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 AN INTERVIEW WITH GORSHIN (Part 8)





   By KATZMAREK(C)





   As the days passed, the extent of the disaster began to dawn on
everyone. No more ships came the next day, nor the next.  Three days went
past and even the most optimistic had to admit that any surviving ships
would have to be running out of coal.

   Yvgeny Gorshin arrived at the private sanatorium in Nakhodka only dimly
aware of where he was.  The journey had been arduous even in the
well-sprung Anatra motor ambulance.  The road had been heavily rutted.

   The 'Mad Pole' was still at 'Vostok,' it being too dangerous to move him
at the time.  Yvgeny, he recalled afterwards, had been informed the Pole
would be joining him.  He was too sick, however, for the information to
sink in.

   The sanatorium was situated on a high hill with views out across the Sea
of Japan.  It was well-staffed by doctors assisted by volunteer nurses
organised through a Charity.  Care was of a good standard, far higher than
at the Navy's Hospital.

   --------------------------------------

   "My fever broke after three days," Gorshin explained to the young
Ensign, "I was weak as a kitten for days...  I just lay in my cot not
thinking.  They put me in this room with big windows so the sun bathed my
face.  I could smell the sea through the open window.  I guess I was in
some kind of shock."

   "When did you become aware that Almaz, Bravy and the Grozny were the
only ones to make it?" the Archivist asked.

   "Not for at least a week.  I think they deliberately kept the news from
me.  Strange, I didn't even think to ask."

   "Why?"

   "I was focussed on my personal survival.  Thinking back, the gloom was
palpable in that sanatorium.  There were only a few Navy personnel there.
Most were senior Army Officers who had been at Mukden, Jilan and other
battles.  Tch, I have to say that the Russian armed forces had been badly
beaten on land and sea...  everywhere.  It was a hard time for us and
everyone felt it."

   "What of the Japanese army?  They must have been close?"

   "General Oyama was moving slowly.  The Russian army had been shunted out
of their positions and were in two halves.  Some of it was in Northern
Manchuria while a Division or two was covering Vladivostok from the West.
But the Japs themselves were exhausted.  We didn't know it at the time but
their army wasn't in much better shape than ours."

   ------------------------------------------

   Yvgeny learned that his expenses were being picked up by the powerful
Khlodovsky family estate.  The family's agent visited him and undertook to
send telegrams back to Yvgeny's parents, and to Katka in Libau.  It was a
bonus as the military had priority over the single telegraph wire.

   The nurses at the sanatorium had volunteered to make the arduous journey
East to tend the sick and wounded.  Many had little training or experience.
Rather they responded out of a patriotic duty or a sense of adventure.

   They came from all parts of Russia, but mostly from the European
provinces, Ukraine, Byelorussia, Poland, Finland and the Baltic states. 
Most were ordinary middle class women, capable of embarking on careers but
prevented by society's pressure from doing so.  They either married or
stayed at home, that was the choice in 1905.  Another way out was to make
the month-long journey across the expanse of Siberia to care for wounded
soldiers.

   The nurses weren't permitted to work in military hospitals, however. 
The medical staff either regarded them as foolish do-gooders or little
better than whores.  Some found employment in private facilities such as
Nakhodka.

   Yvgeny's doctors advised at least two weeks convalescence after his
fever had broken.  During his stay news of the fate of the fleet began to
filter in.

   ------------------------------------

   "Let's see," sighed Admiral Gorshin, "Nebogatov surrendered the Nikolai,
Senyavin and Apraxin just South of Takeshima Island.  Togo stayed just out
of range of his old guns so he'd little choice, although the public felt
otherwise.  The Ushakov had lagged behind and was bailed by the Fuji and
Asahi.  When asked to surrender her captain took a vote among the Officers
and crew.  The majority couldn't bear the humiliation so they opened fire.
It sank after a 45 minute bombardment."

   "The Svetlana held out for an hour and a half against three of
Kamimura's cruisers.  Barely able to steam, she fired away all her
ammunition then opened her Kingston valves and scuttled herself.  Izumrud
ran onto rocks off the coast of Korea and was a total loss."

   "Buiny's engines gave out and Rhozdventsky was transferred to Biedovy.
They both surrendered at 1620 the day following the battle.  Bezuprechny
remained off Tsushima Island unable to raise full boiler pressure.  She
fought it out with Togo's Destroyers and sank, taking Commander Matusevich
and his crew with her.  Similarly Gromky refused to surrender and sank with
all hands."

   "We'd left the Navarin anchored in an inlet, no?  They got her with
floating mines."

   "The last to go was the ancient Dimitri Donskoi.  She made it as far as
Takeshima where she was caught by Destroyers.  Her Captain ran her onto a
sand bar to prevent her from being torpedoed.  There she fought it out for
three days, sinking three of the enemy boats with her 210mm main guns. 
Eventually, with no help possible, she set charges after the crew walked
ashore."

   "Not since Trafalgar had a fleet been so utterly defeated.  Russia had
been the 3rd largest Naval power after Britain and France and now we'd been
demoted down off the chart.  Apart from a small squadron confined to the
Black Sea, our Navy had ceased to exist.  It was a catastrophe from which
we didn't recover until after the War against Fascism.  Then we used
captured German technology to build submarines...  bah," he spat.

   "We built more ships," protested the Ensign.

   "Oh, our next Battleship, the Andrej Pervozanni, was a good ship but by
then the British, French and Germans were building Dreadnoughts.  We'd been
put out of the game almost for good.  Our replies were too little and too
late, the Ganguts, Imperatritsas and the new Borodino class Battlecruisers
were poor replies, in my opinion, to the latest ships being built by other
navies."

   "Whose technology did we borrow to build those?" asked the Ensign, with
a wry grin.

   "Italian," Gorshin chuckled, "I think we'd had enough of French ideas by
then."

   -----------------------------------------

   1905 was a bad year for the Russian Monarchy and people.  Besides the
comprehensive military defeat by Japan, the cities of Western Russia were
in turmoil.

   There were food shortages caused by a poor grain harvest.  The Winter
had been particularly harsh adding further hardship.  Many believed the
shortage of bread was as a result of the Estate owners hoarding grain to
ratchet the price.  There *was* some truth to the rumour.  It was, after
all, an historic practice.

   Cities like St Petersburg, Moscow, Kharkov and Kiev had a growing
industrial working class.  Russia's industrial revolution had been late and
relied heavily on foreign investment, particularly French.  Workers began
agitating for change, fueled by a bewildering number of revolutionary
political groups.

   There had been hunger marches, the most famous being Father Gapon's
march on the Winter Palace.  Units of the Black Sea fleet had mutinied, the
most notable being the 305mm gunned Battleship Kniaz Potemkin
Tsechiarovski. Cossack Semi-Regular Cavalry units had been let loose on
some of the protestors with entirely predictable bloody results.  At St
Peter's Steps in Odessa a crowd of men, women and children was ridden down
by mounted cavalry.

   Despite the hardships among the poor of the cities, Russia was still an
immensely rich country.  Beaten by the Japanese, she could still continue
the war if she wanted to.  With over three million men under arms, finding
another army wouldn't have presented too big a difficulty.  The problem was
national morale and that was at a low ebb.

   So when President Theodore Roosevelt of the United States offered to
mediate between the two parties, the Russians readily accepted.

   The Japanese dragged their feet for a while but eventually accepted. 
The talks were to be held at Portsmouth, New Hampshire.  Victors on the
battlefield, the Japanese were to face the full might of Russian diplomacy.

   Japan had become impoverished by the war.  She'd made significant
military gains, occupying the whole of Korea, the Liaotung peninsula and
most of Southern Manchuria.  But what she most needed was gold to pay off
her debts and that was what Sergei Witte and the other Russian negotiators
were determined not to give them.

   St Petersburg was pleased with the venue for the peace talks.  The
Russians had had cordial relations with America for some time and had even
bought warships from US yards, such as the Battleship Retvizan.

   The relationship between the US and the Empire of Japan was tense,
however.  US discrimination against Japanese immigrants and American
nervousness over Japanese expansionism had created an uneasy atmosphere. 
Tokyo would have preferred to hold the talks in Britain.  Clearly,
considering the recent history of Anglo-Russian relations, that was a
suggestion the Russians were never likely to agree to.

   Sergei Witte was a long-serving Russian bureaucrat and a former Finance
Minister.  The agrarian and political reforms that had taken place under
Tsar Nicholas had been mostly Witte's ideas.  He was also one of the ablest
negotiators of his time.

   The Japanese, on the other hand, seemed to have been content just to
show up.  Their negotiators were elderly Aristocrats, such as Prince Ito,
who were clearly out of their depth in International horse-trading.  There
was a perception in Japan that they'd been set-up by a combination of
traditional European powers and the USA.  A conclusion not wholly
unjustified as it turned out later.

   On the other hand, there was a feeling among the World's powers that raw
aggression shouldn't go rewarded.  Particularly if the aggressor Nation was
a non-European one.

   Japanese demands were extravagantly optimistic.  An indemnity of 40
million roubles, the annexation of Korea and the Liaotung and a recognition
of her 'special status' in Manchuria.  Lastly, the possession of all her
war booty, particularly the Russian warships captured or salvaged from Port
Arthur.



   What she got was: the transfer of the leases to Port Arthur and Dailan
and recognition of her 'special status' in Korea, all faits acomplis in any
case.  Russia agreed to withdraw from Manchuria and Japanese companies were
allowed to be established there.  For the moment China was permitted to
re-estabish control of her Northern provinces.  The 'indemnity' was the
annexation of Southern Sakhalin Island to the 50th parallel.  Japan could
keep her prizes but she would not get one Kopek out of the Russian
treasury.

   The frozen, mountainous, sparsely-populated Southern Sakhalin didn't
seem like much compensation for the Japanese sacrifice and most of the
public agreed.  She didn't receive outright control of either Korea or
Manchuria and this outraged Tokyo.  Japan was to suffer a deep recession
for the next 5 years or so.  Prince Ito was later assassinated for his
trouble.

   Japan would possess Sakhalin for barely 40 years.  In 1945, a Red Army
Group consisting of 4 Mechanised Armies demolished the Japanese Manchurian
Army in less than two weeks, precipitating the Anglo-American decision to
drop the Atomic bomb.  The Western Allies feared a Soviet occupation of
Japan.  The USSR then gained the Kurile Islands off Northern Japan as
*their* compensation.  What goes around, comes around.

   ---------------------------------------

   Yvgeny Gorshin had to wait indefinitely at Nakhodka until transport was
available West.  The Russian army needed to be supplied and reinforced. 
Only essential traffic was permitted on the single-track Railway.  The good
news of sorts was that he was permitted to remain at Sanatorium until he
was able to return home.

   Peter Szpetznar's recovery was slow, but he was receiving the best of
care.  Yvgeny sat by his bedside and read the newspapers to him. 
Occasionally they would share a smuggled bottle of Vodka and dine on olives
and caviar with black bread.  The good life was beginning to restore their
morale.

   With Yvgeny's recovery came the restoration of his libido.  Athough he'd
sent a message to Katka, he'd not heard back and was beginning to wonder
whether she still had feelings for him.  The postal system, however, had
almost completely broken down.

   News of the Grozny's exploits were becoming common knowledge.  In the
midst of defeat people needed heroes and the deeds of the three little
ships that made it home were widely discussed.

   Peter Szpetznar was already on the receiving end of special attention
from some of the nurses.  His larger than life personality and talent for
self-promotion attracted some of the more impressionable young ladies, and
older ones.  It wasn't long before the door to the 'Mad Pole's' room was
firmly closed and muffled female giggles heard inside.

   Yvgeny himself began to receive the attention of a young nurse from
Turku in Southern Finland.  She was dark-haired, short with a very womanly,
well-rounded body.  She spoke heavily-accented Russian with a bright and
breezy smile.

   Yulia was her name and she began to spend more and more time with the
young Russian Sub-Lieutenant.  He enjoyed the easy chat and company now
that the Pole was elsewhere occupied.

   Yulia worked the afternoon shift and would often stay on after her
duties had finished.  They began to discuss life and love.  Yvgeny told her
about Katka, she her marriage at a young age to a man 30 years her senior.

   The young Yulia had married a family friend when she was barely 16 years
old.  He was a widower in his forties, his first wife had died of TB, and
he owned a successful import/export business.

   He showered the young Yulia with expensive gifts, was very kind and
respectful towards her.  Yulia's parents had been won over at an early
stage in the courtship.  The family had modest means and the match promised
a considerable increase in the family's fortunes.

   Despite the pressure, Yulia had wanted to marry her husband.  He
promised a life she'd only dreamed of, freedom from struggle, drudgery and
poverty.  And the prospect of travel and education outside of the insular
Finnish town also excited her.

   Their marriage was happy enough but also disappointed her.  Girl
fantasies of passion and intimacy remained unfulfilled.  Her husband seemed
cold and conservative to a vivacious young woman full of life and dreams.
She volunteered for charity work with her husband's blessing when war broke
out.

   News of the military reverses in the East shocked and disturbed all
corners of the Empire.  Inured with a belief in Russian power, confusion
turned to Imperial duty, she *had* to 'do her bit.' In actual fact, service
in the East was also a way out of domestic boredom.

   The East turned out to be nothing like what she expected.  Instead of
clean, white hospital wards full of dedicated Doctors and Staff, she found
a Medical Service totally overwhelmed by the number of casualties.  Snow
thawed and turned to mud and slush.  Flies and other insects, vermin
including rats the size of rabbits seemed to appear as if by magic.

   The medical staff were overworked and had eyes sunken into their
sockets. Men came in filthy from the front line with open wounds of the
most horrific kind.  This had been an artillery war and had seen the use of
new weapons such as the Maxim Machine Gun.  Consequently tales of life in
the trenches for the poor infantry had appalled her.

   Yvgeny Gorshin seemed like a breath of fresh air.  He was only a few
years older than her, tall and good-looking.  He told her tales of the sea
and experiences in foreign lands that seemed exotic and exciting.

   One day, Yvegny discovered it was Yulia's birthday.  He decided such an
occasion shouldn't go uncelebrated so he acquired some vodka from the Pole
and a fruitcake from the Khlodovsky's agent.

   She had been surprised and delighted.  Some of the other nurses and
patients, as well as the Pole, had crowded into Yvgeny's little room for a
party.  There were hugs and kisses all round, but Yvgeny's clasp and brief
kiss were particularly special.  She realised she wanted more.

   As the party wore on, the guests became more affected by the alcohol. 
Peter began to get 'friendly' with a nurse in the corner.  Her hushed
giggling drew the attention of Yulia.

   "I think they're having an affair," she told Yvgeny, conspiratorially.

   "I don't doubt," he replied, "Peter is very popular with the ladies."

   Yulia looked flushed.  She half-reclined on Yvgeny's bed propped by
several large pillows.

   "I guess he's okay," she told him, "a bit full of himself for my taste."

   "Yes," Yvgeny agreed, "he gives one that impression.  Actually, I think
he needs the attention.  Underneath I believe he's quite insecure."

   "Oh?"

   "He has to have an admiring crowd about him.  On his own he's quite the
different person.  He becomes introspective and sullen...  goes to Church."

   "He does?" Yulia asked in surprise.

   "Frightened...  like we all were.  I think Peter compensates with a
mixture of God and sex, a very complex person."

   "I wonder whether he'll go to Heaven or Hell," she laughed.

   "Peter has a bet each way.  Whichever, I'd imagine he'd miss purgatory.
When he goes he'll follow the direct route."

   "You're funny," she gushed.

   Peter and the nurse were becoming more amorous.  Yulia was fascinated as
she peered at them through the corner of her eye.  As they kissed, she
thought, it was obvious their tongues were playing.  The nurse's giggling
had ceased.  She was now far more serious.

   Yulia averted her eyes when she saw Peter's hand shamelessly groping the
girl's chest.  It wasn't long before the pair quickly said their goodbyes
and slipped out of the room for more privacy.

   One by one the other guests stumbled and staggered out the door until
there was only Yvgeny and Yulia left.

   Her 'good sense' told her she should leave but she couldn't make her
body move.  Instead she lay across Yvgeny's bed, her eyes were closed but
she was very much awake.  Her body simmered with sexual desire.

   Yvgeny stood staring out the window distractedly.  Yulia watched him for
a while, full of curiosity.  His body was silhouetted against the setting
sun.  She appraised it for a moment.  Not a hint of flabbiness but perhaps
a little too lean.  Probably the result of the hardships of the voyage and
subsequent battle.

   Some say the survivors of Tsushima had aged ten years.  They said their
young bodies had old faces and their eyes reflected sadness.  She didn't
think that was true of Yvgeny.  His eyes were vital and full of life.

   Yulia absently patted the side of the bed with her hand.  She was
impatient for something to happen, even a goodnight kiss.  But for the
moment, Yvgeny Gorshin didn't move.

   ----------------------------------------------

   Yvgeny felt the waves of desire on his back as he stared out the window,
emanating from the young nurse.  He knew she wanted to make love, she
attracted him as well, but he wasn't sure it was the right thing to do.  He
knew he could fall very heavily for Yulia but that wasn't what he needed
right now.

   Turning towards her, he asked quietly, "What do you want to do?"

   She shrugged a reply, her eyes flicking open for a moment before closing
again.

   "I can't fall in love with you," he told her.  Almost as if to himself.

   "No," she replied in a whisper.  "I must return to my husband," she
added as an afterthought.

   "Yes, yes of course you must," he agreed, "and my Katka is waiting for
me back West.  At least I hope she is."

   "So we both have someone."

   "Yes."

   "Back West."

   "That's right, back West.  And when I can get on a train, I shall be
leaving."

   "I know, so will I.  They say the war is all but over.  We can go home."

   "Yes, home," Yvgeny agreed, "and we can forget about this sorry mess."

   "Will you?" she asked, "forget?" Her eyes opened, she stared into his
face now moist with tears.  "For whom do you mourn?" Her voice was soft, it
seemed to brush his soul.

   Yvgeny sighed, "for my friends...  my special friend called Feodor, for
the fleet that had to die and a life changed forever."

   "The fleet that had to die," she repeated, "was there ever any hope for
it?"

   "No," he told her, "and we all knew there wasn't."

   "Come," she said, "hug me."

   Yvgeny stumbled to the bed and lay next to Yulia.  She put her arm
gently around his shoulders and put her head next to his cheek.  After a
while she hummed in pleasure.  "Y'know something?" she said, "my husband
and I never did this.  We have separate beds."

   "You have?  Why?" he asked in surprise.

   "My husband prefers it that way," she explained, "he only touches me
when he wants to...  you know."

   "Really?"

   "And when he's finished," she continued, "he pecks me on the cheek and
goes back to his own bed.  I don't even get to hold him."

   She sniffed noisily and looked away.  Yvgeny turned towards her and
touched her cheek with his hand.  He brought her face back and brushed away
a tear with his thumb.  She smiled into his eyes.  He gently kissed her on
the lips.

   She opened her mouth to say something but changed her mind.  Instead, a
smile flickered over her face and she pursed her lips.  His next kiss was
longer and full of promise.  Yulia kissed back with equal enthusiasm.

   Her 'common sense' tried to intervene.  Yulia pushed Yvgeny back.

   "I mustn't...  this is wrong," she gasped.  Her chest heaved and her
face was flushed with desire.  "I'm married!" she pleaded.

   Yvgeny brushed his fingertips over her face.  "The door is open," he
told her.

   "Oh," she said, not understanding, "then we must close it."

   "I thought you wanted to go," he said.

   "No!" she said hastily, "I mean...  I don't know."

   "Then you can leave whenever you like.  Meanwhile, perhaps I'd better
shut the door."

   "And lock it?" she added.

   "Of course," he grinned as he made for the door.

   ------------------------------------------

   "She really didn't know what she wanted," commented Admiral Gorshin.  "I
guess it was a big step, taking to bed someone who was not her husband. 
Even when I began to take off my clothes, she just lay there staring, not
moving."

   "Perhaps," suggested the Ensign, "she wanted to be coaxed.  That way the
responsibility for the sin is diminished."

   Gorshin looked at the young man in surprise.

   "I see," he replied sarcastically, "and you're in the habit of sleeping
with other men's wives?"

   "Well," the Ensign blushed, "I guess the uniform is...  attractive to
some ladies."

   Gorshin put his head back and laughed.  "And therein lies a tale to
tell? Fetch me another packet of Marlboro, lad," he told him, "top shelf."

   "American cigarettes?" the Ensign said in surprise.

   "When you get to my age in the Service," Gorshin replied, "they give you
everything you want.  And my Grandson is an Officer on foreign station of
course," he chuckled, "access to everything."

   "Oh?  Is he on a ship?"



   "Yes, Raketny Kreiser (Missile Cruiser) 'Admiral Gorshin'," he laughed,
"nice touch!  They name a ship after me and I'm not dead yet.  Admiral
Makarov had to wait till after his funeral!" he added with satisfaction.

   --------------------------------------

   Yvgeny stripped to his underwear beside the bed.  Each item of his
precious uniform he carefully laid out on a chair.  Yulia watched him as if
spellbound.  She remained still when Yvgeny climbed onto the bed beside
her.

   He took her lips between his and gently nibbled, easing them slowly
apart.

   "I'm not used to..." she started to say, breathing heavily.

   "Kissing?" he volunteered, before resuming the task.

   "Hmm!" she hummed.

   His hand began to rove, over her flat stomach and up her side.  His
thumb was tantalisingly close to her right breast.

   Yulia's nurse's uniform was made of heavy cotton.  Her dress was
buttoned modestly up to her throat.  It was loose and billowy and the skirt
hung down to her ankles.  Despite the shapelessness of the uniform, Yvgeny
could see her breasts were quite large, though not overly so.  They seemed
in proportion to her full rounded hips.

   As Yvgeny continued kissing her lips, his hand snaked higher over her
breast.  Presently he was kneading it with his palm.  Under the heavy
fabric he could feel her nipple stiffen.

   "Oh!" she gasped, "I don't think you should be doing that."

   "You don't like it?" he asked.

   "Oh yes!" she replied.

   "Then what *do* you want?" Yvgeny asked her in frustration.

   "Perhaps," she said after some thought, "you could just hold me?  A
little kissing maybe?  I don't really mind," she added, "if you touch me,
but it musn't go any further, Yvgeny."

   "What, Madam, may I be allowed to touch?" he asked.  His voice was
tinged with sarcasm.

   "Oh don't be grumpy!" she chided.  Then, after a pause she furrowed her
brow.  "Yvgeny?  she asked, "can we just sleep together, for just this
once? Can I trust you that you'll not misbehave?  I'd like your arms around
me but I cannot make love.  Do you understand?"

   "I suppose so," he replied doubtfully.  "Do you intend to sleep in that
dress?" he added as an afterthought.

   "No!  Perhaps I should go to my quarters and fetch my nightdress?"

   Yvgeny agreed and she scuttled off.

   -------------------------------------------

   "Did she really just want to cuddle?" the Ensign smiled.

   "As I said," replied Admiral Gorshin, "I don't think she knew what she
wanted.  I guess if that was all she was offering then I'd go along with
it. She was a beautiful girl with a nice, soft, warm, body.  What man would
pass up the chance of being next to her for the night?"

   ----------------------------------------------

   Presently Yulia returned dressed in her long nightshirt.  Yvgeny was
already in bed in his shirt and long underpants.  She giggled like a
schoolgirl on a dare.  Slipping into the bed beside Yvgeny, she pulled his
arm over her body and turned her face to his.  In answer to his raised
eyebrows, she told him that it was all right to kiss her.  Yvgeny obliged
hungrily.

   Yvgeny leaned over her, eventually rolling practically on top of her. 
He could feel the soft contours of her body beneath him.  She encircled his
head and pulled him harder against her face.

   His lips paid attention to her neck, then drifted down towards her
cleavage.  She could feel the warmth from his thigh, now pressing between
her legs.  Yulia parted them slightly to make it more comfortable.

   Where lips and tongue touched the bare swell of her breasts it left a
burning sensation.  Yulia moaned in surprise and arousal.  Emboldened,
Yvgeny touched her nipple with the tip of his tongue making it stiffen
beneath the thin fabric of her nightdress.

   He kissed down her body over her nightdress.  At each touch Yulia
squirmed and made soft noises.  He nibbled over her tummy then drifted
lower, hands stroking her side before coming to rest over her breasts.

   "I think you should stop now," she told him in a weak and not very
convincing voice.

   "Sure," he mumbled into the bunched fabric of her shirt.

   "Oh," she gasped, "I mean it..." Yvgeny massaged her mound with his
chin, eliciting another moan.  "Oh God, stop!" He followed his chin,
though, with his lips.  "No, you can't...  uh, not there!" Yvgeny, however,
continued to kiss between her legs.

   She squeezed his head between her thighs but gradually began to relax.
Yulia began to giggle, a 'naughty schoogirl' type laugh.  Her body jerked
and vibrated beneath Yvgeny's lips.  Then her foot came in contact with the
hard ridge in the front of Yvgeny's underpants.  "Oh," she gasped once
more.

   Yulia continued to protest weakly as Yvgeny slid her nightshirt inch by
inch up her legs.  He kissed and nibbled the exposed skin, now warm and
glistening with perspiration.  Still protesting, however, she did nothing
to prevent Yvgeny pushing her nightshirt up to her neck.  In fact, Yvgeny
noted she wriggled her body to assist him.

   Her face was a mixture of curiosity, uncertainty and excitement as
Yvgeny slid back up her body to her lips.  He pressed the hard ridge of his
erection between her legs and looked down in wonder at her heaving chest.

   It had been many long eventful weeks since he'd last suckled on a
woman's breasts.  Yulia's pair were creamy white and topped with dark red
and very stiff nipples.  He sucked them into his mouth as Yulia moaned and
ground her crotch against his.

   "Oh!  What are you doing to me?" she whined.

   "Making love," he told her before assaulting her lips once more.

   "My God, you musn't!"

   "Then leave," he whispered.

   "I can't...  uh...  I'm not dressed!" she gasped, "oh, you're so
beautiful," she added, her eyes watering.  "No man has ever done this to
me," she added.

   "Do what?" he whispered into her ear.  His hands were now sliding into
the back of her silk panties.

   "Make me feel...  this way," she told him.

   "I want to see you," Yvgeny breathed, "may I?" he asked, indicating her
panties.

   "I suppose so," she told him doubtfully and hoisted her bottom to allow
him to slide them down off her legs.

   Yulia lay naked on her back, her legs apart but her hand firmly clenched
over her pussy.  She offered only token resistance as Yvgeny gently eased
her hand away.  He then lay his head on her tummy and examined her with his
fingers.

   "Beautiful," he whispered as he combed through her dark bush.  She
started as he rubbed her prominent clitoris with his thumb.

   "Don't...  uh!"

   Holding her thighs apart he clamped his mouth over it, sucking and
flicking it with his tongue.  Yulia tried to clamp her legs together,
moaning and grinding her pelvis against his mouth.  He then kissed his way
back up her body to her face.  "I don't believe you did that!" she
whispered in surprise.

   "Why?"

   "Because it's dirty and smells," she told him.

   "No it's not," he protested, "it's beautiful and smells sexy." She
didn't seem to mind when he left his hand there, however.

   "Yvgeny," she said after a while.  Her voice had changed to a
'kittenish', teasing quality.  "I haven't seen *you* yet."

   "Do you want to?" he grinned.

   "It's only fair."

   Yvgeny pushed down his underpants and his stiff cock sprung into view.
Her eyes widened in surprise and she rested her head on his tummy for a
better view.  She reached out her hand and touched him lightly with her
fingertips.

   "Well?" he asked.

   "Well what?"

   "What do you think?"

   "It's big!  How is a lady supposed to take that thing inside her?"

   "Very easily," he laughed, "or so I'm told.  What did your husband do
with his?"

   "I've never really seen it," she explained, "it's always dark and he
wears a nightshirt.  When we make love he just pulls his shirt up a ways
and climbs on."

   "Hmm, not very romantic.  Do you enjoy it?"

   "I start to but he finishes too soon.  Why am I telling you this?  It's
most improper."

   "Well," he replied, "I suppose holding a strange man by the penis is a
'proper' thing to do?"

   "Well?" she squeaked, "it's not as if we're fornicating is it?  I mean,
we're mature adults and this is the twentieth century."

   "Sure," he teased, "and lying naked together, me with a finger in your
pussy and you with a hand around my cock is a perfectly modern thing to
do?"

   "Stop it!" she giggled, "you can't talk like that.  I meant to say that
this is 1905 and we're not hidebound by our parents' morals any more
and..."

   "If you think so," he told her laughing, "I certainly like the modern
woman if that's the case.  If you keep doing that I'm going to make a
mess," he cautioned.

   "Oh!" she let him go, "maybe we should stop?"

   "And I'm supposed to go to sleep with this?" he told her holding his
erection.

   "Oh!  What do you want me to do?"

   "Now," he kissed her nipple, "now that you ask.  I would want to put
this," he waved his cock, "into there," he wiggled his finger in her.

   "Oh I see," she said, "of course you would.  But we really shouldn't...
I mean, that would be fornicating and, uh, my marriage vows and..."

   He rolled over between her legs, his cock resting along her furry crack.

   Yvgeny pressed down and slid his erection over her pussy.  She pushed
back, increasing the pressure.  "Maybe," she whispered, "just a little way.
Be careful!"

   "Sure, uh, like this?"

   "Uh, yes...  so big!  Maybe...  just a little further."

   Yvgeny took her bottom in his hands and eased himself further up her
warm, moist vagina.  He slowly stroked into her, pressing down on her pubic
bone.

   "Like this?" he asked, munching on her breast.

   "Yes baby...  uh, a bit more...  oh!"

   "Far enough, uh?"

   "No!  More!  Oo, a bit faster..." she gasped, "Faster...  harder...uh,
uh..."

   Soon he built up speed until he was pounding his full length into her.
She moaned and babbled, grabbed his arse and pulled him still harder
against her.

   "Yulia, I'm going to..." Yvgeny told her, desperately.

   "Don't stop!" she whined, "keep going!"

   Yvgeny slammed hard into her, blasting stream after stream of hot come
deep inside her pussy.  Yulia wailed, trapped his arse, and kept grinding
herself against him.  He pushed his hand between them and vigorously rubbed
her engorged bud with his finger as her body stiffened then thrashed in
orgasm.

   Afterwards, Yulia stared at him for an uncomfortably long time.  Her
face glowed with perspiration, her hair was matted across her face.

   "That was wonderful," she told him, "the most beautiful experience of my
life.  Please don't leave me."

   --------------------------------------------

   "So she became my mistress during the rest of my stay at Nakhodka,"
Admiral Gorshin told the Ensign.  "Such arrangements were not uncommon
there and quite tolerated by the authorities.  The whole establishment was
paid for by the Khlodovskys and once you were under their patronage, as we
were, you could do as you pleased."

   "Didn't this Aristocratic family insist on a certain, ah, moral
behaviour?" the Ensign asked.

   "The Khlodovskys were a large and influential family with many
connections to the Army and Navy.  In those days many young Officers, and
old ones for that matter, had mistresses and prostitutes.  Not discussed in
polite company, perhaps, but the Khlodovskys knew the way of it and turned
a blind eye.  All this high morality and decency we perhaps associate with
the ruling classes always was a pantomime for the masses.  Never was
true... then or now."

   "Comrade Premier Brezhniyev?" the young man volunteered.

   "Has never had a young devotchka blow his whistle under the desk?  Power
and money attracts sex, young man.  The Politburo gets their share, I'm
certain of it."

   "Sir, we shouldn't talk like that about..."

   "Oh why not!" spat the old Admiral, "there's too many damned secrets in
Russia.  What harm would it be to learn our leaders are human too?"

   "I suppose!  But surely it's a matter of respect."

   "I'll respect any man who proves he has a dick and uses it.  I don't
want to be governed by celibate priests and eunuchs.  Fortunately," he
chuckled," I can't see any danger of that happening."

   "No sir," the Ensign smirked.

   ------------------------------------------------

   Yulia moved into Yvgeny's room the next day.  She asked and he agreed
the morning after the birthday party as they lay in each other's arms.  Her
pussy was still drenched from their most recent coupling and Yvgeny's
wilting cock rested at her entrance.

   She'd held his hand against her breast as she burrowed her head under
his chin.

   "I should have met you 4 years ago," she'd told him, "then for for 4
years we could have woken up like this."

   "Hmm," he'd mumbled.

   "I hope they never send for you to go home.  Then we can hide here
till..."

   "I don't imagine they'll be in a hurry to bring us back," he'd replied,
"it's not as if there're a lot of ships left in the Navy to find crews for.
I'd imagine they'll draft me into the Marines."

   "You want to go to the Marines?"

   "Hell no!  They put me ashore and I'll desert, mark my words!"

   "So stay here," she'd said, "be my lover."

   "For the present," he'd told her, "that's not a bad option."

   He'd kissed her and ran his hands over her smooth, curvy body.  She'd
laughed when he'd played with her navel, jerked in surprise when he'd
pinched a nipple.

   She'd got out of bed to fetch some breakfast.  Yvgeny watched the twin
cheeks of her bottom wobble invitingly.  'Yes,' he thought, 'it's not a bad
way to spend a life.'

   KATZMAREK(C)