A lightweight, weightless foam of a carefree, and therefore selfless, girlish debauchery subsided and disappeared after my nineteenth birthday when my girlfriend Sonya Schneider presented me with a nineteen-inch (by the number of years) dildo of a Japanese firm Vsunwdjo for a joyful and a yo girlfriend. The member was a huge, black, heated. He knew how to say “Katya, I love you,” he pulsed and bent at different frequencies, and shot a meter and a half of white liquid, with which was attached with the instruction manual. The instruction was with pictures and did not leave any doubts about the usefulness of the device. Even a member of the gentle silicone was slightly transparent black foreskin, it could move back and forth, telling the product that the formidable passion of the passion, the home touching harmlessness.

That evening, Sonya and I had a friendly fuck, she fucked me with her tongue in forbidden places, and then for a long time she sucked my toes with satisfaction. Already at night we drew a girl with a big ass on a paper on a sheet of paper and shot her with synthetic sperm as a target. Sperm smelled of vanilla. Then, in the dark, we were naked smoking on the balcony. It started to rain. It was cold. I threw the unfinished cigarette down and watched how it fell, hitting an invisible maple branch below, scattering stunted sparks. Water dripped on top of my head.

We went to bask in the shower. Sonya Schneider rubbed me with a foam washcloth, and I looked at her big round boobs, and suddenly burst into tears. I was sitting in the bathroom, sobbing, and Sonya Schneider was pouring hot water on me and saying the usual senseless words of consolation in such cases: “idiot, what are you, idiot, do not cry! Idiot piece. All is well. Everything is formed. Fool! You're clever, you're beautiful. Everything will be fine". “You do not understand, Sonya,” I said, sobbing and blowing my nose, “you do not understand. Nobody understands me". What exactly no one understands, I myself was unknown, but I was sobbing and still could not stop. I felt sorry for myself, sorry for Sonya, sorry for this rainy summer evening, sorry for everyone.

It was a pity for the money spent on the day-old cafe, where you had to invite girls. And they looked intently, enviously. And gave all the crap. Dad flew away to rest with his young girlfriend (right here, young through two “H”) I’m July, and my father is always on vacation in July, trying to be in even more summer places. Again, a friend. A friend is his hunting trophy, he is proud of her. And maybe something else.

Volodya, I did not invite. You can't just bring your own MCH No. 1 into the raspberry jam of drunken maidens with your own hands. Sensory testing is not our method.

But Bear could not be. Mishka flew to Yakutsk. Gatsky Bear flew to Yakutia! In Yakutia, Karl! No, it is inconceivable. Bear plays in a fucking rock band not a violon ... no, it's impossible to articulate. He plays the cello, goes on tour all the time, then he is in St. Petersburg, then in Almaty, then in E-Burg, and so on without interruption. Big puss Tortured me with stories, how difficult it is to hand over this mandule in the baggage. In his rare arrivals at the base, we are very fucked. Volodya and I have love, and with Mishka we fuck, but very much. And he, as luck would have it, flew away on my birthday. And I know this tour. Imagine these strong yakutok who throw shirts on the stage. And I understand that we have a clear day here, I listen to gossip in the cafe, and there it is already night, and Mishka is fucking some yaks in a suite, reflected in the mirrors. And here I receive a congratulation from him: “Katka, Happy Birthday!” And a photographic cat with a flower. Fuck! He fucks the Yakut there and sends me a KOTIK. My fucking birthday.

My brain splits. I do not know how to respond to such garbage. You can answer: "Dear Misha, I am very glad, thank you!" But I tend to another text version: "You are fucking there, you bastard!"He sends me on vatsapu video of the famous cartoon, where the main character gives his girlfriend on the DR cat. “I give you a cat, because it is the most valuable thing I have after a candy wrapper from chewing gum and Alla Pugacheva. True, the cat shreds in the corners, he has a lot of wool, he has pediculosis and worms, he also tears his claws off the furniture, etc. I urgently forgive Mishka, leave for two minutes from the table and send him a photo of my ass in white cotton shorts. Everything he loves. Panties slightly lowered. Immediately I get hearts in response, and another minute after three videos: on the screen saver of the tablet is a photo of my priests in shorts. The video itself was shot with a smartphone with his left hand. In the background, it means my beautiful ass. And in the front, he unzips his pants, pulls out a fat friend and jerks off on my ass. I'm having fun and happy. I even want to show this thing to Sonya Schneider, but here I understand that something is wrong. The image jumps and flashes, but it is clear that there is a big round mole on the penis.

Size with two rubles. A mole can be clearly seen between a jerking thumb and prick. Do I need to know that there is no mole there. I break everything inside. It is impossible to convey. I think for a long time, I think that I was mistaken with the address, a million stupid things rush through my head. But then it becomes clear that, as was said, somewhere nearby, Mishka fucks his beautiful, broad-faced, powerful Yakut. And he conceded my ass, most likely to keyboard player Serege, and he, having fun with Yakut, Tungus, Chinese and Aleut, is now jerking me off. And the Yakut Mishkina stands with cancer and bares her teeth for the whole thing. And Mishka fucks her. And he can. I went cold inside, the voltage in the network probably fell, the light had faded. In the mouth, they shit those cats. I almost died. Then she persuaded herself not to shake her hand, drank a completely tasteless wine from a glass and went to the waiter Mitya. I agreed with him the day before about the arrangement of this idiotic holiday, so that Mitya-waiter can be considered my old acquaintance. I have a simple but effective rule: so that it is not very disgusting, or just to have something to remember, you need to curry a guy. There are a lot of good people in the world, I believe in it. And why not fuck with a good man? I glued Mitya fast. Right now, I will teach you. It's simple. If the guy was not born in Syktyvkar and did not go to the nursery at the Karaganda coal basin, then almost certainly already at puberty he read the brochure “How to fuck ten girls for five minutes for free and not pick up a clap” Therefore, any normal guy considers himself an expert on the secrets of the female soul and the owner of secret secrets. And if you look at his hair, straighten his back and casually show him the palm of his hand, he reads what was written in the textbook and thinks "this bitch is in love with memory and will give right here." In short. I go to the waiter Mitya, say some words, straighten my hair, look tenderly-gently, bend my back (it is important not to confuse the procedure). Yes, it is still important to speak in the most damn voice with a hoarse, but with a shift to a falsetto. It strongly affects them. The voice should range from a smoky throat of Zaz and coarse Kovacs, to a falsetto LP and lisping Clara Rumyanova.

“Here,” I say, and I spread my arms to the sides, showing open palms, “that's, Mitya, such things. Birthday! - and I look at that place under his burgundy uniform apron, where I must (I know) have to have a dick, - congratulations. Congratulations, - I say and move my eyes towards the toilet.

- Congratulations, - says Mitya.

- Exactly congratulations? - I say.

- Yes.

“Knock four times,” and leave for the ladies' room.

Two minutes later, we fucked with Mitya in an uncomfortable position. Exactly where I just took a photo of priests in shorts. Now cowards are forgotten, and Mitya fucks me awkwardly. It is important for me that he lasted for some time, so I work only for myself: no vaginal muscles, no sudden movements. Only smooth gliding and quietly, without groans, otherwise he will be overexcited and everything - an explosion at the start. Mitya ...