A walk in the park

"I think Lev and I will go for a walk in the park, first," Nadia interrupts, "before you two girls get a hold of him. Fair?" She is standing in the hall doorway, watching you. Karina silently raises your hands until they rest on her hips - not entirely appropriate, but better than on her ass. Nadia likely can't see anything anyways.

Karina rolls her eyes as she steps away from you and says: "I guess."

Mia turns away, shielding her wet shirt from your wife. You get the hint and leave the kitchen, pulling Nadia with you.

"The park?" you say, with a raised eyebrow.

"I thought we would use this day together for something. Does that not suit you?" she asks, in her thick Russian accent.

"A walk in the park sounds wonderful."

Your wife smiles back; a small, sad smile. Nonetheless, the two of you soon end up at the park. Nadia wears black leggings, riding boots, an oversized sweater, and a thick puffer jacket, while you wear the same clothes from earlier, with leather boots and a denim jacket. You walk side by side, passing beneath the bridges and paths that eat their way through the park like a human ant colony, enjoying the feeling of nature around you. Oak and cedar trees fill the scenic space, at odds with the city skyline still visible just through the leafy branches.

"Do you remember when we would take walks like this, back in Russia?" she asks. Her eyes are distant, staring into something that is no longer there, as she walks.

"Of course, dear. I would walk you across the bridge to your painting class. All while fighting off two feet of snow. I could never forget that."

She smiles at you and grabs your arm, sliding hers through it in an interlocking motion. You continue to walk, arm in arm.

"And then I would walk you back to that apartment," you continue.

"And then what?" she asks, a sly look in her eyes.

"You know what."

"My memory is failing me in my old age, I think."

"Then we would make love until you screamed into those old, factory windows."

"Hmm, that does ring a bell."

She says no more, and the two of you continue to walk. You walk the entire park once, then twice, before she speaks again.

"It seems like Karina has grown closer to you recently. Mia, too."

"Indeed. I have been trying to spend more time with her. That's why I took her to dinner the other night. I want to do the same with you, Nadia."

You pause, turning her to face you. Her breath rises into the air in a white cloud. Her cheeks are flushed - from the cold or your presence, you have no idea.

"Is that what you want?" you ask.

She pauses, thinking. Her eyes meet yours, and you see a faint glisten within them. The white cloud dissipates.

"Yes, I would like that."

And then she is walking again, dragging you behind her, until your interlocked arms break apart. You start to catch up, but you pause as you see her ass in those black leggings, almost concealed by her sweater. You whistle, a proud and lusty emotion behind it.

"What's that for?" she asks, not looking behind.

"I forgot how wonderful your butt looks in legging."

She turns back to face you, and this time you can tell her flushed cheeks are not due to the weather.

"Don't say that, Lev. It's cruel."

"Cruel?"

"I'm an old woman now. You don't have to try to make me feel better. I know I'm not sexy anymore."

You stare at her incredulously. Old woman? What?

"Nadia, I don't know why you think that. You're a beautiful woman."

She turns away and continues walking, murmuring over her shoulder: "No, not anymore."

In a moment of pain, you open your phone. Three notifications wait for you.

Nadia: Affection: -10 (+8). Love: -4 (+6). Lust: 0 (+0).

Karina: Affection: 52 (+8). Love: 62 (+2). Lust: 50 (+2).

Mia: Affection: 20 (+4). Love: 19 (+5). Lust: 23 (+3).

You ignore the updates and open the perks screen, scroll to the Trusted, and dump two points into it. A two times ten percent increase to how much people trust you. You lock your phone, slide it back into your pocket, and jog to catch up with your wife.

You grab her hand, stopping her. You realize you are on the peak of a bridge, overlooking a cerulean pond. She turns to face you, her auburn hair falling over her face.

"I mean it, Nadia. You are a beautiful woman. I never thought otherwise, and you shouldn't either. I know I haven't been around, and you've been lonely, but that has never been because you are not beautiful. You're as beautiful as you were in Russia, when you had our daughter, and every day after that. My attraction to you has never been stronger, and I know that would not be true for some 'old lady.'"

She bites her lip, a nervous tic you had long forgotten. It comes back to you in a flood - standing on that bridge in St. Petersburg, the snow falling around the two of you, her teeth dragging against the silken skin of her plush lips.

In a moment of confidence, you pull your wife close, darting your hand to her chin and lifting it. Your lips connect, and you sigh at the sudden sensation filling you. It's like coming home, or never having left. As though your problems are melting away. Nadia kisses you back, her lips perching against yours, and the seconds tick by. Eventually, she pulls away, but only slightly. Your faces are close, your eyes only inches from each other: her blue, deep eyes stare at you with a foreign but familiar look.

"Lev," she whispers, before leaning back into you. Your heart thunders - your vision narrows - this is what you have been missing. Hundred hour work weeks, for what? To lose your wife and never know your daughter? You kiss Nadia back, her lips hungry, as she slides her tongue into your mouth. The taste of orange juice lingers from your morning breakfast. Your hands drift around her, pulling her against you, as your cock roars to life. It clings to her, pressing into her stomach, and you feel her whimper through your interlocked lips. Her arms wrap around you, pulling you tighter, grabbing onto your ass with greedy fingers. Your hands drift lower, dancing along the hem of her leggings before making the plunge and grabbing the soft and plush mounds of her ass as well. They're soft. Bigger than Karina's. And wonderful. She moans and presses herself hard into you. An image of Karina, just after your dinner together, flashes through your mind.

"Nadia," your murmur back.

Your cock pounds against your sweatpants, eager to break free, as you and your wife suck tongues on an unknown bridge, in some park, in New York.