Chapter 4

They left and Lara shut and locked the door.

The room was a quiet reprieve from the living room party. The loud bass from the stereo thumped against the wall. Laughter and loud ceaseless pink noise of music and muffled conversations made the bedroom feel like a secret cloister. But soon knocking came at the door, then an aggressive jiggling of the doorknob. “Hey girls, are you in there? Come on, let us in! We want to hang out.”

It was Jan. He spoke in English with a bad faux-American accent.

Lara shook her head at me and put a finger to her lips. The knocking and jiggling didn’t stop. I began to be nervous.

“Do you know these guys?” I whispered to Lara.

“No,” she whispered back.

“Then why are they here?” I complained.

When it was apparent, they wouldn’t give up, she shouted against the door, “Get lost, arschlöcher!”

An eye appeared in the keyhole, appearing crazed and intent. I gasped and jumped backwards at the sight of it. She blew hard into the keyhole. A loud yelp on the other side.

For a moment it seemed like they had left. But then a loud thump against the door and the door shuddered so strongly that dust fell from the ceiling. Then another thump.

“What are we going to do?” I cried out.

Calmly, Lara walked over to a nightstand where her purse sat open.

“Come here,” she instructed. I went. The door crashed open, and the two men barged in, looking fierce and intent, wide grinning smiles baring teeth like wolverines. They swung the door closed behind them. One of them propped a chair against the door handle and they approached us.

But then, a silver-nickel flash to my side. I turned and found a revolver leveled at them. Lara stood broadly, both hands on the pistol with a steady aim. They both stopped in their tracks and put their hands up, their shoulders drooping, their faces turned pale.

“I believe it is time for you to leave,” she said to them.

They started backing up slowly. One fumbled trying to get the chair loose from the door.

A grin grew on her face, and a fire set in her eyes. She said, “Wait. Take off your shirts and pants.”

The guys looked at each other quizzically then to Lara and me. One smirked and started removing his clothes. Lara pointed the gun at the other one and, in a cooing voice, said, “Und du, mein liebling.”

He nodded and slowly removed his and said, “How about you lower your gun and I’ll let you play with mine?”

“Perhaps. Why don’t you remove your little panties, so we see what we are dealing with first.”

The men, amused now, removed their underwear.

“Oh God no.” I turned my head as their cocks came out.

“Well, how about it, Schatz?” The same man who spoke earlier asked.

“No. Not my style. But thank you for showing us. Now you can get lost.”

She cocked her gun. “I’m not going to repeat myself.”

They bent down to pick their clothes up. Lara tsked at them. “Leave it.”

So, they stumbled out backwards, bare naked, covering themselves as best they could with their hands. The crowd in the living room, oblivious to the showdown in the bedroom, laughed and cheered them as they ran for the exit.

Weak kneed, I sat down in a daze on the bedside. Lara shut the bedroom door, placed the pistol back into her purse and sat next to me. Her transient toughness evaporated. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll have to find out who brought those creeps to my party.”

She put an arm around me. “Are you alright?”

“You have a gun,” I stated.

“Why do you have a gun?”

“For moments like this. Aren’t you glad that I did?”

I shuffled away from her. “Your friends say you are Russian. Is that true?”

“My father is Russian.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I suppose because it hasn’t come up.”

“Lara, we can’t do this.”

“Chrissake, Lara. I’m an American working at the US embassy. Don’t you think that’s an issue?”

I shook my head at her then walked over to the window and looked out over the brilliant amber lights of the city. The steeple of Saint Stephen’s cathedral reached into the sky, lit like a votive candle. It was past midnight, and the city was yawning, stretching into sleep.

“You know we can’t meet anymore, right?”

“Because you’re probably a…”

She raised an eyebrow.

“A fucking spy,” I completed.

I imagined her reacting to this suggestion in a way to feign ignorance or refusal. But she didn’t.

“Yes, I can see why you would think that.”

“Then you understand why we can’t do this.”

“Are you afraid that I might seduce you to sell state secrets?”

She scoffed. “I’m not so dangerous.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you. But even if you aren’t. There are rules. I’ll have to report my interaction with you. I’m sorry, Lara. I really like you, but it’s not worth the risk.”

“Are you still reading Doctor Zhivago?” She asked.

I didn’t look back at her, but I responded, “I am.”

“Do you know why it’s banned where I’m from?”

“No. Why is it banned?”

“I haven’t the slightest idea.”

“Don’t they tell you?”

“Well… what do they say?”

“It is not Soviet art. That’s what they say. Does that make sense to you?”

“That’s life in the Soviet Union.”

“Terrible. Ok. I’m going now.”

She stood abruptly from the bed. “I don’t want you to go,” she said.

“I have to go, Lara. I’m sorry.”

“You’re right, Kirby. I am KGB.”

I looked at her, first, incredulously, then with a spitting disgust. “Ugh. Why the fuck did you tell me that? You really screwed me, Lara.”

“I told you because I promise I won’t make you do anything you do not want to do.”

“God, that was a joke! I’m out of here.”

She moved to the door, blocking it, moving so quickly, it gave me a fright. I backed up, hitting the wall. “Don’t touch me, Lara. I’m warning you,” I said. My voice trembled. She moved towards me. I shrunk into the corner of her bedroom, about to scream out for help, but unsure if anyone would come to my rescue, or if it would mean certain death.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Kirby. I will let you leave if that’s what you want. I just want one thing from you.”

Her hands were clasped tightly together. A nervousness in her eyes. She appeared vulnerable. I felt sympathy for that vulnerability. So, I conceded to her this one thing.

“Ok,” I agreed. “A kiss.”

I straightened, sliding up the silken wallpaper. A siren wailed outside. She stepped closer, breathed in, held it in anticipation, bit her bottom lip. I closed my eyes as she drew in and I smelled her familiar citric scent and felt the heat from her body. Her lips touched mine. I clenched mine shut and found myself fighting a terrible battle to keep them shut, but I couldn’t resist very long. In spite of it all, I enjoyed her lips too much. My mouth opened. I let her tongue enter and I sighed a shuddering bliss and screamed a silent ‘why?’.

As the kiss continued it grew more passionate. My hands went up, first to find her hips, then up her back, then through her hair. We kissed messily, breathlessly. My chest pounded. My pussy burned. My unconscious mind continued its screaming protest of this flagrant violation of my scruples, but I was so overcome by a sweeping, pleasurable gratification that to act against the physical instinct seemed futile.

Her breathing was loud, excited. Her hands touched my legs just above my knees. Her fingers traced slowly up my thighs, hiking my skirt up, until her fingers reached the thin waistband of my panty. She curled a forefinger around the band, pulled out and let it snap back to my skin. Then her fingers continued their journey. To the top of my legs, my abdomen. To my breasts. Her fingers had been there before, so they didn’t linger long. They continued up, to my neck, then to my mouth. We stopped kissing to catch our breaths. I opened my eyes momentarily and gazed catatonically into hers.

She slid her finger into my mouth. I wrapped my mouth around it and sucked. She moved it in and out, rhythmically, mimicking the thrusting motion of a cock. She pulled the wet finger out and raked it down my front, down between my breasts.

She sensed my aching desire for her, so she went to relieve it, kissing down my body. She kissed my neck, my collarbone, then between my breasts. Gently, she moved the straps of my dress off my shoulders and rolled them down to expose my breasts to her. I looked down on her. Her beautiful face between my breasts, her lips moist with saliva. She looked up at me, her eyes glimmering with excitement.

“I’ve never been with a girl before,” I confessed.

“Perfect,” she responded. “I will show what you didn’t know you were missing.”

Her lips went to one of my erect nipples, her eyes still locked on mine. My muscles tighten, as her lips formed around my nipple. I let out a squeal as she sucked. Her lips went to my other nipple, her tongue raspy against my sensitive nipple.

“Your breasts are perfect,” she exclaimed.

She spoke as if to emphasize the voluptuousness of her accent. She didn’t stay for long on my breasts. She couldn’t wait to taste more of me. She went down further, kissing down my abdomen.

“No, wait!” I cried out. “I can’t.”

“Of course, you can,” she replied simply. Without giving me an opportunity to act on my protest, she lifted the hem of my skirt and put her head within. She kissed the inside of my thighs, and, moving aside my panty, kissed the top of my vulva, then slid her tongue between my folds. I whimpered. My knees buckled. I braced my back strongly against the wall so I wouldn’t slide to the floor.

“You are wet. You want it.”

With her fingers, like a pair of scissors, she pulled apart my folds, then her tongue pressed against my clit, sending off fireworks in my head. I covered my mouth to stifle my moan.

“Oh, fuck!” I cried.

My muscles tightened. My back arched. My legs now spread apart on their own accord to give her access to my moist fruit, to let her taste me fully and suck me dry. Her fingers penetrated me as she licked me. She synchronized the penetrating thrusts with the lapping motion of her tongue. My pussy tightened and convulsed in anticipation of the orgasm. She felt the vibrations and followed my bodily convulsions, going faster with her fingers, and her tongue. My fingers curled into the back of her skull, pressing her face deeply against my pussy, until the pleasure became too much to bear. I exploded in a sudden ecstasy, like I have never felt before.

Her face emerged from under my skirt, glistening with my wetness. A wicked, devilish smile on her face. Every muscle fiber in my body relaxed. I let myself slide down the wall until I sat, breathless.

“I can’t remember the last time I had an orgasm like that. Maybe never.”

She sat next to me, nuzzled her face into my neck, kissed my ear, then my cheek.

“Now you owe me one,” she said.

She slid slowly out of her dress until she was completely naked. She stood up and stepped back to give me a full view of her body. Everything about it was perfect, from her sharply curved breasts to her softly tufted vulva. She turned her back to me and slinked to the foot of her bed. on the other side of the room. She leaned, resting her hand on the bed frame, back to bend her heart-shaped ass over enough to display the pink sliver of her pussy. She motioned me over with her head, inviting me to taste her.

I stood wavering as if drunk. It all seemed so funny and light, like a crazy dream. How the hell did I end up here with an admitted KGB spy who had just brought me to orgasm? It could only be a dream. So, I acted as if in a dream. I went to her. I kissed the back of her neck. Then her shoulder, and down her curved spine, biting her soft ass cheeks.

“Mmmm,” she responded.

I went to my knees, put my head between her thighs.

“Oh, you’re not so shy now!” she exclaimed. “You want to taste me, don’t you, Kirby?”

“Then taste me. Make me cum.”

I remembered the moment I lost my virginity. It was Freshman year at college. I had drunk too much cheap beer. I took the cutest guy I could get my hand on up to my room. A part of me didn’t want to do it. It seemed tiring. Like it was some catechism that I needed to go through in order to fit into my sorority. It was underwhelming. It felt weird. Wrong almost, but not in any moral way, just unnatural, uninspiring. Underwhelming according to my expectations. Paul, for his part, tried, but in all honesty, he didn’t do it for me either. I just assumed then, that sex just wasn’t my cup of tea. Boy, was I wrong. And by that, I mean, I should have tried a girl a long time ago.

Lara shuddered, tensed, as my tongue slid between her wet folds. Her sex was pungent. Not a pleasant taste, but I loved it anyway.

“Oh!” she gasped. “Yes, that’s good. Just like that.”

Encouraged, I slid my tongue deeper into her. She started rubbing her clit. Her pussy loosened. She pushed back against me. Her sticky juices smeared against my face.

Before long, the tremors came. She braced herself against the chair. The chair rattled against the wooden floor with every pulse of pleasure that coursed through her body. For a second, I thought the sound might draw the attention of the people in the other room. Oh, I forgot about them. It excited me to think that they might hear and know that I was making hot love to their beautiful and dangerous hostess.