To Russia for Love

As his teeth pressed into the sensitive flesh just below my balls my cock continued to ejaculate, adding an odd hint of pain to the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling. As he bit harder, my subsiding orgasm suddenly intensified. I couldn't stifle the pleasure filled scream that leapt free of my throat. He reached up and covered my mouth with his hand while continuing to press his teeth into my skin. I felt his fingers take hold of my cock as his teeth broke into my flesh.

I felt woozy and in the darkness began to wonder if I was dreaming. Pleasure and pain mixed, making me feel like Sergey was torturing me with both. My cock was so sensitive I wanted to jerk it free of his fingers. But I couldn't. Any attempt to pull away from his face would have left a piece of my flesh behind.

"God, please, no more," I begged in what I could tell sounded more like a cry of pure bliss.

He ignored the words and went with the inflection. He continued to hold my cock in his fingers while sucking the blood from my leg. I all but prayed for my cock to go soft so that he would be forced to release me. But my erection was as strong as if I had not cum in days. I opened my mouth and bit into the hand that was covering my face. He seemed oblivious to the pain I knew he must have felt in his hand. As he stroked my cock sending me back near the heights, I bit harder. The pleasure was becoming more painful to me than the biting of my thigh. I wanted him to stop and my only weapon was the pain I could cause him.

But my actions seemed to have the opposite effect. As I bit harder into his hand he jerked my cock harder. I tasted his warm blood just before I came for a second time. I had to release his hand as I was gasping for air. Thankfully, he let go my cock and withdrew his teeth from my thigh. His lips found mine and we kissed. As soon as I had recovered I found his crotch with my hand. My plan to return the favor turned out to be unnecessary. The front of his cloth pants were soaked with his cum. He told me that he had ejaculated twice already and needed rest before he could continue. Then he did what I would have found to be a strange thing any other time. He brought his still bleeding finger to my lips. Sergey smeared the slowly trickling fluid onto my lips and then I happily sucked his blood into my mouth.

"Mmmmmmmm, I hoped you would turn out to be a vampire," He murmured as he snuggled up against me.

I fell asleep with that thought ringing in my ears. When I awoke, the sun was up and light was streaking in through the cracks in the old barn walls. I was able to make out my surroundings for the first time, which would have interested me had I not had an annoying ache in my leg. When I examined my thigh I discovered small cuts that were crusted over with dried blood. In addition to the cuts the area was badly bruised. For a moment I considered the possibility that Sergey was in fact a supernatural creature that I knew was only found in works of fiction. However, when he awoke and I saw his smiling face beaming at me, I knew he could not be a real vampire.

I did however wonder what he believed he was. He had clearly feasted on my blood after drinking my cum and the memory of being fed his blood flooded my mind with dark thoughts. Was he a member of some cult, I wondered. As I looked back into his amazing warm eyes, I thought about the couple he had slept with on our journey and considered that they might be a part of the cult. I am sure I sounded quite foolish when I asked him if he really thought that he was a vampire.

"Of course not, babe. But I have enjoyed blood play for awhile now and your blood is intoxicatingly delicious. Drinking the blood of a real lover turns out to be the ultimate. Did you enjoy mine?"

I was too shocked to answer his question. I was also very worried about the wound on my leg.

As if reading my mind he said, "Don't worry, lover, it looks worse that it is. No permanent damage."

"You have done this shit before?"

"I have only bitten into two other people like that. But I have tasted the blood of several others. Usually the cuts are made with knives not teeth. Haven't you wondered about the cuts on my shoulders?"

I had assumed the scars on his body were the result of construction accidents.

"I could not have imagined such a thing," I said truthfully.

"Perhaps not, but you can not deny the pleasure you got from extracting and drinking my blood," He said as he held up his bruised and cut hand.

His hand looked worse than my leg. I was appalled to see that I had done that much damage to the man I loved. But worse, I could not deny that it was part of the pleasure I had felt.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled.

"You have no reason to be. I do not think I ever came as hard as I did when your teeth broke my flesh," He said earnestly as he removed his shirt

He reached for me and I let him pull my head to his shoulder. Even through two days growth of beard I could feel the raised scars and the recently formed scab on his flesh. I knew I was right in my suspicions about the couple he had slept with. I wondered how much more there was.

"I couldn't tell you. I didn't know how," He whispered as he caressed my head. "I love you."

I nuzzled my cheek against his shoulder with my mouth near his neck. He seemed to tilt his head as if offering his juggler to me. Instead of biting him, I moved my head over and kissed his exposed throat.

"I love you," I sighed as I closed my lips tightly on his skin.

I began to suck upon his flesh as I had once done to girls. I hoped that a hickey might somehow satisfy his need to be bitten.

"Oh god, more please, take my blood," He moaned.

My mouth was on his shoulder, just at the base of his neck. I could feel the softness of his flesh and knew it would be easy to break the skin with my teeth. I had desires that would have disgusted me only days earlier. I felt my cock grow as I let my teeth graze over his soft skin.

"Oh fuck yes, do it lover. Please take my essence and make it a part of you," He begged in a seductive tone.

Instinctively I closed my teeth onto his skin. I felt the warmth of his blood an instant before it hit my taste buds. It was sweet and salty at the same time. As he had said of mine it was also intoxicating. I bit deeper and then used my tongue to capture the sticky fluid oozing from my lovers skin. As I drank from the fresh wound he took my hand and guided it to his throbbing cock. I was intent on what I was doing I hadn't noticed him opening his pants and releasing his engorged cock.

"Oh god, that's it baby!" He cried out.

I stroked his thick hard cock as I drank more of his crimson ambrosia. All of my concerns and thoughts about bizarre behavior had vanished. Sinking my teeth into the flesh of my lover seemed the most normal activity I could do. I could tell from the way his cock was jerking in my hand that he was close to orgasm. I wanted that fluid too. I took my mouth off of his shoulder and pushed him onto his back. I pounced upon him and began to suck his cock like my life depended upon making him cum. My life was in no danger. Within a minute his cock was spewing a thick stream of semen into my mouth. It slid down my throat to mix with his blood in my belly. When his cock was done feeding me, I crawled up and kissed his smiling face.

"Thank you," He murmured as he reached for my incredibly hard cock.

The instant his fingers touched my shaft a jolt of intense pain shot through my body. The back of his hand was pressing into my thigh wound. I cried out and he released my dick as I jerked away.

"Oh, god, I'm sorry! I forgot; I wanted to give you pleasure so much," He said clearly concerned about my pain.

"How about we try something else? I am sure I can make you cum without touching your cock," He declared boldly.

My need for release was so great I was willing to try most anything and asked him what he had in mind. He instructed me to get on my hands and knees and then moved behind me. I felt his hands gently spread my buttocks and his hot breath on my on my back. As he moved his face toward my ass, it was like I had a panting dog behind me. His next move sent pleasure shooting up my spine. He was lapping at my asshole like it was spewing sweet candy. As he pushed his tongue inside me his fingers moved to my ball sack. I moaned appreciatively in response to his tongue and fingertips. He tongued fucked me until I was dizzy. My asshole was soft and wet by the time he replaced his tongue with his long thick index finger. He found my prostate like a skilled physician doing an exam. But his touch was not clinical.

It only took a few minutes of having my inner button stimulated to send me over the edge. I prayed no one was near the old barn when I cried out, expressing the ecstasy I felt. I figured the cum I deposited on the floor of the loft would never be noticed amidst the layers of filth. When it was over and he withdrew his finger, I fell onto my side, panting like a wounded beast.

"I told you, I could give you an orgasm, my love," He said as he lay down beside me.

I could only smile to express my appreciation. My breathing was far too ragged for coherent speech. After I recovered we dressed in the new clothes left for us and ate. Then we bedded down. We had no idea what the coming night and following days held in store for us. My training had taught me to take advantage of rest when time and circumstances permitted. Though I was not so sure of our safety in that old barn, we did have time to kill.

Sometime after sunset we were awaken by a middle aged man who to my relief spoke the correct phrases that identified him as our next contact. He spoke in Russian until I offered the counter signals in Ukrainian. Though Sergey's Ukrainian was not as good as mine he managed to catch our new guide's meaning. He apologized for the fact that we would have to walk a few kilometers to reach motorized transportation. The walking didn't concern me. His other news did. We would be traveling south instead of west. When Sergey asked why, the man said that he was not privy to the reason and we would have to wait for our next contact for an explanation. Since we had already traveled a roundabout route, I was not as apprehensive about the change in plans as my training dictated that I should be. However, Sergey's body language told me that he was very concerned.

But we had little choice in the matter. Besides it didn't make sense that we were being set up. The barn seemed a perfect place to kill us if that was the intent. It took a couple of hours to reach the rendezvous point. An old beat up car of Eastern European origin driven by a gregarious man that looked to be at least seventy was to be our ride. The driver was happy to reveal the new plan and reason for the change. Whoever made the decisions had decided that an east west route was too long. Though the United States has diplomatic missions in Eastern Europe, my closest agency contact was in Munich Germany. That would mean making a trek of many hundreds of miles across the Ukraine, Poland and the Czech Republic. Instead we would be making the relatively short journey to the Black Sea. From there we would be taken by fishing boat to Turkey.

The plan seemed perfect to me. I even wondered if somehow my agency was directing things. We had a large presence in Turkey and there were many contacts I could turn to. Sergey didn't know about these contacts and expressed great concern about his people not having a network there. Our driver told us that we were on our own once the fishing boat dropped us on the Turkish coast. I assured Sergey that I had friends in Turkey. The trip through the Ukrainian country side on back roads was uneventful except for the jarring bumps in the mostly unpaved roads we used. It was still dark when we arrived in the small village of Voloshyne. We spent the day there and then traveled to the coast to meet the fisherman that was to take us to the relative safety of Turkey.

Even on a clear night with the moon shining upon it the Black Sea lived up to its name. I stood on the small dock looking out over what appeared to be an endless expanse of dark and foreboding water. The small fishing boat that bobbed alongside the dilapidated wooden platform hardly seemed up to the task of crossing such an abyss. But what had been the case since Sergey and I began our journey was still true; we had no choice but to trust those who were helping us. As the Vikings that first traveled to North America did over a thousand years earlier, we climbed aboard a boat and set out to cross what was to me a vast unknown sea. Though I had no thoughts that we might encounter a sea monster, I knew the dangers were many.

The boat captain gave us a more detailed explanation of the journey once we were at sea. The nearly 300 mile crossing would take over 48 hours. During the day we would have to anchor and pretend to be ordinary fishermen. The Black Sea is a busy place and we could not risk arousing suspicion by cruising at top speed in the daylight. Two days aboard a 25 foot fishing boat that barely looked seaworthy was a daunting prospect. Less daunting however than the idea of dying while being tortured by butchers employed by Russian arms merchants. The captain and his mate took turns sleeping and helming the boat. Sergey and I had become used to sleeping during the day and being up at night. He and I dosed some, but mostly we sat apart in the back of the boat with only our thoughts for entertainment.

My thoughts were centered on the discovery that my lover was a sexual vampire. The most troubling thing about that was my having become so aroused while drinking his blood. In a short time I had gone from a straight man that had relatively tame sexual tastes to an extremely kinky homosexual.

"Was I really gay?" I wondered as the boat sailed through the darkness.

I still found the idea of sex with women appealing. I assumed if I was really gay that I would be repulsed by straight sex. Then again a few days earlier I would have told you sucking blood during sex was repulsive. I was in conflict and had no one to talk to about my feelings. Even if we were alone I wasn't sure that Sergey would have been good choice for such a discussion. He clearly loved sexual blood drinking. I on the other hand was silently berating myself for having enjoyed being bitten and drinking blood. I couldn't imagine sharing those thoughts with anyone ever.

I spent the next day on the opposite end of the boat from Sergey, tending a fishing pole. Fortunately, the boat captain was watching to make sure I did not ignore any bites on my line. Equally fortunate was his reeling in those fish that managed to get hooked on my line. That night I was exhausted and fell into a deep sleep soon after sunset. It was a very welcome sleep that finally squelched my lamentations over the vampire issue. Oddly, I had a dreamless sleep that only came to an end when the younger fisherman shook me out of my stupor.

The next day I got more into the fishing and actually reeled in a couple on my own. The younger of our hosts offered a great deal of praise when I brought in the first of my fish. His enthusiasm and the way he seemed to deliberately press his body against mine made me think that something interesting might have happened under different circumstance. But even if the fishermen were both gay and I wasn't with my lover I couldn't imagine having sex. At that point we all smelled of sweat and fish. I was certain that sucking any cock in that boat would leave a very unpleasant taste in my mouth. I slept well again that night.

However, it was a short sleep. Long before dawn, Sergey and I were awoken. When I sat up I could see small waves breaking on a shoreline some distance from the boat. We were to swim the rest of the way. Though I was skeptical, I took the older man's word that it was only a couple hundred meters to shore. Not that it matter since it was crystal clear that the boat was going no closer to the deserted beach. Sergey and I were instructed to strip to our underwear. The younger fisherman placed our clothes and shoes in a plastic lined oilcloth bag. By the time we reached shore I was very glad that we had not tried to swim fully dressed. Despite the cold water, I was certain things would have been worse if I had been burdened with wet clothing. When we reached the beach we quickly made for the tree line.

"Now what?" He asked me in English.

"First we see how dry this sack kept our clothes," I said as I opened the bag.

I was pleased to discover that the bag was far more effective that I had imagined. There were some damp spots, but the clothes were dry enough to wear. I chose to shed my soaking wet underwear and Sergey followed suit. We stood motionless, for a minute, in the nude. I guess we were both having similar thoughts. It had been awhile and I wanted him. But we were not in safe place and the sea hadn't really washed away the body odor and fish scent that had kept me from pursuing the fisherman's advances.

"Doug, have I done something wrong?" He asked as I pushed a foot into my pants. "You hardly spoke to me on the entire voyage."

I thought the question odd, considering that he had not initiated any conversation with me either.

"No not really, the blood thing has been weighing on my mind, some. But, I have only been reticent because of the proximity of our hosts. What about you? Are you alright? You didn't have much to say while we were at sea either."

"Like you I was uncertain of what to say in front of our hosts, though I am certain that the younger one was keen to get a hold of your cock. More than that though, I am overwhelmed by my feelings for you. It scares me to be so attached to anyone. Now it scares me that I will lose you over my tastes. I thought you enjoyed what we did."

"I did, but I don't understand why."

"Who really knows why we enjoy things?" He asked as I buttoned up my shirt.

"This is not the time or place for philosophical discussions. We need to figure out where we are and where we are going to go."

"I am sorry, you're right. But I am afraid there will not be any more time for us once you're back with your people. How do we find your people?"

"I have several possible contacts in Turkey. Once we figure out where we are, then I will know which is closest. As for there not being another time for us; I want there to be. I am not ready to lose you any more than you are me."

It turned out that we had come ashore near the small town of Doganyurt in an area filled with Black Sea resorts that catered to wealthy western Europeans. It wasn't a particularly good place to find help. Because of the season there weren't many visitors, but there were still enough non-Turks around that a pair of foreigners would not rouse suspicions. Our best hope of contacting the agency was in the Turkish capital, Ankara, which was about 120 miles to the south. It would have taken far too long to walk. Fortunately, in the bag with our clothes, Sergey's associates had provided fake passports and some Turkish money. We were able to pay for transportation.

Two days later I walked into the American embassy with Sergey and said the code words I had memorized before being dropped off in an alley in Moscow. In minutes Sergey and I were led out of the public area of the embassy. As I had expected we were separated. I have no idea what they did with him while I was being interrogated in an effort to confirm my identity. An hour later my questioner was satisfied and left me alone. A few minutes after that, a man that identified himself as my contact from the agency came into the room.

He told me that they had followed my movements to the Ukrainian border but had lost contact. Since I was expected to show up in Poland or Western Europe it was surprising when I walked into the embassy in Turkey. I explained the change of plans and expressed my surprise that the agency did not have a hand in the escape. He agreed that the change of plans was a good move and told me that the agency had been involved with the Russians that helped us, but not the Ukrainians. Then he initiated a long frank discussion about my relationship with Sergey. He clearly knew about the sexual relationship and I was forth coming about my emotional attachment even though I was fairly certain it meant the end of my career as a spy.