“There’s no need to explain, comrade. Just sign the register here, and I’ll give you the best room in the house for the standard tourist rate. You’ll even have your own bathroom and a lovely view of the harbor… though I doubt there’s much to see on a stormy day like this.”
Mikhail signed the ledger and took the key.
“Can I get you anything before you go up?” offered the clerk.
“I could make up some breakfast, if you’d like. Or how about a nice piping hot pot of tea?”
“You’re most gracious, comrade, but we’ll be just fine with the room,” returned Mikhail, who took Tanya’s warm hand in his and led her up the staircase.
“What a delightful old lady,” reflected Tanya as they reached the second floor landing and searched for their room.
Mikhail spotted it at the very end of the corridor and anxiously led them toward it.
“She sounds a bit lonely,” he added.
“Why don’t I go back downstairs and invite her up for a drink? Why I bet she’d love a glass of champagne. And then she could tell us the story of her life.”
A disappointed look crossed Tanya’s face, though Mikhail was quick to change her mood when he grabbed her by the buttocks and pulled her close. It was after giving her a deep, wet kiss on the lips that he seductively whispered, “Don’t worry, my little sex kitten. I’m yours alone for this entire glorious day.”
With his free hand he managed to open the door to their room and then kick it shut with his foot. They went straight to the king-sized bed without even bothering to open the champagne. Mikhail couldn’t wait to get at Tanya’s luscious breasts and nearly ripped off her blouse as he reached in to fondle them. By the time he got her bra off, her massive nipples were red and hard, and Mikhail bent over to suckle them. As his tongue went to work on her erect nipples, Tanya began breathlessly panting. Inflamed by his touch, she reached down to fondle Mikhail’s swollen crotch. She seemed to like what she found down there as she unzipped his pants and tenderly stroked his throbbing, thick erection.
“I’ve got to have you inside of me,” cooed Tanya passionately.
Quick to satisfy this request, Mikhail pulled off the rest of his clothes, and did the same to Tanya’s. He laid her out on the rumpled white sheets and took a second to lustfully examine her shapely body before climbing on top of her.
Their lips met hungrily, and while their probing tongues intertwined, Mikhail guided the head of his rock-hard phallus up against the moist lips of his lover’s vagina. Well aware of the abnormally large size of his manhood, he carefully pushed his hips downward.
Tanya’s kisses became more frantic as he continued pushing himself forward, until after what seemed like a blissful eternity, his all was given.
All so slowly now, he reversed the direction of his thrust until his phallus was just about to be pulled free. Yet before it did so, he slid it downwards once again, this time plunging it into the hot, sticky depths with a smooth, quick stroke. Tanya ahhed in delight, her pleasure further heightened as he began thrusting into her with a spirited rhythm. In order to take his all, she kicked up her legs overhead and attempted to merge her trembling body into that of her lover.
Oblivious to the crackle of lightning, the booming thunder, and the howling wind outside that constantly rattled the only window, they made love in this position for a good quarter of an hour before the grinding motion of Tanya’s hips began to further intensify.
Mikhail noted this change, accompanied by the deep probings of her tongue. Instinctively quickening the pace of his thrusts, he felt his own climax began to rise.
Suddenly Tanya’s body began quivering, and her soft, white skin filled with goose bumps. Grunting in ecstasy, she shoved her hips upward as her womb erupted in sheer bliss. Mikhail felt a surge of molten hot fluid fill her depths, and let loose with his own eruption. Seed that had been stored inside of him for weeks on end rose upward in a spine-tingling orgasm, and not until Tanya had milked him dry did their hips stop grinding.
For the rest of the day, they continued their lovemaking, with only the champagne and their passion to nourish them. The sun had long since set, the storm no longer audible outside, when Mikhail reluctantly informed his lover that it was time for him to return to duty. After a long hot shower, he crawled back onto the bed where Tanya awaited him. They kissed, and Tanya pulled her head back and softly whispered, “You are truly the lion of the Spetsnaz, Mikhail dearest. Go in peace, and may it not be long until the sea sends you back to my lips.”
Mikhail left the hotel alone. Tanya’s scent was still with him as he crisply walked down a deserted side street whose narrow length was partially flooded by the day’s storm. He had to display his identification card to be allowed entry through the barbed-wire topped gates that surrounded the pier. Here a tough-looking Uzbekian sentry approached him with a German shepard on a short steel leash. The dog proceeded to sniff Mikhail’s clothing, and after determining that he wasn’t carrying any illicit drugs onto the base, meekly backed away.
The Spetsnaz commando knew that for the most part, these dogs were merely for show. The drug problem that infected the Red Banner fleet was a very serious one. Hashish and opium smuggled up from the south were the most abused substances. Utilized to fill those long, lonely hours that a sailor was faced with while at sea, the drugs slowed reaction time and dulled mental alertness. Such conditions could mean disaster in times of crisis, and the fleet was attempting to deal with the crisis by stricter security measures and a variety of drug education programs.
Ever thankful for his limited vices, Mikhail approached the pier where his current command was hidden away in the moon pool of the Ugra-class support ship. Immediately beside the gantry way of this vessel, a shiny black Chaika limousine was parked. Mikhail briefly stopped to admire this automobile that flew the crimson red pennants of the Admiral of the Fleet from its chrome grill.
“Captain Borisov!” shouted a voice from the gangplank.
Looking up to see who was calling him, Mikhail was soon facing the same eager aide who had initially invited him to join Admiral Starobin for dinner at the officers’ club a mere twenty-four hours ago.
“I’m glad you got here, sir,” added the breathless junior officer.
“Admiral of the Fleet Markov and Admiral Starobin have been waiting for you for a good ten minutes now. They instructed me to escort you to the Ugra’s wardroom as soon as you arrived.”
“Well then, lead on,” said Mikhail.
As he climbed onto the support ship and began his way through a maze of twisting corridors, Mikhail couldn’t help but be impressed by the identities of the two officers currently waiting for his presence. It was awkward enough to keep an important figure such as Igor Starobin waiting. Yet if he had known that the Admiral of the Fleet himself would be down here like this, Mikhail would have curtailed his delightful lovemaking session and left for the pier a bit earlier.
Konstantin Markov was a naval legend. Mikhail had only met him face to face once before, when he received his advanced commission after graduating from Leningrad’s prestigious A. A. Grechko Naval Academy.
Responsible for the current state of the motherland’s fleet, Admiral Markov was a man of vision who rose to power in those dark, confusing days that followed the conclusion of the Great War. As an advocate of a strong submarine force, he fought off those in the Defense Ministry who desired to channel the Rodina’s limited funds into the surface fleet. He eventually succeeded in this endeavor, and today the Soviet Union had the most powerful armada of submersibles the world had ever known. Proud that his Sea Devil was part of this program, Mikhail crossed through officer’s country and gratefully ducked into the wardroom.