Tatiana and Alexander: A Novel(100)

Reluctantly this time, Alexander obeys her.

Tatiana kneels between his legs. She doesn't hold his hands but pulls off his trousers and climbs back astride him, lifting her dress. "Now..." she murmurs, pinning his wrists above his head and moving her lips to his face. "Go ahead, soldier."

Alexander doesn't move. Tatiana moves. Up and down.

"Go ahead," she murmurs again. "You were saying? Show me what you got. Try to get away." Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

Alexander emits a low groan. Tania kisses him. "Oh, husband..." she calls melodiously, to the rhythm of her heart, to the rhythm of her motion. "You were saying..."

"Nothing." He closes his eyes. Tatiana yields herself to remind him that her submission--the source of all his strength--is his privilege and not his right. Wrapped in her, he takes it from her as though it is an elixir he needs to continue living.

Afterward she is still holding his wrists and he is still not moving, except for his heart, which is pumping 160 beats a minute of Tatiana through his body.

"I knew I wasn't doing it right before," Tatiana says, grinning and licking his cheek. "I knew there had to be a way to beat you."

"You should have just asked me. I would have told you what it was."

"Why would I want to ask you? I had to figure it out for myself."

"Good job, Tatiasha," murmurs Alexander. "You onlyjustfigured it out?"

In the middle of the night, Alexander--with the moist towel still on his face--was startled out of sleep by the cheerful drunken whisper of Ouspensky, who was shaking him awake, while taking his hand and placing into it something soft and warm. It took Alexander a moment to recognize the softness and warmness as a large human breast, a breast still attached to a human female, albeit a not entirely sober human female, who breathed fire on him, kneeled near his bed and said something in Polish that sounded like, "Wake up, cowboy, paradise is here."

"Lieutenant," said Alexander in Russian, "you're going on the rack tomorrow."

"You will pray to me as if I'm your god tomorrow. She is bought and paid for. Have a good one." Ouspensky lowered the flaps on the tent and disappeared.

Sitting up and turning on his kerosene lamp, Alexander was faced with a young, boozy, not unattractive Polish face. For a minute as he sat up, they watched each other, he with weariness, she with drunken friendliness. "I speak Russian," she said in Russian. "I'm going to get into trouble being here?"

"Yes," said Alexander. "You better go back."

"Oh, but your friend..."

"He is not my friend. He is my sworn enemy. He has brought you here to poison you. You need to go back quickly."

He helped her sit up. Her swinging breasts were exposed through her open dress. Alexander was naked except for his BVDs. He watched her appraise him. "Captain," she said, "you're not telling me you are poison? You don't look like poison." She reached out for him. "You don't feel like poison." She paused, whispering, "At ease, soldier."

Moving away from her slightly--only slightly--Alexander started to put on his trousers. She stopped him by rubbing him. He sighed, moving her hand away. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html

"You left a sweetheart behind? I can tell. You're missing her. I see many men like you."

"I bet you do."

"They always feel better after they're with me. So relieved. Come on. What's the worst that can happen? You will enjoy yourself?"

"Yes," said Alexander. "That's the worst that can happen."

She stuck out her hand holding a French letter. "Come on. Nothing to be afraid of."

"I'm not afraid," said Alexander.

"Oh, come on."

He buckled his belt. "Let's go. I'll walk you back."

"You have some chocolate?" she said, smiling. "I'll suck you off for some chocolate."

Alexander wavered, lingering on her bare breasts. "As it turns out, I do have some chocolate," he said, throbbing everywhere, including his heart. "You can have it all." He paused. "And you don't even have to suck me off."

The Polish girl's eyes cleared for a moment. "Really?"

"Really." He reached into his bag and handed her some small pieces of chocolate wrapped in foil.

Hungrily she shoved the bars into her mouth and swallowed them whole. Alexander raised his eyebrows. "Better the chocolate than me," he said.

The girl laughed. "Will you really walk me back?" she said. "Because the streets are not safe for a girl like me."

Alexander took his machine gun. "Let's go."

They walked through the subdued night-time streets of Lublin. Far away there was the distant sound of men laughing in a crowd, of breaking glass, of revelry. The girl took his arm. She was a tall girl, but the feel of soft female flesh pressing on him was a bittersweet waterfall to Alexander.

He felt a tightening in his abdomen, he felt his pulsing heart, his pulsing everything. He held her arm to him, and as they walked he closed his eyes for a second and imagined the relief and the comfort. He opened his eyes, shuddered slightly and sighed.