At seven o'clock in the evening, at nineteen, if speaking in the language of the servicemen, the whole team, with their lawful halves and not very much, sat in the assembly hall and applauded the Pope in response to congratulations on the holiday. After fifteen the political politician got out on the rostrum and drove about the results of the past year and the tasks for the next year. And such an antimonia threw up. Here's a short report for about an hour. Him that: Mouth opened - at work. Mouth closed - workplace tidied up. And the tongue grind - not toss bags. The people are sitting, yawning, longingly looking at the doors, and with their nose they are pulling delicious smells coming from the dining room. There our cooks have already laid the tables. Why so long, comrade major? Vodka sour, caviar is exhaled. It seems like it ends. Moved to pleasant things: Reads a holiday order. And in the Order who cho, who nicho, who ... Uh ... Shoulder straps with a new star on his shoulder. Well, nice too. All waited. People poured from the assembly hall to the dining room.
The celebration itself is to describe - only time to lose. There was also Santa Claus - Andryukha Rybalko. Real Grandfather It is a bit taller than a couple of meters, weighing under one and a half centners. Spitting flies on the fly knocks. And the voice! When the company begins to sing, we hide the glasses. Explode. And how to drink vodka without glasses? She is liquid. It would be hard, so we would have gnawed her. So they dressed him up, slandered his beard - work, drunia! Snow Maiden Katka Korepanova works. And they found someone to put Andrei in a couple. She is on high heels and in a jump of one and a half meters. That bag, where Andrei put the presents, Katka instead of the apartment will fit. True one-room. Well, yes, with the order do not argue. Said tyatya - cut off. And whoever will be against it, there will be nothing: neither the prize, nor the next rank, nothing at all. In addition to grandfather and granddaughter, there was also a presenter. Jura Serebryakov was instructed. Until the third glass, it is quite sane. The people, at the behest of the leader, filled the glasses (Who is drinking with pogononosets in piles?), Swung his hand and started to eat. Eh, crushed little people, the nation is completely degenerate. Forgot that the Russians after the first do not bite. Their only excuse is that our cooks have surpassed themselves. And people could not choke on saliva, looking at these riches, forks and knives grabbed. No, no one was cut, except for various steaks and other entrecotes. And the poor chickens just broke, like a Tuzik hot water bottle and taken apart on plates. And the salads went somewhere into the misty distance, leaving dirty salad bowls in memory of themselves. And all sorts of pickles scattered like a tsunami which has passed, or a tornado. Although they are more different in the Americas, not with us. Well, then typhoon. These we have. Well, that's not the point.
Refueled, having a snack, even having gone for a smoke break, the people reached for the beautiful. The songs are there, dancing. Grandfather and granddaughter contests are various competitions, give gifts for the victory. Zama was driven on a stool and forced to tell a rhyme. And it was not necessary for him, by infection, to conduct and distribute "gifts" for the revealed violations before the holiday of a drill review. Gad - he is in Africa bastard. Nicho, it's not over yet. Now the people will reach the condition and someone will surely teach him a hryukalnik. Not in the service, so everyone is equal.
I sit at the table, turning my face to the hall in order to contemplate what is happening. I'm interested. I do not particularly favor a vodka myself, so it’s almost a cucumber, and not even salted. But to look at the party of the people, who took it from the bottom of their hearts, is very entertaining. Wham! Through the entire platform, released for dancing, two women are walking towards each other. And obviously between them is planned something else is not very good. With such an expression, revolutionaries marched on the barricades. Or partisans went to battle with the enemy. Oh, some will be! Good, this meeting will not end. Feels my ass, oh, feels.
And how can she not smell if one of those women is my lawful wife, and the second is exactly the same legitimate mistress. They talked to the wound more and more in absentia. Well, they know each other, okay. And then they decided to hold a meeting at the highest level. Yes, bad! Well, how will begin to find out with a purely female temperament who is from xy.
Have converged They froze one opposite the other in a couple of meters. Eyes sparkle, cheeks burn, cams clenched. Straight cowboys from westerns. This is when exciting music sounds, the cowboys are frozen and only their hands tremble over the open holsters with Colts. Instant - and begin to perforate each other. And the people around are busy with their own affairs: Who dances, who eats vodka, who figures out the degree of respect for the interlocutor. Nobody has reached the mordosalatnogo state yet. And my pretty little ones are standing, looking intensely at one another. It is good that the service pistols in the weapon stand. And the only difference between cowboys and these women is that they are dressed differently. Instead of cowboy jeans and plaid shirts for them dresses. On the legs, instead of boots with spurs, shoes with heels. On one dress of chocolate color, on the second green. They stood, looked through the virtual sight, looked at me.
- Well, what, friend? Let's talk? - Wife asks Venuska.
- Let's talk, friend. - The answer was not long in coming.
- Where?
- Not here.
- Maybe to us?
- Come to me. Closer to me
That's for sure. There are a couple of steps to Venkernaya house, but we still have to walk to it. Yes, in a state of some vertigo from drinking. How quickly came to an agreement. Not that what policy. Those meetings, meetings, agreements all sorts, but little sense. And these turned around in sync, but the drill is occasionally engaged, sent to me. And what is left for me? Did not begin to sort out the relationship with the people - and then the bread. I sit, pressing my ass to the chair, waiting. Not long waited for something, not for long. They came up resolutely, with two sides, they lifted their hands under white and pulled them from the table, resolutely stopping sluggish attempts at resistance. And no references to what I want to eat, not prokanali. Satraps, tyrants, mockers. Is it possible to starve a peasant by hunger? Now here are the little pots they bring hot, but I have to go somewhere. And to my share, among other things, is also prepared. Well, who will listen when they are eager to talk and find out the relationship once and for all. So he filed a coat of one and the other, helped to fasten his boots, which shod instead of shoes. And at that time there was complete unity between them. From two sides under the arms they took and brought in the direction of the Venkerniy house. There is nothing to go. We reached silently. Once I just mumbled that I had not eaten, now I will be hungry. The man, who was walking with the dog at that time, cried out in fear, and the dog screamed, yelled and pulled the leash, pulling the man into the courtyards. So with a screech and disappeared somewhere. Oh, man, you have no idea what awaits me. Two furies and harpies came together. One Tatar, the second Khokhlushka. One lioness, the second Taurus. What is that other is not a gift at all and not creme brulee. It only remains to be humble and go to your Calvary, as Christ dragged his cross. And who is to blame? And no one. How is it that you love both one and the other? They say that does not happen. Somehow I heard a song in my youth. Something of the type sang there: If you love two at once, it means that this is not love, but only it seems. And here he is ready to give everything for one and for the second. Maybe it's eastern blood in me says. I, of course, not the son of a Turkish-citizen, but still. In principle, Slavs also had polygamy before the adoption of Christianity. There were not enough muzhiks, so the muzhiks were taken as wives for several women. Yes, men and now not surplus. Okay, let's see what and how it goes. The main thing is not to fall between the two millstones. The main thing promised to feed. To nausea.
The houses of Venus both instantly rushed to the toilet. Take turns, of course. This is the women like this ritual. Just where - immediately to the toilet. And maybe before the start of hostilities free the body from excess moisture and other things. But who knows them. After visiting this place of solitude, where you can sit, think about the eternal, they locked themselves in the hall, putting me out of the door, firmly slamming both doors in front of my nose. Stsuko and frosted glass, what the hell are you going to consider? To keep the conversation going, or perhaps according to tradition, Wenerka took the “Magician” bubble with her. And he, by the way, two liters and a quarter. And for a bottle of candy, fruit, lemon. Deadly hunk. If only bread took zanyuhat. And what should I, Syrom, do, what to expect? He leaned his ear to the door, like a gossip girl next door, trying to hear what the neighbors were saying, listening. I am listening and waiting for the conversation to begin on a raised tone, when the breaking dishes will ring, when the cracking of the furniture will be heard. Silence. Very much suspicious silence. No, they talk, but
painfully peaceful. This simply can not be. Well, I'm smart, experienced, and therefore I went to the kitchen, poured out an eight-liter tap from the tap, there was no more, a pan of cold water, took off my shirt and rolled up my pants. If you have to separate, pour, so as not to get wet yourself. Get involved and get between the two furies - thanks for the offer, but God forbid. While there is time, while my presence is not required, coffee is bungled. Since I didn’t give a damn well, I would at least indulge my agitated body. Yes, with a cigarette, but no one nagging, does not say anything. I want - and smoke. And do not specify. You understand each other there. I sip a hot drink, I listen myself: for now everything is quiet. Well, how long can you wait? You are there to decide: war, so fight. I instantly overturn the pot on you, I will cool. And then I will not wipe the floor. And the cold water is invigorating. The truth has not yet decided where the claws will tear later. Yes, without a shirt, with his pants tucked. If only passersby did not call the fifth brigade. They instantly shirt with long sleeves, which are behind the tie, thrown over the shoulders. The guys have everything with mugs seven by eight. Can not argue with that. And especially violent to backs of beds tie. Has ever visited this institution for service.
Oh, it seemed to wait. The voices got louder. Whether they argue, or something else. What? Fuck! What "drunk I am drunk"? Girls, you find out the relationship. Well, this is some vulgarity - to arrange a showdown with songs. And what's that? Am I to blame? Fuck, and who else is to blame? I, or what? I did not pour you. Themselves, all by yourself. I'll go see what and how.
Quietly, he opened the door, stuck his head, as a tamer sticks it into the lion's mouth. And suddenly havalnik slam shut grab stupidly. And here there is a fear that something weighty and everything will arrive. And there will be to me, such a young one, full kapets, kirdyk and Karachun. Then, maybe, it will soar over the grave. So it makes me feel better. Especially since I don’t really know what awaits me there, where the Lord calls me after death. I, almost a doubler, are clearly not allowed into paradise. Nicked out. Yes, and sins, that dog shit in the spring, as the snow melts. Interestingly, but in hell, where the devils for me cooked a frying pan, on what oil the sinners are fried? Refined? Or also steal, drag, as our stolovskie? Good to his home, or push to the left, and we, the sinners, on every shit fry. Brrr, bad thoughts. It is better to prepare for all kinds of surprises.
And there are no surprises at all. My beloved ones sit on the armchairs, the vodkas swallowed, and the snack was frivolous, that's why they sat down slightly. Why are there slightly. Well motivated. No longer a rival, ally. And my ass feels that this community is no good for me. From the word at all. Faces turned pink, eyes shine, lips reddened, poured, and ask: Well, kiss, animal! I was noticed. Venkerka tried to poke in my direction
- Listen, you ... Ik! Oh, Mom! ... If you have her - pointed your finger at your wife - you will, I’m tbya ... Ik! Fuck! .. line. Here it is. Ik! Thank you!
Following his wife, just pointing at me with the pointing gesture, added
- You! Ik! Fuck! You! ... What did I want? Ik! Oh! ... Aah, pmni. Essi you watch her, I'm telling ... Ik! Here!
Yes, intimidated. It seems it's time for Devon's on the side. Tomorrow they will not get up, judging by the amount of vodka left in the bottle. Home haul little woman in such a state more expensive. And let the weight in it is not particularly, but a drunken man spreads with kissel, not to catch, not hold. On the shoulder to charge? And what will people think? Stole, reptile, maniac, Tickledo, and drags into the woods thick to foolishly cheat, scratch a kunka, outrage over the girl - beauty darling. So you have to lay here, at Venerka. Since we have found a common language at the table, one double bed will be shared. Post one? But who will take them away in the bedrooms? I will lay out the ottoman now, lay down and lay this utter drunk.
And he is glad-happy that my girls, along the way, decided on their attitude to our relationship. Well, oil is oily. Kick, I can not explain in Russian either. Well, yes, I am forgiven, but I'm not quite Russian. While lying, the passport says that it is Russian. Only here, in Russia, we are beating, not beating a passport, but in the face. And, what is there: here, especially in Siberia, fucking with two you will understand who is who. All mixed up. Comrade Stalin arranged such a great migration of peoples that there is still no Russians or Tatars, but there is one community — the great Soviet people, as comrade Leonid Ilyich Brezhnev said. Any Chukhontsev and other chocks do not take into account.
While spreading the bed, my girls went awry. Zamarili in chairs. If Venkerka was still trying to portray something, then little spouse just drove off. Grabbed her, beloved, armpits, doper to the ottoman. Laid on the bed, began to undress. Mooch, shrugs. Well, where are you, where? In the toilet? Let's go.
He pulled off her pantyhose and panties, sat down on a pot, waited while he was peeing, even wiped the pisyun with a piece of paper. In the room section. Quite a section. Naked slid to stenochku. It's time to lay down the second. Lord, and for what is it to me? And the truth, for what? And for that. Do you like to ride - love the sleigh to haul. Few smugglers were with one, now, I feel, there will be twice as many. Well, just rushing from happiness, like Matroskin from his ladybird Murka and calf Gavryusha. It seems to me that now I will not have a wife and mistress. And I will have two wives. It was Nikulin who had “three wives - beauty”. Well, well, I would try to have at least two. And I don’t even have to try, as we agreed, sang and drank.
Second to the toilet drove. I do not want to sleep in a wet bed. Why me? So where am I without them, my beauty. Look how they fell apart, spread over the couch. Well, two stars. One, the wife is legitimate, the oldest, so let's call, blonde. Hair straw-colored with light redhead. Eyes, now closed, gray-blue, large, beautiful. I love to kiss them. Hair is blond, and eyebrows and eyelashes are almost black. Chubby, like Venerka, second wife. Only Venus has eyes with a Tatar cut, but also large, expressive, brown, with a green sheen, especially when angry. Witch. Both chubby, nozzles correct, straight. And the lips are almost the same. Growth is the same. Venus's butt is wider, but Lyuba has more breasts. Luban pubic shaves, and Venus leaves a striped hair. But the legs that one, that the other, do not shave. They have no hair on their feet. I have bare-legged girls. Patties are also almost the same and are located about the same. Not lower, not higher. Both narrow, though giving birth, small. But prefer to have sex in different ways. Lyuba either on top or on the side, in the pose of a spoon. Occasionally on the stomach. Venus is more like a dog pose. Either on all fours, or standing. But in the missionary position the difference in preferences. Luba will simply stretch her legs, slightly bent, and Venus will clasp her legs, or lift them up on her shoulders, bent over into a ball. And both the loud-voiced, do not hide their feelings. And do not care about the neighbors, the children. At all to spit. And the taste? And now I'll try, while they lie side by side. And then you will try one, for example Venus, while you go home, the taste is forgotten. At home you try your wife, and there is no one to compare with. Well, well, move apart legs, kralechki my, I will try you in turn, while you sleep angelic sleep. Generally do not react to anything. That same drunk utter. And how can I have you? Come on, I'll join you. In the meantime, I'll lie down among the NMI, I will deal with it.
And I also kissed pussy, licked while the girls slept. And what struck pussy they lick. And hell knows. Probably because they did not feed. Not given to eat portsuhu at the New Year banquet. That's why they licked their pies, pulled out all the juices from inside. Let them say thank you for not biting. They, drunkards, did not feel anything. At another time, during a kuni, we would have finished several times, and here lie that she was a chock, from which Papa Carlo would force his Buratino. But I licked them like a cat ... In short, they don’t have what the cat has. Pisylyuki shine like my cribs at the drill. From cadet times, the foreman imprisoned wisdom in our empty heads: You can not shine with your mind, but you must shine with your boot. And they rubbed their boots so that at the dances, on the toes of their boots, they looked at the color of the panties of the girls with whom they danced. Reflected better than in the mirror. He tried, he worked, and my girls did not react even to the caress of the clitoris. At the end, with the help of his culinary syringe, he stuffed their cakes with sperm, trying to divide it equally. Lie, sniff, mouths slightly opened. Chubby sponges lured a little bully. Head moved between them. Not to say that offended about the blowjob. Not at all. And she, and the other in response to the kuni caressed mouth member. Well, this is when they are in their right mind. And now in the aftermath. He squeezed in, wedged between two bodies. With two strones gently. From two sides warm. From two sides cover from the grandmother. Well, girls, what do you say in the morning when you wake up? At least I will try to make you friends. A man and you can share. Not war People share a piece of bread. And then what to regret? Surely I will not be able to satisfy my beauty, simpomplek? Okay, it's time to sleep. The morning is wiser than the evening. Sleep, my girls, calmly.