovsk. Since then it has disappeared.
– So the child is mine or not? – I asked Masha.
– Maybe yours. Although, neither you nor Misha looks like.
Alas, the train has left …
I left Maina dumbfounded. I began to remember my life. He lived awkwardly, dissolutely, stupidly. I divorced my two wives, I rarely see children, they are on their own, I am on my own. There were many women, and when you start to remember, there is no one to remember.
My daughter is growing up somewhere. Somewhere there is a woman who loved me, and maybe still loves me. One – the only one, the one with which I would be happy all my life. And I can’t even remember – did she have a mole on her chest or not?
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