He looked at him and a nostalgic smile never left his face.
Here he naked crawls in the crib. Here he is in the garden with his favorite teddy bear. Here in Koktebel with parents - the first color photo in the album, by the way! Here is a common first class photo. But in the village with his maternal grandfather, in the Donetsk region, among a large and friendly family. In the summer all his eight grandchildren came to the village to see his grandfather. Two, the youngest, were held by parents, and the other six were in the front row. This was the last photo in which the grandfather was still alive. In the very center - Ilyusha himself, a very tall guy, with black shaggy whirlwinds on his head and already making their antennae. And next to him, in a short blue dress, Oksana, his cousin, is two months younger than him. He perfectly remembered her blond curls below her shoulders, her big green eyes, freckles, beautiful scarlet lips, fast slender legs, and a full, ringing laugh.
And he remembered how four years later, on that memorable summer of 1991, under the similar dress, the small but juicy and elastic breasts of an 18-year-old girl were hidden, which he often crumpled and licked in the hayloft. They loved to kiss, hug, caress, whisper tender words about love for a long time and passionately. But as soon as he put his hands a little lower, for the gum of her simple HB-shny panties, like Ksyusha cleverly, like a lizard, escaped from his arms, and ran away with a laugh. Poor Ilya then washed his youthful member down to bloody blisters, recalling those moments. Other village girls stare at the stately city guy, but they were of little interest to him. He, of course, also drove them to the hayloft, especially after several piles of moonshine. But even quickly moving strong hips over another village simpleton, who opened his moderately slender legs or white puffy buttocks before him, he closed his eyes and presented his forbidden love in their place Oksana. They had not seen for more than 25 years, since the collapse of the USSR, but Ilya still remembered the smell of her cheap Soviet perfume mixed with hay and then.
In the 90s, Ilya had a much harder life than his Ukrainian relatives, who settled well in the Donbas. They lived, or rather survived, they with a single mother almost half starving, barely making ends meet, while Oksanina's relatives lived in a large brick house, without needing anything. Oksana soon jumped out to marry a local businessman, gave him a bunch of kids and lived happily ever after.
Ilya, immediately after serving in the army, had to engage in shuttle activities together with her mother, moving to Turkey, then to Poland and back, in order to ensure a decent life. Gradually, he opened his own clothing store, then expanded the business, successfully married the deputy's ugly daughter, moved from the Samara region to Moscow and now his business flourished. He owned a network of shopping centers throughout Russia and even in Europe, and his business was only going uphill.
His wife recently died of cancer, they did not have children, so Illya was now a bachelor and an enviable bridegroom. Moreover, he did not run himself, and remained in good physical shape. Thank you youthful interest in cycling and swimming. He did not even start smoking, but drank very moderately, therefore he looked much younger.
But Oksana did not go so smoothly.
It all started four years ago, since the proclamation of an independent DNR. specifically for sexytal.com Oksana’s husband went to the front as a volunteer, died, and was followed by her three older sons, still serving somewhere in the vast unrecognized state. All would be nothing, but their large two-story house badly damaged the shell, either enemy, or their own, but still Oksana did not have the means to repair. It is good that they were not at home with the younger daughter at the time of the explosion.
And now she had to flee with her daughter to Russia, to her cousin Ilya.
Ilya, with wild excitement, personally met them at the airport with a bouquet of flowers. They appeared in the waiting room, and Illya was stunned. His Oksana over the years has not aged at all, remaining still as flourishing and bright as then, at the time of their last meeting. Ilya did not immediately realize that it was not her, but her daughter Polina, whom he knew about, but he had never seen. Oksana herself became stout, flabby, turning into an ugly old cow, a little resembling itself 27 years ago. All feelings for her in Ilya immediately melted away, as if the fog and abruptly switched to her young copy from the distant past, to Polina.
He helped them with housing, having presented a decent apartment not far from the center of Moscow, quickly made them Russian citizenship. Oksana, who never worked anywhere, he got a job in one of his hypermarkets for a dustless position, and Polina - in a good school, and also provided a driver to take to school and back, and just around Moscow.
His thoughts were interrupted by a selector call.
- Yes, Nastya, who is there?
“Your niece is Polina.”
- Well, let him come in.
Ilya Romanovich rubbed his sweaty hands with excitement and smiled wickedly. He was waiting for an interesting conversation!
***
Polina entered her uncle's office, said hello and modestly sat on a high leather chair. She was still embarrassed by Uncle Ilya, as he himself asked him to call him, although more than a month had passed since their move to Russia. She looked at a tall, toned, elegant man of 38 years of age. If it were not for the light gray hair on the temples, then he would have looked even younger. And something in his eyes told Polina that we should stay away from him. But she was just fascinated by such an elegant, hospitable and generous relative, so she drove those thoughts away from herself.
My uncle spoke in his clear, confident voice, the voice of a big boss:
- Well, Fields, how do you like Moscow? - but without letting her even open her mouth, he continued, - I know, I know, after your village - just space. We have already discussed this a hundred times.
- Yes, yes, thank you for everything ...
- Honey, I asked to call me to “you”, we are relatives, after all!
- Oh, sorry, I forgot ... That is, ugh, sorry, Uncle Ilya, I will not.
- That's better. Do you know why I called you here?
- What for?
- How is it, why? Today is your birthday, 18 years old and I just have to give my beloved niece an unforgettable gift!
Uncle Ilya took a small red box from the table, opened it and took out a gold ring, all studded with large diamonds. He handed the box to Polina and whispered in her ear:
“As a sign of our friendship,” he mysteriously smiled directly into her face, “friendship and close cooperation.”
- Thank you, Uncle Ilya, - Polina put a jewel on her finger, - great thanks! - and she quickly smacked her uncle in the cheek.
She saw a little cramp run across his face. Uncle blushed, coughed, sat down at the table. He poured water from the carafe and drank in one gulp.
- Dear Fields, I have a business proposal for you. Do you really like my present?
- Of course yes!
- And you are really delighted with Moscow and your new rich life, and you do not want to live the same life as before?
- I do not want. I feel much better here.
- That's great! - Ilya Romanovich clapped in the palm of his hand, - I will not pull the cat by the balls anymore and I will say straight out: I need an obedient sex toy, "he made a theatrical pause," in your face, of course.
- I'm sorry, what?!
- Sexy toy for fun Uncle Ilya. And you will ride like cheese in butter. Or do you want to live with your mother in a removable Khrushchev on the outskirts, to study, and at the same time to earn money?
- I have to think, Uncle Ilya.
- Think about it. But not very long.
Polina remembered her happy, not poor childhood, which later turned into a half-starved nightmare. She remembered how my mother taught to take care of her virginity for a rich prince, citing as an example herself. So here he is, a rich prince, right in front of her. And also very attractive! Just think, cousin, it's almost not even relatives!
- You know what, - Polina hesitated a little, - I, I agree ...
- Great! - Uncle Ilya Shiroka smiled.
- But, but, but there is one thing ...
- What?
- I'm still a virgin ...
The uncle smiled broadly and white teeth again.
- It's not for long.