Voucher to Truskavets

All of the following took place at the time of the sunset of stagnation in the USSR, when people had not yet had a chance to taste the so-called freedom and openness of information, and the only things on the shelves in stores were jars of huge cucumbers, packets of bay leaf, and packets of bad Georgian tea. The factory committees distributed all vacation packages and scarce goods, but the rest had to be found at thrift shops or on the black market for a lot of money, and sex, as you know, did not exist at all.

Vera came to Truskavets on a package deal, having sent her husband and five-year-old son to stay at the Black Sea. At first nothing foretold a storm. She loved her husband, they had sex regularly when she wanted it, her husband always made it up to her, so she did not have, and could not have, any plans that women sometimes hatch when they go to the resort. She believed that no sense walking away from a good, and it is even more risky, since you may lose everything has been achieved so far. Vera was by profession an engineer-physicist, and her analytical brain can immediately determine what to expect from a particular man, so she was not afraid to fall for the fishing rod of fans "to fish" on the side.

The sanatorium was situated in a spa park, which was good in terms of the availability of pump rooms with mineral water, you could walk to them, walking along its alleys. The upper pump room was a little closer than the central one. Accommodation in the sanatorium was usual: a block of two single rooms with a vestibule, where there were doors of two premises one of which was a toilet with washbasin and the other one has a shower stall again with a washbasin. The room had a closet, a bed and a table with two chairs. In general, nothing special too.

Having put out her things, showered from the trip, she washed her clothes, hung them to dry on the loggia, which was the only one in the block, and went to the city center, which was about a mile away, to explore, past the central pump room.

In Truskavets she was for the first time, she usually went to Yessentuki, and she liked the city for its architecture and the abundance of greenery. It was not surprising, since it was early autumn, and the trees had not yet had time to change color, although a slight purple was already observed. There were few shops, a restaurant and a few cafes, and she could see no discos or other amusements.

'Alone will probably be boring', she thought, and for the first time regretted that she had no husband with her. However, the child was nowhere to go anyway, her mother never wanted to stay alone with her grandson for fear of responsibility, and her mother-in-law refused this time, too. Again, it was not easy to get a ticket, so that "husband by her side" it was from the realm of fantasy.

That evening she met her roommate, Nina Yegorovna, a forty-seven-year-old teacher from Syktyvkar, and asked where she could iron her clothes. When she was told that there was a room with an iron and an ironing board on the floor, Vera grabbed her underpants, bra, and nightgown, which had already dried, and her tracksuit, which was rumpled and crumpled in her suitcase, and left the room. She quickly found the utility room at the end of the hallway, where some woman was already ironing the laundry, and after waiting a moment, she got hold of the iron. When she was finished, a young, athletic-looking guy of about thirty or thirty-five years of age walked in with a bag under his arm, looking like an Italian, like they do in the movies. This type of man attracted Vera and she fixed her gaze on him for a moment, then continued her work.

"Victor," she heard a pleasant deep voice.

"Excuse me?" she looked up and saw that the "Italian" was staring at her.

"My name is Victor, and what is yours?" He introduced himself, still looking at her intently.

"Vera."

"And how long have you been here, Vera?"

"I just arrived."

"Well, how do you do?" The young man rejoiced, "It's my first day here, too. This is fate!"

"What do you mean?" Vera said as coldly as possible. She was not at all enthusiastic about possible molestation. She valued comfort more than anything else, and was not going to make any unnecessary acquaintances.

"Only that it was a clear sign that we wouldn't have to look for someone else."

"No," Vera snorted, "I'm not going to look for anyone, I've got everything."

"Husband?"

"And a son."

"Well, I'm also married, and I have children. It's only for the best, there's less chance of picking up what you don't want, and there's no reciprocal obligations."

"Are you that frank with everyone?" Vera grinned as she gathered up the ironed laundry and walked past the impudent young man.

"And what's the big deal, it's a common thing. And it's also good for your health," he almost shouted the last in her back, but Vera did not listen to him, although some of the strings he touched in her, perhaps. First of all, his exterior and... She found it difficult to define, but still, probably, sex appeal. He was markedly different from her husband, whom she loved very much, and who was a good man, but rational and without that sparkle in his eyes. And then, the voice... Victor's voice had such a timbre that it mesmerized her and caused her body to faint and tremble. That was why she tried to put him out of her mind as soon as possible and decided to avoid further meetings.

***

The next day passed very hectic; she had doctors' appointments, medical procedures, and routines, with a small lunch break in the fairly good canteen. There she saw Victor again, entertaining his tablemate, a blonde in her thirties, with conversation. He must have been joking, for the blond was laughing happily at his remarks. Either unintentionally or intentionally, he never once looked in her direction, which left an unpleasant residue. 'Well, that's good', she thought, 'less trouble'. But there was a worm in her soul. Why had he chosen that blonde? What was wrong with her?

She ate a quick meal and went back to the doctor's office.

The next day on her way to the pump room she had no more memories of that meeting, enjoying the walk in the park, the clean air, the singing of birds and gentle rays of the sun, which broke through the cloudiness so frequent here at this time of year. Already approaching the pump room, she heard a crackling sound in the bushes, and the young man fell out of them right in front of her, holding out a rose with the words:

"To the most delicate woman, the most delicate flower! " and fell down on one knee. Vera was not too fond of roses, but the sign of attention was pleasant, in spite of some insolence in its expression. She accepted the rose, after which it would have been quite indecent not to support the conversation, which he immediately started:

"Where are you from?" Vera was slightly offended by this sudden switch to close communication, and she answered discreetly:

"From near Chelyabinsk, but we did not drink on the brotherhood."

"Oh, no problem, let's have a drink right now. Come on, I have some in my room."

"I do not drink with strange men."

"So let's get acquainted! What's each other's name we already know, where we live we'll find out soon, and if there are any other questions, go ahead, say it."

"Who told you that I want to talk to you at all?" Vera asked, beginning to get angry.

"Well, I can see it in your eyes!"

"You know, I don't like you at all," she slightly bended the truth, and continued, "So let's agree right now: I am not the heroine of your novel, look for someone else."

"What are you talking about? I liked you right away, and I don't need anyone else."

"You won't get anything out of me, you'll waste your time", she said and went to the pump room.

"We'll see about that," he commented softly, and went away whistling softly.

***

From that day on Vera would notice that he was always nearby: in the line for the treatment, in the park on her way to the pump rooms (she went to another one every day to vary her walks), and in the evenings on the terrace when she would sit there alone with a book. On the third day, he approached her again.

"Okay, you win, I can't take it anymore. You occupy all my thoughts. Look, I am all dried up from worry. Well, let's at least take a walk together, shall we?" His behavior surprised Vera and she asked:

"And why it is all of a sudden such gallantry in the address?"

"I thought about it and realized that you were right, we know each other too little to communicate informally. So, how about a walk?"

In principle, Vera didn't mind going for a walk and talking to someone. It so happened that the women of her age group in the sanatorium were few and they quickly gained admirers and spent all her time with them. The older ones would gather on the terrace in their free time to gossip about their health problems, and this did not interest her. Men, too, were either fully immersed in their illnesses, or blatantly looking for someone with whom they could "spend time in close contact without any trouble," such she rejected immediately. So, life was pretty boring and monotonous: a morning visit for watering, then breakfast, procedures, again walk for watering, lunch, afternoon nap, personal time, sometimes again the procedures, then for watering and dinner, after which the sanatorium almost died out, all did their business in the rooms, or walked in pairs in the park.

Sometimes she would go shopping in the city, but she read more, thank God the library at the sanatorium was good. The lack of communication depressed her. She wrote a letter to her husband, but it was too early to hope for an answer, he and the son would not be back home until another week. So she agreed to take a walk together in the evening.

Immediately after dinner, they went back to the park, but now they were just strolling through the alleys and talking. Victor turned out to be an interesting conversationalist. He knew a lot of different stories, was interested in painting, which always fascinated Vera, but which she never got around to. He read poetry, and each time he picked it up as if he had just composed it for her, and listened with obvious interest to what Vera was telling her. He was easy and, most importantly, he did not let his hands go, so she calmed down and happily agreed to meet him tomorrow. They returned to the building when it was already dark, and Victor gallantly escorted her to her room, kissing her hand goodbye.

The next morning, when she left the room, he was already there, and offered to walk together for water. After the walk, again accompanied by some light rubbing on various topics, they went to breakfast together, and then dispersed for procedures. He wasn't there for lunch, so she had to go and fetch water alone, which seemed to her somehow... not quite comfortable, was it? So she was glad when she came out of her room after a midday nap and saw him waiting for her, tossing a pebble in his hand.

"Where have you been?" She asked, referring to the day's interval.

"I had to be late for a treatment, but nothing important," he elbowed her again, and they walked hand in hand to the water fountain. This evening was just as fun. They walked through the park, then sat on a bench, and he, so she would not be cold, put his arm around her shoulders and threw his jacket over both of them.

"Listen, Vera," he said suddenly, turning his face to her. His voice was particularly captivating, "Do you think we know each other well enough?"

"What do you mean?" She looked worried.

"Well, today I've been to Lviv and I've bought wonderful Armenian brandy 'Vaspurakan', eighteen years old. How do you feel about brandy?"

"Now I understand where you were at lunch," Vera grinned, "But why brandy?"

"Why, we must have a drink on the brotherhood, finally to switch to informal communication!" Victor exclaimed, "And to offer a lady a drink of poor brand, and moreover of unknown origin... Well, that's no way for a gentleman to behave."

"Did you ask me if I wanted a drink?"

"Come on, we'll only drink a little, just to keep up with tradition," his voice vibrated as it echoed through Vera's body, making her weaken.

"Well, if just a little..."

"Of course," Victor rejoiced, and he took out a flat flask of half a liter from one pocket of his jacket, and from the other one he got two folding cups, from which they usually drink mineral water here. "Don't worry, they are new," he added, nodding at the cups, "And then, it's brandy, it sterilizes just as well as vodka.

With these words he quickly arranged the cups, poured twenty grams from the bottle into them and handed one to Vera. When she took the cup, she saw that there was really not much brandy, so she decided to ask:

"And what are we drinking to?"

"To acquaintance," he answered, and, crossing his arm with hers, putting his cup to his mouth. "And you?!" he exclaimed, seeing that Vera was in no hurry to drink. "We must drink simultaneously."

Vera's mind reigned in confusion. She liked this young man with a mesmerizing voice, and at the same time, she was afraid of something. Maybe of herself? 'After all, what's the big deal?' she thought, and shook her head, casting aside her doubts.

She put the cup to her mouth, and they drank the brandy simultaneously, which like a lump of fire ran down her gullet and spread warmth throughout her body. Victor pressed her gently against his chest and touched his lips to her mouth. He smelled of brandy and tobacco. She liked the smell, a very masculine one, and she opened her mouth slightly in response to his touch. His lips, frozen for a moment, pressed down harder and moved gently, as if to go over her lips and take them in, and then his tongue penetrated her mouth and touched her tongue... Oddly enough, it wasn't disgusting.

Vera didn't really know how to kiss. All her experience with her husband had been simple lip contact and light sucking, but here... It was as if an electric shock pierced her body and sent a lingering heaviness through her groin. Her head was slightly dizzy, either from the brandy or, more likely, from the new sensation.

When she recovered a little, she found that his hand was already rubbing her breasts, and new sparks of pleasure ran through her body, again reverberating in her groin. She found the strength to break free and, breathing heavily, said to her vis-a-vis:

"I knew you would pester," then jumped up and quickly walked towards the sanatorium.

"Vera! You've got it all wrong," came to her Victor's words, but she did not listen, trying to escape as soon as possible, to hide not even from him, but from herself...

At night she had her first erotic dream, where Victor kissed her again with his hard, hot lips, and she weakened, losing her breath. Again the blood rushed to her pelvis, making her groin ache.

The next morning, he waited for her again, as if nothing had happened, to go get water and immediately asked:

"Well, how are you, after the brandy? It doesn't seem to be fake." Vera decided to make it clear to him that she could not get her drunk, so she answered:

"Not bad, but I will not drink anymore."

"No one is forcing," Victor smiled, "The main thing was that we are at the level of informal communication now. Aren't we?" She nodded uncertainly. "But of course, if it doesn't work, then we must to repeat," and he as usual offered her his hand.

They did not talk about last night's events all the way there and back. They talked mostly about work, and Victor questioned her more and more, speaking briefly about himself, so that she did not quite understand what does he do. She herself talked passionately about the experiments on the research reactor and various cases associated with them. Then they moved on to the topic of residence. Vera told about her small town, where almost everyone knows everybody, and this can sometimes be very onerous. Victor turned out to be a resident of Mytishchi in the Moscow suburb and invited her to come and visit him.

"And what about your wife?" Vera asked.

"The wife... she does not have to be telling who you are. You can be presented as a distant relative." This for some reason unpleasantly pricked Vera.

After breakfast they left again for procedures, agreeing to meet after a midday nap. Taking a bath, Vera again felt a rush of blood to her lower abdomen, imagining for a moment that Victor lays in the tub with her. 'God, what nonsense comes into my head?!' she thought angrily, but her heart kept beating fast and there was a slight ringing in her head.

In the evening they walked through the city again and talked. But this time it was Victor who talked more, and Vera was in a kind of reverie. The subject slipped imperceptibly into health, especially men's and women's. Victor spoke confidently, knowledgeably, ostensibly because his wife was a gynecologist.

"The man's sexual abstinence has a negative effect on the system, he said, since it does not allow him to live a natural life. In men stagnant blood in the groin is fraught with adenoma of the prostate, and in women leads to all sorts of pelvic disorders, up to cancer."

"Come on, you're scaring me," Vera was really worried, because the heaviness in the lower abdomen, which appeared yesterday, did not go away. "You can't walk on the wild side for the sake of it."

"Women choosing to have so-called 'cicisbeo' means family friend for such occasions, so that they would have someone to relieve their sexual tension with during the long absence of their husbands."

"I wonder, what about husbands?"

"Them, accordingly, got girlfriends."

"I don't know, I wouldn't like it," Vera said doubtfully, while her heart started pounding in her chest again.

"Would you like it if your husband were ill, and incurably ill?"

"Of course not, but it doesn't obligatory have to be that way!"

"But it is possible. And that's why it's necessary to relieve such tension in time, so that it doesn't come to negative consequences." He stopped, put his arm around her and looked intently into her eyes. Her heart was thumping somewhere in her throat and her mouth became dry. She wanted to say something and couldn't.

Victor shook his head and said:

"If you love a man, you always know what is good for his health and what is harmful, and you never will wish any harm," with these words he hugged her tighter and again gently pressed his lips to her ones.

This time the kiss lasted much longer, Vera floated, and when she found his hand on her breast, she could no longer push it away and even pressed tighter against him. After rubbing her breasts a little, he slid his palm between their bodies and moved down, running it over her stomach, touching her crotch through her skirt, when suddenly pain pierced her lower abdomen like a needle.

"Ooh!" shrieked Vera, and sharply bent down and grabbed her stomach.

"What's the matter?" Victor shot up in alarm.

"It hurts!"

"Where?"

"Here, in the stomach," Vera moaned, but at that moment the pain began to subside and she was able to straighten up. "You know, let's go home, I don't feel good."

Victor tried to persuade her to continue the walk, but she, frightened of the pain, insisted on get her way. To Victor's credit, he did not pester her, but accompanied her to her room and put her to bed, he left, kissing her goodbye once more.

And a little later, she, bathing, discovered that she had her period, and a few days earlier.

"...Up to cancer," she remembered, looking at her labia swollen with the rush of blood, and truly frightened.

To relieve the stress, she wrote a letter to her husband, saying that she would never again go to the resort without him, that she missed him terribly. She really missed both her husband and her son, and she wanted nothing more at that moment than to see them, to cuddle and forget about everything.