This story happened in my distant youth. How old I was, I will not say, I will only say that I was then still a young beard. My father and I went to visit his relatives in some tmutarakan. We drove for three days on the train, got off at a small station. The chairman of the collective farm in which my father's relatives lived, sent his GAZ-69 with a chauffeur to meet us.

The road went through the forest. The driver Uncle Fedya confidently drove the car through the mud and potholes, trying not to move into a rut full of timber trucks. The motor was buzzing, and suddenly stalled. Uncle Fedya swore, got out of the car, opened the hood.

- Pi * dec! - he summarized. - Timer flew. The cover cracked.

- No spare? - Dad asked.

- If...

- And what shall we do?

It now has mobile phones, you can call, call for help, and then ...

- Didn't you get a lot? - Dad asked.

- Kilometers fifteen.

Twilight was gathering, the night was near.

“That's what,” said Uncle Fedya. “It's a kilometer away from here.” The old woman lives there alone. We spend the night with her. And in the morning I run to the village for help.

We picked up the suitcases, and Uncle Fedya led us through the forest. Soon we came to a clearing, on which stood a small squat hut and several courtyards. Almost completely dark. A light was burning in the window of the hut. Uncle Fedya entered the hall and nodded for us. From the entrance hall, we got into the room, the only one in the hut. A kerosene lamp was hung from the ceiling, an elderly woman and a girl were sitting at the table.

- Healthy, bab Nyur! - blurted out our guide.

- Hello, Fedya. Why are you looking at night?

- The car broke down. Will you spend the night?

- three of you?

- Yeah.

“But where will I put you?” Granddaughter, won, came to the mine to visit. And there are two beds at the mine.

- Nothing. Nikolay and I (that was my father’s name) in the hayloft will lie down. Anyway, I'll go to the village with the dawn. And so lad pristroy somehow.

- Okay. Sit down at the table, now we will have dinner.

Baba Nyura put on a table a cast iron pot with a potato in her uniform, a sour cream bowl and a jug of milk. Dad took out a half-liter and a can of canned food from his baggage. The adults drank, and the girl was also poured, while she secretly showed me the tongue. Actually, at first, in the dim light of a kerosene lamp, I took her for a girl, and looking closer, I realized that this was already a girl of about nineteen. The girl's name was Zina. Plump, red-haired, with freckles on her face and with two pigtails. A narrow sundress loomed her small breasts, tight waist and very appetizing ass. Knees knocked to the bruise stuck out from under the hem.

After dinner, began to pack. Dad and Uncle Fedya went to the barn, Baba Nyura began to make the bed.

“This is where the wallpaper lies,” Baba Nyura said, having finished laying on a large metal bed.

- What? - Zina was indignant. - I sleep with him?

- Well, not on the floor as I put it. Blowing, there are some cracks! The mouse will crawl through. Nothing, jack down, sleep a night. And then he likes, go to bed with me. The current at the mine bed is narrow, and the ent Won - loft. Your grandfather and I slept here with my grandfather.

“Okay,” Zina agreed reluctantly.

She spread her braids and shook her head, straightening her hair. Baba Nyura extinguished the lamp, lay down on her bed behind the stove, pulled the curtain back.

- Turn around! - ordered Zina.

- So dark.

- Never mind!

I turned away. By the rustling of the fabric, I guessed that she took off the sundress and put on a nightgown. The bed creaked.

- Go. With the edge lie down.

I took off my shirt and pants, stayed in a T-shirt and shorts. To the touch I got to the bed and lay down with a jack, that is, head to her heels. The blanket was one. Zina almost completely pulled him over, had to win a piece from her. The eyes got used to the darkness, and the room became lighter - the moon rose. I was lying quietly, Zina did not move either. Behind the curtain I heard the snore of the woman Nyura. I have never slept with a girl. And in general, I never touched them and did not touch them. The proximity of the girl agitated and excited me.Zina lay on her back. Interesting, sleeping or not? I turned on my side to face her, reached out and touched her knee.

“Quiet,” she whispered. - There is a sore.

I removed my hand, and Zina turned to the wall, tucked her knees, while her head slipped a little from the pillow. Her hair tickled my legs, and her booty rested against my stomach. It gave me courage. I put my hand on her thigh. What if...

I began to slowly lift up the hem of her nightgown, exposing my leg. Soon I touched the bare skin of her thigh with my hand. Zina did not protest. For ten minutes I stroked her ass, while my cock stiffened, sticking out the fabric of underpants, and soon his head buried her back in Zinin. Having felt this, Zina pressed her back to me more tightly, and, emboldened, I put my hand between her legs. Zina "caught" my hand with her legs, squeezing them tightly and not giving me the opportunity to move my hand. So we lay for a long time, I even thought that she was falling asleep, and the excitement began to pass.

Obviously feeling this, Zina turned on her back and slid even lower, pushing her legs between the bars of the headboard, while her nightie rode up almost to her navel. The moon shone quite brightly out the window. The blanket came off us and lay on the floor. I raised myself up, holding myself on my elbow, and moved closer to the place beckoning me, stretching my knees and pushing them against the opposite headboard.

In the gloomy light, I looked at the pubis naked Zinin, covered with sparse hair, and the slit tightly closed labia. All this I saw for the first time. I looked, but did not dare touch yet. In the meantime, I felt Zina move my panties to the side and, through the bottom hole, removed my excited member. I was embarrassed and even ashamed, I wanted to remove the penis back, but Zina already firmly held him in her fist. She began to cheat him, quite skillfully, to a tee, as I do this myself, doing onanism.

Then I, emboldened, put her palm on her pubis. Zina spread her knees apart, revealing all her secrets and letting my fingers get inside. I felt the delicate skin of the labia minora and the moisture oozing from there. All my attention was focused on the Zina's charms, and suddenly I felt that the head of my penis was no longer squeezed by fingers, but something soft, warm and moist. Looking there, I saw that my dick was almost entirely in Zina’s mouth. And again, awkwardness and shame almost made him shrink, but pleasant bliss took over - he strained to the utmost.

Zina sucked him like a lollipop, pressing her tongue to the palate, and I, giving myself to the sensations that were overwhelming me, caressed her pussy with my fingers, and something pushed me to do to her the very thing that she was doing to me now. I removed my hand and brought my face close to the excited and thirsty vulva bleeding. As if sensing my intentions, Zina spread her knees even wider, lifting one leg and the other stretched. I touched my tongue to the top corner of the open slot. My nose caught the exciting smell of her genitals. Spicy smell of sea grass and poplar buds.

I held the tongue below, deepening it between the labia in the gelatinous-soft tenderness of the hot bosom. Zina gave way to my tongue, not letting my cock out of my mouth. I ran my tongue back to the upper corner of the crack and, judging because Zina started, she decided that caressing her in this place gave her the greatest pleasure. I made the language of circular movements around a solid tubercle. Zina shuddered from time to time and more furiously sucked my dick. I felt her fingers groping for my balls. I pressed my lips tightly against Zina's sex lips and tried to suck everything inside between them.

In was ready to finish, but Zina interrupted my sweet flour. She rose and lay her head to my head, legs spread wide.

- Come on, - she pulled me over.

I settled between her legs and a hand sent a member of the expiring juices vagina.

“So here it is! - joyful awareness flashed through my head. “Am I really fucking ?!”

Zina often breathed and convulsively twitched. From my dick into her seed began to break ...

When I woke up, it was already light. Zina was not around. Baba Nyura was heating the stove.

- Awoke? - whether she asked, or she stated in a somewhat grumbling tone.

I wonder if she guessed what we did with Zina? I've got ashamed. I blushed and, trying not to look at the woman Nyura, quickly dressed and went out into the yard.

Chickens were running around the yard. In one of the sheds the door was ajar. From there came the ringing sounds of milk pouring into the hearth. There, on a low stool, sat Zina, with her back to the door, and milked the cow. Her hands were pulling out the udder, the milk streamed in the hearth. For some reason I remembered how these hands caressed my dick. Perhaps, from milking a cow she has such a "professional" skill in dealing with a member?

I walked past, trying not to notice Zina. Why was I ashamed of her? I do not know.

Dad was washing his water barrel. Uncle Fedya went to the village before dawn. We had breakfast cottage cheese with fresh milk. All this time I hid my eyes and was silent. My father was even afraid that I was sick.

“The young ones have a little pain - to climb to someone,” grumbled Baba Nyura.

I blushed even more, and Zina silently collected the dishes and brought out the yard to wash.

"And the fig, these hints?" - I thought. - she put us together. "

I heard the noise of the engine. Uncle Fedya arrived on the truck. We said goodbye to Baba Nyura, and Zina had already gone to the meadow to feed the cow.

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