Murmansk Delights

I told him no, that I came all the way from Murmansk. I asked him what he did at the ICBM site, just to be sure, and was gratified to learn that he worked maintenance on the missiles. He would know a hell of a lot about the SS-18 Satan and SS-19 Stiletto missiles we knew to be at this site. And so I told him I'd love to see him again, under better—and more private—circumstances and indeed was just melting to see him. And we made a date.

From the bar in Murmansk I took him back to the small apartment I rented for only one month—just one room and a bath, really, with a counter for cooking—and I undressed him and covered him with kisses and sat on the bed and clutched his buttocks to me in the palms of my hand while he stood between my spread thighs and I gave him a soft and slow blow job.

He came quickly and was in love before he'd squirted his last youthful, virile seed down my throat.

Then he made love to me—just like we were new-found lovers and this was the beginning of a life together. He had no idea what life this was beginning.

Aleksei laid me on my belly on the bed and, using lube, he gave me a sensuous full-body massage that had me panting for his loving attention and his freshness and his lovely body and for his innocence. While working my buttocks, he ran his hand under my balls and brought my cock through and stroked it as his other hand worked my butt cheeks and thighs.

My sighs for him were as real as it gets, as were my moans and the slow movements my hips began to make as he took my cock in his mouth and then sucked on my balls and then moved his lips to my hole and opened me up with his tongue.

When we fucked, it was like riding a camel across the sand dunes. He was astride my ass, his cock buried inside me and both he and I were rolling our hips as I moaned and he groaned and he got bigger and bigger and sank deeper and deeper and deeper and throbbed more rhythmically, both of us rolling across the sand dunes toward an oasis of fountaining bliss.

Sam Winterberry and Lev entered the room while I was taking my shower, and Lev had already extracted the cameras and shown Aleksei the replay of behavior that, in Russia, would go far worse with him in the top-secret clearance missile corps than a mere reprimand or change of assignment.

Aleksei looked like a crushed flower, and I couldn't stand being there. I left the apartment and went down to the small park across the street from the building's entrance and stayed there until Lev brought Aleksei down to the street. They walked off in different directions, Lev far more jauntily than Aleksei.

I caught up with Aleksei in the next two blocks. He didn't want to say anything, didn't even want to look at me. But I pulled him into an alley, pushed him up against the wall, and assured him that, although this was a web we all were caught in, my sex with him had been real. That he should know that at least. That what I'd felt and given to him was all real. Crying, he pulled me farther into the alley, behind some trash bins and pushed me up against the wall and covered my face and neck—and then, when he'd opened my shirt, my chest and nipples—with his kisses. I unbuckled his belt and mine and unbuttoned the fly on his brown worsted trousers and unzipped mine and pushed both pairs of trousers down to the ground while he was devouring my mouth and nipples. We stood there rocking back and forth against each other, as I fisted our cocks together and stroked. Aleksei sank to his knees and devoured my cock, while I moaned and scrabbled at the coarse bricks in the wall behind me.

I gave him what he wanted, and then, when he stood up, I climbed his legs and hips with my legs and helped him gain purchase with his cock at my entrance and, as he slid into me, met his thrusts with mine to exhaustion.

"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Aleksei," I muttered like a mantra.

"It's all worth it, all worth it, if I can have you along with the rest," he murmured.

"Yes, yes," I answered, knowing all along that I probably would never see him again.

When I returned to my apartment, Sam Winterberry was sitting on the bed. He looked up at me and said, "You were waiting for him downstairs, weren't you?"

"Yes," I answered. I had no secrets from Winterberry.

"Yes, you were," he said, satisfied that I hadn't lied to him. "I saw you follow him from the window."

"You let him fuck you again, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"You know you can't afford to take any of this personally."

"Yes."

"Well, go wash the stink of him off you now."

"Yes." After I showered, I came back out with a towel around my waist. Winterberry was still there, sitting on the bed, but he was naked now—and in full erection.

This was the part of the job I didn't care all that much for.

"Drop the towel."

When I did, he took a deep breath as he always did and smiled.

"Come lie here on your back on the bed and open your legs to me," he said.

"Yes." I answered out of habit.