Neena, behind her, wears her signature white shirt but this time with a pleated skirt and black loafers on her bare feet. Around one ankle, she has a ...gold ankle bracelet. She looks like a corporate secretary or PA.Anatoly decides to dispense with Slavic patronymics, knowing they can, to western ears, appear anything from exotic to ridiculous, according to the sympathies of the company.He replies: “I am Anatoly Kustensky. This is my wife and partner, Svetlana, and my colleague, Neena, who is. I went to the bike, smiled at him, and he took the one beside me. He asked, “What’s your story?”“Well, married… no kids, shitty job. What’s yours?”He said, “Fat and losing weight,” adding that he was fifty-five and his doctor said he was prediabetic. “I like to keep in shape,” I told him and he took that as an invitation to say I was in “perfect shape.” Smiling, I thanked him and we spent the next fifteen minutes making fun of the other people in the room. I grew to like him enough to say, “Can. I break off our kiss and my stranger smacks my ass hard as I walk over to get my phone. It's my alarm, telling me that the car will be here in ten minutes to pick me up and take me to the airport. Looking back at my stranger, I know that I won't be up for another round of sex anytime soon. He has fucked me harder, longer, and rougher than any lover I've had, but I can see that lustful light in his eyes still... I know that while he was more than enough for me, I won't be enough to fully run him. We played games, went swimming in our backyard, grilled out, watched some movies and put the little one to bed. Isaiah and I decided to go back out for a swim but he seemed… hesitant of everything now. He opened up to me about his past and how he was terrified he’d hurt me like everyone else but I pleaded that none of that mattered to me and that it was a little too late for him to be thinking like that. By that I meant the life we had, our marriage, our son, the fact that I knew too much.