How it might have been in Gogol’s t

How it might have been in Gogol's time

Three versts outside our town,
a general's carriage breaking down
turned out a lucky thing for me,
as you will very shortly see.

Some of his party were billeted here.
They moved in with a barrel of beer.
They stayed on for a week and a quarter.
Each night vodka flowed like water.

And right outside here in the yard
I had a soldier of the Imperial Guard,
a well-hung corporal with a bearskin hat
lean and muscled, not an ounce of fat.

Dark-eyed he was with close-cropped hair.
I sat and watched him in despair.
He had large and full, wide-open eyes.
He was taller than me. What a pair of thighs!

What treasures lay hidden under those breeches?
How much I wanted to explore those reaches!
What jewels would be lying there to admire!
The very thought of them set me on fire.

One evening into the coach-house he slipped.
As I watched this happen my heartbeat skipped.
He looked back and gave me a beckoning nod.
I couldn't believe it. I gave thanks to God!

I was there in a flash. I went to the back.
He was in the room where we keep the tack.
He was completely naked except for his boots.
In an instant we were both in our birthday suits.

My eyes devoured his heavenly figure
His cock was large (though Dmitri's is bigger)
He was broad and strong with a gorgeous chest.
The sight of his muscles increased my zest.

A little breeze made the oil lamp flicker.
He had a bottle of Nikopolski liquor.
He took a swig and offered me some.
I declined the offer – I was still overcome.

It still seemed to me like a fantasy-fable!
He was leaning against the edge of the table.
I knelt before him and held his legs
His balls were the size of pheasants' eggs.

I took the hooded tip between my lips.
I shifted my hands to his powerful hips.
My tongue ran around and explored and licked.
My body was tingling, as though by needles pricked.

Into my mouth I slowly took his phallus.
He stroked my cheeks. His hands were calloused.
My body was shivering with excitement.
My cock didn't need any further incitement.

It was stiff and hard and quivering and oozing
I continued sucking. I couldn't help musing
on the source of the masculine musky scent.
I so wanted to fuck him. Would he consent?

I continued. He enjoyed the sensation.
But what would we use for lubrication?
Then through the window that looks out on the yard
I called "Selifan, go, fetch me a cup of lard".

As the sun was sinking in the west,
the dutiful servant obeyed my request.
Through the window he passed me a half-filled crock
of warmed up lard to grease my cock.

My companion lay back upon the table,
brought his legs back as far as he was able.
I rotated his buttocks up a little bit.
I had unimpeded access to his beautiful slit.

I smeared some lard into his hole
I smeared some over my throbbing pole.
With a blissful expression he lay back
and I eased my cock into his crack.

Oh! that unforgettable evening in September!
I felt his tight ring massage my member.
I began to jack him, for his own cock was hard,
glistening and shining and greasy with lard.

Then he climaxed and exploded on to his face.
My own upheaval was approaching apace.
I fucked him faster, held his legs, felt the rush.
Then gloriously my load into him did gush.

I collapsed on him. From me all energy was wrung.
He turned his face to mine and sucked my tongue.
We lay there enjoying the afterglow.
Then we both got dressed so outside we could go.

I took him to the kitchen, put the water on to boil.
I gave him some honeycakes with hemp-seed oil.
We sat and waited, buoyant with glee.
Selifan brought us a samovar of tea.