Christmas chores.

Who said that spermotoxicosis occurs only in young people? They lie. And in more mature age such incidents occur. Here I am fifty-five, and I have been frantic for a week now, like a “young goat”, it seems to be “unwell” ... My “immense” left for my sister, and I was left alone ... No, at another time such problems would not have arisen but on New Year's nose ... And my "widow" cannot get away to visit, and I am not at that age, to roam around the taverns and shoot "washcloths" there. And so it turned out that by the turn of the year I was ready to climb even on the “Sidorov goat”! The main thing: with a hole and "udder" ...

* * *

The twenty-ninth grandson drove me to the question:

- Grandfather, and where are you going to celebrate the holiday?

“Well, where is my dear,” I smiled at the mustache, “at home, of course.”

- And you will not go anywhere?

- Is it to your parents? - I asked.

“Well, yes,” he made innocent eyes.

“Well, no,” I immediately realized, “do you want with your friends to turn my apartment into a den?”

- Well ...

- Not! Not! And no! - I exclaimed, - if you have no place to celebrate a holiday, you are welcome ... But in my presence, and without me ... Your legs will not be here!

He, having broken a little, agreed.

“But bear in mind,” I reminded, “my sister’s grandmother, and no one to cook.” Of course, I can boil the soup or fry the potatoes ... - and added - but this is clearly not the appetizer you rely on ...

- Yes, I know, - he objected, - the girls will come early and cook, bring something with them. And you can go and buy groceries if I write a list and give money?

“Well, I already like it,” I said with a grin, “grandfather is old, he has only a pension ... But now you are a grandfather, buy one and bring home such a burden ...”

“Well, let's go together,” he suggested grudgingly.

- Agreed. Only in the New Year there is nothing like that ... - and I showed with my hands, as if I were hugging a certain figure and pushing my ass in a characteristic form.

* * *

The very next day, we drove with him on my “Patriot” to the shops and markets, packaged in a list prepared for us by fellow grandson. All anything, but the "mad" queues got to the liver. Only about six in the evening we unloaded, and I delivered it home. I drank coffee with my daughter, talked with my son-in-law and got a bunch of instructions on why I should keep an eye on it.

As if she herself did not meet the new year during the student body. And I do not know what happens at such parties without a look ... Although I was not going to watch them, still adults are on the one hand, although on the other they are children!

* * *

Igor did not lie, the thirty-first hour, at about two o'clock, a team of three “serious ones, in the extreme impossibility of Pigalits” appeared to me ... lean as after a concentration camp ... And they started cooking. In the absence of other candidates, I had to help them.

- Fedor Ivanovich - that!

- Fedor Ivanovich - here!

- Where is your salt?

- Where can I get such a bowl?

Well, the usual workflow, in the absence of the hostess.

After six, the rest began to catch up. The guys came up and I was completely freed from the cares of the "daily". Total gathered ten people. Four couples, and another “stunned” together with my grandson without girls. One pair came at almost ten when we were already sitting at the table and proceeded to absorb all that was brought and cooked. Not to say that vodka flowed like a river, but it was present on the table and rather soon empty bottles rattled in the corner of the kitchen, where a place was reserved for a “glass warehouse”.

I enjoyed looking at the reddened and happy faces of my grandson's friends, I actively participated and supported the conversation. I felt good and very soon I felt “young”. But I did not understand their skinny girlfriends.

- Where does it fit? - muttered to himself, - how are they going to give birth, when they themselves “shine through”, and there is nothing to look back from ...

In my presentation, the girl should have quite a few differences from the guys. And these ... Although there was an exception. The last girl who came with the boy looked like a sex bomb against the background of these “snookers”. At least, in her, where it was necessary - it was round and smooth, the ribs did not stick out under the fitting T-shirt ... and it stuck out in the right places. She was dressed in a light-colored blouse and a dark skirt, and not these tight-fitting bodies and legs, in which narrowed jeans and dresses in which she could not bend over. As with such an action, all of their “weird” good climbs out. Her name was Lena.

The holiday was a success, however, it was not without excesses. Lenin's gentleman was jealous of her lonely "stunned" and found nothing better than getting drunk. And when the youth gathered to re-meet the New Year, Moscow time, near the city tree in the central square of the city, he was almost in complete prostration. Everyone began to dress, gathering with themselves food and drink, and Lena, upset, decided to stay with me in order to look after her "fucking" gentleman.

As soon as the released company closed the door, our ward rushed to the toilet - “scare the toilet”. Half an hour later I had to transport his body to the guest room, where I put the body to sleep on the sofa.

* * *

Having coped with the assigned task, he went out into the kitchen. The light was extinguished, and only lanterns on the street, and continuing sparse salutes lit up the room. Lena during this time managed to wash the dishes and stood under the open window, frantically puffing on a cigarette and releasing smoke out the window. I saw that she was already at the limit and was about to burst into tears. Without implying, nothing bad came up and put an arm around her shoulders. Then he carefully but persistently selected this steaming muck and threw it in the window.

“Calm down girl,” I said softly.

She shuddered, turning her face, and wept. Sobbing and choking on words, she clung to her chest and whispered:

- Why is this all happening ?! He got drunk again and now snores there, and I'm alone! - and clung to me, shuddering with sobs.

“Everything is fine,” I began to reassure her, “it will oversleep and will be like“ new. ”

- Yeah ... Wake up ... The whole holiday ruined me ... He promised the same ...

- And if everything is so ... - I said, stroking her head, - then you probably should look for another guy ... You are young, beautiful ... What you will not find worthy?

We stood there for some time while Lena calmed down. Still shivering from her experience, she suddenly shot at me with wet eyes and, stammering, asked:

- And I really beautiful?

- Highly! - without thinking, I gave out, continuing to stroke her hair.

- And do you like me?

- Yes...

She took a deep breath, as if she were about to dive into the water and, blushing, whispered:

“Can you kiss me?”

- As they say, they arrived ... - I thought, but said something out loud, - is it worth it?

- Words, one air shake! - Lena sobbed and again tears flowed down her face.

Taking her face in the palm of my hand, I lifted him up and, looking into tearful eyes, kissed her lips. They were soft, hot and salty with tears, and Lena herself smelled so pleasantly of youth and freshness. When I pulled away from her, she flushed, and hugged me, and my "main sexual sign" just puffed up in my pants, so it sank into my groin. And here she dug into my lips. Realizing that we, it seems, “drove into the wrong steppe,” I tried to stop it, but ... I did not succeed! When she broke away from me, I tried to pull away:

“My God,” flashed through me, “only I lacked problems with a snotty girl.”

But she only pressed herself closer to me and persistently rubbed her own body against the rising knoll! Another attempt to break away ...

- Not! - she clutched at the shirt, not letting go of me, - I want it myself, - she whispered pleadingly.

“I’m old ... And you are the same age as my grandson,” he tried to reason with her, “and I have, after all, a wife ...”

- So what....