As her smile came into his mind’s eye he began to relax. “You’re here to enjoy yourself Anatol, forget business just for a few hours,” he muttered to himself.Across the street a group of three young guys walked by, all laughing at something and talking animatedly. They kept turning and glancing behind them, and one of them almost fell over his own feet. Anatol checked the time: seven twenty-five. Somehow, he just knew what they were staring at.He was right. Yulia looked spectacular.She was wearing a tight black, leather-look mini dress. This in itself would be outstanding enough, but from the top of her left thigh, where, incidentally the dress hemline stopped, there was a length of ever-widening lace that exposed her hidden nudity all the way to where the leather stopped to reveal her ample cleavage. The widest stretch of lace held the dress front apart clearly exposing the swell of her braless breasts and encouraged the suggestion that quite possibly Yulia wore absolutely nothing. "She might have given him a chance.Except that he stayed in that fucking chair as he said it.She was reading in bed when the door opened and he surprised her by slinking into the bedroom. He stopped, just inside."You're ... um ... not using it right now ... are you?"She looked down at the bedspread that covered her body. She was holding the book with both hands."It doesn't do anything by itself," she said, sarcastically."You're mad," he said, as if that were a surprise announcement. "I'm sorry." What are you sorry for?" she asked. "Sorry you didn't get to see me doing that? I hear men like to watch."He blinked."Of course not." He looked around for some reason. "I mean, sure, that would be interesting, but that's not why I'm here." Why are you here?" she asked."Why do you think?" he asked."I'm your husband." You want to have sex?" Her astonishment was tempered by the realization that she had goaded him into this. She said it again. "You want to have sex?" putting the emphasis on a.
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