"All women are" B ... ". And which are not “B ...”, everything is exactly “B ..." in the soul ”- says the well-known Russian proverb. I cannot with one hundred percent certainty assert the validity of this proverb, but cases that have been happening to me more often This is an irrefutable confirmation of this fact. Take, for example, work. Whatever problems are discussed in our mixed team: politics, technology or sports, sex always ends in a discussion of the problem. And the initiator of a smooth transition from the topic to sex has women can be under to think that the team came up with this, so no, I noticed a similar thing in other teams, both at home and in nature. I will not talk about men, women rightly believe that they, men, always have one thing in mind, that they are all “dogs.” Partly they are right, they are men, but if it were not for “B ...”, there would be no “dogs.” Perhaps the opposite is true. What is primary here, only God knows But that's not the point. Why did I touch on all this? Just recently a rather amusing incident happened to me, once again confirming the truth of the proverb.

Rainstorm rained the whole week, thunderstorms rattled. Storm sewage could not cope with the flow of water from heaven, the roads turned into the sea. And here, as a gift for long meal, on Saturday over the horizon, with difficulty breaking through the clouds, the affable sun seemed. Tired of the weather, the townspeople rushed in crowds out of town into tiny garden plots. I was no exception, and like the others, without straightening my back, I worked all day. Decently tired, blissfully stretched out on the lawn near the beds, and remembered that all winter I dreamed of sitting with a fishing rod by the river. And now there was such an opportunity. Having dug up the worms, taking the bait and the cage, in fifteen minutes I made my way through the willow bushes along the long-known path. After the rains, the trail was much wilder, it was difficult to go, but the most unpleasant thing was that the rising water flooded almost all the floodplain. There remained only a narrow stony strip of land along the willow thickets, and a small island. Here on this strip of land and lay a young woman of twenty-five. What can I say, a woman is young and quite beautiful. She lay with her hand against the sun. The “zipper” on the jeans is unbuttoned, the hips are slightly apart, the jeans are lowered. Very erotic in her whiteness, she was teased by the light fabric of narrow panties. The bra is also unbuttoned but covers the high breasts. Near fishing rod. For a long time nailed float to the shore, but he was worried about her least. Not far, about fifty meters away, in shorts, knee-deep in water, with a fishing rod, stood a man, presumably a husband.

- Hello! Well, what's biting? - I could not resist, admiring beauty for a moment.

She, closing her palm from the sun, idly glanced at me, and calmly said.

- I have no idea. This is my ass fisherman. I'm a fisherwoman ...

I was taken aback from such a turn, and silently went further in the direction of the guy. The woman raised herself up, leaning on her elbow. Bra, slipped from the left breast, it did not cause a single drop of embarrassment. Once again looking at me with an appraising glance, she sarcastically, with a sarcasm, asked.

- Are you also a fisherman?

The water was coming, and the biting was excellent. I was standing not far from the guy and was catching the “torments”. The guy was not very lucky, he caught on the course in the wiring. Taking off the next perch, I noticed that the woman sat on the pebbles, folding her legs with a lotus, and looks at us. I really liked her posture, and I forgot about fishing for a while.

- No shit bite! - the guy mumbled annoyingly, and went to his half. Soon they disappeared into the willow thickets.

Left alone, I, with difficulty overcoming the current, moved to an island, fished, but had to go back over the river by swimming, the water arrived.

The next day was less serene. The sky was dragged gray clouds, sometimes rain dripped.I didn’t really want to mess around on the beds in the mud, and again I went to the river. On this day, the water seized the coastal bushes, gloomy waves pounded on the site of yesterday’s islet. The desire to go fishing was so strong that I decided not to give it up, but to try my luck up the river, at the bridge. Getting out of the bushes, I went on the road and wandered along the garden plots. I immediately saw yesterday's stranger. In short shorts, in a warm sweater, what a contrast, squatting, she tore the grass along the fence. Well, what a fucking my tongue, always creates problems for me.

- Hello! - I greeted me as politely as possible. - Well, yesterday caught fish?

She looked at me with a puzzled look, recognized me, smiled charmingly, and, throwing a cursory glance at her house, smiled, said.

“With my ass, can you catch?” Last week, I’m alone, I caught such a perch in the “muzzle” ...

- Just think, in the "muzzle" - I did not immediately understand the meaning of her words. - I also have a “face”, but this is not interesting, here is a fishing pole ...

- You? - she said in surprise. - Is there a "little face"? - in her eyes tanned naughty light.

Stumbling heavy wading boots on road pebbles, I walked forward, digesting what I heard. What a donkey i am !!! Only then did the meaning of her words reach me. "Yes, all women are" B ... "" - I thought, going down to the river. Next weekend I will definitely go fishing but without a fishing rod ...

Yura.

20.06.2002