Field, Russian field,
The moon is shining or snow is falling…
What’s the moon like when it’s a white day? And where does the snow come from in the middle of summer? Well, it’s not exactly midsummer, but it’s not winter either. June. But the field is there. A field without end, from edge to edge, to the horizon. And all overgrown with red poppies. Yes, so thick that the greenery is almost invisible. Only carmine flowers. And on this field in obnimochku go wherever they look Pashka with Elka, a neighbor-Tatar Not pure, half-breed, but all the same-Tatar. And why wonder? After the invasion of the Horde, we almost all have at least a drop of Tatar blood. They say the pure blood of the Rus only remained in the North, where the Tatars did not reach. It was just that their horses had nothing to eat. And whether a Tatar, a Mongol without a horse, that a policeman in a bath without a gun. They say the truth: scratch any Russian, Tatar and get out.
For a long time Pashka stared at Elka, for a long time he beat the wedges, but everything went by and by. Not to say that the girl is somehow negatively belonged to the Pasha. Normally. But I didn’t agree to go for a walk with him in any way. We grew up in the same yard, so I didn’t see him as a guy. More like a brother. And who will walk with his brother? No kissing, no cuddling, nothing like that. So we were friends, like pioneers. And then Elka, like a queen, turned her attention to her faithful page and condescended to walk with him. That they were hurting pretty flowers, going to God knows where. They didn’t care. They just walked along, talking, and they felt good together. Somewhere above, a lark was ringing, bugs were scurrying in the grass, and grasshoppers were chirping. And all this cacophony formed into the music of summer. It is a pity not the composer Pashka and in general never a musician. And it was all the bear’s fault, which, apparently, had trampled on Pashka’s ears as a child, and therefore Pashka could hardly distinguish the note “Do” from the note “La”. At least the singing teacher in the lower grades was never able to get something intelligible, musical out of him. But Pashka sang, though without hearing, louder than anyone in the class. Not in the notes, twisting the melody, but carefully brought out the roulades. So they didn’t trust him with a guitar, a piano, or a fucking horn and drum. And if there was a musical ear, I would record this music of the summer. Come on, that music, when such a girl is walking next to you and does not mind that you boldly put your arm around her waist and your hand no, no, yes will slip from the waist to the place where people’s legs grow. By the way, by the way, this is the place that Ali’s legs are the envy of.
They walked, stopping, kissed until they stopped breathing, and then walked again until they caught their breath. And then they kissed again until they were dizzy. And at some point, when they were kissing once again, Pashka was surprised to find that Elina’s trousers had somehow disappeared and his hands felt the velvet skin of Elina’s ass.
Pashka jerked his hand away in fright. Suddenly Elya will be offended. And she pulled away from his lips, asked
“Pash, what are you doing?”
“Ale, please?”
What could be understood without clarification. Elya laughed softly
“You can, Pasha, you can. You can do anything.
My heart leapt up to where the invisible lark was singing its song. His breath caught in his throat, like a crow whose breath had been stolen from its craw. It’s not a piece of cheese, it’s much better, tastier. And Pashka’s hands had already boldly begun to study Elina’s body. And her hands were tugging at the belt of Pashka’s trousers, unzipping and pulling off his clothes. And Pashka was ecstatically kissing Elya. He kissed the lips, the neck, the protruding mounds of breasts under the blouse, the tummy, the mound of Venus. Ale slightly parted her lips and tensed, Pashka clung to the fragrant…Well, how would it be more poetic to call the fact that Pashka kissed passionately, pulling out a slightly musky-smelling delicious moisture. And Elya tugged at Pashka’s hair, stroked it, pressing his head to her crotch and only whispered
— Pasha, Pasha, Pasha…Dear, beloved! Paaaaa!
She tensed, moaned, and pressed Pashka’s head to her. After a while, she let go.
Pashka made a return trip from the lower Elina sponges to the upper ones. Elka whispered with a groan, as if afraid that someone would hear her
Pash! Pasha! I want you!
Really?
Salutes thundered out of the clear sky, fireworks exploded, the Bolshoi Symphony Orchestra burst into music, the ground swayed and the grass parted, taking the lovers into its arms
Faggots! Pidorasy! The creatures are finished! An inky cuttlefish down their throats and up their arses. Pashka saw the cuttlefish. Recently I watched on TV “In the world of animals” and Uncle Kolya Drozdov told about this clever creature. What else would these bastards, worthy descendants of the inquisitors who invented the alarm clock, wish for? Sawalehi! The creatures are finished! Whores! Such a dream to break off. No, cuttlefish is not enough for them.
And Pashka began to invent ways of execution for the inventor of the alarm clock. Revived, the bastard, and again tortured, killed. It could have gone on for a long time, but I had to get up. The already shitty mood has fallen below the city’s sewers. Pashka remembered that today, for the third time, he was going to take a course paper for a grymza of Jewish origin-Sarah Abramovna. That’s another bitch, too – she failed twice. So you will become an anti-Semite and will look for a Jewish trace in any trouble. Although Yuzik, the kid from the next door, does not look like a Jew at all, although the Jew is pure-blooded. And his mother is normal. Yuzka does not celebrate a coward in a fight, a reliable comrade, not a tightwad. And this one…Maybe there is still some gradation between Jews and Jews?
Pashka did not bother with this question. No time. I washed my face, chewed on something I found in the refrigerator, got dressed, and stomped off to the institute. The mood was still there, and Pashka walked as if to hard labor, barely moving his legs. He remembered how his mother’s friend Aunt Tanya had once expressed this mood
— I’m going to work like I’m having an abortion.” I don’t want to do this, but I know what I need to do.
Pashka was not threatened with an abortion, but there was no special desire. The third time goes to this rendezvous. If you don’t pass, you can draw a train with trailers and draw yourself in one of the windows of the car. Bald neometal in the form of a rookie going In! Tu! “where such careless students are accepted – into the ranks of the Workers ‘and Peasants’ Valiant Red Army. There is no money to get out of it and it is not expected. Pashka imagined how this one would mock him, an orphan girl…No, let’s not take it in vain. It’s like remembering the unclean. I mentioned it – it’s right there. But darling, and the porch is not less than their home institution. On the porch, the girls are cheerful and joyful. What do they want? They are not threatened by the SA ranks. Pashka sighed heavily. Not that he was such a deviant. It’s just a shame when someone who has a dad with a paw and money doesn’t think about the service, knowing that in any case they will be punished. And here…Oh, my life is a tin can!
The high double-leaf door of the alma mater boomed loudly, noticeably giving way under the ass of Pashka, who did not have time to slip through. Fuck, there’s this one too. The mood is already worse than ever.
Pashka reached the third floor, knocked on the door of the auditorium, opened the door a crack, and stuck his head inside
“May I?”
And there’s no one to ask. There is no one. Awww! People! Please respond! The only response is an echo. And where did this executor go?
Then someone tapped Pashka lightly on the back. He spun around. Here she is, Sarah Svet Abramovna, in all her glory. Short, dark-haired, with a classic Jewish nose. Pashka chuckled, cleared his throat, and showed politeness
Hello, Sarah Abramovna. I’m here…You gave me an appointment. Well, here it is.
Pashka handed the teacher a folder with a term paper. She stood for a moment, looking intently at Pashka, and chuckled
“Ready?” Are you sure you’re ready? Well done! Just tell you what, Danilov, I don’t have time right now. Sorry, the rector’s calling a meeting. If you don’t mind, come back after five, ” she thought for a moment. “You know, it’s probably better if you come to my house.” I don’t know exactly how I’ll get out, but I’ll definitely be home after seven. Maybe sooner. Do you remember where I live?
Of course I don’t remember. As a freshman, he helped move furniture to a new apartment. A Jew, she is a Jew. Hiring movers toad crushed, but the studios to put a hand on a sweet deal. This is the sweet word freebie. Pashka shook his head in agreement.
Danilov, don’t shake your head like that, it’ll come off. And you’ll still need it. You still have two years to study. Free for now. I’ll wait for you tonight.
Pashka had conscientiously arrived at the appointed time and was now sitting on a bench near the entrance, patiently waiting for the examiner, so be it…Actually, don’t take it in vain, because she still has to take a term paper, and what if the thought is real? Who knows what the metaphysicians have done there, along with all sorts of apologists for new-fangled trends. So if you wish something for a person, then take it and return to you. In figs, in figs. It’s better to sit on the bench, swing your leg. The benefit of the eternal old-timers of the shops, as in other courtyards, was not observed, no one commented on either Pashka himself or his clothes. Nothing at all. And so he knew for sure that he was not yet a drug addict, not an alcoholic, and that there was still a grandmother in the definitions. Usually, if these freelance individuals come across a girl-a prostitute, a drug addict, and in general a fucking finished. The guy is a drug addict and a drunk. Fortunately, spies are not recorded. It is said that in one of the houses, the neighbors collected money and bought their old ladies a ticket to Holland, so that they could see the real drug addicts and prostitutes. They’re lying. Why go anywhere when there are a dime a dozen of them here?
And here is the appearance of Sarah to the people. A wheelbarrow rolled up to the house and a Jewish-looking lady got out. This is the inside of the Pasha something was boiling. There were no special signs of Jewishness in Sarah Abramovna, except for her first name and patronymic. Rather, something closer to the Caucasus was visible. Yes Asuna didn’t come here in the pedigrees to understand, and a paper to pass.
The teacher saw the student patiently waiting for her on the bench, and approached. Pashka politely tore his ass off the bench and said hello.
Good evening, Sarah Abramovna.
See you, Danilov, see you. Hold.
She put the package in Pashka’s hand and went to the entrance. He trailed after her. The smell of perfume and something obviously alcoholic wafted from the porridge in a plume. And not banal beer or vodka. It smelled like expensive wine. Well, who studied for what. The electronic lock meowed as it opened, and the couple entered the entrance. The elevator reached the right floor in a flash. With a clink of keys, the landlady opened the door.
“Come on in, I’ll be right there.” – And hiding behind the door of the bathroom, I got a Package in the kitchen, put it.
Pashka took the bag into the kitchen and put it on the table. I looked around. Well, the teachers live richly. Furniture, appliances. He looked around and went out into the hallway. He stood modestly against the wall, propping it up with his shoulder. Behind the closed doors of the toilet, I heard the sound of running water, something clattering, then fading. The hostess opened the door and went out.
— Why are you standing here like a poor relative?” Come into the room.
And she led the way, showing me where to go.
— This is where I live. Come on in, sit on the couch. So, are you ready for work and defense?
— What defense?” Pashka swallowed hard. “From whom?”
“From me.” I will torture you, and you will fight back. Ready?
Pashka jokingly raised his hand in a pioneer salute
Always ready!
Well done. Show me what you’ve got there.
And Pasha timidly handed the folder with the course book to the teacher who sat down opposite him.
She threw her leg over Pashka’s knee in a masterly gesture, making no attempt to take the folder with the papers. The jacket, which was fastened with a single button, opened. Ept! Does my aunt despise bras? So with her small tits, this is quite tolerable. Pashka, who had awakened his natural reflexes, tried to move away, somehow, without offending the hostess, to remove her foot from his own. The situation is not entirely clear. Pashulya did not look at the age of his bedmates for a long time, gratefully accepting everything that was sent down. But here is the teacher. And how it will look, be it a student activity. And just sitting there, staring stupidly at her tits and thighs, is not an option either. And this infection giggled, pulled Pashka after him, falling on the sofa.
— I promised you torture.” This is just the beginning.
And pressed Pashkin’s head to the crotch, And to be sure, so as not to break out, crossed her legs, capturing her student in their captivity. Pashka, sniffing, realized: Washed, bitch, prepared. I’ll have to fuck you. And having made this decision, I became emboldened. Pushing aside the fabric of the openwork panties, with his lips and chin he parted the short-cropped hair, labia and licked the opened flesh of the pussy.
“Ahhh! Sarah’s body arched, leaning forward to meet the skilled tongue. – More!
Pashka mentally chuckled: How much was licked-licked, starting with the pussies and pussies of relatives, and ending with the pussies of friends. One more, one less-what’s the difference? Especially since Sarina’s pussy didn’t stink, but rather smelled nice. I must have spattered it with something, it’s an old purse. And Pashka moved his tongue, diligently practicing the test. I won’t teach you everything – the men will stare at the students. It turns out that female teachers can also use their position. Paschke even it became ridiculous. It’s a strange thing when you don’t beg, don’t go to a woman, and she almost rapes you herself, not interested in your wishes. And the hotties bulged their pants, asking for freedom.
Sarah groaned, clenched her legs, squeezing Pashka’s head. Relaxed.
Well, here, on the top three, consider it passed. Now for a four? Or is a triple enough?
Pashka was indignant.
What is this troyak?
Sarah got up from the sofa, pulled off her underpants, and ordered Pashka.
“Sit on the floor.”
Sat down. And what’s next? And then the rapist, otherwise you can not call her, crouched over Pashkin’s face.
You have to try for a four. Make more effort. Start taking the test, and I’ll evaluate it.
Well done! Well done! – Holding her skirt up with her hand, she moaned, not forgetting to praise the diligent student. – Suck your clitoris. Ummm! My boy, more!
And Pashka gave more and more. And this profursetka, quickly finishing for the first time, did not hurry to get another orgasm, stretched the pleasure, only commented on the actions of the student and skillfully guided them, suggesting what to pay attention to Pashkin’s affectionate and skillful language. Well, finally! Pity the fate of the Pasha. Sarah gave a short cry as she came. How moist it is. It flowed like a burst pipe. Sarah herself wiped Pashka’s face, commanded
Sit down! And take off your pants!
And where would a peasant go? The tongue is stuck, and the penis is lost. He obeyed. Sarah looked at Pashka’s best friend and partner in carnal pleasures, even touched him.
“Sit down, I’ll do it.” Just direct it.
And again, Pashka is in a passive role. It turns out that he does not fuck, he is fucked.And Sarah Abramovna slowly impaled herself on Pashkin’s stake, paused for a moment to soon move back, made a few quick movements with her backside and again impaled herself slowly. Gourmet, damn it! A lover of sweets. And her pussy is nothing, not sloppy. The member enters tightly, stretching the lips. Pashka, leaning back on the sofa in a semi-sitting position, was perfectly visible as the cock and the pussy were making out, leading a leisurely conversation. But now Sarah moved her ass faster, hurried, and Pashka felt that just about, right now, there would be a vigorous explosion with a plentiful release of the damaging substance. Fortunately, the reserves of that substance have accumulated enough. And as soon as Sarah pressed her pubis to Pashkin, he grabbed her ass, pulled her to him, tightly pressing and exploded.
They caught their breath.
Well, you’ve earned a b.
Pashka growled
I tried, but here…
The teacher interrupted him
You want to do great?
Want.
Get undressed and go to the bathroom. Can you pass it perfectly overnight?
I’ll give it up!
Pashka, holding his falling trousers, trudged into the bath. Hell, he couldn’t have imagined such a test.
In the morning, Sarah Abramovna, pouring Pashka a fragrant, non-soluble burda, coffee, asked
Do you still have tails?
And looks carefully. The night was not in vain. Her lips were swollen from kissing, there were blue circles under her eyes, and she walked with a waddling gait.
There are.
From whom?
From Lyudmila Edgarovna.
Do you want to pass? I’ll arrange it. You’re a hard-working, strong guy. There is an option to pass perfectly. Negotiate?
Yes. How do I know?
She’ll call you.”
Pashka came out of the entrance, took a deep breath. The army train will go without him. What did he forget in that army? He has no relatives or acquaintances there. I took out the test card and made sure that the five had not gone anywhere and it was not a dream. He turned to the windows of Sarah Abramovna. She was standing by the window. He waved at her. She waved back and blew a kiss. Pashka smiled. And there are normal people among the Jews, there are. And Sarah Abramovna is one of them. He sighed again and thought about the upcoming exam. That’s all, no shmar, you need to save up your strength. If Lyudmila is the same spermodavka as this, then you will need a lot of strength. He laughed softly, remembering an old joke about Vasily Ivanovich and sour cream. And that, too, is an option. And happy, satisfied with the night spent and the five received, I went to the transport stop.
