Читать книгу Oh, I love… A series of short stories - Николай Лакутин - Страница 1
Oh, I love the fat ones
ОглавлениеAt one time, my brother and I traveled to different cities in Russia. There were trips of an entertaining nature, there were trips of an archaeological and esoteric plan, and it happened that they went solely for economic mercantile reasons.
I don't remember exactly where it was, in which city. Maybe it was somewhere in Altai, maybe in Omsk, maybe in Chelyabinsk, but I remember for sure that it wasn't in my hometown of Novosibirsk.
It means that we are walking along some central street with my brother, having a nice conversation, eating ice cream, exploring the city, local attractions. The gait is light, the mood is excellent, life is wonderful.
Here I will make a small digression, and tell you a little about myself and my brother. By the way, yes, I have a brother, so there are also two of us, which does not please a certain audience at all. But if I've always been the d… seeker of the d…seeker, then my little brother has somehow always been shot down. Not exactly a fat man, but there was always a belly. And if in childhood we had some more movement. Running, jumping, climbing trees, then entering adulthood, we, like most people, settled at work. Gatherings in offices, sitting in the car in traffic jams and intercity flights. Fast food. All this left its mark and was deposited in my brother's abdomen. Well, as I was a worm, so I remained one.
So here we go. I'm skinny, and my brother is chubby. Almost like Lelik and Bolik. We go to ourselves quietly, peacefully, decorously. We talk. Some people are coming towards us, saying something to themselves among themselves, discussing something. Everything seems to be the same as always. Nothing unusual. But then it happened!
We look – a woman is coming to meet us. Years … well under forty. A sturdy aunt, approximately similar both in appearance and in forms to the one that flaunts on the cover of this article. And this aunt is not just walking – she is smiling. And not just smiling. She smiles somehow… frankly speaking with a scoundrel! There was something in her smile that made me pay attention to her. After all, she smiles, lady, and at the same time looks at us.
Well, yes… smiling, yes smiling. We checked the fly, everything is buttoned up, so everything is fine. And it wasn't there!
We almost caught up with her and even almost passed each other, when suddenly this beautiful woman, for no reason at all, launched her playful little hands straight into my brother's belly. So, you know, sharply and purposefully, so selflessly and selflessly, as if her whole future life depended on it!
Figuratively speaking, even I shuddered.
I do not know what happened to my brother there. I guess he's shitting himself a little, too. The situation, as you understand, was very favorable. And this lady, God grant her health, how let's feel the folds of my brother's stomach. He gropes, frankly "mats" and sentences:
– Oh, I love fat ones!
In general, while we were standing in a frenzy, the woman received her dose of "delicious feelings" and headed happily down the road. When the gift of speech returned to us, my brother finally said:
– No, well, it's interesting. And I like si… ki, for example. But I don't do that, do I? Can I start?
In my opinion, it was, after all, Chelyabinsk.
Dear woman, if you are reading these lines now – know! I don't have a very good opinion about Chelyabinsk because of you. What is most unpleasant is not the fact that it was Chelyabinsk at all, but Chelyabinsk definitely fell in my eyes thanks to you!
Don't do that again, please. Love the fat ones further, but do it… somehow more delicately. Warn me at least before the attack, that, they say, dear, I'm going to crumple your layers now. Well, or something else. But not the way it was done. I still shudder when I remember. It's a good thing we didn't meet any lovers of d.. bloodhounds in this city. Otherwise, I feel like I would have stayed there, I have a weak heart. And you shouldn't have read this article then. However, maybe you wouldn't have lost much, but somehow I wouldn't want to die such an unheroic death. It's not respectable somehow.
Know, woman, we're not going to Chelyabinsk anymore!