"All rifts, yes rifts -

Send them to the address!

There is no map to this place, -

Sailing ahead on the outline. "

(Alexander Gorodnitsky)

Chusovaya is one of the picturesque rivers of the Middle Urals, there are many small shallows on it (the local name is overkill), they are easily overcome. There and decided to go three friends - engineers. Actually, the initiator was an avid kayaker Pasha, Sasha had previously been with him in the campaigns, but Arkasha went on a water trip for the first time. Pasha took a canoe - a triple "Salute", a tent, sleeping bags, documents, food and strong drinks were loaded into backpacks. Tourists prefer vodka of strong drinks, and without these same drinks you are not even a tourist, much less a water tourist, and some kind of asshole. Sasha took the guitar, in the evenings of the song to push, suddenly the women tourists will fly like butterflies into the light. Friends arrived by train from Moscow to Ekaterinburg, then by train to Kaurovka station. From the railway station Kaurovka to Chusovoy very close. By evening, the kayak was on the water.

Ahead, as the smallest, sat Arkasha. His duties, in addition to rowing, included pushing the pedals, connected by cables with a steering wheel, to make the turn of the kayak faster. In the center sat Pasha. As the most experienced, keen and high, he had to see the approaching danger - rolls. He was required to give time to the command of the helmsman and to work with the oars if the kayak had been run aground. Sasha was sitting at the back and also paddling. He had to be prepared by Pasha’s command to increase the stroke on the left or the right in order to give the boat the necessary stability.

Ahead one more triple "Salute" loomed. Having reached the kayak, friends saw that there were three pretty women swimming in it. True, it is difficult to assess the figure of the lady when she sits in a kayak case low-set in the water, but the fantasy of friends allowed them to imagine what thighs, tourist girls have, tummies, pop-ups and what they don’t say, but and the girls' faces, breasts, and hands were so clearly visible. The guys slowed down and met with beautiful creatures. The smaller one, who was sitting on the steering wheel, was called Dasha. She was as fragile as her colleague, the helmsman, Arkasha. The woman differed from the man only in a small breast, and the apron above her legs extended to the pedals was perfectly even. And Arkasha was so carried away by the girl that his apron slightly raised himself up (probably from feelings). In addition, he forgot that he needed to work with his feet, adjusting the course of the boat, and the kayak and the men almost crashed into the shore, causing laughter from the ladies and profanity of friends. Dasha looked down and blushed at the look of a man.

“Nice boy, I like it,” she thought.

"Look, as a reddened virgin, come on," flashed through Arkasha's excited mind.

In the center of the “ladies'” canoe sat Masha, well built and well-knit. Pasha immediately laid eyes on her. He, perhaps, would not mind anything else to put on her, he was cramped in sports pants. And then Masha playfully winked at him and slowly licked her lips.

“Tease the kid,” she thought.

He takes it in his mouth, Pasha thought.

Natasha was the last among the girlfriends. She glanced at Sasha and, putting the paddle across the kayak, ran her palms over her breasts, then spread her legs wider and, finally, massaged her lower back and buttocks.

"The male must be interested," thought Natasha.

"In the ass gives, - flashed a crazy thought from Sasha."

The man was thrown into a fever, it even seemed to him that the breeze brought the smell of a female to him.

After such ritual preparations, the men did not begin to lean heavily on the oars, so as not to tear themselves away from the ladies. "Extraction" practically went into the hands itself, well, maybe in the evening it would be necessary to slightly increase the onslaught, and if necessary, go to the boarding.In the evening, after the women arrived at the shore, friends asked if they needed help. Having learned that it is not needed, they swam slightly forward and also landed. They set up a tent, cooked supper, bathed, took on a chest with a gram-book and ate hearty. Sasha took the guitar and sang:

"And somewhere women live in the world,

Friends sit for vodka ...

Own the stones, owns the wind

My holey boat. "

Friends picked up:

"Own the stones, owns the wind

My holey boat. "

Having finished the song, the men sat and meditated, looking at the fire, on the river, on the rocks. Masha and Natasha came up.

- Oh, guys! You have a guitar! How well you sing!

Arkady was startled:

- And Dasha left one?

- She is independent. And you, if you worry, bring her.

- And go.

- And go. And we sing a quartet here.

After a while, Arkasha and Dasha sat by the fire and had a leisurely conversation about life, about computers, about water tourism, and, of course, about love. Because of the river turning, the song of their friends and girlfriends rushed:

“Do not leave me crazy dream!

Beauty turns a man into a slave.

And after death, I cannot find peace.

I will sell my soul to the devil for the night with you! ”

Romantics performed many opuses of domestic maestros. Lyrical songs and a small dose of alcohol (the girls at dinner, too, were teased, but what about!) Did their job. Soon, Dasha’s head leaned on a man’s shoulder, and the mighty arm of a wild and merciless warrior (a dream!) Pulled the lady by the waist to the muscular body of the sovereign (another dream!). Things went swimmingly. At the next campfire, Sasha, putting down the guitar, kissing Natasha's face and neck, reached the chest, which by his works was bare. Pasha, interrupting the singing, put Masha "on the handles" and squeezed, seeking sighs and groans from her. But Masha asked to sing again, they laid the collar, and so Pasha sang her beloved, hooligan:

"There on a mountain covered with poppy,

The artist put the maiden ... in a pose

Painted her like a rose

Then he covered it all ... with varnish. "

Already determined to give the most precious to her chosen one, Dasha suddenly became alert and slowly but surely began to distance herself from Arkasha. And Pasha laughed in the dark like Satan, and continued to outrage over the still weak feeling of two young hearts, and his couplets were accompanied by the friendly laughter of Masha and Natasha:

"At Ataman Kozolupa

There was a huge ... skill,

Seven shotgun

And two raccoon sheepskin coat.

Dasha freed herself from Arkashi’s hands and moved further away.

- Time to sleep. Hey girls, go home!

- Come, come!

At the next fire, they stopped laughing, agreed to go further along the route together and put tents only nearby.

When Arkady returned home, Pasha and Sasha escorted the women to their tents and returned, the fighting began:

- What did you start screaming? Home!? Couldn't you take her mouth with something? Kiss, for example. Anything. I'm already lobbying my chest!

- And I put my on my knees and rested on something divinely soft and gentle!

- I'm still to blame! Ha! I had everything on the ointment! And you about Kozolupa!

- What are we gentle! U-bye-bye!

- Yes, you are quiet! They all will hear! Let's sleep.

The next day, the women were able to somehow holing their kayak on completely innocuous shallows. I had to stop, unload things, pull kayaks to the shore. While drying the boat and preparing the repair kit, Pasha and Masha went to the river and talked peacefully.

- Thank you, Pavel, for staying with us. Generally speaking, we would have done it ourselves. I am an experienced canoeist.

- Yes, I see. But together more fun.

- It's right. What is to thank you?

- What can thank women single travelers who are tired on the road? Only the most expensive that they have.

- In what sense?...