It happened at the very sunset of Perestroika: the year 1989 was ending; I worked in one scientific research institute as an engineer of the 1st category. In those days, before the New Year, the institute employees were often given extra money. The union proposed to voluntarily dress up with Santa Claus and go to congratulate the staff of the institute who have children. For every child embraced by the gift, they paid some ridiculous amount. But if you congratulate many children at once, the amount was no longer symbolic, but quite decent. As a Komsomol member and a person in dire need of currency notes, I made a solemn commitment to congratulate 20 children!

Before sending, volunteers gathered in the office of the proforga. Five Grandfathers Frost, while in civilian clothes, received bags of gifts. In some future Santa Clauses, I was surprised to recognize my colleagues, and one was a colorful Georgian, and I could hardly speak Russian. Proforg immediately expressed his concern that the child might get nervous, impressionable, and Santa Claus with a Georgian accent could cause psychological trauma in a fragile child's soul. In general, Georgian children were also given to me, and I became the proud owner of a list of three souls from tridities. My list was already bigger than any class in middle Soviet school!

When it was my turn to receive a bag with gifts, the pro-shop decided to publicly note me:

- Comrades! Everyone take an example from Peter Sergeevich! He volunteered to congratulate thirty-five children!

- The foremost! Stakhanovets! - there were cheers and even liquid and short applause were heard.

- Cope, one thing, and Peter Sergeyevich? - anxiously asked the proforge.

- Of course! - I assured. I definitely did not want to share money with anyone.

“And yet, I think you better not go alone,” he said.

- Why? - I was worried.

“They pour it in the same place,” one unfamiliar Father Frost patiently explained to me,

- beautiful Russian tradition:

- You will go with the Snow Maiden! - triumphantly announced the pro. A cute girl of seventeen entered the room in a black sweater and short skirt - meet, this is Katya, ours, that is, now your Snow Maiden! Katya is a student, she is in our practice, but she also expressed a desire to participate in holiday greetings!

Katya is a dyed blonde with a thick layer of makeup on her face, she didn’t even deign to look at me, but an envious murmur passed on the line, and it was already nice!

The next frame, I found myself on the snowy street of Gogol in a big blue coat with snowflakes, which was from someone else's shoulder and obviously great to me. I had a heavy bag on my shoulder, from which machines and thorny fingers of dolls dug into my shoulder. I was Santa Claus - a fabulous hero and a bitter drunkard, according to folk legends. Nearby was my Snow Maiden in an elegant short fur coat and hat on the fur. Her face showed contempt for me, mixed with the desire to go home as soon as possible. I laid out the list as a map of the fighting.

- Where to go? - I asked.

“I don’t care, just go quickly, otherwise I’ll get cold,” the girl said, impatient voice. I took a pencil and laid a route from the institute to the house. The last thirty-fifth children were my neighbors.

Who knows what condition I will be in? And so - here he is home!

Contrary to expectations, we were in no hurry to pour. Parents welcomed us brightly, took gifts and solemnly sent off. There were almost no elevators either. Even if they were, they did not work - the usual situation in Soviet homes before the New Year. As we climbed the stairs, I shamelessly stared at my Snow Maiden. From under a short fur coat, beautiful knees in dark pantyhose were visible. From the constant ascents of the stairs, she blushed and unbuttoned her fur coat on her chest. My eyes constantly hit this neckline.

Pouring began closer to the New Year.At first I was delighted and even drank a glass of vodka. However, they didn’t rush to have a snack, and I realized that I wouldn’t last that long. In the twelfth apartment I handed a gift to my grandmother, congratulated her on the New Year and solemnly retired to the hand with the Snow Maiden, accompanied by the sad gaze of the child and the joyful look of the grandmother.

On the sixteenth ladder we met punks. They were sitting right on the stairs and mournfully playing the song \ "A Star Called the Sun \" of the \ "Cinema \" group. Seeing us, they were terribly happy.

- ABOUT! Santa Claus! And what is your cool Snow Maiden!

Several people took the gift bag from me, and two more approached Katya. But here the Snow Maiden showed a rare activity. For a few seconds, she laid down on them so much mat that the informals froze in bewilderment. She snatched my bag from them and left this entrance.

“Wow,” I muttered admiringly.

- But why sharpen with them: I live in a hostel, so I’ve always called everyone: They just let loose: These are still tame, it’s immediately obvious: And you just gape, just like somebody in a dark corner: We have the next floor live Azerbaijanis. So many girls fucked up, and you can’t prove anything: They’ve told you yourself!

- Do you have a boyfriend? - I asked, opening the door to the new entrance.

- Yeah: just from a different faculty: Buy me a pie with tea in a pastry-cafe, and then fuck it all night for this: I'm therefore here with you and sticking out to do a little bit of work:

We opened the door, and we congratulated another baby. His mother came out to meet us in a beautiful Chinese robe, barely covering her gorgeous breasts without a bra. The robe literally cracked on her, so I almost could not speak. Everything was said by her boy, patiently telling me a poem about a herringbone, and some other poems are not about the topic, and at that time I was eating his mother’s eyes. When mamma bent over the bag, I saw everything I dreamed of in secret erotic dreams. I knew right away that I had never seen such a beautiful breast! She was appetizing, the correct form with beautiful pink nipples. Taking advantage of the fact that I had shaggy Santa Claus eyebrows, my indiscreet glance went unnoticed. However, what was done inside of me - only God knows!

A huge whirlwind of unspent sexual energy raged in my heart, not allowing me to think of anything else: I left the apartment like on wadded legs: I needed to sit on a window sill so as not to fall.

- Let's take rest, - I suggested to the Snow Maiden.

- Let's go, - she shrugged her shoulders, - I see you liked the hostess of the house:

“Yes,” I honestly admitted.

“Of course, such buffers,” agreed the Snow Maiden. I looked out the window. It went out into the yard-well, and the windows of the opposite wall were very close to us. In the window, the girl was changing clothes. Bright light illuminated her well. She slowly took off her blouse, unbuttoned her bra, behind which was a small but very appetizing breast. I realized that a little more and can not stand it: Just blow up! Six months of abstinence persistently made themselves felt. I glanced at my Snow Maiden. She smoked.

- Listen, - I said, - if you have such problems with money, I can help you:

- What:? - She asked contemptuously, breathing out a thick stream of smoke.

- I can give you money if you help me:

- How? She asked, skeptically bowing her head. I hesitated. How to call it I did not know.

- For sex or something? She asked, finding the right word herself.

- Well yes:

- Yeah, right now, I will give up everything! Found a fool: Look what a business! Fuck you know where? Say where?

- I know where: - I hurried to stop ...