Milking com Russian grandmothers. Cool grandmothers give heat! summer Instagram star from Nakhodka

Rita was born in Croatia, but soon moved to Italy, where she began her career as a singer. Soon Rita was invited to the cinema, and she successfully starred in several films, including "Powder", "Russicum, the days of the devil" and "Joan Louis". However, Rita did not like the life of a film actress, and she founded her own production center, which has been successfully operating to this day. For a long time, Rita was married to producer Vittorio Gori, but the marriage broke up, despite two children. Now Rita has two grandchildren, with whom she devotes quite a lot of time, and a young boyfriend. Here is the grandmother!

Lyudmila Akimova, 53 years old

www.mrsuniverseltd.com

In 2014, Lyudmila won the Grandma Universe competition - "The most beautiful grandmother in the Universe", beating dozens of contenders for the crown. Lyudmila has two sons and three grandchildren: 6, 7 and 8 years old! She never resorted to the services of plastic surgeons, but she always devoted a lot of time to sports and diets and now weighs 58 kg with a height of 163 centimeters. Lyudmila admits that being overweight is her main enemy. Indeed, we are not excess weight we don't see...

Carmen Dell'Orefice, 85 years old

Carmen got into the Guinness Book of Records as the podium model with the longest career: she has been working for more than 50 years! The first time the girl took part in a fashion show in 1945, and since then she has managed to represent almost every famous brand (among the most striking works are shooting for Moschino, Lancaster, Rolex, Target, Chanel, Missoni for Lindex, Banana Republic, Elizabeth Arden and gap). Carmen has a daughter Laura and a grandson, but she carefully protects them from the attention of the press.

Yasmina Rossi, 62

yasminarossi.com

Yasmina began her modeling career at the age of 40, which in itself attracted the attention of journalists. Before that, she ... did not work a single day, devoting herself entirely to raising children. When they grew up, Yasmina thought about what to do now, and her friends advised her to go to a modeling agency. This was not particularly successful, but when Marks & Spencer launched an advertising campaign in New York, they needed older models to introduce a new collection. Rossi's finest hour has struck, which, after an incredibly beautiful campaign, has become literally like hot cakes. By the way, at the time of the start of filming, Yasmina was already a grandmother!

Melissa, 62

Glory overtook Melissa unexpectedly: she ran her own small beauty blog under the nickname melissa55 and was not so popular until one of the commentators asked about her age. When it turned out that Melissa was 60, her blog was literally attacked by those who wanted to know how she managed to keep her youth, despite the birth of children and the upbringing of eight (!) grandchildren. Melissa does not hide the fact that her method is not quite standard and excludes the use of moisturizers, but involves the constant use of retinol-containing drugs. Melissa never even turned to beauticians.

Ellen Ector, 64

Ellen is a fitness trainer with five children and four grandchildren. After retiring, Ellen seriously took care of her health, switched to her own nutrition system, began to develop special training schemes, and literally in a matter of months she gained a lot of followers: more than half a million people subscribed to her Instagram! Together with her daughter Lana, she released a DVD called Black Girls Workout Too, the fitness exercises from which became hits on social networks.

Kris Jenner, 62

The head of the Kardashian star family believes that her grandchildren saved her from depression. “It was not easy for me to survive the empty nest syndrome when my children went around the world, and even read everything about them in the tabloids ... With the advent of grandchildren, my life makes sense again.”

What is a grandmother usually associated with? Hot soup, pies and long skirts to the floor? But this is not always the case. There are grandmothers who break these stereotypes ..

There is "Miss World", or "Mrs. World", but did you know that grandmothers also have their own beauty pageant? It's called "Grandma Universe". Every year a competent jury selects the most beautiful grandmother.

In 2014, the winner was 44-year-old Cynthia Ong from Malaysia. Despite being relatively young for the competition, she is already "officially a grandmother". She has four children and one grandson.

In 2013, the winner of the competition was a contestant from Guatemala. Active grandmother and mother. Four children and as many as 5 grandchildren! In addition to her favorite dance classes, and taking care of the house, grandmother devotes a lot of time to work - she has her own driving school.

Another very interesting competition is taking place in Brazil. The sexiest grandmothers gather here every year. They gather such that twenty-year-olds are ready to soap the rope or run to the gym.

Maitre from Brazil is 46 years old, she is the youngest participant and already a grandmother.

Samantha is 51 and she is in no way inferior to her daughters.

Patricia is 54 and one of the "hottest" members.

Grandmothers break stereotypes and say that the age or status of a grandmother is not a problem. A woman can look the way she wants. And if she wants to be the most beautiful woman in a bikini on the beach at 57, there are no obstacles to this.

Gone are the days when grannies sat in front of the TV, baked pies and knitted socks. Modern grandmothers play drums, go in for sports and fight wolves. Such grannies will give odds to anyone!

Grandmother drummer (63 years old)

This was the name of an elderly woman who constantly came to the Coalition Drum store (Wisconsin). Videos with her just flooded the Internet. Sixty-three-year-old Maria Hvisda started playing drums when she was 15 years old, and from the age of 16 she has been performing with various bands. In 1990, she completed her "career" as a musician.

Grandmother-athlete (90 years old)

A 90-year-old Australian great-grandmother is confidently earning the respect of gym goers half her age. Edna Shepherd is a regular customer at the Broadmeadows Leisure Center in Melbourne. She enjoys attending classes in aerobics, taijiquan and even goes to exercise on the simulators.
She attends water gymnastics classes every other day, and in the meantime she goes to a ballet class to dance. She has an amazing fitness schedule. She says that playing sports is as natural for her as knitting socks for her peers - but, unfortunately, she does not have much time for this. When she's not at the gym, she takes separate, special dance classes, and every Wednesday she does a walking marathon with a group of other walkers.
No one can argue with the fact that she is old enough to make the decision to get a tattoo. 101-year-old Mimi Rosenthal left her wand at the entrance to the salon and sat down in a black leather chair. At a height of one and a half meters, her feet did not touch the floor, and for her third tattoo, she wanted to get comfortable. "Let's find something for your feet," said tattoo artist Michelle Gallo-Kohlas, a longtime family friend who was honored with tattooing Rosenthal's arm.

Grandma with tattoos (101 years old)

At the age of 99, Rosenthal got her first tattoo, a tiny blue butterfly the size of a dime. Gallo-Colas remembers how Rosenthal looked at her finished tattoo and said it was too small. When she turned 100, Rosenthal tried again, this time deciding to get a tattoo. bigger size on the other leg. The $1 coin-sized flower was much more to her liking, but she had to lift up her pant leg to show it off. The next time she decided to get a tattoo on her arm.

Grandma tractor (73 years old)

Her name is Wang Xiaobei and she is 73 years old. This granny lives in Jinan City, in the eastern Chinese province of Shandong Province. In 2006, when she was 72, this Chinese granny pulled (with her teeth!) a 4-ton truck loaded with people. The next year, she outdid herself and pulled two trucks with her teeth, total weight in 5 tons.

Highest-ranking judo wrestling coach (99 years old)

Keiko Fukuda was the first female judo wrestling coach to earn a rank of 10 black belt and the honor of being the very first woman to reach that rank in judo. She started practicing judo when her peers were supposed to learn the Japanese tea ceremony and calligraphy.
When Fukuda was 21 years old, Jigoro Kano, the founder of judo, invited her to join the newly formed division of the Kodokan, the first school of judo. Fukuda trained women in judo and later opened his own dojo.
Fukuda died on February 9, 2013 in San Francisco at the age of 99. She taught the art of judo until the last weeks of her life.

Grandma skydiver (93 years old)

The 93-year-old woman deservedly received the title of the oldest female skydiver in the UK. Great-grandmother Pat Oakes won the title from the previous record holder, who was only 60 years old, by jumping from an airplane from a height of 3048 meters.
Pat, originally from Solihull, West Midlands, has been a lifelong thrill seeker. Thirteen years before the parachute jump, she, along with her grandson, participated in a charity rappelling. Her grandson fell on his head from a height of 15 meters and lay in a coma for eight days. But when he fully recovered, they made another rappel.

Granny Yoga Instructor (83 years old)

Yoga instructor Bette Calman may be 83 years old, but she's still capable of making the bridge to bring the benefits of an ancient Indian discipline to as many people as possible. Nimble grandma pulls off incredible stunts while her hairdo and pearl earrings give her a glamorous Greta Garbo look in pink tracksuit. An Australian prodigy who has taught yoga for 40 years is living proof that devotion to yoga will help you stay flexible like rubber.

Graduate Granny (98 years old)

Eighty years ago, Josephine Belasco was forced to drop out of school to care for her sick sister and help support her family. Her only regret in life was that she never finished school. However, in 2006, the grandmother of three grandchildren finally received her high school diploma. She worked as an accountant for 36 years and had a long and happy marriage. She has a son, three grandchildren, her own apartment on the top floor in Nob Hill, and she still drives with her friends to the city to chat over a couple of cocktails.

Dressed in a white hat and dress, holding a rose, like all the other girls, Mrs. Belasco finally graduated from Galileo High School - 80 years later.

Granny who killed the wolf (56 years old)

A granny from Russia told how she killed a wolf with her bare hands and an ax after he attacked a calf. Aishat Maksudova said she was tending her cattle and herd of sheep when a wolf attacked their Novy Biryuzyak village in Dagestan. The 56-year-old woman was able to save the calf, but the wolf pounced on her, closing his jaws around her arm.

Sitting in the hospital with her hand bandaged, Aishat Maksudova said she was "not scared at all" during the wolf's attack. The brave woman explained how she wanted to strangle the wolf, but was forced to use an ax when she failed to open the animal's jaws.

Yuri Kuvaldin

PLEASURE

story

On a June evening in a summer cafe under the crowns of old trees in Izmailovsky Park, Mikhail Ivanovich was congratulated on his seventieth birthday, and his thirteen-year-old grandson, Boris, dedicated his poem to him, which began with the line:

Estimate, grandpa, seventy is not age ...

He composed this and wrote it down on his mobile phone while walking from Partizanskaya to the park. Boris was seated between his mother and grandmother, the wife of the hero of the day, Tamara Vasilievna, a young woman with a magnificent dyed hairdo.
After the first toast, Tamara Vasilievna, looking around the table, called the waiter who was standing at her table and said:
- I want chu trout grilled on coals!
Mom's father, grandmother's husband, grandfather Mikhail Ivanovich looked at her with concern, said only:
- Tamara...
But she immediately blurted out:
- And no talking. Understood? I don't want n-no talk!
- Mommy, I want too, - Boris's mother said to her mother, Boris's grandmother.
Apparently, Tamara Vasilievna belonged to the number of those older women who know how to command with sweet arrogance, if they obediently obey, but who themselves, at the same time, are easily shy.
After several toasts, Tamara Vasilievna, drunk, began to examine Boris with keen interest, until, finally, she smacked him with thick red lipstick on the cheek and breathed out:
- How beautiful you are, Borenka!
She could be understood, since she had not seen her grandson for five years, because she lived with her grandfather in Kyiv. Now they have managed to exchange Kyiv for Moscow, for 9th Parkovaya.
Boris even blushed in surprise, and during the dance, to which his grandmother pulled him out, she pressed him tightly to her large breasts and dared to stroke his cheek with her palm.
She said:
- Well, tell me, tell me how things are going at school, what do you think to do after school ... I really want to listen to you, Borya ... I really want to talk with you, granddaughters ...
- I also want to, grandmother, - said Boris for decency.
- Well, that's good. It's stuffy here, let's get some air... You get up and go out to breathe. I'll be out in five minutes too...
Boris himself wanted to go out for a smoke so that his mother would not see him. The fact is that he started smoking a month ago, and he was strongly drawn to it. Behind the cafe began thickets of bushes and trees. Boris lit a cigarette, turned away and secretly took a few deep puffs, feeling his soul getting even better than from a drunk glass of champagne. In general, Izmailovo Park looked like a dense forest. Soon Tamara Vasilievna appeared.
“What an adult you are,” she said. - Let's take a walk, breathe ...
She took Boris by the arm, and they walked along the path into the thicket. Stepping back on known distance, Tamara Vasilyevna sank down on a wide stump, and turned to Boris, who sat down on a nearby log. Grandmother's light dress was not long and ended at her knees. Boris listened attentively to what Tamara Vasilievna spoke about her studies, about choosing a path, about Kyiv and Moscow, but her knees were in front of him and involuntarily attracted attention. They were very beautiful, not angular, but smoothly passed into the hips, a piece of which was visible from the side. Everything else was hidden from his sight.
Then Tamara Vasilievna started talking about the fact that Borya was already an adult, that he needed to know how to behave with women, and he looked at her full knees with curiosity, probably for the first time thinking about his grandmother as a woman. Indeed, she was attractive, with a fashionable hairstyle, with long eyelashes, with manicure, with rings and bracelets.
Grandmother was short, broad at the hips, and in general was a plump woman with a fairly big breasted. But the figure, despite the fullness, was quite slender with a noticeable waist. Continuing to admire his grandmother's round knees, Boris began, as it were, to crawl from the log onto the grass, leaning on the log with his elbows laid back. Grandmother did not seem to notice this, only slightly spread her legs. Afraid to believe in his luck, Boris timidly lowered his eyes and saw from the inside almost completely her full, smooth hips and a small part of her stomach, which hung down in a rather large fold and lay on her hips. This picture took Boris's breath away, and even what she said about Boris's growing up ceased to interest him at all. Afraid to move, he admired the opened picture, and his imagination painted what was hidden from his eyes. Here Tamara Vasilievna herself spread her legs wider.
Now he could not see her belly, but her legs were fully visible. As she sat with them wide apart, he saw her wide thick thighs spread out over the stump, and, following his gaze further, he saw how they gradually converged together. The farther between the legs, the darker it became, and at the point of their connection it was almost impossible to see anything.
Boris's throat went dry, a blush appeared on his cheeks, and an incomprehensible and very pleasant stir in his pants began, his boy from a small faucet began to turn into something rather large and relatively thick, sticking up.
The sight of Tamara Vasilievna's knees and legs was so seductive, they were so alluring that, forgetting everything, at first Boris gently touched them with one finger and began to move them back and forth along the knee, as if drawing or writing something.
Tamara Vasilievna did not pay any attention to this, and inspired by Boris, he continued his work with a few fingers. Seeing that this was also normal, he put his whole hand on her knee. It turned out to be very pleasant to the touch, tender, soft, with a slightly rough skin and a little cold.
At first, Boris' hand just lay there, but then he began to move it a little, at first by one or two centimeters. Gradually, he stroked more boldly, running his hand all over the knee. Grandmother still did not pay attention to her grandson's occupation, or pretended not to.
Then he completely slid off the log onto the grass, and from this his hand involuntarily slipped from his knee and darted into the space between his thighs. At first, Boris was very frightened, but he did not remove his hand, but simply moved it away from his leg and began to touch the surface of the thigh only a little, with several fingers.
Afraid to look his grandmother in the face and that she would notice from him what was happening to her grandson, Boris listened and was surprised to find that she continued to talk about his future. True, it seemed to him that Tamara Vasilyevna's voice had changed a little, become a little hoarse, as if her throat had gone dry and she was thirsty. Having convinced himself that since his grandmother continues to educate him, then everything is fine, Boris pressed his palm to the entire inner surface of the thigh. This surface turned out to be softer and much warmer than the knee, it was very pleasant to the touch, and I just wanted to stroke it. And, as in the case of the knee, at first cautiously, and then more and more boldly, Boris began to move his palm back and forth. He liked this activity so much that he no longer noticed anything around him. Stroking and feeling a pleasant warmth, Boris gradually moved his hand farther and farther. He longed to touch her hair and move his fingers there. Gradually he succeeded. His hand stumbled first on the lonely hairs, stroking and sorting through which, he gradually got to the thicker ones, in the very upper part of the thigh.
At this time, Boris noticed that something had changed around him. Looking up from his work for a second, he realized that his grandmother was silent, and it was this silence that alerted him.
Without raising his eyes or removing his hand, Boris saw with his peripheral vision that his grandmother had closed her eyes, and on the contrary, her lips were slightly parted, as if she had cut off her speech in mid-sentence. Here, noticing this, Boris froze, even got scared. But the grandmother did not utter a word, but only threw her hands back, on the edges of a wide stump, and leaned on them. And Boris realized that Tamara Vasilievna also wanted him to continue stroking.
This cheered up Boris, gave courage, and he carefully began to stroke her hair, expecting to stumble upon panties, but they were not there.
“It’s very hot,” Grandmother said in a trembling and quiet voice, noticing his surprise.
Boris was sorting through the hairs, his hand was already moving in the very groin, it was even warmer and a little damp there. There was much more hair, his whole hand sank into them. Then Boris noticed that the grandmother was trembling a little, some cramps were running through her legs, and they were a little divorced and brought together. Lowering his hand lower, Boris finally felt what he so wanted to touch. Under his arm was Grandma's lily! It was incredible, even in his dreams Boris could not imagine it. Her thick secret lips were clearly felt, they were very large, swollen and barely fit under his palm. Boris began stroking them more vigorously with his hand, and touching them with his fingers, trying to embrace and examine them.
Tamara Vasilievna's breathing became more frequent, deeper, and it seemed to Boris that he even heard it. And immediately after this, the grandmother began to move herself under his hand, fidgeting with her magnificent ass along the stump. For a moment she stopped, pushing Boris back, slid down onto the grass. Her hairy bosom pressed tightly against Boris's hand and moved in all directions. It suddenly became very wet under his hand, but from this movement they became lighter and gliding, Boris felt her large lips part and immediately his fingers fell inside, into a wet, warm and very tender cave, slid there, which made grandmother scream. Both grandmother and grandson began to move together in time, he with his fingers, and his grandmother with her hips, shaking her huge buttocks.
During all this time they did not say a word to each other, as if they were afraid to frighten away and violate with careless words what was happening between them. But gradually Boris became completely uncomfortable, his hand became numb, and, probably, his grandmother was also tired of sitting in one position. Without saying a word to Boris, she lay on her back, her legs spread wide and bent at the knees, like the letter "M", her dress was approximately at the level of her stomach, exposing all her charms. Boris also rolled over a little, lay down more comfortably, and moved closer. Her feet are in beautiful shoes high heels lay in plain sight in all its glory - slightly hairy calves, knees, thick thighs that were parted and her wet swollen lips were right in front of him. But now Boris's attention was drawn to what was higher, he wanted to see his grandmother naked in its entirety.
Boris put his hand on the very bottom of his stomach. It was very soft to the touch, flexing easily under his hand. He began to stroke it, knead it, gradually move his hands up, lifting up the dress. First he saw her deep navel, then her whole belly. It was large, soft, sluggish, some incomprehensible streaks ran along it, it was quite ugly and not at all like his. But just such a belly - full, adult woman and riveted his gaze, exciting Boris even more.
Having seen enough of him and seeing that his grandmother does not mind and allows all his actions, he jerked up the dress around his neck, finished with the bra and saw her breasts. Boris was struck that she was much smaller than he expected. It seemed to him that it should be big and stick up. After all, this is exactly how she was when her grandmother walked, and her chest swayed as she walked. Her big tits somehow spread all over her body, and blue veins of veins ran through them in thin streams. The nipples were brown, large, shriveled and stuck up. Boris carefully touched one boob, then the other, and they swayed following the movement of his hand. He put his hands on them, began to knead and feel. They turned out to be very soft and lethargic, but, nevertheless, it was very pleasant to caress them. Sometimes his hands bumped into her hard big nipple, further increasing the arousal. Boris was already lying almost next to his grandmother, and she was all naked in front of him. That was incredible!
Then her hand moved, and Boris froze, but the grandmother carefully unzipped his jeans and stuck her hand in there. Boris caught his breath, it seemed that now something would break inside him. Grandmother's fingers gently stroked his testicles and hip, which was very tense and sticking up. Boris experienced incredible pleasure from her movements, the whole world was now focused only on the movements of her hands. Boris even stopped caressing her and just admired her body.
Then the grandmother opened her lips, and said something barely audible, and he guessed rather than heard her words and, bending down, kissed her breasts. At first, carefully, then more and more boldly, he kissed her soft and warm boobs, slightly salty in taste, like a baby enjoying grandmother's breasts, taking her in his mouth and sucking, biting her nipples. At the same time, he convulsively crushed and squeezed her sides with his hands, running his hands over the folds of fat on her thighs and sorting them out.
Tamara Vasilyevna was already moaning louder and louder, desires were growing. Boris put his hands down and began to knead and squeeze her little baby, no longer carefully, but strongly and maybe even rudely. The gates of God were all wet, and Boris's hand literally squelched in this swamp. Then grandmother's hands gently hugged Boris and pressed him to her, then she lifted him up and laid him on top of herself. Boris was very comfortable and well, the grandmother was big, warm and soft. Boris felt her all under him, her body close to him, which now belonged to Boris, her large breasts, stomach, hips, on which his legs lay. It was delicious.
But between his legs he had a real fire and itching, and instinctively he began to move, trying to calm this burning sensation, moving back and forth over the naked body of his grandmother. But instead of relief, the itching only got worse. Grandmother also moved under her grandson, her movements were stronger. She unbuckled the belt on his jeans and pulled them down along with his underpants, then pulled up his shirt to see his belly and chest. Her ass swayed from side to side and his legs finally fell from her hips to between her legs, ben pressed tightly against her lower abdomen. Grandmother still hugged Boris with her arms, but suddenly she began to move his body down, and he already thought that everything, the games were over, but as soon as Yasha fell off her stomach, she stopped moving Boris and just hugged.
Their movements continued, but the grandmother was no longer moving from side to side, but raising her ass, she ran into Boris, while his van rested between her legs, feeling moisture and warmth. Grandmother's groans intensified, and it seemed she was losing control of herself, her cheeks turned pink, her eyes were half closed, her lips sometimes uttered something, but what exactly, Boris could not understand.
Suddenly, after one of the movements towards, Boris realized that he had hit just between her big thick lips. Considering the small size of his teenage Adam and the large, adult Eve of his grandmother, this was not surprising. Boris's sensations intensified, the vanya became very pleased, it was warm, humid, and he wanted this warmth and moisture to always envelop him from all sides. At this time, the grandmother also felt him in herself and for a moment stopped moving. Perhaps she did not want to let him go, or some doubt suddenly seized her. But after a momentary lull, instead of moving back, she lifted her buttocks, and his red-hot phallus completely entered her. It was an indescribable feeling. The grandson's wand was in the grandmother's vase.
Boris lay on her large body, wrapping his arms around it. Grandmother put her hands on his hips, and began to move Boris, now pressing, then slightly moving away from herself, as if showing what he should do, and gradually it came to Boris.
And Boris began to make movements back and forth on his own, rising above his grandmother's body. And at that time she began to move her ass towards him, rotating them from side to side, her pubis pressed tightly against him and rubbed violently and strongly. The grandson flopped on her large and flaccid belly, but he was very soft and pleasant. Tamara Vasilievna moved more and more furiously under him, her body did not remain in place for a second, hugging and stroking her grandson, she moaned loudly. His halyard seemed to fall into some kind of hole, rubbing against the wavy walls of her vagina. Both of them had already forgotten about everything and with force entered into each other. Her full body arched and fell off, forming fat folds, which the grandson squeezed like crazy.
Suddenly, the tension in the phallus grew to a maximum, Boris felt dizzy, he tensed up, and something abruptly came out of him, devastating everything, his strength left him. Delight, extraordinary pleasure, relief he felt. Grandmother, noticing the tension of his ball, twitched furiously, her hips squeezed him very tightly and painfully, she uttered some incredible moan, sound, wheezing, and gradually her movements began to subside. Boris, on the other hand, was simply lying on it, exhausted, and maybe already unconscious from everything that was happening.
After some time, straightening her dress, Tamara Vasilievna said:
You should know that it didn't happen. To never tell anyone...
- Well, sho, - calming down, murmured Boris.
They were silent. A crow called high above them.
Literally a second later, abruptly looking away, the grandmother exclaimed:
- Squirrel!
And then the cell phone rang. Boris, not without respect, asked his grandmother whether to answer - maybe it would be unpleasant for her? Tamara Vasilievna turned to him and looked as if from afar, tightly closing one eye from the light; the other eye remained in shadow, wide open but not at all naive, and so brown that it seemed dark blue.
The cloudless sky was visible in the gaps between the crowns of the motionless venerable birches and lindens.
The fluffy-tailed red creature sat on its hind legs on the path, and made begging movements with its front paws.
Boris asked to hurry up with the answer, and Tamara Vasilievna left the squirrel alone.
- Well, you must! - she exclaimed. - It's him, for sure!?
Boris replied that, in his opinion, whether to speak or not, one hell, he sat on a stump next to Tamara Vasilievena, and hugged her with his left arm. The right one raised the phone to his ear. The sun shone down on the forest. And when Boris brought the phone to his ear, his blond hair was illuminated especially favorably, although perhaps too brightly, so that it seemed red.
- Yes? - Boris said in a sonorous voice into the phone.
Tamara Vasilievna, feeling pleasure in the embrace, followed him. Her wide-open eyes did not reflect any anxiety or thought, only it was clear how big and black they were.
A man's voice was heard in the receiver - lifeless and at the same time strangely assertive, almost obscenely agitated:
- Boris? It's you?
Boris cast a quick glance to the left, at Tamara Vasilievna.
- Who is it? - he asked. - You, grandpa?
- Yes I. Borya, am I distracting you?
- No no. Something happened?
"Really, I'm not bothering you?" Honestly?
“No, no,” said Boris, turning pink.
- That's why I'm calling, Borya: did you happen to see where your grandmother went?
Boris again looked to the left, but this time not at Tamara Vasilievna, but over her head, at a squirrel running along the branches.
“No, grandfather, I didn’t see it,” Boris said, continuing to look at the squirrel. - And where are you?
- As where? I'm in a cafe. The party is in full swing! I thought she was around here somewhere... Maybe she was dancing... I just searched for Tamara...
- I don't know, grandpa...
"So you haven't seen her, have you?"
- No, I didn't see it. You see, grandpa, I had a headache for some reason, and I went out to breathe ... But what? What happened? Grandma lost?
- Oh my God! She sat next to me all the time and suddenly...
“Maybe she just went out to get some air?” Boris asked with a delay, as if thinking aloud.
- I would have returned, she has been gone for twenty minutes.
“So quickly it all happened?!” Boris thought.
“Listen, grandpa, you don’t have to be so nervous,” Boris said calmly, like a psychotherapist. - Where can she go? She will take a walk, freshen up and return ... Now she will come.
- So you haven't seen her, Borya? Mikhail Ivanovich repeated the question importunately.
“Listen, grandpa,” interrupted Boris, taking his hand away from his face, “suddenly my head ached again. God knows what it's from. Will you excuse us if we end now? Let's talk later, okay?
Boris listened for another minute, then turned off the phone and slipped it into his pocket. And Tamara Vasilievna said:
- Borenka, pleasure is everything, everything that is contained in the world, love is implanted in every person by an unrelenting need, desire. Every person pursues pleasure and happiness and eventually finds his own happiness...
Tamara Vasilievna fell silent, looked at him without blinking, with admiration, and parted her mouth, and Boris leaned towards her, put one hand under the hem to the black bush, put the other on the back of her head, pressed her wet lips strongly to himself, and kissed passionately.

(Events unfold in Tula from 1964-1994)

This erotic novel in 36 stories is based on the diaries of Yevgeny Schwartz, who emigrated to Israel in early 1994. In this work, the names, surnames of the characters and specific places of individual historical actions, the time of unfolding events has been changed in some way. And the rest, I assure you, everything is pure and frank, the truth, although very bitter in some places, but ...
In that distant time, the settlement of Tula did not differ much from other similar provincial Russian cities. He was not too religious, more of a patriarchal tradition, with old habits and new emerging young talents. And therefore, all these incredible events could happen in any corner of Russia, with any little boy, and later with a young man, a man. But still, most of these stories happened directly in Tula and not with anyone, namely with Zhenya Schwartz. Many adult men and women probably no, no, and they will remember similar cases from their distant childhood and early youth. There will, of course, be orthodox readers who will pretend to be indignant and say that this has never happened to them at all and, in fact, this cannot be. But I just don't believe them!
Please make yourself comfortable and get to know each other. This little boy's name is Zhenya Schwartz. Five months ago, he turned four years old. He lived with his mother and father in the working-class district of the city of Tula, in small house on Shtykova street, 51, in the yard. Zhenya huddled in his tiny walk-through room and slept on his new small single bed, which he dreamed about for so long, because before that he had slept on a home-made creaky wooden cot with the formidable name "goats" for several years.
***
It was an ordinary early summer morning, and on the calendar the seventh of June 1964, Sunday. Through a sweet dream, Zhenya heard not a loud and not hasty conversation between Baba Manya and his mother.
“You can’t take him with you, he’s already big,” my grandmother said.
- The last time I was just dumbfounded when I saw his eyes. The way he looked at me, I was even ashamed. He goggled his little eyes, clung to my crotch with them and looks, looks.
“Why are you a mother, he’s still just a child, and how can he understand what, it’s even funny,” answered Zhenya’s mother.
“But all the same, you don’t need to take it with you to the women’s bath,” Baba Manya insisted.
“Does he have a father?” she reasoned aloud.
“Yes,” Grandma replied to herself.
- So let Semyon take him with him to the men's bath.
Zhenya had already been there, he completely forgot how he went to the bathhouse last time with his mother and grandmother, but this involuntarily overheard conversation suddenly forced his childhood tenacious memory to return to one spring Sunday morning.
Zhenya stretched sweetly, rolled over on his stomach, and vivid memories swam before his eyes half asleep. In fact, it was so pleasant, pleasant, that I did not want to wake up. Zhenya remembered how he and his mother and grandmother washed in the city bathhouse. How, having quickly undressed him first, mother and grandmother were still undressing, sitting on the dressing room bench, and he ran to the door leading to the bathhouse itself, so that for the last time in front of her to get as much cool air as possible into the lungs and with it to break into the unbearable heat.
Mom and grandmother, taking Zhenya by the hands, the three of them entered the hot and humid room. Thick puffs of steam moved like clouds driven by a strong wind. Cold drops of water falling from the ceiling onto the head and shoulders bit strongly, like angry mosquitoes, filling the room of the common women's bath with some kind of fabulously strange, rather mysterious atmosphere. Almost nothing was visible at all, only barely noticeable in a white pair, the naked bodies of people flickered. Mom and grandmother led Zhenya by the hands to the bath bed and, having seated him, took the iron bowls and, having filled them hot water, were the first to soap themselves with a thick whipped white foam, like vanilla marshmallows. For some reason, they had especially a lot of it in their armpits and lower abdomen. It hung in large pieces, like cotton wool, and reminded Zhenya of the beard of "Father Frost", who came to congratulate him at home in New Year. Curly black hairs occasionally showed through this cotton wool. Even then, Zhenya thought: “That’s great! You probably don’t need to wear panties and it’s so warm, and the wind won’t blow into your armpits when you race around the yard on a bicycle!”.
He even laughed and began to fidget on the couch.
“Sit still,” said mother, and her soapy hand laid siege to Zhenya.
Naked aunts and adult girls walked past them with buckets filled with hot water, and Zhenya saw how their boobies bounced, swayed from side to side when walking, splashing with droplets of water flying from their steamed ends. Zhenya sat on a stone trestle bed and rubbed his arms, legs and chest with a prickly washcloth filled with soap. He deliberately lathered a lot of foam on himself in order to somehow hide himself from two dozen curious eyes of the opposite sex, which, as it seemed to him, did nothing, but only looked at him. Grandmother stood in front of him and, squeezing egg shampoo into her palms, cheerfully commanded:
- Quickly close your eyes, otherwise it will pinch! - And, like a cat, grabbed his head with both hands, rubbing the shampoo with hard fingers.
- Do you open your eyes? - asked the grandmother.
- No, - Zhenya answered.
“Now I’m going to pour some warm water on you from a bowl,” she explained. And the warm, pleasant water rolled heavily but quickly from above onto Zhenya's head. Zhenya half-opened his eyes, and wow... right in front of his nose, gleaming, trembling and slightly moving, a hairy, curly-haired, black, slightly triangular ball, from which a barely noticeable dark path of tiny hairs stretched up his plump tummy to his navel. It was a real grandmother's squeak. She was so shaggy that Zhenya could hardly see the darkening vertical crease running from the bottom of her stomach to her crotch. The hairs in it were especially thick, they were twisted into small pigtails along which soap streams flowed down like grooves, and droplets of water hung at its very ends. And this "grandmother's miracle" ended with a fur comb, similar to a grandmother's big comb, sticking out between her legs. He wrapped himself with light cilia in the left and right groins of slightly tanned, smooth thighs. And the lateral dark hairs of this "miracle" slightly reached the rounded bones of a forty-three-year-old, elastic, wide grandmother's pelvis. Zhenya was numb. He had never seen this before. He didn't know what attracted him so much.
- Well, hairs and hairs, what's wrong with that, - Zhenya thought. But there was something in these hairs, pigtails, folds, comb and eyelashes that made Zhenya want to look and look at them, he wanted to stroke his grandmother's squeak like a black fluffy kitten, and maybe even snuggle up to her and kiss. But not like a squeak, but like a part of the body of his beloved grandmother or like a kitten, but Zhenya did not dare to do this. He was suddenly afraid, and his chest was bubbling.
His stupor was broken by a new flurry warm water out of the gang and Zhenya breathed a sigh of relief:
- Ugh…
- Not hot? - asked the grandmother.
“No…” he stuttered slightly.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked.
“Nothing,” Zhenya answered.
- Enough to look at one point "little one", - said grandmother Manya and turned Zhenya's head away from her with her hand.
- Well, then the granddaughters lie on their tummy, on the couch, now I'll wash your back, - the grandmother informed. Zhenya lay down obediently on his stomach. His face was in front of his mother's back. Mom was sitting in front of him, rubbing her legs with a washcloth and talking to some girl. When lathering her heels and feet, she periodically leaned forward, and Zhenya's gaze opened up a new miracle, a new mystery of the female naked body. At that moment, Zhenya did not perceive the person sitting with his back to him as his mother. In fact, it seemed to him that this was not a mother, but someone else's aunt, and she did not notice him, that Zhenya was absolutely invisible.
- Zhenya thought to himself - I should tell Shura and Sanka about this, they will be jealous!
Grandmother, meanwhile, began to lather his back, ass, legs. Coming closer to the head, Baba Manya carefully rubbed Zhenya's neck and shoulders with a slippery prickly washcloth. Near Zhenya's right cheek, lightly touching it, two grandmother's breasts swayed fleshy. They were large and heavy, beautiful, as it seemed to Zhenya, in shape. At their tips were dark red circles a little smaller than the lid of a shoe polish jar, with multiple small pimples, and in the middle of these circles, two cherry-colored nipples, the size of my mother's thimble, puffed out. These sissy nipples tickled his cheek every now and then, and one clung to right nostril Zhenya's nose, while the boobies swayed, hitting each other, slightly making a smacking wet sound. Droplets of water and fragrant grandmother's sweat gathered on the nipples swollen from the hot bath and fell on Zhenya's lips. He, licking them, licked the taste of baked milk with honey. Zhenya closed his eyes, slightly opening his mouth, and the left nipple slipped over his lips and tongue, leaving a feeling of its elasticity and sweetness. Turning his head and resting his chin on the stone bed, Zhenya began to look at his mother's ass. Only now did he see that it was smooth and round, divided into two identical halves. She spontaneously moved on each of them to the left to the right, back and forth, expelling small soap bubbles from under her.
- Wow, you - Zhenya whispered and smiled. Mom leaned forward once again, and a "mysterious creature" appeared before his children's eyes. This "creature" looked like a large two-folded river shell, such Zhenya found in the flood lakes of the Oka River last summer, when he went with his parents to pick mushrooms near the city of Aleksin.
- Precisely, it was a shell, - he decided, only it was all overgrown with twisted hair, and a small finger stuck out between two large swollen wings.
- Yeah, so my mother's squeak is also growing, like mine, but still quite small, - Zhenya thought.
- Roll over on your back, - said the grandmother, and Zhenya rolled over. His squeak began to brazenly stick up like a young acorn, leaning on two unripe peas, and looked like a funny addition next to the female forms of mom and grandmother. Baba Manya turned her back to Zhenya and, leaning forward, began to wash his feet with a washcloth. Eugene clung to his grandmother's ass with his eyes. She was more of a mother. Her well-fed rolls, like small humps, rose a little to the waist, and the whole ass looked like two down pillows. From the lower part of its halves protruded two flat, shaggy wings, firmly stuck to the damp thighs, between which, shamelessly crescent-shaped, rolled out two hairy bagels of rich color. And everything that used to be covered in front with a fur comb, now opened up for Zhenya in close-up, turned at different angles. Hairy ruddy bagels ended right next to the very hole of the priests, which was slightly tucked around with a dark plush fluff. Zhenya looked at her grandmother's boobies. Squeezing themselves into the circle of Zhenya's legs, together with a washcloth, they dragged along them back and forth, rubbing them to a shine, pleasantly pressing, knocking Zhenya's knees with their nipples-thimbles. Then, with two heavy weights, they dragged themselves along Zhenya's protruding acorn. Zhenya shouted:
- Ticklish! - and laughed.
- Well, then everything else is mine, - said grandmother Manya and went towards the showers.
The hot steam descended so low that the bodies of people were visible only to the waist. And Zhenya looked at the trail of the departing grandmother, admiring how she was walking, wagging her round, steamed ass.
- Mom, let me wash your back! - Zhenya declared cheerfully.
- Wash, - my mother answered and lay down on her stomach. Zhenya took a washcloth. He began to slowly drive along the back, at the same time touching with all his fingers the hot mother's figure. The hand walked along the sides of the body, bending around the protruding balls on half-covered hard boobs, jumped over the halves of the rounded priests, slightly touching the pliable little hairs sticking out guiltily from the inside of the meat buns shifted together. Zhenya liked it very much. He again washed the washcloth in the bowl and once again ran it over her pope, thereby washing off all the foam from the beautiful hairs and saw how they twisted into crazy hair spirals, while experiencing something bashful and proud.
“Thank you,” Mom said, sitting back down. Zhenya looked at the showers. From the thick, swirling steam, legs walked towards him, then the lower half of the grandmother. She carried her body easily, a black cocked hat squeaking with the edges of a double-sided crest captured one and then the other thighs. Still flowing streams of water furrowed her resinous hairy pussy, she moved as she walked, as if alive, quickly approaching Zhenya's face, becoming bigger and bigger and bigger. Touched the nose and gently crashed into the forehead, lips, cheeks!
- Oh! - screamed grandmother.
"You can't see anything in this fog!" she went on.
- Zhenechka, I didn't hurt you?
“No, grandma,” he said affectionately.
- And in his soul he sang and danced. He kissed the "grandmother's miracle."
- Hooray! - Zhenya shouted silently.
*
- Zhenya, Zhenechka, son ... get up, - mother sang softly in her ear.
- It's morning already. Get together with your dad for the bath, otherwise you have become dirty with me, like pigs, - she added.
- Will you and your grandmother wash with us? - Zhenya asked.
- No, son, my grandmother and I will wash separately. And kissing him on the forehead, my mother and grandmother went out the door.
- That's great - Zhenya shouted and got out of bed.
City bath No. 1 was not far from their house, so Zhenya and his father went on foot. They walked along Arsenalnaya, then Komsomolskaya, past Khlebozavod No. 3 and came to the intersection of Maxim Gorky and Oktyabrskaya streets. On a hillock, between dilapidated houses, stood a city bathhouse like a big steamer, letting off white steam.
“Finally, I’ll wash with the peasants,” Zhenya thought, holding his father’s hand, and skipped along, trying to keep up.
They went straight to the second floor of the bathhouse. Father was met by an uncle in a white coat. Dad told him:
- Hi Uncle Vanya!
“Hello,” Uncle Vanya answered dryly. His father gave him 20 kopecks for two, it was two times cheaper than the tickets, and Uncle Vanya escorted them to the shower room.
- Hurrah, - Zhenya shouted, running into a separate shower room. It was clean and comfortable, just him and dad.
Zhenya washed himself in the shower, and out of the corner of his eye examined his father's squeak. It was long and thick, like a big sausage, open and you could see a round head with a hole in the center. Around the "sausage" thick black jungle grew, and on the sides of it dangled, namely, two huge testicles dangled, with sparse hair like springs. Zhenya looked at his squeak and thought:
- I wish she grew as big as my dad. Then I would definitely show it to my mother and grandmother, they would definitely like it.
- E-he-he, - Zhenya said on an exhalation.
Arriving home, mother met them and, smiling, asked Zhenya:
- Have my pink pigs washed themselves?
- Yes! - Zhenya answered.
- Well, then let's drink tea with gingerbread, - she said and went to put the samovar in the kitchen. Zhenya ran after her and, lowering his head, quietly asked: "Mom, why don't you have a squeak, like we have with dad?" Mom looked at him, laughed for a long time, and then answered:
- Long, long time ago, when I was a little girl, I also had a squeak. But one summer, it was very hot, I did not listen to my mother and did not wear panties. So, passing by big dog, bit off my pussy!
“Really?” Zhenya asked in surprise and fright.
"And grandma's too?"
"And at Grandma's," repeated Mother, laughing.
- Mom, I will never walk without panties, - Zhenya assured.
“That's good,” Mom said.
And the four of them drank hot fragrant tea with gingerbread, and Zhenya was very happy that he had such good ones: mom, dad and grandmother.