LITMIR.BIZ

      Carla rented an apartment on the second floor. The house was located a block from the metro station. There were tram tracks nearby. At night there was relative calm around. The walls in the corridors and staircases were hidden under an abundance of graffiti, advertisements and obscene inscriptions indicating the addressees.

      Carla and Harry stepped over the threshold. Taking off their outer clothes, they walked towards the bedroom. The apartment was noticeably clean. There was at least one flower pot in all rooms. In some places, high-quality fakes of world-famous paintings hung on the walls. In the living room, above the sofa, hung a copy of Claude Monet’s Beach in Pourville. In the bedroom was «The Pilot Jetty at Le Havre», the original author of which was Camille Pissarro. In painting, Carla preferred impressionism, admiring how realistic the objects in the paintings looked, despite the complex technique that the artists used. As for the interior of the apartment, for the sake of comfort, she adhered to minimalism; Moreover, minimalism was manifested both in design and in putting things in order – a minimum of dust on every square centimeter. Minimalism in her apartment was visible twenty-four hours a day. The wallpaper throughout was dark tones with gold, quartz and purple meander patterns. The bathroom was tiled with aquamarine tiles.

      – Nice apartment – said Harry, looking around him. – How much do you rent?

      – Five hundred.

      – Not bad at all. Did you furnish it yourself?

      – Yes.

      – Sorry for being annoying, but how? I mean, for example, I need a year’s salary to have these things in my apartment.

      – Let’s just say that I have seven clients who regularly bring a certificate from a venereologist.

      They approached the bed. Harry lowered the briefcase to the floor near the wall. Carla began to unbutton her blouse. Watching Carla’s voluminous and firm breasts become increasingly exposed in her black lace bra, Harry waited a moment before saying:

      – Wait.

      Carla froze with some bewilderment:

      – Something is wrong?

      – No. It’s just that I can do it in twenty minutes, and for the remaining forty we could talk about something? One question haunts me, but I keep forgetting to ask you.

      A little surprised by this request, Carla still agreed:

      – Yes. Of course.

      Shifting his attention from the breasts to the girl’s large brown pupils, Harry added:

      – Just let’s get this done BEFORE we get down to business.

      – Then maybe tea or coffee?

      – Coffee. Yes. Thank you – Harry continued to say in a concerned tone. Some nervousness began to appear in his movements.

      Without buttoning her blouse, Carla left the room, inviting Harry to follow her into the kitchen.

      While Carla was putting the coffee on to brew, she asked:

      – So what do you want to chat about?

      Rubbing his lips and staring at the floor, Harry struggled to begin the conversation.

      – I’m still tormented by one question. My ex always reproaches me for cheating on her like a dog. You’re a smart girl. I forgot what your profession is?

      – Sociologist.

      – YES! Exactly. So, can you explain to me where the line is between cheating and fidelity?

      Rubbing his lips and staring at the floor, Harry struggled to begin the conversation.

      – I’m still tormented by one question. My ex always reproaches me for cheating on her like a dog. You’re a smart girl. I forgot what your profession is?

      – Sociologist.

      – YES! Exactly. So, can you explain to me where the line is between cheating and fidelity?

      Carla sat down at the kitchen table opposite Harry. She offered him a cigarette, but he refused, asking her to put the pack away. He insisted that they smoke from his pack.

      After the first puff, Carla asked:

      – What answer would you like, scientific language or simpler?

      – Well, I’m kind of like an insurance agent. I think I can understand scientific language.

      For a moment, Carla stared at the ceiling, rummaging through her memory, and soon began to expound:

      – Well, listen and remember. Classification of sex. There are three types of sex: illegal, informal and marital. Illegal is when at least one of the two partners is married. That is, the wife sleeps with her lover or the husband with his mistress. In this case, a person violates marriage ethics by refusing intimate relations with legal spouse. In this case, a relationship with someone else can be clearly defined as cheating. The second type of sex is informal. If, say, an unmarried woman sleeps with a bachelor neighbor. None of them are married, and due to this fact, they owe nothing to anyone. But they are nothing to each other either. Therefore, if in this case there is betrayal, then it is, rather, a betrayal of one’s own moral principles, and nothing more. The last type of sex is marital. It can be formal and legal. Formal means that during sex, either husband or wife does not receive any pleasure, but do it because it should be so or so that a spouse does not suspect anything. For example, in cheating or lack of sexual desire. And finally, legal sex. This is the exact opposite of formal. Typically, legal sex occurs in the first years of married life. In other words, this is when spouses fuck like rabbits, and at the same time both husband and wife are incredibly happy from sex, after which they will not experience a feeling of deep shame, because no matter how you look at it, this sex is absolutely legal. But first of all, of course, it is legal from a moral point of view. – After a short pause, Carla said: – Questions?

      – What questions? –

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