She Is - 22

Intro

Y-you've been gone a long time. I've been freezing here all by myself. Knock the icicle off my nose, please; my hands won't obey me. It must be warm where You come from. But City of B is cold. And frightening. The Tragedian keeps scurrying around me, whispering that You won't come, that I'll be left here alone. And even if You do come, the end of the Story is near anyway, and then I'll be alone again. The Tragedian mocks me because I rejected him; if I had submitted to him, I would never have been lonely. But I believe You won't abandon me! Better to stand my ground and wait for You as long as it takes than yield to the Tragedian and let him ruin all my Stories!...

While You were gone, I went back into the past and watched the miracle there --Annette. The miracle frightened me a little with its perfection, its causelessness, its purposelessness. It lacked the Story. It lacked You. Yes, perhaps the Story has clouded the miracle a little, but it has not gone away! Ah, Annette, you are beautiful! How I've missed you, my love!

Ahem. Forgive that outpouring of emotion. Better, now that You are finally here, let's tighten the Story's belt another notch and begin a new chapter! Back we go to the incomparable Annette!

Chapter 1

Have you ever counted how many Yous there are inside You? The number is different for everyone, but it is never 1. So, it is with divine Annette. A moment ago, she had been the Annette who let an insolent immigrant guest slap her ass and seemed utterly conquered. Whether by Suhrob himself or by the black passion inside her, the sickness with which angelic Annette had fallen gravely ill, no longer mattered.

And suddenly... another Annette! With a sharp smack she knocks the immigrant's hand away from the back of her head and straightens up. Furious. Proud!

"I'm not sucking you off!!! Learn how to treat a woman first!"

Wow, right? Yuri, at least, appreciated it. Exulted. What was this -- the return of Ann? His Ann, his own, his beloved? Suhrob frowned. Let him frown.

"What are you trying to prove?" he said irritably. "The guys told me..."

"The 'guys' didn't behave the way you do!" the yoga instructor said firmly. Her breasts bounced as she spoke in quick, angry bursts. "What, surprised I'm not denying anything? I'm sure they exaggerated plenty and dressed it up, but I'm not going to convince you that nothing happened between me and them! I'll tell you one thing: they behaved like men, not like boorish trash!"

The incomparable woman's face was purple, her breathing ragged, yet she still found the strength to control herself. Yes, this was another Annette, and this was her choice: to become another. How many times in the course of your life have You chosen which you you would be? Which one did you choose?..

I admit it -- I could not stop admiring her. Neither could her husband. The immigrants were not admiring her. This Annette was alien to them.

"They pissed on you!" Suhrob burst out. He was not used to local whores refusing him and putting on airs.

"They did plenty of things," Annette replied, her voice trembling. "But let's not talk about hypothetical people. Omar brought you here, didn't he? Let's talk about him. How does Omar behave? Like an obedient little dog... and so he gets what he wants from his mistress..."

That was when I began to notice something was wrong. This did not look like a rebirth. Not like a complete return of the innocent, pure Annette. You probably felt it too, from her words. I could tell by her eyes. As Annette spoke, she never took them off Suhrob's impressive cock, which refused to believe it had been rejected and stood, ready for a woman's body. The veins were swollen, a drop of precum glistened at the tip... My love studied the cock as though she were speaking to the penis rather than to Suhrob. Her gaze quivered, her lips trembled, her tongue moved awkwardly in her dry mouth.

"I'm not your obedient little dog!" Suhrob said indignantly.

"Too bad," Annette replied in a strange, almost incomprehensible voice. "Look how much access my little dog gets to his mistress..."

With those words Annette spread her trained legs wider and, gripping him by the hair, pulled the fat goat between them. Omar groaned, thinking, "What am I getting punished for?!" Then again, he had been asking the universe that question his whole life. Scape... goat.

So, the ridiculous fat man found himself between Annette's legs. Reaching back, she held him by the hair, lifted his face to her vagina and onto Omar... something dripped. Female juice. Secretion. The drop landed just below his goatish eye; the old man blinked and squinted as though it had gone into the eye itself. But what it had hit was his pride.

Everything inside Yuri seemed to be breaking loose then, plunging from some tenth floor. He did not understand his wife. One moment she had given him hope that she had come to her senses and was about to throw these brazen immigrants out in a fury; the next, she was putting one of them between her own legs!

"What are you doing to me, my love?! Why? What for?..." Yuri thought, though his wife was not doing anything to him. She was far too busy with the immigrants.

Annette went on staring at Suhrob's cock as though hypnotized, handling Omar by touch alone. It was impossible not to notice. Of course, Suhrob saw how the "local whore" was looking at his cock, and his penis began to twitch, aching under the "bitch's" stare.

"So, he gets to stand on all fours between your legs?" Suhrob sneered. "What a privilege! Why don't you saddle him like a horse too?"

"I'll saddle..." Annette said to the immigrant's cock, "his face!"

"Mmm!" poor Omar moaned as she mashed his face into her hot, wet vagina. He squeezed his eyes shut in humiliation. Life in this earthly vale was hard for him... so he thought while pressing himself to the labia of the most beautiful woman on the planet!

"Ah... oh!" Annette moaned shortly, restrainedly, mastering the tremor in her body. She was still staring at Suhrob's cock. And Yuri, her husband, understood why Omar was between her legs. His wife wanted Suhrob's cock, but her pride would not let her accept his coarseness. Aroused, she was using Omar to damp her physical passion down to a level she could control.

Yeees... this was not Annette's rebirth. Not a cure for the disease. This was an attempt to treat the disease while remaining infected by 6 Maple Court. Frankly, Annette's attempts to fight lust resembled putting out a fire with kerosene. Suhrob was being refused, certainly, but did that change much? Still, do not condemn Annette. How free is she to flip everything from minus to plus in a single stroke? Fate leads the willing and drags the unwilling. Freedom is a complicated business...

"You sure he's better than me?" Suhrob asked, stroking his erect cock. Annette's stubborn gaze seemed to hold his penis up.

"And are you sure... ah... that yoooour... rudeness... ah... is better than me?" she asked in return. Annette began moving her hips, fucking Omar's mouth. Yuri saw two dominants, two powerful characters. A woman and a man. They met in a battle of stares. Who would beat whom? And what place in this battle had been assigned to Yuri?

"None," he realized at once.

"So, I need to be more polite to you before you'll let me have you?" Suhrob asked, already masturbating in earnest. Wet licking sounds came from beneath Annette. While performing cunnilingus, Omar remembered how, back in another city, he had once played the little dog under the direction of nasty Arthur.

"Why, Allah, do I deserve these humiliations?" Omar thought. In every city, every country, every Story... Omar did not understand, though he himself could have remembered thousands of things for which Allah might punish him. He did not remember them. Omar had a selective memory. It made life easier.

"I... don't... know... what you're talking about! Ah!" Annette managed with difficulty. "I'm not... giving myself to you... either way... you're rude... and you don't know... how to treat... a womaaaan!"

All three men seemed puzzled. What did this beautiful woman, fashioned out of contradictions, mean? That she would never let Suhrob have her? Or that she would, if he behaved like Omar? Or... something else?..

"None of the women I've 'treated' ever complained," Suhrob said, flushing. He greedily inspected Annette's gleaming body while he masturbated. Yuri was stunned by his wife, by the situation... all of this was insane! But why was the insanity so magnetic? Why did he want to watch? Alcohol helped plug the pain and jealousy, smooth them down. Everything looked unreal, like a porn film... and Yuri wanted to regard what was happening the way he would regard porn. He clenched his cock in his fist and began doing the same thing Suhrob was doing.

Yuri, a bank manager, had not ended up in this role for no reason. An effect has a cause. There are always connections, but who is given the ability to feel them? You do not understand. A man speaks a word, and in the house across the street a creature is born that will one day cause his death. Can You see connections like that? The Tragedian can. That is why he never pities anyone.

"And I'm not like... everyone else," Annette replied, proudly tossing back her head and fucking Omar's mouth more vigorously. "I'm special. Haven't you noticed yet?"

What was happening looked more and more like a duel. A blind one, because Suhrob had no idea what was going on inside this unusual beauty's head. What counted as victory? How was he supposed to behave with Annette? What did she want from him? Because she did want something...

"You think you're special? I've had all kinds of women. Models..."

Annette's lips twitched. Another hint that she did not have a model's looks?!

"Y-yeah? Then maybe... ah... you should go to them?!" she asked. "Nobody's... mmm... keeping you here."

Suhrob remained standing there, masturbating.

"Not leaving? Ah! So that means I am... special?... Mmm!"

Omar was having a very hard time: on all fours, his head tilted too far back, his neck aching, but he kept doing his job. It was becoming clear to Yuri that one of the unspoken contests between Suhrob and Ann was who came first. Suhrob was not used to women like Annette and did not know how to handle her. But he understood one thing perfectly: under no circumstances was he going to miss the chance to stare at her astonishing body. Privately he thought she was not a woman but something out of fantasy. He would never have said that aloud.

"Omar... come here," Suhrob suddenly said. Annette frowned. Then, when Omar stopped licking her crotch, she understood. Suhrob had decided to demonstrate his power by taking her servant away from her!

As Omar was already getting up, she sharply pushed him back down. A dog should know its place.

"Omar, you obey me," Annette said firmly.

"And I think Omar has known me a lot longer and won't want to make me angry," Suhrob said threateningly. The old man shrank beneath Annette.

"Little girl, don't make me choose. Suhrob is an important man..." he bleated.

"And what am I, small fry?!" Annette asked menacingly. "You want to go to Suhrob? Go. I'm not stopping you. But take all your things with you. Either you live with me and listen to me, or you go live with Suhrob. He'll be delighted to take you in, won't he?"

Of course, he would not. Suhrob would not have let this filthy vagrant anywhere near his apartment. Omar whined pitifully beneath Annette, but she did not soften. Nobody was going to pity the old goat. He had to choose.

"To hell with it. There's no life for me in City of B anyway!" he thought. "I'll have to leave one way or another! At least I'll fuck a beautiful woman before I go!"

He thought it, raised his head, and licked Annette again.

"Aaah!" the yogini moaned, hotly, passionately, joyfully. Whether from the goat's tongue or from triumph over Suhrob was impossible to say. And what timing: at that exact moment her opponent came, unable to withstand the sight of Annette's naked body in the jumpsuit he had torn and dragged down. It was a double defeat. Omar had stayed with Annette, and Suhrob had also been the first to lose control. Yuri's wife had every right to be proud of herself and celebrate.

"You're pathetic, Omar!" was all Suhrob said, shaking sticky fluid from his cock. Then he went into the entryway, tucked the cock that had spat out semen back into his pants, and began dressing quickly. Annette frowned, as though the victory gave her no warmth at all.

"Did you even want to win?" Yuri asked her silently. Oh, even he, after many years with his wife, did not understand her.

Without dressing, Annette ran naked into the entryway. Suhrob already had his shoes on and was preparing to leave. He looked in surprise at the woman who had hurried after him.

"About the yoga center... here, call me. This is my personal number," she said, holding out a business card. "Or call Omar if I can't answer..."

Suhrob smirked and shook his head. It was obvious that after today he had no intention of building Annette a yoga center.

"Ask timidly, and you invite a no," she said suddenly, in the strange voice she had used before her rebellion. Suhrob flinched and peered into her eyes.

"So that's what this is about? I didn't show enough power and confidence? Is that what you're telling me? Is that why you refused?" he thought... and took the card.

Chapter 2

After Suhrob left, both Omar and Yuri felt humiliated by Annette's behavior. But Yuri had acquired a timid hope that his wife had set herself on a course toward changing her life. He swallowed his hurt simply because there was now a light at the end of the tunnel. His wife had refused Suhrob, had stopped one instant short of a complete fall, and that gave Yuri rubber hopes for the future -- hopes he could stretch forever.

In any case, as You and I have learned over more than twenty chapters, not one actor in our tragic pantomime will stop taking part in the Story even if the moon falls to earth. To You and me it is a Story; to them it is life, and every decision costs them dearly. From out here it is easy for You and me to say Yuri should have left Annette long ago, but from inside things are much more complicated. If You were a participant in the Story instead of the Reader, perhaps You would say that Annette ought to leave her husband, not the other way around.

Many people reach for love as though it were an ending, the thing that will change and resolve everything. Well, Annette and Yuri have love. Has it helped them? That is because love is no ending at all, but a blind guide leading others just as blind.

Here is a fragment from Yuri's life that symbolizes his existence rather well. He is sitting on the marital bed in a white T-shirt. Inside him is a heavy, durable rage. He breathes it. He swallows it instead of saliva. He remembers how his wife, who acts so superior toward him, let another man whip her ass with a belt, how she undressed in front of a stranger. How that same wife almost sucked Suhrob's cock! Yuri is no longer prepared to compromise with his wife's antics. He boils with retribution; sweat pours off him like froth boiling over from a pot.

And now strong, manly Yuri rises from the bed!

And tears his T-shirt apart in fury!

And... it does absolutely nobody any good. Yuri sits back down on the bed in his torn T-shirt.

Chapter 3

Omar continued living in the home of his benefactors. He seemed perfectly healthy and swaggered around the apartment, enthusiastically swinging his fat ass whenever Yuri was away. In Yuri's presence he would start groaning and wheezing and complaining about his health. The old immigrant might have been utterly deaf to hidden harmonies, but he knew how to scheme -- like an old, experienced animal.

Yuri tried to behave as though he had seen nothing and knew nothing. But he watched his wife closely. She really did seem to have embarked on a path of reform. More precisely... it looked as though she was trying to set foot on that path. Fighting herself, fighting the 6 Maple Court inside her. Yuri was hardly the one to judge; he had lost his own battle with that house long ago and no longer even struggled. But Annette... she could still win.

The beauty returned to yoga in earnest, taught online classes, meditated. But from time to time the tension inside her seemed to become... unbearable. Then Annette would begin behaving strangely. No, she did not cheat on her husband. But one day, for example, she suddenly came out of the bedroom wearing nothing but lavender lace underwear and lay down on the sofa where she could be seen from the kitchen.

Regally. Like a royal cat in an Egyptian temple. The old immigrant, who was chewing something as usual -- Omar was always eating, perhaps storing food for later -- choked at the unexpected performance.

"What's wrong, not tasty?" Annette asked, fluttering her eyelashes innocently.

"N-no, very tasty, little girl. It's just that my sick body keeps betraying me. Old age is when you're a refugee in your own body."

"But sometimes one has to visit other people's bodies too, doesn't one?" the beauty asked in a strange tone. The old man glanced sideways at her. The "local bitch" had been pushing him away for days, and now she was openly hinting at sex! Was this some new kind of torment invented by the arrogant city woman?

The flustered old man did not have time to answer. Yuri walked in. He took in the scene at once, looked surprised, grew angry, moved his eyes from Omar to his wife and back again, flared his nostrils, and said sternly to Annette:

"Ann, why are you walking around half-naked in front of a guest?!"

Annette inspected herself and pretended to be surprised.

"Oh! I've gotten so used to Omar that I forgot he isn't part of our family and that I shouldn't walk around in my underwear in front of him!" she said, hiding her breasts behind her raised knees.

But that only meant she showed the old man her magnificent ass instead! Yuri turned red, while the vile old man smiled, baring his gums.

"It's all right, little girl. Dress however you're comfortable..."

"NO!!!" Yuri said with sudden force, and the old man shrank like a rabbit before a boa constrictor. "Ann, go put some clothes on!!!"

The beauty frowned. She hesitated for a moment, as if giving Omar time to absorb her beauty, and only then stood up.

"And stop shouting," she said as she walked away, swaying her ass. "I'm going to take a bath."

Yuri watched her go. What did Annette do in the bathroom for two hours?

That I do not know. But Yuri noticed that when she came out, she was normal again, calm. The bank manager took account of the fact that Annette had not cheated on him; she had merely shown off a little for Omar. Everyone fights their demons however they can, don't they? The important thing was that she was fighting. For that alone, much could be forgiven.

"We can defeat you," Yuri thought that night, staring at the black ceiling. In his sleepy delirium he did not even understand whom he was addressing. Who was Yuri fighting? What? He had the feeling that while he was gathering clues about his enemy, the enemy was gathering clues about Yuri himself.

Chapter 4

For several more days Annette behaved with exemplary propriety. Yoga, lessons with students. Yuri asked his wife what she had arranged with Suhrob; she shrugged vaguely and said he was supposed to call. Each time, a tension appeared in her eyes that her husband did not like.

Annette's next "slip" came on Saturday. Yuri had spent half the day in the bedroom with a book and had no idea what his wife had been wearing around the house all that time. He saw it when he went to the kitchen for a drink just as Annette was coming out of Omar's room.

As though nothing were wrong, she smiled at her husband. She wore an eight-inch skirt cut on a slant over her left hip. Gossamer chiffon barely tinted the outline of high-waisted pink panties. Her upper body was decorated with pink mesh studded with rhinestones. It looked as though strong male hands had already torn it to shreds. And beneath it she wore only a pink bra with the thinnest straps...

"Ann..." Yuri choked with outrage. "What are you wearing around the house now?!"

"What do you mean? I'm not in my underwear..."

"Are you serious?! You... you'd be better off in your underwear!!! I don't recognize you, wife! There's another man in the house!!!"

At that moment Omar appeared behind Annette.

"What's all the shouting if there's no fight?" the old man asked good-naturedly.

"Yuri and I are having a philosophical debate about women's appearance," Annette replied, coquettishly extending one leg as though specifically to irritate her husband.

"Philosophy is an invention of the rich," Omar said, shaking his head in disapproval. "Ordinary people don't have time to philosophize..."

"Are both of you making fun of me now..." Yuri hissed furiously. It was beginning to feel as though they were openly laughing at him.

"Why are you so angry?" Omar asked in surprise.

"As if you don't know!"

"You've been very nervous lately..."

"A crow sits up in a tree, going grumble-grumble at me," Annette teased her husband. That finally made him lose control.

"And you're laughing too?! You walk around like a whore! You act like a slut, not a decent woman, and then you laugh when I tell you so?!"

A silence fell so deep that you could hear the day itself trembling in the breeze. Yuri watched his wife change like a chameleon, first white, then red. She remained standing in the doorway, but now she was terrifyingly angry. Even her hair looked furious.

"Oh, is that so! So I act like a whore?! Well, well. Thank you, husband. I'll make sure I live up to it!"

With those words the proud woman pulled up the mesh and turned toward Omar.

"Go ahead and stare, since I'm a whore!" she said loudly to the old man. He obeyed, blinking his goatish eyes. Watching his wife deliberately display her breasts to another man, Yuri felt a powerful itch inside himself. The itch of an addict offered a dose. Lately he had been watching his wife like a madman, rejoicing that she was not cheating on him, checking the camera recordings. And yet... inside Yuri there remained a stranger who wanted to feel again what it was like when your faithful, beautiful, proud wife made a cuckold of you. That stranger was Yuri's enemy and was destroying him, but the man so loved taking pleasure in the destruction...

Without a word, Yuri seized his wife by the arm and led her into the bedroom.

"Let go of me!" she shouted, but this time a woman's words were not enough to stop her husband.

"Go to your room and don't come out, you freak," Yuri said to Omar.

"What did I do..."

"I said go to your room!!!"

Groaning and moaning, suddenly remembering that everything hurt after his beating, the old man trudged back to his room. Yuri took his wife into the bedroom.

"How are you behaving?!" she exclaimed indignantly -- and then her husband fastened his mouth to hers in a kiss. It was so unexpected, especially after Annette had shown Omar her breasts, that the yogini instantly lost all her fury. Something inside her resonated with the stranger in her husband as he kissed her passionately. Something that had seeped into her skin over the years she had lived at 6 Maple Court.

Her husband began tearing the clothes off her, and she began tearing his off him. Yuri suddenly felt with perfect certainty that this was the only way he could help his wife along her path of reform right now, that everything he was doing was correct. He was appeasing the rampaging demons by the least harmful means possible!

"Uh... ah..." Annette moaned. Suddenly she shoved her naked husband onto the bed. Then, imperiously and confidently, she straddled his face.

"Oh, my love! Yes! Ahh!" she moaned while Yuri licked her vagina. Soon it seemed the space around them would tear open under Ann's wild cries. Omar pressed an ear to the wall and listened carefully. The spouses knew he could hear them, and that aroused them both. Yuri's cock was rigid. When Annette came, she deigned to stroke her husband's tense member a few times, and a fountain of semen shot upward. Husband and wife were reconciled.

Chapter 5

Afterward they became stuck in love, caught by it, protected by it. Well then, let them! Excellent! City of B has so many people in love and so few people who truly love... may heaven keep my heroes.

Annette began to shine more brightly again, as she once had. Yuri could feel his star recovering her strength. He knew, he felt, that his salvation lay through Annette. If he saved her, he would save himself as well.

Annette once again began erupting with ideas about helping people and saving humanity. This showed itself not only in the yoga lessons she gave her students, but in her desire to help those close to her. Annette decided to educate Omar. At first, she wanted to get the old immigrant used to books, but quickly realized how useless that was. So she began introducing him to culture through music instead. He listened to all kinds of trashy pop, and Annette decided to cultivate his taste by starting with something theatrical, catchy, and impossible to misunderstand -- Alice Cooper.

Amazingly, the old man loved the music. He especially liked "No More Mr. Nice Guy," whose swaggering defiance seemed to speak directly to something in him. Again and again, Omar played the song, grinning to himself as though Alice Cooper had written it personally for him. To encourage his interest, Annette showed him "Super Duper Alice Cooper", the documentary about the singer. Then she persuaded her husband to take them to a touring rock-memorabilia exhibition featuring Alice Cooper and other icons of theatrical rock. Yuri did not want to lift a finger for Omar, but for love of his wife he agreed. It had always been that way: he did everything for Annette, and she did nothing for him. Nothing except love. Love is the only thing you can give another person without depriving yourself of anything... Before they left, the old man had a drink. He understood that he would have to spend a long time on his feet, and alcohol was supposed to help. Whenever Omar drank, long slender legs grew out of him and he walked beautifully on them.

There was plenty of artwork at the exhibition -- paintings, posters, album covers, photographs, and grotesque stage designs inspired by Alice Cooper's world. Omar stood for a long time before some of them, mouth hanging open.

Most of the pieces that drew the old man's attention were connected, one way or another, with sex and women: half-naked figures, decadent pinups, leather-clad temptresses, and lurid images in which eroticism mixed cheerfully with horror.

Naturally, the old man got an erection. Given the size of his cock, an erection could not go unnoticed. Young women began glancing sideways at the old immigrant with the enormous pole in his pants as he stared at the provocative artwork. Annette noticed too, and while Yuri listened to the audio guide through headphones, she walked over to the old man. At that moment he was lost inside himself, fantasizing about one of the more explicit pieces.

After darting a glance at her husband, Annette touched Omar's enormous erection with one fingertip. He flinched, and his clouded gaze began to clear.

"W-what is it?" the goat said in surprise.

"Nothing. Your veins are just swollen... does being close to me stir your blood that much?"

"Um... no... I mean yes... Little girl, are you making fun of me?"

Annette laughed.

"Only a little. Omar, come on, let's look at the other exhibits. You've been stuck on this one too long. It is interesting, of course... it gets the imagination going... but we're here to learn more about Alice Cooper."

Annette led the old man away from the display of lurid rock art and toward the costumes, stage props, photographs, and other exhibits. She expected Omar's erection to go away, but the old man's infernal imagination was already running wild, and he walked around the exhibition with a hard-on that simply would not leave him.

It made Annette feel strange. Her heart beat faster, her breathing grew uneven. A purely feminine desire arose in her to help a man with his "difficulty." Annette reminded herself that she was married and should not concern herself with another man's erection problems. But the longer Omar's hard-on remained beside her, the hotter she became. Annette was already fanning her face with one hand.

"Whew. Is their air-conditioning broken or something?"

Yuri looked away from the exhibits and stared at his wife in surprise. It was definitely not hot in the room. Then Yuri's gaze slid over the enormous bulge in Omar's pants. Annette's husband's heart began to itch. There could be no doubt what was making her hot. It looked as though the old goat had shoved a spear down his trousers!

"Where does he get that kind of stamina?!" Yuri thought enviously. Annette's own husband could only dream of such a constant, powerful erection. In truth, he had not even been able to dream of one for a long time.

Drawing air nervously through his nostrils, Yuri stepped between his wife and the old man. Even then, every now and again Annette somehow managed to glance at Omar's erection, which strongly aroused the stranger inside Yuri... It felt good to fight vice and yield to it just a little at the same time...

The second floor broadened the exhibition beyond Alice Cooper himself, tracing the rise of theatrical rock, punk, and the deliberately provocative imagery that had grown up around them. The very first display made that point rather vividly. In enormous letters across the wall was a single word:

SEX

"Whoa, is this part about sex?" Omar asked in surprise.

"Don't get your hopes up," Annette said with a smirk. "That was the name of a famous shop in London. It became part of the punk scene."

And yet, although the exhibition was devoted to rock, the old goat kept finding things connected with sex and eroticism and freezing in front of those photographs.

Naturally, his erection, which had already begun to subside, grew hard again. Yuri noticed and led his wife farther away from the old man. But it was strange. The moment Yuri became distracted, Annette vanished, only to turn up beside Omar again, this time while he was studying another provocative punk-era photograph -- a half-naked woman in leather posing beneath a deliberately obscene club poster.

The beauty stroked the old man's shoulder and said something to him, but her husband was certain that what drew the yogini toward Omar was not a desire to educate him about rock music. And that understanding... aroused him. Naturally, the Tragedian had not missed the chance to visit the exhibition with them and hopped around Yuri, filling him with his murk. The Tragedian had long ago switched to a special diet made from the Lazars' sins. And as you understand, he was in no danger of starving.

Yuri stared into his wife's bewitching eyes, chained to the old man's cock, and went mad with arousal. He wanted to drag a wife like this around a corner, bend her over, and fuck her properly! Annette wore her difference from everyone else with regal carelessness. Like an ermine mantle, truly. Not merely a mantle, but one she had worn since childhood. Yet beside Omar she turned into an ordinary broad! Yuri's legs trembled with arousal at the thought. A little later, half out of mischief and half to test her reaction, he drew his wife toward one of the more outrageous photographs in the punk section -- a leather-clad woman sprawled provocatively across a backstage sofa.

Annette took one look at it and snorted with laughter.

"Not here," she whispered playfully. At that moment Omar decided he needed the restroom. With his usual lack of initiative, he could not find it on his own. Annette led him away, leaving her husband waiting for them and looking at the exhibits.

Omar spent two minutes in the restroom. He came out red-faced and displeased, a genuine butting goat.

"Everything all right, Omar?" Annette asked with concern.

"No," he replied curtly.

"What's wrong?"

"Can we... can we go home? I think we've seen everything."

Annette put her hands on the old man's shoulders.

"All right, Omar. Tell me what happened!"

The old man sighed, turned away, and did not answer.

"Omar!!!" Annette raised her voice. The beauty knew how to put pressure on him. And the old man was too small and pitiful to protest against her tyranny.

"I can't go to the bathroom... because of this!" Omar confessed, gesturing toward his swollen crotch. Annette opened her mouth... and closed it. She understood.

"Then wait. It'll pass," the yogini said gently, and felt, for some reason, that her nipples had suddenly become far too noticeable to her.

"It isn't passing," the old man replied gloomily. "It's like it's stuck!"

Annette sighed.

"If only my husband had... problems like that," she thought involuntarily, then immediately scolded herself for thinking it.

"Think about something nonsexual..."

"I did! It doesn't help! Ow..."

The old man grabbed his stomach and bent slightly.

"I really need to piss... and I can't!" he admitted. Annette stroked his back pityingly. Once again, a feminine, instinctive urge awakened in her to help a man deal with his erection. Only this time the desire came as a distinct pulse from her vagina.

"Come on," Annette suddenly said, looking around to make sure her husband was nowhere nearby.

"Where?" Omar asked in surprise.

"Where do you think... the restroom!" Annette replied. She herself was surprised by the decision, but she had made it.

Chapter 6

Inside the restroom, with the door locked behind them, Annette stilled her perpetually bouncing breasts, looked closely at Omar, licked her lips, and suddenly said:

"Masturbate."

The old man's eyes nearly popped out of his head. Unaccustomed to expecting anything good from people, he assumed this time too that someone was trying to trick him, to make a fool of him.

"Little girl... I'm an old man. Is it right to laugh at someone old?"

"Am I laughing?" Annette asked seriously. Seeing him hesitate, she added:

"Of course, I'll help you deal with your problem. I brought you here, after all, so I'm responsible for you. Though honestly, I don't understand what affected you so strongly."

As Annette spoke, she undressed. That was why she kept talking without pause -- to talk herself through it, to quiet the trembling of her hands, the shame, the SOS signal coming from her feminine honor and pride.

"I'm simply helping an old man," the yogini told herself as she removed her clothes and hung them over the restroom stall. Once she was down to her underwear, Annette remembered that it was... transparent. Drowning in shame inside, she smiled at Omar outwardly.

"Your turn to do something."

Of course, Omar took advantage of her offer! It seemed not even a second passed before he pulled out his enormous penis and began rhythmically driving his hand along it.

"Mmm!" Yuri's wife moaned involuntarily when she finally saw in the flesh the giant cock she had been staring at through his trousers all day.

"You're so kind, daughter!" the happy old man said as he worked sparks out of his cock. "Helping an old man!"

"I don't know whether I'm kind or wicked," Annette replied nervously. "But I try to be warm toward others and strict with myself. That's my rule."

She tried to pull her eyes away from Omar's cock... and could not.

"What is wrong with me! This is... indecent! Vulgar! Beneath my dignity! Just disgusting!" Annette raged at herself, yet she still did not take her eyes off the abnormally erect penis.

In the mercury-colored shadows of the restroom, the loud slaps of Omar's masturbation rang back from the walls. The old man jerked off strenuously, with all his strength, as though his life depended on self-gratification. Annette felt disgust for him and pity at the same time. The beauty sensed some beam of tension inside herself that made her respond to Omar in a peculiar way.

"Do you think you'll be able to... finish quickly?" she asked, feeling that with every second she spent in front of the masturbating old man, something important inside her was spoiling, warping. The most frightening part was that it might be forever. You never know which step into darkness will prove irreversible, when the point of no return will come. Annette could still change everything, but to do that she had to help the old man as quickly as possible and run back to her husband, to her husband! She was saving Yuri, and he was saving her. If only Omar was not here...

"Probably not," the old man wheezed. "Everything's dried up somehow..."

Annette seriously considered whether she should kill Omar. Why not? Old age was the perfect alibi. Nobody would want to investigate why an ancient old man had died. But Annette even pitied spiders; she never killed them, only carried them to the window on a broom and tossed them outside. And now she pitied Omar too... (and do not tell me that Annette's erect nipples and wet vagina speak of anything except pity!)

"We can't stay in here long, Omar!" Annette exclaimed emotionally. Her breathing was heavy and viscous. "A-all right. I'll help."

With disobedient, trembling fingers, glancing at the door, Annette unfastened her bra. She hesitated, looking into Omar's dark goatish eyes... then lowered her hands as though tired of fighting.

"Ooooh, liiittle girl!" the vagrant bleated excitedly. Annette had been stringing him along for far too long. He had forgotten how wonderful it was to see the naked breasts of Yuri's whore.

"Quiet," Annette said with an involuntary, flattered smile as she lowered her bra.

The old man's face went white, and for a moment the yogini even wondered whether his heart was still pumping life through him. But of course, the blood draining from his face was more than compensated for by the enormous, erect cock swollen with desire that Omar was savaging with his hand. Annette's eyelashes trembled. She felt herself sinking once more into the darkness that found her everywhere in City of B. Perhaps everyone living here was wrapped in the same darkness?..

Slap, slap, slap. The old man masturbated furiously now that he once again had access to Annette's naked body.

"Daughter, show me your ass!"

"Ugh, Omar!.."

"All right, all right... show me your bottom, sweetheart..."

Annette sighed. Biting her lips and grimacing, she turned her back to the old man.

She could not see Omar, but she could hear the animal noises he made, like the old lustful goat he was. Panting, growling, slapping, hooves scuffing over the floor. And Omar kept praising his "little girl." It is impossible to reproduce his tongue-tied speech on the page: repeated words, stumbles, stupidly misplaced subordinate clauses that wandered off and lost their mother sentence, and all those unnecessary, inarticulate sounds that propped words up or gave them an escape hatch... But it affected Annette. She felt like Mother Teresa, a benefactress. Omar's admiration was sincere. Everything inside the beauty responded to that admiration.

"What, you like it that much?" she asked, hooking a finger under her panties.

"Sooo much, daughter, sooo much!" the beaming old man exclaimed. Annette thought that no matter how brightly the moon shone, it would never become the sun. Bluish bags bulged beneath Omar's eyes, he shuffled his crooked legs, moaned and whimpered. Yes, this man would remain a vagrant inside even if someone signed over an expensive city apartment to him...

"You're still not ready, Omar?" Annette asked.

"No, little girl, sorry. I need time..."

"We do NOT have time! God... what if I say something arousing?"

"Like what?"

"Well... that I'm your bitch..."

The old man's body jerked as though in a seizure. Annette thought he would come at once. Omar thought so too. But he restrained himself and congratulated himself for it. The beauty could give him still more pleasure. He had to be patient.

"What's wrong, Daddy? Are you holding yourself back? Why? Your bitch needs your semen! Oh, how I want it!"

Annette entered the role so completely that she felt as though she truly were the old man's bitch and truly wanted his seed. The boundary between role and self disappeared. Then Annette lowered her panties and began running her hands over her breasts, brushing her sensitive nipples.

Omar began to tremble rapidly as though he had walked naked into freezing weather. His gaze looked sick and strained, his breathing hoarse.

"Tumor," Annette thought. "That's what he is. Tumor."

"What are you waiting for, my master? Still holding yourself back? Let go. I'm begging you!"

With those words Annette sank to her knees before the old man and folded her hands as if in prayer. The vagrant could endure no more. The old man's semen began firing under great pressure straight onto Annette's clean hands and aristocratic face. The beauty squeezed her eyes shut and pressed one palm into her crotch, then began shuddering in tiny spasms beneath the hail of Omar's ejaculate. If the old man had not been in ecstasy, he might have noticed that his "bitch" was... coming.

Suddenly the phone rang. Disgustedly wiping semen from her eyebrow with one finger, Annette picked up the phone and answered.

"Honey, where are you?" Yuri's anxious voice asked. Still shuddering, the beauty looked up from below at Omar, whose cock was rapidly softening after orgasm.

"In the restroom... Omar isn't feeling well."

"What?! I'll come over!"

"No! No... we can manage. Get the car ready. As soon as we come out, we'll go straight home."

"All right... you're sure you don't need my help?"

Annette opened her mouth, and then there occurred the sort of coincidence that would be impossible in a novel yet is utterly ordinary in human life. At that exact moment Omar, who really had needed to urinate all this time, relaxed too much. Too much. And just as Annette opened her mouth to answer her beloved husband, a golden stream poured from Omar's cock directly into it!

Of course, it should be noted that Omar deliberately adjusted the direction of the stream. But apart from that, it was pure coincidence that his urine suddenly ended up in the yogini's mouth! Annette was stunned by the unexpected plunge to absolute rock bottom that Omar had arranged by urinating on her in the restroom. This was not the gratitude the beauty had expected. Her amazement and indignation were so great that she did not close her mouth. She simply remained there with her lips parted, letting him use her mouth instead of the toilet standing nearby.

"Ann, can you hear me?" Yuri's voice asked through the phone.

"Gulp, gulp." Annette swallowed instead of answering, glaring at Omar with eyes blazing in fury -- and suddenly her entire body began to shake. The convulsions surprised even the yogini herself.

"Ah!" she moaned, falling to the floor. Omar kept pissing on her as she came, shuddering in paroxysms of pleasure.

"Ann? Ann?!" Yuri shouted, more alarmed now. "I'm coming over right now!"

But the beauty found enough strength, without rising from the restroom floor, to take the phone in her hand and bring it to her face.

"Don't. I just slipped and fell. Now I'm going to have to wash," Annette said, staring up at Omar's cock above her. That cock had changed her life. Was it possible now to return everything to how it had been before the old immigrant's cock?..

The last thing Annette saw before they left the exhibition was a huge illuminated sign above the exit:

WELCOME TO MY NIGHTMARE

Omar liked the way the exhibition ended.

Chapter 7

Yuri guessed that something unusual had happened in the restroom. But what? Not knowing is the greatest torment. Yet no one asks a person which cross would be easiest for him to carry.

"It's still a shame Alice Cooper doesn't make songs like he used to!" Omar said, thoroughly pleased with life. Having come on Annette and pissed on her, the old man had attained Zen. "He had so many good ones! Why can't people like him stay young forever..."

"Nobody needs immortality," Yuri said firmly. "A human being still isn't capable of enduring his own inner hell for that long, or of eliminating it."

Annette, who had been silent, gave her gloomy husband a strange look. She remembered his face in the window when she cheated on him with two immigrant men. Did he know? And keep silent? Endure it? What was it like for Yuri to live with that? And he still did not know what Omar had done to her in the restroom...

A thought suddenly came to Annette. Feeling pity for her husband and sensing an injustice, she decided to balance the scales a little.

... At home Yuri poured himself tea and drank it in small sips, trying to convince himself that nothing had happened between his wife and the old man at the exhibition. But remembering Omar's erection, which so many people had noticed, made that hard to believe.

Yuri stared out the window while Omar rummaged through the refrigerator, wanting to restore his strength after orgasm. The winter sky barely fit through the open pane. "Nothing happened. Annette is changing. Omar just felt sick." But Yuri could only deceive himself for a short while -- about as long as it took to drink a cup of tea.

Annette entered the kitchen.

"Yuri, have you showered?" she asked.

"No."

"Want to take one together?"

Yuri's eyebrows rose, and the bad thoughts vanished at once. The old man was surprised too. Seeing Yuri hesitate, Omar said:

"Don't be shy on my account. Go on, you're young. You only live once, brother. Better to remember and regret than regret having nothing to remember..."

"You're no brother of mine, vermin," Yuri said with unexpected venom as he stood up.

"Hey!" Annette protested.

"I'm not apologizing," Yuri said as he went into the bathroom.

"I'll talk to him," Annette quietly assured the old man before following her husband.

... Later, in the shower, jets of water beat against the naked spouses. Annette arched as though in pain, presenting Yuri with her magnificent breasts.

It had an effect, I must say. So did the situation itself: the fact that the beauty had invited him into the shower right in front of Omar and was behaving with deliberate sexuality. This was unlike Annette, who ordinarily did not display her feminine charms so openly in front of her husband. She was getting him worked up.

Naturally Yuri expected sex and began running his hands over his wife's body, squeezing her ass and breasts. But Annette suddenly stopped him and, looking closely into his eyes, sank to her knees before him.

"Yuri, do you believe I'm yours alone?" Annette asked. The man's gaze wavered. He understood that this was the long-awaited conversation about the time he had seen his wife cheating through the window of their home. But the conversation was nothing like Yuri had expected.

"I... don't know," he said honestly.

"But I am yours alone, husband. Always. In this world and the next. You remember that we were married before God, don't you? We didn't just sign our names on a piece of paper. We are bound in eternity. I agreed to share eternity with you."

Yuri raised a palm in front of his face to shield himself from the water and get a better look at his wife's angelic face. She had not spoken to him like this in a long time. It was obvious that Annette meant every word.

"And I with you," was all Yuri could manage. His wife nodded, still kneeling before him, her face level with her husband's naked cock.

"Then I bound myself to you on the highest, heavenly level. My love... now I want to bind myself to you on the lowest level too. Perhaps even... the animal level. We aren't made only of soul. We're made of body too, so it's normal..."

Annette blushed deeply and lowered her head.

"I don't really understand what you're saying, Ann."

The cosmic beauty drew a deep breath of hot, humid air and forced herself to say it:

"My love, piss on me! Mark me as yours!.."

Yuri recoiled. He had never expected anything like this from his proud, exalted wife.

"Ann... are you serious???"

"Yes," the yogini replied firmly. "I want it. And I know men want it. We've lived together for many years, and you can allow yourself this. You have the right."

Yuri's cock twitched. Of course, he had dreamed of something like this, but not with Annette! How could he ever have imagined that she would allow him to do such a thing to her?! In a certain sense, a perverse one, it was almost as important as their wedding or the first declaration of love!

"But where did this desire come from?" Yuri asked in amazement.

"And where did your desire to ask come from instead of doing it?" Annette asked reasonably. Everything inside her contracted. What she had proposed had already happened with Omar, yet with her husband it seemed hundreds, thousands of times more shameful! If not for the guilt forcing Annette to go through with it...

Still looking at his wife in disbelief, Yuri took his cock in his hand.

"I don't need to go," he joked nervously. But Ann looked at him as though he were an idiot, and Yuri stopped laughing. He aimed the head of his cock at his wife. It felt as though a ritual of black magic were taking place. Yuri remembered how pure and bright they had been when they moved into 6 Maple Court. How they enjoyed traveling, pursued their careers, cherished plans and hopes... and now they had arrived at a point where Annette was asking him to piss on her. Man proposes, God disposes. The universe had decided everything for them. What can a human being do at all? He makes plans and forgets that he is like a microbe: just as small, just as blind, just as absurd...

Yuri's stream of urine struck Annette in the face. It changed everything.

Chapter 8

What happened in the shower changed the lovers' relationship. Yuri once again felt himself to be the one in charge, the one who decided. He had entered territory where Omar had previously ruled and occupied it. Annette too drew a line in the shower between her past and her future. Omar was allowed nothing anymore. Nothing at all, not even occasionally. She returned to practicing yoga intensely. From time to time Yuri asked whether Suhrob had resurfaced so they could begin putting Ann's yoga-center idea into practice. Annette would sadly shake her head.

"It's all right. If he doesn't come around, we'll build the center ourselves," Yuri would say. But Annette knew those were only words. Without Suhrob's help they could not realize a project on that scale.

Omar sometimes hovered around Ann. Tried to touch her. With the eyes of a beaten dog, he begged Annette for depravity. She refused.

"Daughter, please, can you help?" Omar finally asked one day, unable to endure it any longer, and pointed at his swollen crotch. "It hurts badly!"

He was counting on the beauty's pity, as before. But she merely said words he did not understand:

"Imperare sibi maximum imperium est."

Lately Annette had begun speaking in ways Omar could not understand; she had grown completely remote from him. She said it and left the room, abandoning Omar alone with his unfulfilled request. A laughingstock...

Yuri became stricter with Omar. More and more often he said Omar was pretending and that nothing actually hurt. Finally, he simply informed the old man:

"That's it, Omar. We looked after you, nursed you back to health. Now it's time to go back to your life. You have two days to pack."

That is how EVERYTHING ends. And for Omar that was exactly what it felt like. He had nothing except his life with the Lazars. Now that, the last thing, was being taken away. The old goat trudged to Annette to complain. She listened to him... with a smile.

"Omar, I'm so glad you're better! Yuri and I have both noticed it, so we decided to help you start living out in the world again instead of being shut up here with us!"

"So, this is... a decision you made together?!" the old man asked in amazement.

"Yes. I hope you'll remember us warmly when you're back home!"

Everything inside the vagrant dropped away. He was nobody now, nothing in this house. The old man understood that clearly. But he was wrong. The Tragedian still needed Omar.

The next day, while Yuri was at work and Annette had gone to the store, Omar packed all his belongings and left the apartment. The stairwell was silent. It breathed with a bronchial whistle -- a draft running from the first floor to the fifth. And it remained silent. That silence became frightening. What can be more frightening than the silence of loneliness?! Omar abruptly turned around and, swinging his fat ass, went back into the apartment. From his bottomless bags he took out a box of matches. Looked around...

"The curtains," Omar said in chorus with the Tragedian. Striking matches against the box as he walked, dropping them on the floor and fumbling out new ones with trembling hands, the vagrant moved toward his destiny. At last fire lit the room. Small... still small.

Omar remembered everything good the Lazars had done for him. More than his own family had ever done. For a moment his resolve wavered. Then the old man remembered how distantly the spouses had looked at him lately, as though he were a stranger. These wealthy city people did not care that he was going nowhere, unwanted, old and weak! They would live their peaceful lives in their bright city apartment and retribution for their sins would never catch them. While he, Omar, had suffered all his life and would go on suffering...

"Ow!" the old man cried when fire burned his fingers and they opened by themselves. The burning match fell toward the curtains...

... Annette saw that something in her apartment was burning while she was still approaching the house. She called the fire department as she ran. She flew up the stairs to her floor and flung open the apartment door. The fire teased Annette, showing her its tongues. Beyond the redness, by the window, stood Omar.

"Omar, what happened?! The apartment is on fire! We have to get out. Why are you standing there?!"

The vagrant turned toward her with a sad expression.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"What?! Are you delirious?! You'll burn alive in here!"

"I know."

Annette decided not to listen to the madman. She ran to him, seized his arm and pulled, but he did not move!

"Omar, stop it! What's wrong with you?! Don't even think I'm leaving you here!"

"I'm not leaving. I don't need a life without you."

Annette froze.

"What are you talking about???"

"About how you pushed me away like an old, sick, useless dog! Like I'm a worm!"

"Omar, you know that's not true..."

"Not true?! Not true?! Prove it! Have sex with me!"

The yogini was scalded, not by the fire, but by the old man's words.

"Are you out of your mind?! I'm married! What kind of insanity is this?!"

"I knew it! Then I'm staying!"

"No, you're not!"

Annette again tried to drag Omar out of the apartment by force, but he clung to the radiator with a death grip. The beauty looked at the fire. It was becoming more dangerous. The curtains at the neighboring window had burned away completely. If the flames reached these curtains...

"All right, Omar, come with me and I'll have sex with you!!!" Annette lied.

"No! I don't believe you! Do it now!"

"The apartment is on fire! We'll burn!"

"Not if we're quick!"

Annette looked around desperately, fire reflected in her eyes. She had to decide something immediately. The damned firefighters were taking their time. The choice was simple: leave Omar to burn alive or save him. In truth Annette had no choice. She did not know Omar was bluffing.

"But I have changed. I did it. I put out that crazed stupidity that had grown inside me until it was as vast as an abyss. No more cheating on my husband. I promised myself that..." Annette thought as she approached the windowsill. She looked into the old man's eyes. Why did this man ruin everything? What was wrong with him? Maybe he had been sent to her so she could save him?

"Yes!" the beauty seized on the thought. "Exactly! Filth has to be crushed under pressure until it becomes diamonds. I only need a crucible... I am the crucible. I have revelations like this sometimes... the sky turns scarlet... bottomless and full of meaning... And if I kiss someone, he'll see it too! Even Omar! Even him!"

And Annette fastened her mouth onto the goat's lips in a hot kiss. A few moments later their tongues intertwined. Listening to the crackle of fire, Annette broke the kiss and threw her coat to the floor. She lifted her skirt, lowered her panties to her knees, braced both hands against the windowsill, and bent over.

"Do it, Omar," Annette said. The old man did not need to be told twice. He had gotten what he wanted! Just when Annette had fluttered forever out of his nets like a butterfly, he had managed to lure her back inside!

Reader, breathe in the glorious storm-ozone of monstrous catastrophe! Time to make our nerves tingle with vice!

Omar's enormous cock, reddish in the reflected firelight, gleamed when the old man lubricated it with saliva. Omar aimed the head directly at the labia of the desired "whore" and pressed against them slightly.

"Ooooooh!" Annette moaned with unexpected brightness, her whole body jerking. Vice after long abstinence tasted painfully sharp. The beauty had not expected her body to betray its mistress at once and explode in fireworks of happy hormones. No sex with her husband could be better than this. But then, can you compare sun with moon, love with vice?..

Omar rubbed the large head over her labia, squeezing moisture from them.

"JUST FUCK ME ALREADY!" Annette suddenly blurted. Five minutes earlier Omar had thought she was forever beyond his reach. And now his cock was entering cosmic Annette.

"Ummmmmf!" she moaned, arching like a wheel.

"Finally!" the demonic goat exulted furiously and began mating with the angel like an animal.

"Oh! Mm! Ah! Ah! Ah!" Annette sang the song of vice. How unaccustomed she had become to this large horse cock! Omar knew how to fill a woman with himself COMPLETELY, so tightly that it even hurt a little!

Slap, slap, slap! Against the crackle of the fire came the treacherous sounds of infidelity. One of Yuri's coworkers told him they had seen smoke coming from his house. The bank manager ran outside. Cursing the traffic, still without a coat, he crossed the street and looked up at the open window of his apartment. That was when husband and wife met each other's eyes. At that very moment Omar was fucking Ann from behind.

"What happened?!" Yuri shouted. "Why are you still in the apartment?!"

Annette clenched her teeth to keep from moaning. Omar was fucking her brutally even though he could hear that the "local bitch was talking to her cuckold." That infuriated Omar and made him pound Annette with particular savagery. Yuri wanted to take her away again! Omar had had to set the apartment on fire just to get this proud woman bent over, and Yuri was still interfering!!! Oh, the old goat was burning, but not from the flames. He burned with furious desire!

"I'm... waiting for the firefighters!"

Annette herself understood how ridiculous that sounded, but the vagrant was taking her so violently that she could not generate a normal answer.

"You can't get out because of the fire?" her husband supplied the answer for her. Omar slapped the bitch sharply and leaned back so he would not be visible in the window.

"Y-yes!"

Yuri ran for the ladder behind the house. The old man seized his chance and began fucking Annette even harder. The pounding nearly sent her flying out the window! The vagrant turned her toward him without stopping, then spat in her face. Shocked, Annette wanted to protest, but decided it was an expression of passion and no reason to become angry at an old man who was already broken. Her wet vagina received his demonic essence with care and pity.

The fire engines arrived.

"Say you're my fucking whore!" the old man shouted. "Say you and your husband are my whores!!! Both of you are my whores!"

Annette stared in shock at the old man ramming her with his huge cock. She absolutely had not intended to say anything of the sort! But the firefighters had arrived, her husband was carrying a ladder, the sex had to end, and deranged Omar would not finish unless he... finished! It was obvious he wanted her to the point of madness!

"Yes, Omar, Yuri and I -- WE ARE YOUR PERSONAL WHORES!!!" Annette cried, looking into the pale herring-colored sky.

A splash. Annette felt as though a waterfall of semen had crashed into her, enough to put out the fire.

Chapter 9

Annette and Omar climbed out of the house hot. But nobody knew it was not from the fire; it was from the heat of their treacherous coupling. Yuri put a hand to his wife's forehead and immediately snatched it away as though burned.

"You're so hot!"

"You have to leave the house with some heat in reserve!" Annette said with a nervous little laugh, looking away. "It is winter, after all..."

She embraced her husband and buried her face in his chest while the firefighters did their work. It was strange to rest in her husband's arms after Omar had fucked her... Yuri met the old man's gaze. Something in Omar's eyes made him deeply uneasy. Little devils seemed to be dancing in them, mocking Yuri...

... In fact, the fire was not as terrible as it might have been. They did not have to move out. But the apartment needed repairs.

"Omar will do the repairs!" Annette said firmly. "He suffered because I wasn't paying enough attention to him, and now he has the right to receive at least some work from us in return!"

The feeling that she had to save Omar did not leave Annette even after the man she was supposedly saving had fucked her hard like a whore in front of her husband and come inside her. On the contrary, somehow it fastened them to each other, like black magic. Annette had only just freed herself from the old man, and now he had fastened her to himself again... with his cock.

Yuri did not argue with his wife, though he disliked her decision. He thought Ann must be suffering from intense guilt and that the quickest way to free her from it was to let his wife help Omar. And so the vagrant remained with the Lazars.

Chapter 10

A few days later Yuri looked at Omar's helpless neck, at the sad expression of his cervical vertebrae, and thought that something had changed after the fire. Everything seemed the same, but it had grown darker. The old man had become more brazen and uninhibited, strutting around like a dandy. Annette, meanwhile, had become somehow scattered and was doing less yoga again...

One day Yuri came home from work early and found Annette in a rather indecent state.

"Oh, Yuri, why are you home so early?" the beauty chirped. She was wearing a mesh corset with sturdy cups supporting her lush bust. A pattern of pink roses emphasized the tenderness and youthfulness of her skin. Laces edged with ruffles climbed upward; more ruffles ran horizontally from her breasts to form little sleeves connecting the two parts of the outfit. And the last detail, the sweetest, was a pair of marshmallow-pink panties... A lovely sight for a wife greeting her husband. Except... Annette had not even known her husband would come home at this hour!

"I thought I'd surprise the woman I love," he replied, producing a bouquet from behind his back.

"Oh, they're beautiful!!!" Annette exclaimed as she accepted the gift.

"Not as beautiful as you," Yuri said softly -- and then he saw Omar. The old man was sitting on a chair wearing only his underwear. Not even a T-shirt. Something stabbed painfully in Yuri's chest. It felt as though he had touched something hidden, something that kept slipping away from him. Something lurking deep in Omar's goatish eyes.

"Why aren't you changing, my best man in the world?"

"I... I was thinking about something. By the way, why are you walking around in your panties in front of a guest?"

"He's in his underwear too. It's a family atmosphere," Annette laughed.

"We are not family," Yuri said sternly. The smile slid from the beauty's face.

"Go on, tell me again that I dress like a whore."

"Ann, I..."

"Listen. Don't explain. I'm going to change and do yoga now. Please don't bother me," Annette said coldly. "Thank you for the flowers."

And she walked away, swaying her ass. Omar's eyes swayed too, glued to it. Yuri's mouth fell open.

"How did I, the one bringing her a present, end up guilty because my wife walks around in her panties in front of another man?!"

And again, there was that feeling that something was hidden, something he could sense but could not see...

... Yuri went to shower. He was already drying himself with a towel when his phone gave a notification. Yuri glanced at it. That "Local Sluts" channel again. Yuri usually ignored its posts, but he had never unsubscribed. He did not know why. The fact that his own wife appeared on the channel as one of the "local sluts" would not let him leave it.

Yuri was about to put the phone aside when he saw a familiar profile picture. Omar! The old man had posted something! Yuri dropped the towel and opened the new post.

The caption under the photo read: "Im doing repairs for this lil slut at her house. An she pays me back the way she knows how, like a slut. Today she got all dressed up an let me take pics of her tits. While husbands at work! Dont marry local women, there all whores!"

Even in writing Omar was unmistakably tongue-tied. Yuri felt as though all light had vanished from the universe and an impenetrable darkness had fallen. Everything was back. Omar was playing tricks with Ann again, and again she was yielding. Why. Why?! What else did she let him do???

Yuri remembered the cameras. He had almost completely stopped looking at them; trust, with difficulty, had returned to the family. And in a single instant it was gone again.

Yuri opened the app and began tapping through different parts of the day, hoping to see nothing worse than his wife posing for Omar's camera. Unfortunately, Yuri saw something far worse.

Omar lay on their marital bed, scraping his hooves in thick, badly pulled-up socks over the snow-white sheet. Annette was above him, naked, sitting on his face! She braced her hands against the pillow and moved her hips, fucking the old man's face.

"Why, Ann, why, why?!" Yuri whispered, slowly sliding down the wall to the floor. "Everything was getting better... why again?! Why is this happening to me, to us?!"

Even as he said it, Yuri was already feeling his erect cock through his pants. How long it had been since he masturbated to his wife's infidelity... After abstinence, the pleasure felt painfully sharp, bringing no less pain than delight. As though strings had been torn out of his soul so that a vulgar tune could be played on them. But Yuri could not stop. 6 Maple Court had bided its time.

"Mm, mm," the bank manager was soon moaning softly as he watched his wife, astride Omar's face, fuck the old man's mouth. Yuri thought he heard something through the earbud lying on the nightstand. He slipped the little white drop into his ear, rewound, and heard:

"Why isn't Suhrob calling? Why?.." Annette asked with anguish in her voice. Yuri froze in astonishment. He had thought things were bad, but they were even worse. While fucking Omar, Annette had been thinking about another man! And that man was not her husband...

"I... mmmdon't mknow," Omar answered with difficulty. His mouth was occupied. Thanks to yoga, Annette did not tire and kept moving her hips energetically.

"Then... ah... talk to him! Mmm! Hint that he should... ah... call me! But don't let him know I asked! Mm!"

Yuri's head spun. Behind his back his wife was pining for another man, the man who had whipped her with a belt and wanted her to suck him off. And Ann was asking her lover to draw that man back toward her... how could such sluttishness even be possible?! Was this really Ann?! Or did some other person periodically replace her, a person identical to her down to the last drop of water yet opposite to her in essence?!

"He's still... mmm... worried about your husband!" Omar said. "Afraid to have... mmm... dealings with a jealous husband... mmm!"

"Ah! About Yuri... mm!.. he doesn't need to worry! Tell him my husband is... ah, ah, ah... under my thuuuumb!!!"

Yuri set the phone aside and began masturbating rapidly. Very soon he came harder than he had in a long time; semen flew everywhere around him. Yuri closed his eyes and did not notice himself falling asleep. In his dream he watched symbolic scenes, all of them saying the same thing: life consists of a substance called lies. This substance has a peculiar property -- nothing can be examined too long, because any object or person, stared at long enough, turns out not to be what it seems...

Two days later Annette met her husband in the surviving part of the kitchen with a radiant smile. She was clearly bursting to tell him something.

"Why are you so pleased with yourself?" he asked.

"Suhrob invited me to a meeting about building my yoga center."

"That's... good news... but you mean he invited 'us,' right? He needs financing from my bank and wants to discuss it?"

"No. So far he invited only me. He said he'd discuss the financial side with you personally afterward. He's having a gathering with friends, and he invited me to it."

As she spoke, Annette coquettishly lifted one leg, plainly delighted.

"You? Alone? To his place, for a gathering with his friends?!"

Yuri remembered the breathy way his wife had spoken about Suhrob when she asked Omar to bring him up again. How she had looked at Suhrob's cock while refusing the insolent man. And how Suhrob himself had looked at Annette. He could have invited Ann to his place for only one reason.

"Yes. It's his birthday, and he said I'll be his present. Isn't that funny?" the beauty said, perching dreamily on the table. "Yuri, what's wrong?"

Yuri's vision went dark. He heard the Tragedian laughing loudly.

Outro

Like a young man who, after a solitary struggle with a shameful vice, tells himself with extraordinary clarity and force, "That's it, never again!", so I proclaim: that's all, the Story is over, there will be no more chapters, from this moment onward purity, the happiness of purity!!!

Tiri-bom. And bom again. No, I haven't lost my mind. I'm celebrating because I fooled somebody. You'll ask whom? Look in the mirror, Reader. There are many interesting things there. Of course, there will be more chapters. The Story still has plenty of strength left; it will outlive You and me and presidents and wars and... but there, I've fooled You again. The truth is that the Story is approaching its end, but I still don't know how many chapters it will need. As long as You and I are here, the Story will continue and come safely to its conclusion. So take care of yourself. Remember that the responsibility for the continuation of the Story rests on You. And take care of me too...

That's it, you can go. What are you waiting for?