Alexander Fufaev
My name is Alexander FufaeV and here I write about:

This dance lasted 6 years. A new phase of life begins.

On September 23, 2022, it was raining heavily. I waited for a while under the roof at Kröpcke to avoid getting completely soaked. During this waiting time, an idea came to me about a different way to connect with women on the street: instead of approaching them directly, one could compose a message on the phone and show it to the woman. She could then type her response on the phone. I wanted to try out this idea immediately.

After the rain subsided, I headed to the train station and looked for women who caught my eye and were in a place where I could take enough time to write a personalized message for them. At the station, I noticed a young, rather tall woman working as a saleswoman at the Body Shop. She had smooth blonde hair, wore a stylish black top, and light jeans. I stood in front of the Body Shop and watched her for a while as she interacted with customers. When the store was empty, she stood in front of the mirror and looked at herself. I almost felt like a stalker, so I grabbed my phone and composed a message in a Telegram chat: "Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the fairest of them all? Hey, I'm Sasha! I spotted you here while waiting outside the Body Shop. Wanted to tell you that you look simply enchanting – a bit like Elsa from the movie 'Frozen'. I'd love to get to know you. Let's exchange numbers! Just write your reply here below."

After finishing the message, two customers entered the store. The slight excitement I felt grew more intense with each passing second as I waited. When the two customers left the store, I approached her directly as she sorted beauty products on a shelf. When I stood in front of her, she noticed me and smiled kindly. From this close, I could perceive her impressive height – she was certainly twenty centimeters taller than me. Additionally, I could smell a pleasant, sweet vanilla scent emanating from her.

I silently handed her my phone so she could read my message. As she read the message, a smile slowly formed on her face. Then, she began typing with her long, red-painted fingernails. The way her fingers swiftly flew over the phone made it seem like an eternity, though it was probably only a few moments.

Suddenly, a customer entered the store.

"Please wait a moment," she briefly interrupted her typing and glanced at the customer.

A few seconds later, she finished her message and handed me back my phone: "That really makes me happy :) I've had a tiring day, and this brightened it up. However, I have a boyfriend and even a son, so I wouldn't give my number to any man, sorry! Stay as you are!"

I nodded without saying anything and returned her friendly smile. Filled with a sense of happiness, I continued my way home, thrilled by the method that seemed to have worked.

At home, it was quiet. Claudia was probably there, but she was always so quiet that I was never sure if she was present. Earlier, I had heard Hanna in her room with the power drill – she was probably tinkering with her room again.

I fell into bed and installed the Bumble app on my phone. Then, I uploaded a professional photo of myself that Dascha had taken, and started swiping. Without looking at the profiles of the women, I swiped right on all of them – the motto being, there will surely be a woman who shows interest.

A few minutes later, I already had a match with a Katharina. She was five years older than me, brunette, slim, and had beautiful, full lips. Her profile was empty, but at least it said she wasn't looking for a relationship.

In the evening, she finally messaged me, and we started chatting. It was about trivial things – our professions, our locations, and our hobbies.

Only a week later did we start talking about sex and began inventing a shared sexual story. We alternately filled the story with our fantasies.

I began: "It was an evening. Dressed smartly and with a bottle of wine in my hand, I rang your doorbell. When you opened the door, I saw a pretty lady in a black dress and black tights. Your lips wore a dark red lipstick that perfectly matched your dark brown eyes and hair..."

Then Katharina continued her fantasy for the rest of the story: "I took the wine bottle from you and put it down on the dresser. You came closer to me, so close that I could feel your breath, and looked deep into my eyes. Without exchanging a word, I felt your sexual desire for me. Your lips came even closer to me and you kissed my lower lip without letting go. You held it between your lips while my lips encircled your upper lip. I could feel your hands slowly sliding down both sides of my ribs, to my waist and then to my bottom. Your hands were so big that they encompassed my entire bottom. Your massaging movements on my bottom, combined with a kiss that gradually turned into a subtle French kiss, excited me immensely. My panties were already wet..."

"Katharina, I've already got a boner," I wrote to her in response, "Can you send me a hot photo of yourself? I need to redeem myself."

A short time later, I received a photo. It showed Katharina in a black skirt, lying on her side with her legs bent and her bottom facing the mirror. The skirt had ridden up so that Katharina's red panties could be seen.

"Let's continue writing later. I have something urgent to do right now," I wrote with a winky smile.

"Have fun with it. I hope we can make our story real soon."

"We will," I replied and switched to the photo to memorize it well. I then placed the cell phone next to me on the bed.

My hand slipped into my underpants and clutched my erect penis. With slow up and down movements, I began to masturbate while I unbuttoned my jeans with my other hand, unzipped them and pulled down both the jeans and the underpants. I imagined myself lying at a ninety-degree angle to Katharina's upper body. Her feet are placed on my legs. My naked private parts pressed against her red panties. I continued to imagine pushing the panties to the side and letting my penis slowly enter. I took my time and masturbated slowly. I enjoyed the fantasy and the intense arousal. The image of Katharina in my head was so real. Despite the slow movements, I came faster and had a longer-lasting climax than if I had done it with an iron grip at faster-than-light speed.

This dance lasted six years

September 25, 2022. Sundays were always a time for Jule and me to enjoy a special breakfast. I would always go get rolls, and we would have a hearty breakfast. Then, we would settle on the sofa, enjoy a coffee with frothed oat milk, and either read separately or Jule would read me news from the Hannover region or interesting facts from Wikipedia.

However, this Sunday, breakfast unfolded a bit differently. The sun was shining as we sat in the kitchen, enjoying Jule's new favorite dish, fried eggs with baked beans and tomatoes. Since her return from England, she had been leaning back towards animal products, especially eggs, perhaps inspired by the delicious English breakfast.

"Sasha," Jule began, and just the way she said my name made me perk up. She didn't usually call me that when we were alone. Her expression revealed that she had something significant to say. "Emotionally, I don't feel anything for you anymore," she continued.

The sentence hit me so unexpectedly that I stopped chewing and just stared at her, unsure of how to react.

After a longer pause, during which she looked directly at me – not turning away or staring into space – she spoke again: "I've decided to end our relationship."

"Oh, wow, that's unexpected," was all I could reply.

A few seconds later, a tear fell from my eye onto my plate.

"Jule, I thought we were both eco-freaks. We always try to fix everything before we buy something new," I tried to lighten the tense emotional situation with a joking comment.

Jule, who now also had tears in her eyes, managed to laugh nonetheless.

"Ou…r r la io ship is pro…ably no long r to f fix," she tried to say something to me through tears.

"What did you say?" I asked giggling, as I couldn't understand Jule's sobbing, stuttering words. She quickly wiped her nose and made another attempt.

"I said, our relationship is probably not more to repair."

I became serious again.

"Yes, you're probably right."

It seemed so impossible to let go of a part of my family.

"Jule, I think I've contributed a lot to our relationship being irreparable," I confessed.

"What do you mean?" Jule asked, wiping away her tears.

"I haven't truly loved you in the past few years."

I lowered my gaze. A moment of silence followed. Then I continued.

"When I looked into your eyes, I didn't feel the love I felt when I looked at Mara."

"I didn't feel the urge to spend time with you. Instead, I preferred working on my website."

"And when we were out in a café or restaurant, or just riding the tram, I never really listened to you. Instead, I preferred checking out hot women in tight leggings."

"It felt awkward for me to hug you or hold hands with you in public lately. It didn't feel sincere."

"I didn't even really miss you when you were in England."

"You don't deserve to be treated like this by me, Jule."

By now, I could barely see through my tear-filled eyes. Tears dripped onto my pants, directly into the crotch area.

"Jule, look, I've wet myself," I stood up and pointed to the large wet patch on my pants.

Jule cried and laughed at the same time.

I sat down next to Jule on the floor, resting my head in her lap as she stroked my hair. We talked into the afternoon about our relationship, the good and the bad, things we hadn't told each other before. It was a painful farewell as we hugged tightly and for a long time in the hallway.

"Goodbye, my darling. I wish you an awesome life. With hardcore champagne parties…" I sang with a tearful voice, a reference to the song by the band Glasperlenspiel.

Jule laughed.

"Goodbye, Sashi."

We hugged one last time, and I left the apartment. In the stairwell, I looked back once more and waved to Jule. A few steps further, I did it again. Jule waved back. Then I lost sight of her.

I wiped the tears from my face with my t-shirt, took a deep breath, and started walking home. The sun broke through the clouds as I approached the main entrance of the central station. At the same time, a light rain was falling, but it was so gentle that there was no need to seek shelter from it. I sat outside at a café, watching the people streaming out of the station, and enjoyed a latte macchiato with oat milk.

The sadness inside me began to fade, and deep down, I harbored the hope that after Jule's trip to Italy, we could start anew and fall in love with each other. But I knew it wouldn't be as easy as I hoped in that moment. The dance of love with Jule ended today after six years.

Learnings from my long-term relationship: When I talked to Jule about my feelings, I sometimes omitted certain things that I feared could hurt her (like the uncomfortable feeling when we held hands) or that I considered less significant (like being distracted by attractive women or imagining having sex with other women). In the future, when I start a relationship, I won't withhold any information but discuss them openly with my partner.

Only now, after our relationship has ended, do I realize that Jule may have been distant because I didn't sincerely love her as the woman for life. Instead, I behaved selfishly by staying in a relationship just to avoid being alone. This lack of complete commitment to the person led me to not really listen to her, especially recently, and only give her token responses. Even during train rides or our family time, I preferred being on my laptop or phone instead of spending time with Jule with my full attention.