tagNovels and NovellasMy Russian Valentine

My Russian Valentine

bygeronimo_appleby©

A Valentine's contest entry from me, not that I expect much from this piece, but contest entries get put up quicker than regular submissions. This one started after I had the good fortune to be behind a hottie in a pink bikini as we walked along the beach the other week. It wasn't intentional, she just happened to be on a walk from one end of the beach to the other and I happened to be behind her. I got to thinking, and ...

Thus the embryonic scene was born. I started writing and it just got out of control. I added the blonde to the mix and then the nympho second sister-in-law came along.

Then it got messy.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the piece that I ended up with. It's a tad unbelievable, and I usually try to maintain an element of realism in the stuff I do, but I thought to hell with it and just filled my boots.

I appreciate feedback of the constructive kind. If you don't like a particular aspect of the scene then let me know. Also, if you particularly enjoyed the piece then I'd like to know that too.

There are likely to be typos and maybe errors in the text, if there are then please forgive me; I hope any fuck-ups don't detract too much from your enjoyment.

If you do send feedback, it can be by PM on Lit, Public Comment below, or email. If you want a reply or response then email is best -- but give me an address, I can't reply to anonymous.

OK, here it is.

GA -- Langkawi, Malaysia -- 20th of January 2013.

One -- The Bikini Princess


Four months had passed since I'd last seen her, my princess in her pink bikini. I'd missed her more than I'd have expected from a holiday romance -- if what we got up to could be called romance -- but the day had arrived at last, the day I'd see her again, all of her, lithe and naked and smiling. My cock swelled at the mere thought of the night that awaited me. It was February 14th, Valentine's day, and I was standing at the arrivals gate in the south terminal of London's Gatwick airport waiting for her to come through the doors.

Our meeting had been unconventional to say the least. I'd been on an extended trip around the world while Katia had been on a three week holiday with her family. I'd been sitting on a rocky outcrop between two beaches on an island in the Andaman Sea when I saw her and another woman -- who I'd discover was Katia's sister-in-law, one of them anyway -- approaching.

When they passed me the older one said something to the girl, who then glanced at me sitting there on the rocks. She giggled and muttered something to her older companion, something that made them both laugh. I shrugged to myself and watched their arses jiggle in their bikini briefs as they walked further along the beach, with my attention focussed on the younger one in bright pink.

It was another scorcher of a day, expected in this corner of South East Asia, and there were a fair number of sunbathers laid along the shore in varying hues from blue-white, lobster-red to mahogany-brown.

I sat on the rocks a few feet from the Andaman Sea, lulled by the rhythmic shush of the waves as they rolled onto the sands, breaking with effervescent regularity. I had little to do, an article to write, five thousand words, not too difficult, so I sat there and day-dreamed dirty thoughts about the two women in their bikinis.

As they receded into the middle distance towards the rocky, impassable outcropping at the far end of the beach, I wondered if I'd caught them on the return leg of their walk or if they'd pass by my position again. I looked forward in hope to the latter, especially since I wouldn't mind another look at the younger girl's backside in her pink bikini briefs. The older of the pair, a woman I'd estimated quickly to be in her early thirties was a cutie as well -- nice round boobs, quite big as they bulged in her bikini top, blonde hair pinned up so as not to spoil her suntan, slim and trim and tanned -- but it was the other one I had the hots for the most. I'd put her at about eighteen or nineteen, another blonde but with smaller tits, and hips that swayed with that oh-so-feminine roll as she walked away from me. There had been something in her eyes too, a hint of mischief that told me she was very probably a dirty bitch in bed.

Twenty minutes later, as a couple of jet-skis bounced past, their hulls slapping down onto the surface of the water, rooster tails of spray jetting from their rear ends, I saw the two women approaching.

"Morning, ladies," I said from my perch on the rocks.

They both stopped and the older one said something in a language I couldn't understand. Russian, I thought. The woman repeated her obla-bobla-kasputnik at me and walked on.

"Good morning," the younger one said in a heavy accent. She grinned at me from behind her sunglasses and gave a waggle of her fingers as she walked on after the older babe.

I saw them that evening as I passed by one of the myriad restaurants along the busy tourist strip. They were part of a group of seven. It looked like a family group to me: a couple who appeared to be in their sixties -- mother and father I deduced -- along with two men who bore a resemblance to the old man and had to be his sons. There were the two women I'd seen on the beach as well as another woman with long, dark hair and a facial expression that could curdle milk. In fact everybody looked a little glum as they sat there, with nobody speaking, nobody smiling.

The younger girl saw me and nudged the thirty-something blonde she'd been with on the beach. The girl waved and the blonde smiled shyly. The dark-haired woman caught the girl's wave, looked at me, and scowled.

Thank fuck she wasn't included in the morning stroll along the beach -- the sour-faced twat.

The next day, just on the off-chance, at the same time as previously, I was back on the rock wondering if the women would be making an appearance.

It wasn't very busy that day, the overcast sky keeping the beach bunnies close to their hotels and dorms in the hostels along the strip. One or two were out on their towels, die-hards who lay out on the sand if there was even a hint of a chance that the sun might make an appearance; but apart from the sprinkle of sunbathers I practically had the beach to myself.

It didn't look like my luck was in. Maybe they'd gone home, their holiday ended? Perhaps that was the reason for their long faces at the restaurant the previous night? Ah well, I decided. Never mind. It would have been nice to have clocked their lithe figures again, especially that girl's arse in her pink bikini.

I'd just decided to head along to one of the bars for a cold beer, it was just past eleven in the morning so I didn't count it as being too early for a cold one, but then I saw two figures in the distance. At first they were too far away to recognise, but I saw one was wearing a pink bikini and I began to hope.

As they drew closer I could see it was definitely them, the same pair as the previous day.

"Good morning, ladies," I said as they drew level, a shit-eating grin plastered stupidly to my grid.

They both stopped and the older one gave it the booble-vladivar talk again.

"Good morning," pink bikini replied.

The older one said something to the girl, cast me a look as though I'd just taken a shit right on the sand in front of her, and walked away.

I blinked and stared after the woman. "Something I said?" I asked the girl.

Pink bikini looked at me for a moment before glancing at the other woman. Her forehead creased as she returned her attention back to me. "I don't understand," she said slowly, as though English was a recent acquisition for her.

I pointed at the woman walking away from us. "She ... doesn't ... seem ... very ... happy," I responded slowly.

The girl tossed her head and I assumed she rolled her eyes, which I couldn't see because of her sunglasses. "She is not." The girl made a slicing motion with one forefinger over the other, rubbing them together several times. "She have fight with her husband. All the time they argue. Is nothing new." She gave a shrug as though the woman was always pissed off. The girl slipped the shades into her hair. She looked at me intently for several disconcerting seconds with pale blue eyes. "Where you from?" she asked.

"England," I replied.

"I am Russian." The girl eyed me, her head tilted. "Alone?" she asked. "Wife in hotel?"

"Alone," I confirmed. "No wife."

We both turned at the sound of the woman's voice coming to us from a couple of hundred metres away. The woman waved an arm.

"I should go," the girl said before she gave a confirmatory shout and a wave of her arm. Then, before she walked away she stared at me again with such intensity my cock thickened inside my shorts.

"Nice to see you," I said, lifting a hand in farewell.

"Yes," pink bikini replied as she moved off. She turned and caught me surveying her backside. She` grinned at me and waggled her fingers before she pulled the sunglasses over her eyes and walked away.

Of course I was still there on their return leg.

"Hello again, mister," the girl said as they approached.

She stopped, and I was pleasantly surprised to see the other one halt as well.

"Enjoy your walk?" I asked, keeping my speech clear and slow.

"Yes," the girl nodded.

"Does your friend feel better?"

The girl glanced at the other woman. She shrugged. "Yes, I think so." She hesitated a moment before continuing. "We talk about you as we walk."

"Oh?" I responded, caught by surprise by the revelation. "Good things, I hope."

The girl laughed. I was having trouble keeping my eyes off her body and I took the opportunity to give her a quick scan as she spoke to her friend.

The older woman replied and then the girl turned to face me. She tucked a stray, blonde tendril behind one ear. "We think why you here alone? With no wife. You good-looking guy."

That really floored me. Just what the hell had these two been saying about me?

I shrugged. "Divorced."

The girl translated quickly, and then asked, "How come?"

I thought this was a little too personal a little too quick, but what the hell, the longer I spoke to her the longer I could check out two sexy ladies. The older woman relaxed a little, resting with one hip cocked with her arms folded under her breasts. Her crossed arms caused her boobs to swell over the bikini top in a most eye-catching way.

"My wife ... Uhm ... I travel a lot for work. I write articles for travel magazines, do some research for tour companies. My wife decided when I was away one time that she liked my friend better than me."

"She go away with your friend?"

"Yep," I nodded.

There was a brief, rapid exchange in Russian.

"This is her problem also. Her husband is my brother. He make the fuck with the wife of our other brother. You see her last night when we all eat. Remember?"

I remembered the sour-faced woman glaring at me the night before as I passed by and the girl had waved. So that was the cause of the long faces in the restaurant. I should imagine one brother sticking it to the other's wife might spoil a holiday -- unless it was a swingers' holiday perhaps, which I assumed wasn't the case here.

The frank and intimate revelation startled me. These Russians didn't seem to care who they told about their marital problems. And they'd all sat down to dinner together. Not like me, I'd been reeling for months after I discovered my wife's affair with one of my oldest friends; I didn't understand how they could actually sit down at the table together without the wronged brother taking a swing at his errant sibling.

"That must be awkward," I said.

The girl looked at me, obviously not understanding what I meant.

"He must be crazy," I added. "The lady is too beautiful to be treated that way."

The girl smiled and told the other one what I'd said. The older woman smiled shyly and looked down at the sand between her feet.

She muttered something and the girl chuckled. "She says thank-you. That make her feel good. She feel like men don't like her anymore."

I felt a strange slide in the pit of my stomach as I pictured the woman naked. There was an odd, primal urge way down deep in some indefinable place -- not exactly my stomach and not entirely in my balls, a gnawing hunger for the older woman's body. It had been a long time since I'd slept with a woman, and this one's physical appeal had me yearning for a little comfort between her legs.

"I like her," I replied, my voice catching with desire.

It went oddly quiet between us then. The small waves broke on the beach with foamy regularity behind the two women while, between the three of us, I think we all sensed something that kept the words from our mouths.

The older woman spoke to the girl, probably seeing the expression on my face, curious as to what I'd said. She looked at me sharply when the girl interpreted. There was another pause and the older woman uncrossed her arms and scuffed sand with her toe. She glanced up at me, nudging the air with her chin as she spoke to the girl.

"She say your wife must be crazy too," the girl said.

"Thank you," I replied, then asked her: "What about you? Are you married?"

The girl guffawed and lifted the sunglasses from her eyes. "Are you crazy?" she responded, jabbering quickly to the other woman who also chuckled. "After seeing my brothers and my brother's wife ... No way. I not marry."

"Boyfriend?"

She nodded. "Of course." She gave a shrug that, to me, implied that a girl as hot as her always had a boyfriend. And of course she was right. "He back home. He not a good boyfriend. Too ... too ... He not fun. Always tell me what to do. Very mad if I talk to you like this."

"Ah, he's jealous."

I explained as best I could what I meant by jealous. The girl nodded vigorously. "Exactly," she grinned. "Not good. Make me scared when he go like that." She pulled a face to mimic her jealous boyfriend's anger.

"I can understand why he might feel that way," I responded. I couldn't help but glance at her tight breasts and the distinctive bulge of her mons in her bikini briefs. My voice caught on the thorn of lust again when I added, "You're a very pretty girl. Very attractive. If you were my girlfriend ..."

She stared at me intently. "Which of us is best?" she asked, indicating her sister-in-law with a pointed forefinger before pointing to herself. "Which is more sexy?"

The older woman said something then, probably wondering what all the talk and pointing was about. She'd most likely heard the catch in my voice too.

"I can't say," I replied. "You're just so hot," I nodded towards the girl, "but she's beautiful too."

"You like her big ..." The girl mimed large breasts with her hands.

The older woman said something quickly. What the fuck are you saying? I thought would be most likely. She looked at the girl quizzically after giving me a questioning glance.

"Well, yes," I replied to the girl's question. "But I liked looking at you when you walked away yesterday. Like today when you first went past. Your bottom. I liked seeing it."

The girl craned her neck and swivelled her torso as she looked down at her rear end. "This my bottom? You like it?"

The other woman began to babble away then. I got the distinct impression she wanted to leave. The girl replied in a harsh tone, gesturing towards me with her hands and jutting out her chin. I had no idea what the exchange was about, but I'd probably gone a bit too far, a little reckless with the lust suffusing in my nether regions.

"She ask what we talk about," the girl explained eventually. The older woman said something else and then walked off as the girl, with her eyes staying fixed on my face, called out a curt response to the woman's retreating figure.

I nearly fell off the rock I was sat on when the girl suddenly blurted: "You like to make fuck with me?"

I blinked rapidly several times. My mouth fell open. Had I just heard that?

"What?" I said, flustered.

"You like to make fuck with me?" And just to clarify, the girl calmly stretched the front of her bikini briefs down.

"Fucking hell," I breathed when I saw her vulva, plump and smooth nestled within.

The girl held the bikini bottoms away from her body for several long seconds. "You like me?" she asked after letting the bikini bottoms snap back into place.

I nodded, my eyes going to her face. "Very much," I croaked.

"I want to do the fucking. I am very ... hot." She cupped a hand between her legs to indicate just where she was feeling the heat.

My cock was rock hard for her. "Where?" I asked, my voice still hoarse. "Where do you want to go?" I was thinking back to my hotel room, but I might have a problem getting a young hottie in a pink bikini past the reception desk. She was kind of distinctive -- eye-catchingly so.

"Here," she replied.

I followed the girl around the rocks. We found a sheltered area between two huge stones. It was risky, but someone would have to walk right up to the gap at the back of the rocks to discover us. And I'd been sat there for over forty minutes without anyone passing by -- except for the two women that is. Besides, as much of a risk as it was, I was so fucking horny for the taut, nubile young woman that I would've fucked her out on the main road through the busy tourist strip in high season.

The girl walked into the small arena casually. She stopped in the centre and turned to face me. She slid her bikini bottoms down her legs and stood with her hands on her hips, totally uninhibited by her hear nakedness. The girl had every right to be proud of her physical appearance, she was fucking lovely.

"Fucking hell," I hissed with my eyes on stalks.

"You like me?" the girl grinned.

I went to her quickly, grabbing hold of her waist to pull her towards me. She gave a cry of laughter which I abruptly curtailed by kissing her mouth hungrily.

The girl moaned into my open mouth as her tongue slid around mine. My hands found her body, sliding over the skin of her back, down to her buttocks where my fingers kneaded pliant, youthful flesh.

She reached into my shorts, gasping when she felt me so ready for her.

I lay my shorts and tee-shirt out on the sand for her to lie on. The girl got down and immediately folded her legs at the knees and spread her thighs. She pointed her toes like a ballerina as she grinned up at me, lying on her back, resting on her elbows.

"I am so hot here," she said, leaning to one side slightly as she brought a hand to the petals of her sex to splay the lips and expose her scarlet core.

"You're beautiful," I groaned, unable to resist cranking at my dick while I stared down at the girl exhibiting herself.

"You want me to suck?" she offered, pointing to my jutting erection.

"I'll probably just come all over you a soon as you touch it," I replied.

She laughed and opened her legs further. "You kiss me." She dabbed a finger at her opening. "Here. You kiss me here." Her finger slid over the tight nub of her clitoris. "And here," she added.

The girl moaned when I lapped at her clit. She muttered something in Russian while I probed at her opening -- she could have been reciting a shopping list for all I knew, but to hear the girl babbling away like that just sounded so sexy.

"Is nice," she sighed.

I moved away from between the girl's legs. I wanted to see her tits and suck on them; I wanted to kiss her and finger her until I had her gasping and writhing.

She sat up and slipped the bootlace straps of her bikini top over her shoulders. Leaving the thing fastened she just pushed it over her narrow brisket to reveal her apple-sized breasts. Kneeling in the sand I leaned down and sucked at one upturned nipple, swirling my tongue over the swelling before doing the same to the other. I kissed the girl's mouth, my fingers between her legs exploring the slippery folds of her labia before I slid a forefinger inside her.

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