Almost Erotic Stories

"Those worst hit by the strict self-isolation regime were Russian prostitutes. They were left unemployed and without compensation, since the Russian government does not regard this type of activity as a form of 'small business'". After reading this news on the Internet, Varvara Petrovna nodded her head with satisfaction. "And rightly so! May the sluts starve to death! Every day is no holiday, and after Christmas comes Lent". It was the second month of self-isolation. The days of sixty-three-year-old Varvara Petrovna had blurred together into one hazy, indistinguishable mass. Getting up, taking a walk on the balcony, preparing three daily meals, washing the dishes three times, watching TV, and reflecting on the nature of life and the ways of the world in horizontal position. In the next room, her husband Nikolai Ivanovich was likewise self-isolating. His daily routine, however, was much more interesting, since he went to the Five Kopeks grocery store, which was located on the ground floor of the building they lived in. Varvara Petrovna had back, neck, and leg pains, so it was her husband who always did the grocery shopping. Both spouses were now retired, had lived together for nearly forty years, and practically never spoke to each other. Each had their own television set. For Varvara Petrovna, such silence was rather unpleasant, but she had grown used to it. Silence was better, in any case, than conversations with her husband, which drove her crazy. Lately, he had developed the exasperating habit of contradicting her on all matters, which, of course, set her off every time. Varvara Petrovna had already completed her college degree by the time she got married - the last of her girlfriends to do so. Back in those days, if a girl wasn't married by age twenty-four, she was branded an old-maid, which was terribly stigmatizing. She was a disgrace to her family, and a laughing-stock of the neighborhood. Varvara didn't consider herself beautiful, since no one had ever told her she was; yet she regarded herself as determined and single-minded, although no one had ever mentioned this either. A tricky thing for a woman, this beauty business: you can never be sure of yourself, since, as they say, beauty's in the eye of the beholder. Varvara recalls how she and the already married Irka Skvortsova were sitting in the "Scarlet Sails" cafe at the time, writing down the names of all the unmarried available guys on a piece of paper. In the left-hand column, they wrote down the cons of each option, and in the right-hand column, the pros. Finally, after much debate and discussion, Varvara settled on Nikolai Ivanovich. The pros, in his case, significantly outweighed the cons: he was from a good family, earned a decent living as an engineer, didn't drink, didn't smoke. As for his cons: he was just a little too merry and popular with the ladies. But with a bit of careful thought and planning, these shortcomings could be corrected. Varvara took the initiative, and single-handedly seduced and coerced her object of choice into marriage. Seven months after the wedding, their son Vladimir was born, filling their family life with the usual host of everyday joys, cares, and concerns. "Summer's coming soon. Sure hope they let us freely go to our dachas. It'd be so super if Vova and the grandson could come down for a visit. Otherwise, it'll be absolute misery", reflected Varvara Petrovna, lying in bed. In the apartment one floor above, for the first time in twenty years, someone began to play the piano. Varvara Petrovna recalled that, in his younger days, her husband was rather fond of playing music himself, thereby easily scoring points with the ladies, and causing her to fly into terrible rages of jealousy. Varvara Petrovna was a very jealous woman. She didn't like it when Nikolai Ivanovich got that kind of attention. She saw how he would suddenly bloom and transform, unfolding his peacock's tail under the admiring glances of the opposite sex. Varvara Petrovna would have none of it - all attempts on her husband were immediately nipped in the bud. She would even call some of the girls at their homes, threatening "if I ever see you near him again...". Needless to say, in such cases, Nikolai Ivanovich likewise got a piece of her mind. Varvara Petrovna was a fighter in life. Once, Irka told her a sure-fire way to keep a husband from going astray. "To keep a man faithful, you gotta fatten him up, and then drop a few subtle hints that he's no Casanova in bed". The plan went off without a hitch, although Nikolai Ivanovich was, by nature, quite a decent fellow, and a rather level-headed one. In terms of their love life, Varvara Petrovna was always the one who took the initiative. Nikolai Ivanovich was measured in all things, quite calm and generous. For the eighth time that day, someone began moaning and groaning in the apartment next door. Varvara Petrovna can still recall that sunny May day as if it were yesterday. She was going to work, wearing a new white dress. At the entrance of the research institute where she worked in accounts, she ran into Sokolov from the second department. Sokolov was a model family man, the father of three children, and an infamous ladies man. He gave Varvara an admiring look, put his arm around her shoulder, and kissed her neck. That same day after work, some unknown force possessed her, forcing her to run to the beauty salon, where she got the latest haircut, manicure, and pedicure, as well as a bikini wax. The following day, for the first time in her life, she spent money on a tooth whitening procedure, and replaced her glasses with contacts. She felt reborn. The feeling was indescribable, and shook her to the core. She was a real woman - one-hundred percent.