This incredible summer
Memories of youth are like a flash of lightning—it flashes, illuminates, some things are remembered well, others not so much, then darkness again, and then a new flash of that incredible spark discharge, lighting up this corner of memory, and you are once again in the grip of bygone youthful days. So, my childhood friends and I had a great time at a cafe, marking five years after graduating from university, naturally, sprinkling our meeting with noble drinks, and when I came home and lay down in the pleasant languor of mild intoxication, that's when the memories of the last summer of my youth came flooding in.
We lived then in a large settlement of hydroelectric construction workers; my parents worked
on the construction of the Ishim Hydroelectric Power Station—the virgin lands of Northern Kazakhstan desperately needed cheap electricity. Our government, led by Kosygin, implementing reforms, constantly issued its decrees, some very interesting ones; by the time I finished school, one came out as an experiment—graduates awarded gold or silver medals were admitted to universities without entrance exams.For me, this was fantastic—after going to the Institute of National Economy and presenting my documents, I was immediately enrolled in group 112 "A," so I had two summer months at my disposal. And since our hydroelectric station was being built using new technologies, my dad went away for a two-month training course, leaving me free from his lectures in the style of a builder of the new socialist society, moreover, a developed socialist one. And then there was a new decree from the Council of Ministers—now we had two days off, Saturday and Sunday, while weekdays became a bit longer.
Well, if we're relaxing, let's relax properly—my mom asked my dad's driver, Lyonya, an avid fisherman, to take us to some secluded spot. She worked in the planning department, and after work, her eyes were dazzled by crowds of people, documents, and the constant noise and clatter of "Felix" adding machines and typewriters—she longed for silence and even tranquility. Lyonya gladly agreed, since Mom authorized his travel vouchers, and back then there were absolutely no problems with gasoline; drivers sometimes didn't know what to do with it when receiving a new voucher and even poured it on the ground.
And I advised Lyonya—don't pour it on the ground, but into four canisters in your garage, and then sell it to our neighbors; they have "Volgas" and "Moskvichs," and the gasoline is the same, a complete profit—they'll be happy, and you can never have too much extra money. Then you'll have "bachelor's funds"! He was delighted with my advice, surprised at how clever I was, and now I was his best friend. And now he was taking us with great pleasure to these wonderful, completely secluded spots on the Ishim River.
The Ishim is full of such secluded places, many completely uninhabited; we especially liked one great spot, and from then on, we went there on weekends. There's a small lagoon on the river, the water heats up during the day, simply hot, you can wash with soap like in a bathhouse, and swimming is just amazing; further on, there are small reed thickets and, accordingly, wonderful fishing, especially since when leaving, we throw all the leftovers to the fish, feeding them until the next fishing trip.
All around are shrub thickets, we're completely invisible, you could even walk around naked; beyond that, just a blackberry grove, sweet as honey, and lots of rosehip bushes—its decoction in winter is the best medicine. Simply a forest fairy tale; Mom and her friend Aunt Nina were in complete delight. And behind the shrubs are birch groves—windbreak plantings had started to be made, but only after Khrushchev's adventurous antics and the dust storms on the virgin lands. And the air here, filled with the scents of meadow flowers, gentle and pure from the light fresh breeze off the river—you can't get enough of it, especially after the heavy air of Tselinograd. And there's even a little stream nearby—all the conveniences for us!
We pitched a tent together, had a snack after the journey, and Lyonya left to check his "muzzles"—huge woven baskets, woven in such a way that fish and crayfish easily crawled and swam inside, but getting back out was a problem for them. By the way, as I understood, he then spent the night in a village with some young girl, since he constantly quarreled with his wife, who, as I gathered from Mom and Aunt Nina's whispering, was dissatisfied with the size of his member.
Aunt Nina, after a few drinks, always laughed—Lyonya's wife needs not a husband but a stud horse, while she herself had somehow "tried" this perpetually "hungry" for sex Lyonya—everything was fine. And Mom blurted out that she needed to check her friend's words, especially since my dad was constantly either at work until late or on business trips. And both cheeky, tipsy ladies laughed, corrupting me and even arousing me with their shameless talk!
We splashed around in the warm, crystal-clear water; I swam along the shore with my favorite crawl stroke, then dove, pulling out quite a few huge crayfish, immediately thrown into the pot. Though they bite like wild beasts! But they're big and tasty—awesome! Then Aunt Nina made a speech that they needed to learn to swim, look how Seryoga swims and dives, just like a leviathan, while we, Tanyusha, my dear friend, can't swim at all. So let your big boy son teach us, grown-up girls. My mom stretched, thrusting out her great chest, which strained her bra, then looked at me somewhat incomprehensibly:
— Tanya, well, you're something else; he doesn't have to carry us in his arms, but swim in the water, and it'll be easy for him with us there. And secondly, Sergei, let's drop the "aunt" and "mommy," just use names—we're like primitive people now; if Lyonya doesn't come back, we'll all live here like in the movie "One Million Years B.C." And since Lyonya is only coming back the day after tomorrow, you teach me now and call me "Nina."
Mommy lay down to nap in the shade under the awning, and I, following Nina, trembling all over from some strange premonition, got into the water—exactly warm, like fresh milk. And how tenderly thrilling, to the point of trembling hands, and so exciting and sweet, even a languor in the chest and my heart pounding wildly—I could hold the wonderful body of a still-young woman under her belly with one hand on the water's surface, and the other right under her panties, distinctly feeling her large labia. And there was no other way—Nina for some reason would immediately start sinking her round, snub-nosed butt into the water, almost going vertical. Well, if it's necessary—she kept quiet, and I quietly reveled.
And then somehow imperceptibly I slipped my left hand from her stomach under Nina's small breast, which was clearly felt through the thin, wet fabric of her light bra, trying to inconspicuously knead it. That's how I moved Nina back and forth on the water's surface, advising her on how to work her arms; it was so thrillingly sweet, my cock stood rigid in my "family" shorts, there was a slight buzzing in my head, and my eyes even closed—I was still a virgin. And when Nina realized I was tired, she got off my hands and kissed me firmly and sweetly on the lips, thanking me for the lesson. Good thing we were standing neck-deep in water, and my mom was dozing aside—I was a bit ashamed, but how thrilling and incredibly pleasant, indescribable. And when my rigid cock pressed against Nina's belly with all its might, she gasped, then kissed me again.
And then I unexpectedly felt Nina's gentle hand deftly slip into my shorts, and her fingers caressing my cock, petrified with excitement and blood rush. All guys swam in regular shorts back then, like "family" ones; we learned about swim trunks from fashion magazines—our hydro-builders' settlement received wonderful products from Bulgaria, canned red caviar from Moscow, even incredibly tasty Icelandic herring, Belarusian fluffy potatoes, but there were no swim trunks in the stores.
Clearly enjoying kneading my cock, Nina gasped again and whispered in my ear that I urgently needed to be "taken care of," or I'd explode. And she giggled quietly, kissing me again. Yes, I would definitely explode like that! We went ashore, and Nina literally dragged me into the grove, quietly stepping past my dozing mom, who had even put my handkerchief over her face against the ubiquitous flies.
— Wow! What, have you been saving up for a whole year, trying for me? And how tasty yours is, simply a wonder. Is this probably your first time? Everything's clear, my sweet Seryozhenka! Unbelievable, I seduced a virgin! Did you like it or not? You've been in paradise, you say... I promise you even more pleasure, do you agree? And you'll be in paradise again!
Do I agree? Anytime, day or night! Then Nina, licking her lips again and gently kissing me once more, said that next time, "if something works out," I should only finish in her mouth—she has mild gastritis. Our elderly doctor at the district hospital advised her exactly that, and quite seriously—to treat herself with sperm, which would coat her stomach walls, and the result would soon be evident. But how was she to do that? Her husband considers the "over the cheek" option, as they called blowjobs back then, complete depravity and is categorically against it; at work with men—clearly nonsense, they'd definitely gossip, men are chattier than women. If she had a son like me—she would have seduced him long ago and forgotten about gastritis, but she has a daughter, who's now gone for three months to a children's sanatorium in Yevpatoria to treat bronchitis. Good thing the trade union helped with such vouchers, and even free ones.
Then Nina, seeing that my "handsome," as she called it, was "waking up" again, gave me a theoretical lecture, showing how to caress the "seckel," which the doctor called medically the "clitoris," so it would be pleasant for a woman, like kissing breasts and, most importantly—a practical course! After licking my "handsome" with her tongue, she took off her panties and called me to her. Trembling all over and slightly sweating from excitement, I soon, with Nina's help, wonderfully settled between her hospitably spread legs, then moved for a long time and with great pleasure inside her surprisingly tight vagina.
Nina later joked—why are you surprised, nothing good has been between these legs for a long time! As it turned out, her husband is planning to divorce her and leave for a younger woman, so she hasn't had sex in ages. But now she's delighted, and after my long thrusts and kisses to her small, firm breasts, she convulsed strongly in orgasm, tightly clamping me and quietly moaning. Well, as for me finishing—here you go, Sergei Ivanovich, into my sweet mouth. I was in paradise!
When we returned and, after swimming, even with soap in the completely hot water to successfully wash off the sweat and our sins, Mom had already heated up on a small fire the cutlets and potatoes brought from home; we had a great snack, crunching on excellent Bulgarian cucumbers. I had developed a ravenous appetite, and the ladies even had a shot each. After lunch, looking at our satisfied faces, Mommy thoughtfully asked:
— Were you picking blackberries in the grove or fucking like crazy? I thought I heard some moans, and your nipples, Ninon, are about to tear through your bra. And all your underwear is wet, you're showing through everything like on an X-ray. And Seryoga's dick is always hard, but not now. You definitely fucked like crazy there, confess!
— Tatyana, well, you're something else! Who picks such a sweet berry as blackberries without fucking, and it's high time for your big handsome boy to become a man, how long can he remain a virgin? Do you even have a conscience? You should have set the guy on the right path long ago! And don't blush and gasp, it's a completely everyday matter. And here's a basket of blackberries, try it, sweet as honey, by the way we picked it. You'd better go to the river and ask Seryozha to teach you instead of interrogating us, maybe you'll become a champion. And think about Sergei, the guy is suffering, and you don't even stir...
The friends laughed, Mom thoughtfully, and Nina brightly and cheerfully, then Mom went into the bushes, as she said—"to pee," and I quietly asked Nina, when will I become a man, as you said it's time for me to become one, I already... well, you already gave it to me, so what's next? And she, gently kissing me, said cunningly that only when I have a second woman, understand? Then I'll become a man! Later I understood Nina's cunning plan, but now I was set on the possibility that my gorgeous mom might give it to me, look how Nina "came at" her!
I, taking Mom by the hand, stepped into the clean, warm water of the river, but in reality—I stepped into my new life, into my new state, which happened to me precisely today. And what will happen with us tonight?