She's horny and she's crazy

Ем тесна, ем бесна

Once there was a man, and he took his grain to the mill to have it ground. While the grain was grinding, he compared his measurements with the miller's. He put the two sticks in his jacket, put them on his shoulders, and so forgot about them. He came home.

"Hey, what are these sticks," his wife asked him, "on your neck?"

"Ah, that's not for telling."

"Why not for telling?"

"Because it's something embarrassing."

"And what's so embarrassing about sticks?" she said.

"Okay, the miller and I measured our tools today and I forgot about it, I stuck the measurements here. I didn't throw them away."

"Whose is the bigger one?"

"Oh, the miller's, it's longer. You see: it measures a full palm longer!"

This remained in the wife's mind, and she began to pour out the flour to the pigs, to the dogs, and in a trice she used it all up. The husband sensed that his wife was not like usual. And one day she said to him:

"So, there's no flour. There's no flour, somebody has to go to the mill."

"I can't go to the mill, I have to do some plowing," her husband said. "I still have fields to plow."

"Well then, I'll go."

"So go, if you want!"

"Leave me the horse and I'll go."

"Here's the horse, I'll carry the seed with the cart. Here's the horse for you!"

He took the cart and went to the miller. He said to him:

"Listen, now, here's how it is: my wife is coming to the mill today. Here's a day's wages; you go and plow, and I'll wait for my wife, she'll come here. And I’ll even pay you the fee for the grinding.."

They were on good terms with the miller, and they came to an agreement.

"Let's see what my wife wants to do here today." He told the miller what had happened with the sticks.

Fine. So they came to an understanding. The miller went to do the plowing, and the husband stayed at the mill. They changed clothes, and the husband floured himself up so he wouldn't be recognized. And he disguised his voice, so as not to be recognized. And his wife came.

"Will you grind the grain for me?" she says, after they weighed it.

"No, I have to do another one."

"We are your old customers. You will grind it. We don't have any for ourselves, for the pig, or for the dogs."

"We will grind it. Only, how did you use it up so fast?"

"It was nothing, we simply used it up. My husband couldn't come, so I came to the mill today."

"Fine!"

They emptied someone else's grain from the bins into some sacks, they poured out theirs into the mill, and they waited for it. She began to fiddle with the sticks:

"So, what did you and my husband do," she said, "the last time when he came to the mill? What did you measure with the sticks?"

"Did he really tell you? Shame on him!" he said.

"No, it's not shameful. He told me you measured your cocks."

"It's true, we did measure them."

"Whose was longer?"

"I don't know, I don't remember."

"Apparently yours was a little longer?"

"Possibly, I forget."

"Can we get it on?"

"If you want, we'll do it. That's what it's for," he said to her.

Anyway, so they began.

"Can you get it in deeper?" she said.

The miller, her husband, got up and said to her:

"Can't do it again!"

"Let's do it one more time!" she said.

So they did it again, and a third time. The grain was milled, they gathered it up, and she went off. And he went off to plow, there he changed clothes with the miller and paid him.

He comes home that evening, and she begins to brag:

"I went to the mill."

"You've done well."

"I ground it twice, and waited for it. He ground it for me because we are old customers. He had other grain."

"That's great!"

The next day was a holiday. He doesn't go off to plow.

"Wife, I don't feel well, my head hurts. Make up a bed by the fire, throw down a mat so I can warm myself, so I can rest."

She spread it out for him. He says:

"Sit here by me, I want to lay my head in your lap, I want you to scratch my head. It feels like something itches and my head hurts."

She sat there. He began to act as if her thing (pussy) was telling him something:

"Say now, bigger! Really? Twice? Well, she shouldn't have ... three times? That's a lot. It's still bigger?"

"It's bigger, she shouldn't have made you do it," he said, "she gave you a lot of trouble. She shouldn't have done that. Fine if it had been mine, but he was bigger--and she did it three times, one after the other. That's too much!"

"What's going on?" said his wife.

"What do you mean 'what's going on'? It's her! Your thing is crying. She's telling me something. Yesterday you overdid it with the miller. Not only was he bigger, but you did it three times!"

"Say what?"

"Well here she is, she's the one saying it, she's crying. Look how unhappy she is." And while she was sitting by the fire, she put the poker near the fire, into the fire. Her husband got up and went outside. She stuck the poker between her legs, and it went 'hiss, hiss'!

"That thing, she's horny and she's crazy! First she makes me do it, then she tells on me. She complained to him, but she's the one that made me do it."