Putting the girl on the bed, I took off my shirt, slightly lifted her T-shirt, kissed her navels, ran her tongue up.

Nastya arched up, helping me to take off her T-shirt, which in a second flew off somewhere on the windowsill. Her small, but very elastic breasts with huge nipples sticking to excitement, struck me. I bit my right nipple lightly and began to suck on it. He rose from the chest to the neck, kissed her lips, nose, cheeks.

At this time, Nastya unbuckled the belt, on my jeans, I got up, took off his pants and underwear, unzipped her shorts and pulled them down.

She rose on her elbows, then sat down, picked up my penis. With a slight movement, pulled her hair back from her face. Gently touched the member with her lips, sucked him in, began to suck him.

I reached out and gently began to massage her lips, even more exciting this beautiful girl.

Then she simply leaned back, spreading her legs and showing me her house. I hung over her with all my body and tried to enter it. Immediately I did not succeed, so she helped me, tucking the penis in her narrow vagina. For ten minutes I tried very hard, and then I just put it in the knee-elbow position and fell in behind. Half an hour later I finished. And we went to bed.

Waking up, I frantically reached for my watch, the sun brightly illuminating the walls of the room. Nastya was lying on her stomach, covered with a sheet from the waist down to her knees.

On my “Flight” the arrows showed a quarter to twelve.

“I slept well,” I thought, “although even though we went to bed for about two, it’s normal.”

I got up, went to the shower.

When he got out, he climbed into the refrigerator and found almost nothing there except a dozen eggs. Well, well, an excellent and nutritious breakfast - "Student-style" eggs.

Write a recipe for anyone interested:

The dish is prepared on the principle of "porridge from the ax." Open the refrigerator and find: the last tomato, sweet (Bulgarian) pepper, carrots, onions. Smoked and boiled sausage tails, old sausage, the last patty. Cheese. Boiled, fried and (or) mashed potatoes, or rice, or buckwheat (it is better not to mix potatoes with cereals). Greenery. Tomato juice, ketchup, mayonnaise. In general, everything that was lying around in the refrigerator, but has not yet had time to disappear. And of course eggs, at least 3 pieces per person.

We take the largest frying pan, vegetable oil and begin to fry it all in a frying pan (except for cheese, ketchup, mayonnaise, and greens). Beat all the eggs into a separate dish and lightly beat them, add salt and spices.

When everything is fried in a skillet, we pour eggs into it, and bring it to readiness, turn off the fire, sprinkle with grated cheese on top, fill it with greens, pour ketchup and mayonnaise. We cover with a lid and call everyone to the table, for two or three minutes, while the people gather at the table, the cheese will melt, the sauces will flow, and everything will turn out incredibly tasty.

When everything was ready, Acne and Roma fell out of their room. Very rumpled, with a heavy look. In the fridge for them there was a can of cold beer.

And I - put portions on our plates with Nastya, poured juice in glasses and went to her room.

- Good morning, Nastenka.

“Breakfast in bed is so romantic.” - She smiled, and, rising on her elbows, smacked me on the cheek.

- What did you do yesterday? Candles, rose oil.

- Yes, but you understand ... - Suddenly she hesitated.

“Nothing shines on us,” I continued her thought.

- Yes...

¬ - Well, it was and it was. - I said. - We have almost ten years of difference, I divorced six months ago.

- I also have more than six months, there was no one. And yesterday we drank and ...

- Well, that's it, everyone understands. - I finished my juice, took my plate and left the room.

II

31. 12. NN years

I woke up early. The last day of the year foreshadowed to be very eventful.It should have been something to buy for the new year, to congratulate relatives and friends, if not strange, but to distribute debts (and what a good habit in the new year without debts, I don't even take loans for more than 10 months).

They gathered as always at Romka's country house. And in the evening of the thirtieth, he and Vasya went by car there — to heat the stove, warm the house, remove the snow, and put things in order, but I went shopping all day buying food and gifts.

Today, in the morning, Necrof had to return to the city and go to work. Vitaly Vasilyev remained on the farm. And for dinner I had to bring there Romka's wife, Yana and children, and help her with preparing the food, heat the bath, and marinate the kebabs. In general, prepare everything for the beginning of the holiday, which was supposed to coincide with the arrival of Romka and Tanya - the girls of Vitalik.

Nastya remained in the city to look after the apartment, she was going to celebrate with her friends ...

... At twelve twenty-three minutes, the heavy, loaded to the eye of the Skoda Octavia with four passengers left the city on the Rostov highway, half an hour later, she turned off the road onto a country road and, scraping her belly over the snow, slowly crawled towards the dacha village "Tamlyk" ...

- During time, before traffic jams. - I said, Yanke, removing the bag from the trunk.

“Yes, Roma will lose two hours in traffic jams,” she agreed.

- Well, now we have to prepare and wait. - I said, and shouted, - Vitalvas, go out, help.

Footsteps were heard from behind the house, someone squeaked heavily through the snow. The gate opened gently, and “Vasya” appeared in front of us in a hat with earflaps, an old army jacket and felt boots.

- Chito and arrest. - With some Caucasian accent, he asked.

- In, damn - a partisan, - laughed Yana.

- Yeah, he only lacks “Berdanki”. - I stated.

- Good jiving, how to help?

- Bags help pull out. - I said and went to the yard.

For about fifteen minutes we dragged everything into the house.

The children were already playing in the garden, Yana rumbled with dishes in the house. Vitaly and I smoked in the yard.

- How was your trip?

- Normally, the city was still half empty. For about three hours, I think, it will rise tightly.

“So yes,” “Vasya” spat on the snow, “a city with a million inhabitants, lived.

- How are you? - I asked.

- Normally, in the house already plus twenty, in the evening it is possible to heat more. It remains to chop more firewood, to heat the bath, and ... - He thought, - what about the kebab?

- The meat is ready, it remains to chop and dunk.

- Then, everything drove! “He last pulled himself out and, with a deft click, sent the cigarette butt into the old bucket set aside for the urn.

I also smoked and went to the house to make kebabs.

The Nikleviches' house is a relatively new one, built by Romkin’s grandfather in the mid-eighties, the last century. It is a large, two-story, foam-block, lined with brick.

Downstairs there is a small hallway, which in winter is used as a kitchen, because there is a firebox and a stove, and another table, on which there is an electric stove, there is also a refrigerator (prepared in summer on the half-open veranda). Two small bedrooms and a huge hall with four large windows facing the south, west and east.

On the second floor there is a large common room, with a balcony and panoramic windows to the south and west, and three more bedrooms.

In general, everything is great. Only one minus - the second floor is almost not heated, and it is not designed for life there in the winter.

In half an hour the meat was already pickled. “Vasya” threw off a pea jacket and waving a cleaver, turning the four cubes of birch firewood brought in by the autumn into chocks, And the four-year-old Vitya took them in several pieces and put them in a woodpile next to the bath. Yana - hard chopped salads, something cooked. Little Mila slept in a stroller in the hall.

I went out into the street, and went to the bathhouse, put up a ladder, climbed into the little attic behind the brooms. This time only birch and oak. A couple of years ago, Necrofil showed off and steamed with spruce.

He took off three broom ... Read more →