Women's logic is always a mystery.

In those glorious times, I lived in the equally glorious city of Chelyabinsk. And our winters, even though Chelyabinsk is called the capital of the Southern Urals, are very, very cold.

So much for the "Southern" part... At least the snow piles up at least half a meter, otherwise the ground would freeze completely and the winter crops would too, accordingly. But it's more or less okay. For example, my friend had his own house on the outskirts, and three husky dogs. He kept them for breeding and made decent money from selling the puppies.

So these huskies slept right in the snow in winter; Dima wouldn't let them in the house so it wouldn't all smell like dog. I was shocked when I came to visit him and the huskies jumped out of a snowdrift, cheerful,

affectionate, and not frozen at all. But I digress. Dima had a sister, a lovely brunette named Irochka.

Dima, having extra money, rented an apartment, which he called a "fuck-pad," and it was not far from the institute. So after classes, we could drop by and, accordingly, quickly relieve tension in the sweetest way. All of Dima's friends were delighted. But... The apartment was on Dima's dime, but the booze was on us! I was also very pleased with this arrangement—we'd dash out the gates of our "alma mater" and in five minutes—sex without a break.

There was just one drawback—with Dima around, Inga always refused me, saying she felt awkward in front of her brother. Wonderful female logic: sometimes giving her brother a blowjob or offering him her ass is within the rules, like you have to help your beloved little brother with sperm toxicity, but fucking her boyfriend, that is me, when Dima is in the next room—that's ethically awkward for her! Female logic is a complete trip...

But overall, Irochka was simply delightful, a real sweetheart, wonderful in every way—cute, shapely, affectionate, feminine, and she "got going" from caresses very quickly, which was also a plus. So that's how it happened this time too—I had just caressed her, she was ready, but then hello!—Dimon showed up in person, and of course with Irène-Karen, as we called her, a very accommodating girl in every respect. As Dima joked—"easy to lay her in bed."

So with her brother present, and her brother's girlfriend—who shares the name of my friend—it's a categorical "no!" And what does it matter that Dima's girlfriend shares her name? Truly, to understand a woman... So far, it seems no professor has managed!

Alright, let's go to your place, your brother isn't home, he's here, staying with Irène and fucking. The arousal is wild for both of us, but we have to go—the call of nature, so to speak. More precisely—the call of a sexual nature! We kissed a couple of times in the stairwell, went out to the trolleybus stop—and here's a new topic from the beauty, whispering to me in her loud whisper for the whole stop to hear:

"So how am I supposed to wait for the trolley wet in the frost? Think about it! And how am I supposed to ride home? My panties are soaked through..."

Well, I thought, arguing now is absolutely out of the question (argue with a woman...?), and my dick is already hard as a rock. I need to drag Ira home, push the huskies away so they don't get in the way of entering the house, and quickly get to the bed, or she'll change her mind—woman!!! And the frost, as luck would have it, is just a real bone-chiller, and we have a long ride, and they aren't heating the trolleybuses this winter—saving electricity nationwide! Well, I came up with an idea—I slipped the hem of her coat between her legs and wrapped it like an envelope, like they do for children, also to cover her feminine business (wet!), sat her on my lap, even though the nosy old ladies, such hypocrites, started hissing (and how did they get their children and grandchildren—from a stork?), hugged her with my sheepskin coat and held her tight.

She put her cold hands under my clothes, I endure it, her nose, also cold—she stuck it in my collar and quieted down—warmed up. And I also had excellent mittens made of dog hair, gifted by Dimka—incredibly warm. So I slipped one mitten, just in case, between her legs. That's how we rode, I even got hot.

We burst into the house, pushing the huskies away, I have no time for them now, quickly to bed, I tore off her warm tights and her soaking wet panties and started fucking her with all my might, Irka was already all wet. I fucked for a long time, even got tired, finally came, but she didn't. Suddenly Irochka started pounding me with her small but such strong little fists. She's pounding and crying, I barely calmed her down. And I calmed her down in a proven way—laid her out on the bed again, caressed her wet slit with my tongue until she started moaning sweetly, and fucked her again, now she finally came too. But again she's dissatisfied—what's the matter? And she says out loud:

"And you think it was easy for me to hold your mitten between my legs? It's like your hand! And you were rocking me on the way and pressing with your dick. I came three times on the trolleybus. And here you go into my vagina again, you've fucked me—both you and your mitten! I'd rather you had taken me in the ass, it would have been much better, there!"

So try to understand these women, of all ages, it's impossible to understand them, when they feel good and when they don't. Came three times on the way, and still it's not right. She seemed fine lying on her back, but I should have flipped her onto her tummy and into the ass! No, even if you live a hundred, two hundred years—you will never understand women.

Freud was right—"A woman, having had at least one man, can easily understand all other men. A man can have all women and not understand a single one." I completely agree with him!