SugarNadya
The Adventures of Mistress of Male Depilation. Country swing

© SugarNadya, 2021

© Aegitas publishing house, 2021

Country swing

– Listen to what I'll tell you… – Kirill was sitting down imposingly on the couch with a cup of tea. There was a plate of oriental sweets on the coffee table in front of him.

– Well, well, – owner of the depilation salon Mrs. SugarNadya shook her head, passing by her husband, – Do you want to tell me about your problems at work or share some office gossip?

– Rather, Countess, – the husband of a very famous depilation master said importantly, taking a piece of baklava and thoughtfully turning it in front of his nose. – I want to tell you an oriental legend.

Nadya nodded:

– Of course.

– Stop fussing, sit with me, I will pour you some tea, and you’ll take some lokum…

– No, I don’t eat the starch with sugar. But you can pour me some tea.

Kirill rushed to the kitchen and a minute later put a cup of tea on a saucer in front of his wife.

– Well, listen, – he smiled and squinted his eyes with satisfaction, playing either a wise storyteller, or a bazaar charlatan selling some stuff to the highest bidder than it really is. – In ancient times in the East, where the starch with sugar and this wonderful gingerbread with honey and nuts were invented, – Kirill gestured round the sweets on the table with a wide gesture, – There were two brothers Shahriyar and Shahezman. They were kings in their own small, cozy kingdoms. So, once Shahezman was going to visit his brother. He left his kingdom with a caravan of camels, but after five minutes he remembered that he had forgotten something, for example, a passport. And he returned. His wife was lying in bed with a black man – one of the slaves at home. Shahezman became angry, took a saber, and chopped the lovers into pieces. And then…

Nadezhda didn’t hold back laughter.

– Did you make up the story yourself?

– Of course, but you didn’t listen to the end, there will be spectacular action.

– You say, himself? – SugarNadya screwed up one eye, took aim, and threw a baklava nut into her beloved husband's forehead. – But this shaggy-dog story is about thousand years past! You know, this is from “The Arabian Nights”, and the very first story, the book begins with it.

– So what? – the mistress’ chosen pouted his lips. – But it is interesting. Doesn’t anyone do like that now?

– How?

– Well, like in a story: got offended, began to be jealous, grabbed a saber and…

– Quite often, – answered Nadya. – Almost in every village. But they didn't grab a saber, it was a kitchen knife. That's the whole difference. It's much more interesting when it is in another way.

– What do you mean? When it’s not a kitchen knife, but an ax, or what?

– No, – the Sugar Mistress smiled mysteriously – I mean completely different thing. You’ll find it out now.

– That’s interesting… – Kirill said, pretending to look at his wife with suspicion.

– Are you really interested? – Nadezhda asked. She took a piece of baklava and smelled it. – Let me taste your oriental sweets, – taking drink of the fragrant gingerbread with tea, she said solemnly: – Well, listen to a modern and morality story.

Just imagine, summer, dacha…

– Garden patches with tomatoes and potatoes, – Kirill continued immediately, – we are working with hoes…

– No, – Nadya waved him off, – its not like that. A two-storey mansion, around a pine tree, a fence is entwined with ivy, and a shady alley leads to the gate… You just can't tune in to the right mood. Wait for a minute, – the woman stood up and quickly went into the bedroom.

Three minutes later she entered in, and Kirill whistled – his wife was in his suit and even a hat, and on her upper lip she had a moustache painted with ink: two black stripes famously bent in a hussar style. SugarNadya sat down on the sofa and continued her story.

– So, I'm Georgy, but my wife Elizabeth calls me George. I call her Liz. So, last summer we had a vacation at the dacha.

– Really? Was it lively? – Kirill tried to play along with his wife.

George held up his right hand imperiously, calling for silence. But nevertheless, he condescended to answer:

– It was terribly boring. The first couple of days we were enjoying the silence and clean air, which was saturated with pine needles, but then we got bored especially Liz. “Shall we go back to the city?” – she harped on all the time.

Due to the boredom, we even got acquainted with our neighbours. They were quite a young couple, approximately from our social circle. They arrived right after us by the “Land Rover” Defender. I was watching them from the second floor window and realized that they weren't having much fun either. She was a long-legged, slim, brunette with short hair was constantly lying on the garden couch, trying to bake in the shade of a large larch, and he was a lean blonde with a hairy chest and wearing glasses – he was spending hours while sitting in the blazing sun, trying to read a thick book looks like the telephone book.

– How did you meet? – Kirill was curious, having hardly chewed the viscous Turkish delight.

– That was obvious, – George grinned, bristling his painted mustache. – The brunette girl saw that I was watching her and waved her hand to me. I had no choice but to smile at her and wave back.

Before the evening, the neighbours came to visit us. They called at the gate: “Hello, we are your neighbours. Don’t worry, nothing happened, we just decided to meet you.” I invited them to come in, asked them to sit on the terrace. Liz joined us. And the neighbor took a bottle of good red wine from his backpack. So we made friends with them.

The next day we went to visit them – Victor and Natalya are called the couple, – invited us to a barbecue. And there… – Nadya made a dramatic pause.

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