Red Sunset --- Chapter 19: Love In The Night

Sümeyye discovers a secret side of her, while her husband is having his share of troubles and comfort in the White Army.

Sümeyye Sidorov's Secret Journal (written in Turkish)

Petersburg, June 2nd

The newspaper-boy is always present in my thoughts! Yesterday morning, I offered him some loukums, those little sugary squares invented in Istanbul by Haci Bekir Effendi back in 1776. He looked astonished and kept looking at me as if I were a ghost! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! He's a good Russian boy, too young to go fight the Czarists. With eyes of such a fascinating ice blue! Ooh, he makes me feel as if I were still his age... and then I feel how old I am. But I know that I would never cross the threshold and betray my marriage. And yet I can't help but feel curious about what it would be like to be intimate with a boy half my age.

I miss Ivan! His touch! The way I feel when he's near... From as long as I can remember, he always made me feel funny! I've always loved him, always will. Oh, such a faithful husband! I can't even think of him being with another girl. Girl! I'm turning thirty-one next December! And yet, I can't get used to thinking about myself as a woman. How vain I am, taking pride in looking so very young for my age! Boys still look at me in the street when I go to the bazaar in the neighborhood where most of the Turks live in Petersburg.

As for the newspaper boy, he shyly nodded and took the two sugary squares I gave him. Spassiba, he quickly said, thank you, with his face blushing as he looked at me with those lovely blue eyes of his. Yes, he was looking at me with a mix of uneasiness and curiosity. He probably never had a girl companion. As for me, I've only ever loved Ivan, and Ivan was already twenty-eight when I first fell in love with him, at the dawn of my maiden years! So that must be why I've grown so fond of this boy. I want to know what it's like to be with a boy. And I don't have much time left before the gone-by days turn me into an old woman.

My young sister Sibel is often calling on me, even spending nights at our second-floor apartment of two bedrooms. Since Ivan went missing in action, I've been living alone, so I'm happy to have her company. I was often the one holding her hand in the street when she was little. How time flies! She's already twenty-six. She never married. Once, six years ago, she lived with us in secret because she was pregnant. Then she had a miscarriage and went back to her old place where she worked, and still works for herself as a fortune-teller. Tarots, crystal ball, reading hands; that's her world, and I have to say she has the looks for it too. It seems that her hair is even silkier and blacker than mine! Maybe it's the astonishing number of olives she consumes, from breakfast to dinner!

One morning, she asked me if she could live with me. The reason was her safety. She reads Tarots by herself at her place, alone with her customer. She had several close calls with a man who began taking liberties with her; she's a very pretty girl! I never asked her how she became pregnant, but I'm afraid she was taken by force.

"I know that your husband has left you a Nagant revolver," she said. "You could hide in the next room with it, so I'd feel so much safer! Of course you would share the proceeds with me. The money can get quite good, especially when I give special services to my client!"

I didn't press her about what those special services were, but the expression she used disturbed me. Was Sibel a prostitute?

"No, my beloved Sümeyye, at least not all the way. But you see, whether I reveal a bit of myself or not, there's always an element of risk for my person. Some clients are... insistent, even aggressive and they can easily turn violent if you don't know how to handle them. I insist that a client come alone, but sometimes, he has friends just outside the door; so things can degenerate fast.

Ivan would be furious with her! Sibel is exposing me to a risk from strangers. I should have said no, but some element of curiosity made me say yes. After all, I know how to use a revolver, so the risk isn't that great. But I find that the element of danger makes the whole business pretty exciting!

Sibel brought her things over and two nights later, she received her first customer, a man with grey hair, perhaps as old as sixty springs. I peaked from the dark, through the curtain. Sibel was sitting at the dinner table, which was covered by a dark burgundy table-cloth where the tarots were displayed. From her small height, she commanded the place with her mysterious aura, with her black cat sitting near her, while the old man, wearing the dark bourgeois outfit of a well-off fellow, kept staring at her as her dainty hands moved the cards and she told him his fortune in a most glamorous way. It was an aspect of her I had never seen in the flesh.

She looked like the proverbial gypsy girl, her face looking both young and timeless at the dim light, her dark dress, shawl and hair making it seeming like she was only a face with two moving hands. The old man was horny; I could sense it from a mile.

"Tell me, Sibel, will I soon see the boobs of a young lady?" he asked.

"The cards are telling me you probably will," my sister replied.

"Will she be a gypsy girl, by chance?" the old man said, his smile a grotesque version of what his smiling face used to be decades ago. His expression told me he was foolish enough to think he was still somehow handsome. He clearly wasn't, Allah knows!

"She could be. About twenty years old, noble Sir," Sibel replied. I could tell she had done this many times before.

"How much to see your tits, young lady?"

"Ten rubles, fifteen if you want to touch and kiss them!"

"That's a bit stiff! You ain't sixteen anymore!"

"Thirteen rubles to suck my tits and you'll see, noble Sir, they look and feel much younger than I am!"

"Yes, yes, young lady! You're a small girl, and small titties always look fresh and young! All right, disrobe!"

The old man was panting. My own breathing got harder as I watched the whole deal from behind the curtain, protected by the darkness of the living room. He threw the rubles on the table, amid the tarot cards, while Sibel swiftly removed her shawl and the top of her dress; she wore no corset! She stood from her chair and looked at the old man while flaunting her topless beauty. She indeed looked much younger with those boobs in the nude. It wasn't that they were firm in the brave way they rode high; they looked so smooth and pale with such a small impertinence that it was like travelling a full ten years back in time!

I felt jealous! My own breasts, I think, do not look as nice as Sibel's, even though they are about the same size with nipples of the same Ottoman brown.

As if Sibel's offered breasts were the be-all of his existence, the man came at her and began to kiss her tits while tenderly cupping them. I watched, keeping as silent as I could, but my heart was racing, I was panting! I was soaking wet! This old man was sucking the breasts of my baby sister! She looked like some damsel of a scandalous young age in the arms of some lecherous old man! Something inside me felt like finding out what it would feel like to take such a grotesque old man inside my mouth! Until he'd explode on my bare breasts! Oh, dirty me!

After a while, the old bugger asked for more:

If I give you another twelve rubles, will you completely disrobe yourself so I can kiss you everywhere? You're like an angel!"

"Men are unhappy because they can't appreciate a turn of good fortune! I will not let you see me naked; keep the curiosity alive for another time, noble Sir."

"I can give you fifty rubles if you let me have you on this table! Fifty!!"

"The noble Sir is very generous, but for twelve more, that is a total of twenty-five rubles, I can kneel at your feet, take you in my mouth and let you have your load any way you please! I can swallow it or take it on my tits if you like, even on my face if you prefer..."

"YEs! Yes! I haven't had such a young lady doing this for many long years! Yes!"

"But before, give me your gentleman's word that you will leave as soon as your business is done. I insist!"

"Yes yes, I give you my word!" the old man said as he threw twelve more rubles on the table and undid his trousers almost at the same time!

My jaw dropped as I saw his cock! A respectable size; so straight and proud! I felt strongly drawn to it! It was so tempting! To taste another man for the very first time in my life! The fact he was old and repulsive gave a surprising zest to the whole affair; I was so wet!

Sibel, always topless with her dark dress, knelt down at his feet and promptly took it in her hand. The man began to grunt as she began to massage it, and just as he was asking her to take him inside her mouth, she did just that. Slurping sounds filled the silence along with his grunts, as her pretty head bobbed back and forth and she worked his entire length, keeping a gentle hold at his base and performing a small twisting motion that I took note of for when Ivan would return to me.

"Aaahh yes! Yes! Young lady, I... Ooh yeah! This is so worth it! Hhaaaaa haaa, yes it's soo good..." the old man uttered, clearly approaching his boiling point, while my sister kept insistently working his length with her mouth and tongue, presently firmly massaging his base with her hand! She was skilled! Now I knew why Mother threw her out.

The old man became frantic! He was moaning like a mad horny fellow as he ran his hands through Sibel's dark hair, caressing her head while feverishly calling her young lady, as if repeating a mantra; no wonder a young lady can be such a bliss for an old man whose appearance has gone sour! He could only pay if he wanted some action with a girl like Sibel.

He exploded and let go of a load that was so impressive! He had pulled out of Sibel's mouth and literally showered her with no less than four strong bolts of semen! I pressed my mouth not to scream as I watched the whole thing! And heard his long-sustained groan as he erupted in absolute bliss!

"Thank you, young lady! Until next time," the old man said, taking his stovepipe hat and his long jacket. True to his word, he left at once.

As soon as he was gone, I rushed at Sibel and began to lick her face!

"Sümeyye?! What? What are you doing?! Stop!"

I didn't listen! I kept tasting that semen off her face! It tasted pungent with an old man's salt! The very first time my tongue met the semen from a man other than my husband! I couldn't stop! I was mad! Sibel's face was so pretty! It felt so erotic to remember that moment when her pretty face received the discharge from this old man; erotic, and comically grotesque.

Before I realized what I was doing, I was kissing and caressing Sibel's breasts! She didn't do anything to stop me. Her hands ran all over my head, her fingers through my hair. She was moaning! "Sümeyye... Please, sister! Stop this, I... I... c-can't allow... this..."

But I just kept going! I was mad with lust! Lust for sex with another person than my husband. Even with my own sister! As long as it was with someone nice. The next day, we would never talk about it, but from that moment on, Sibel shared my bed. It felt so warm and nice to have someone to sleep with in this large bed! Sibel's tits were truly lovely and fascinating to kiss. I had no idea I would be doing this with another girl, let alone my sister. All the weirdness of Ivan being perhaps dead made me act as if I were a different person. And besides, doing this with another girl wasn't cheating.

Sibel went to the bathroom, and when she came back, she tried to talk me out of it, but her eyes were filled with curiosity. She suddenly asked me to remove my own garments so she could see my breasts. She said she had always felt jealous of them, that I was the prettier sister. And I said no, it was her! She was a good four years younger!

"Sümeyye, my lawful sister, you get your half of these twenty-five rubles; now, take off all your clothes and lie down on this table. Lie still while I show you a sister's affection, to each and every delightful inch of this body I'm so jealous of! Your husband is a very lucky man! Shame on him if he ever cheats on you!"

My hand trembles as I write how Sibel used her mouth and hands on me. I would never had imagined that the touch of another girl could stir me so much! Maybe it was due to the loneliness I felt, and the dread of thinking Ivan might be worse than just missing. Sibel's tongue got acquainted with my breasts with such gentleness as I lay naked on this table! And I caught myself wishing that the old man would return, having forgotten something and finding us like this! I had forgotten to lock the apartment's door after he left.

Sibel kissed me absolutely everywhere! She positively had done this before with other girls. She would later tell me that some of her clients were in fact women, usually some widow or old woman with money. I was a rare treat for her because I was still young with "Allah forbids soft skin" as she puts it. And when she used her tongue inside me, I sank in my innermost fantasies and moaned as hot and hard as if Ivan was fucking me on this very table, which he often did.

The newspaper-boy came vivid in my mind as Sibel's tongue worked its magic inside me! This boy! His small, timid hands on me! His beardless face! His ice-blue eyes filled with fascination over my nakedness! I pictured him fucking me like the strongest champion! On this table. Oh, how it would creak from his urgent thrusts inside me! "Yeah yeah yeah, deep inside me!" I moaned while my sister's tongue took me closer to heaven with each new stroke!

The boy! Fucking me, a girl twice his age! And I fully admitted to myself that my absolute fantasy was to be gang-fucked by this boy and a group of his friends! All of them immorally young! All of them with a hard cock that the laws of physics will allow to sink inside my pussy! And how they would fuck me! Their eyes filled with curiosity as to how my small breasts would move under their impetus! And I would beg them to all take turns inside me; while holding my wrists firmly, as if they were raping me!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE BOYS!!!" I screamed as that tongue took the stroke that made me weightless and bursting with heat! It took me some time to remember where I was and with whom. And then, I realized with a mix of fascinated horror and wonder that I just became immorally intimate with my own sister.

Some weeks later, after a late supper, as I lay in bed with Sibel after we made love again, I had that same dream where a girl told me my husband was all right. This girl carried an air of graceful nobility and had blue eyes filled with merriment mixed with unfathomable sorrow. "Your Ivan will be all right, Mrs. Sidorov, he's alive, but I'm so sad! I've lost my board-game of colorito. I'm so sad, so very sad... Ho, Mrs., would you serve me some strawberries with whipped cream?"

And I would hug this funny-looking girl, as merry as a child and as gloomy as death. A young girl, as short as myself, with chestnut hair that smelled like heaven. Small hands that touched me and moved like an angel. So adorable! Then she was gone. Who was she? But I believed her. Ivan was still alive and one day he would return to me.

***

Captain Sidorov's thoughts...

That girl who saved me from the flogging... If she was really Nastya... Why did she save me? It doesn't make sense! At the station in Tyumen, I made love to her while my men were raping her sisters! She should hate me! But was it just a coincidental resemblance? She could have been just a local girl who happened to look very much like her...

But I love to think it was Shvibzik, the Merry little one. This morning, before I was to be interrogated by the Admiral, I had not slept for the second night in a row, and like floating in a dream, I visited the Ipatiev House. The guards let me pass due to my rank, and the officer on duty went inside with me. A fine young fellow who seemed thrilled to be talking with an older officer. I was indeed an officer the youngsters could easily talk with.

He took me to the cellar, where I found obvious signs of an execution by fire squad; nearly half the plaster on the far wall was heavily damaged by a great many bullet impacts, and this suggested that the men forming that squad were either drunk or kept missing on purpose, perhaps both. The sickly yellow wall-paper seemed embarrassed to still be there. Large blood stains were darkening the floor, a clear sign that several people had been murdered there.

"They also found three dead dogs, Sir. Bayoneted, except one darker dog that was killed by bullets."

"I think this was Ortipo; it belonged to Grand Duchess Tatiana," I replied, on the verge of tears and trying my best to keep my countenance in front of this junior officer young enough to be my son.

"You knew her, Sir? You were perhaps on duty in Petersburg?"

"No, but I saw pictures of the Czar and his family, bless their souls!"

"You... you think they're dead?! This can't be! I mean, this cannot be, Sir!"

"It begins to look like this, Lieutenant, and the Admiral thinks so. If the Bolsh..., if those brigands had simply moved the family, then why kill the dogs? It doesn't make sense, unless..."

"Unless what, Sir?"

"The answer is, I'm afraid, a very unpleasant one, and..."

As I spoke, my voice began to tremble and a tear rolled down my left cheek. I quickly wiped it off using my sleeve and said, "Let's go through the house; we... perhaps I'll find something..."

We went upstairs and found ourselves in the drawing room, where stood a long, massive table. The Romanovs ate their meals there and... and I had little doubt as to what other uses the guards had for this table, especially when the Lieutenant told me that the daughters had been kept in a room on this very same floor.

I rushed into the bedroom and saw four beds. The ominous number that so often means death.

"Everything has been left as is, Sir. I'm with you to see that nothing gets disturbed. The officer in charge of the inquest shall be here any minute, Sir."

I looked through the stuff, doing my best not to show that I knew what I was looking for. The world danced around me; the floor was dancing under me as I kept looking through the belongings of the Grand Duchesses. On a cupboard, there was a picture showing a smiling Maria along with some young officer, and Nastya in the background... I was tempted to take it, but the Lieutenant was watching me and doing so would be theft of official property.

There it was! I tried to repress my sobs as I recognized the playing board and the pieces... Colorito. It was Nastya's board-game of colorito. She would never have left without it!

"Noo! Noo! Noo! Nastya! Nastya--aaaaaah aaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..."

I fell on the ground and began to sob while screaming like a demented man, shouting Nastya's name and begging her forgiveness. I lost track of time at this point. All I know is, when I came to, I was restrained by bonds in a cell. It was quite dark.

The girl who saved me... It was Nastya! Had to be. I never believed in ghosts or supernatural beings, but I couldn't find it in me to accept the idea she was gone forever. I couldn't bear the thought of living in a world where she was no more. She was so sweet and I was so horrible to her! Why did she forgive me? Countess Hendrikoff has forgiven me too. Tamara probably did as well, since she had herself forgiven all thirteen men who had bought and used her! Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanova was too gentle and good-natured to go through such violent times. She should have been allowed to go into exile and become an actress in England. And have those strawberries with whipped cream.

Yes, I believe! For I cannot accept a reality where she's no more.

***

The doctor who saw me said I wasn't the only officer who had cried and sobbed upon learning that the Czar and his family had probably been murdered.

"Everybody is visiting that cellar," he had said. "They all want to see the place where they were shot and killed. All clues are pointing in that direction."

"I know, Doctor. They're dead."

"How can you be so sure? There's still a hope they were only moved and some other people were executed in that cellar."

Then I told him the story of how I was "saved from some Bolshevik partisans who had posed as Turkish circus strongmen in a colourful costume". A girl had led soldiers to where they were flogging me using a studded knout.

"Doctor, I'm sure they would have flogged me to death if it weren't for that girl! One of the men, Anton, a private, could swear that this girl was Grand Duchess Anastasia!"

"Nonsense! This man had too much to drink! Grand Duchess Anastasia Romanova, bless her holy soul, is either dead or captive. There's no way she could be around here!"

I stuck to my story—The soldiers and the Major General had been led by a girl who then vanished; and this girl was Anastasia! I could not tell anyone about the game of colorito being Nastya's most prized possession as this would betray me as a former Bolshevik officer who had served in the guard around the Grand Duchesses. So I stuck to my story about the girl who had vanished after saving me.

I stuck to my story when they brought me before the Admiral, who looked at me very sternly as he spoke:

"The Major General and Nadja were both shot dead and once the General was dead, you were the highest-ranking officer there! You're responsible for what happened, and this is why I had you tied up in a cell. Oh, the Doctor said you had a shock, that you needed more rest, but your little play in the Ipatiev House won't keep you from being disciplined! No it won't!"

"Admiral Sir! I was tied up to a tree and being flogged when they arrived to rescue me! There was nothing I could possibly do!"

"This is what you did next, after your men freed you, that will seal your fate in this Army, Lieutenant! Yes, I'm demoting you to Lieutenant and whether you remain an officer will depend on what you say next, so think very carefully, Lieutenant, before you answer this next question. What did you do once you were rescued and saw that the General and the Colonel's daughter had been shot by a sniper?"

The Admiral's words tipped me off as to what Lieutenant Svoboda had told the Admiral. He was a true friend! He had protected me by telling the Admiral that Nadja had been killed by the sniper along with the General. He had also protected himself by saying so.

"Admiral Sir, the Lieutenant in command of the light company of the 7th was also present. Could he come here and testify along with me?"

"My dear Lieutenant, you were in that cell a bit longer than you think! You slept like a stupid stone. Perhaps the Doctor is right and you're off your rockers. The 7th Regiment had to march forward yesterday and the light company with it, and the entire Czech Legion will soon follow under General Jan Syrový—Learn his name, Lieutenant, for he's your commander in chief. We still have a war to win. Colonel ... oh I forgot his name, has remained here, however. The man has been delirious and quite insane since he lost his daughter. She was buried two days ago, and so was the Major General, a great loss for us! So I want to know, what did you do when the General was dead? The captured sniper gave much confused answers and was not of much use other than entertainment for the men, so I'm asking you. What did you do next as the highest-ranking officer present?

"We, Admiral Sir, we gave chase to these partisans! You see, Sir, that sniper wasn't alone, but she's the only one we managed to capture."

"And what about the body of Nadja? Did you leave it unattended?! Her dress was all torn! As if a group of men had tore it off her, to strip her naked! To do things to her! To her corpse."

"I... I'm afraid we did, Sir, well Sir, I... I was quite in great pain. My back was a bloody mess, Sir! I had received no less than seven strikes of knout when I was saved, Sir, and Sir, you've seen for yourself how painful it is to get struck by an iron-studded knout! My judgement was altered and we, I did what I thought was the best course of action with the fifteen men I had, Sir!"

"You're a fool! You could have led those men straight into an ambush! You stupid, clumsy fool! And so, Nadja's body was left unattended, where she was no doubt found by some local men, who ripped her dress off and... And we all know what those animals did. Nadja was a very pretty young lady, Sergeant! Yes, Sergeant! You lack the most elementary judgement! All you had to do was to leave two men to guard the corpse. Two men! Even an acne-stricken fähnrich* would have done better than you!" (* fähnrich = officer cadet)

"Yes, Sir."

I felt relieved. He was only demoting me. I could have easily ended up in front of a fire squad!

"Now, in consideration for your long years of service, as I've been told you served during the Great War, you will be reduced to the rank of Fel'dfebel' and your new commander in the Czech Legion will do whatever he pleases with you! You'll have your marching orders to-morrow. Now leave!" (Feldfebel or Felwebel = Master Sergeant)

Only then did I become aware that I was alone with the Admiral, except for those two sentries at the door. But I accepted my fate and why would I betray the White Army? We were on the winning side! The oil-lamps told me it was probably late at night.

Then, I heard light foot-steps, and a young lady wearing a rose dress walked in, with long dark hair that reminded me of my wife. Tamara! Light foot-steps that played the most sensually quiet music, for she was barefoot. And I suddenly felt aroused upon remembering how I had raped her amid the orgy on that train in Tyumen. A horrible night riddled with stolen sensuality amid pigs' laughter and ape-like grunts. And amid all this, Tamara, ever so graceful in her raped nakedness; her feet! Kissed by me as I forcefully erupted inside her!

One word from her would spell my doom. I heard some purring and felt something against my officer's long boots. A cat. Tamara's white-and-copper cat. It looked up to me and I could tell it recognized me for someone who had stroked it back in Tobolsk.

"Don't you know when to take your leave, Sergeant? Be off!"

***

Feldfebel Sidorov's thoughts...

What sort of dignity did Tamara regain with us Whites taking over? She was a damsel for the highest-ranking General. Still a prostitute. Certainly not free to go back to her native castle in Latvia if she wants to. Countess Hendrikoff was no doubt in a similar predicament; she had regained her rank, provided that she gave her ass to some old general. No doubt the Admiral had tried her out before deciding he preferred the younger Tamara. White skin; white meat.

The city of Yekaterinburg was asleep as I went outside after collecting my Nagant from a Sergeant at the door of this mansion, next door to the Mayor's house, where music and songs were no longer heard. Only the sobbing of girls who had been stripped of all human dignity, by troops who were the same no matter what side they fought on. A sentry saluted me and after some hesitating, I saluted him back as I realized I was still wearing my Captain's shoulder pads. With the Imperial stars on it. Nastya must have been happy from high up above, to see me wearing these. I was missing her voice most of all. The touch of her feet under the table when we played colorito was one of my most precious memories.

This was a warm night at the end of July. It felt good to be walking the streets; no longer being an officer carried a sense of freedom.

High up above, the sky was as clear as black satin with myriads of stars. The Plough constellation was showing me where to look up for the north. Then I looked westward, knowing that far beyond the horizon was St. Petersburg and Sümeyye, the prize of victory waiting for me. She was waiting for me in the land of the sunset. We were fighting on the side of justice and we would crush the Bolsheviks! Soon, it would be the Red Army's sunset. Soon.

"My good sir, will you give me 20 kopecks? You'll see, I'm good, very good with my mouth..."

A girl had spoken these words, with a fairy's voice. So short! The top of her head barely reached my chest. She was looking at me with big dark eyes full of tragedy and long dark hair full of lost innocence; a lost fairy-tale of innocence that she seemed to cling to. She wore pale little flowers in her hair. White grace inside a white night-gown that let see a pristine shoulder. She must have fabulous feet! The softness of her cheeks told me how peachy she must be everywhere!

I dared not ask her how young she was. Her face looked immorally pure! She kept looking at me in silence, perhaps a ghost wearing her pale night-gown, barefoot as she stood near the door to a small house. I nodded as my eyes met her feet. My cock went hard.

"For one ruble, young lady, will you spend the night with me? What's your name, little angel?"

"Magda."

(See image)

It was an empty house. Whoever was there was fast asleep. She closed the door behind us and led me to a small room where was a large bed along with a low table covered with empty plates, tin cups and utensils. Clients were feeding her. How many men had used her?

"I like you," Magda said, her voice like a beautiful spring in the room's gloomy silence and half-darkness. "I only take clients I like. My parents have fled. I hid until they had no choice but to flee. They never really liked me. My mother's an ugly hag; she was always jealous of my beauty. Father wanted to keep looking for me, but Mother's the one in charge, so they left. And now I have to make a living. I'm pretty."

As she spoke those last two words, she slowly spun around, showing me each side of her; she had a thin belt that flattered her slim curves. From top to bottom, she was as lovely a young maid one could dream of. The pale flowers in her hair made sure she looked like a virgin peach. My eyes were hypnotized by her bare feet as she whirled and danced on the dark rug. Her little hands seemed to hold the destiny of men. My money came right out.

I gave her one silver ruble and took her in my arms, very gently. I quietly put her head on my chest and began to stroke her hair, even more gently. She was the loveliest girl I had held in my arms since Nastya. I kept stroking her hair, tears in my eyes as the reality hit me again. Nastya was dead. And this girl could very well be dead as well. And yet her little body was all warm and comforting against me. And my manhood was throbbing at the thought of penetrating her! I knew that her buttocks would be truly white and a heaven of flesh to touch and kiss, that I'd be as hard as a conquering Turk inside her!

"For one ruble, you can fuck me all you like, Captain Sir. What do you want me to do, Sir? Do you want me to go down on my knees now?"

"I... I'm so sad! About all this war. All this nonsense! I... I just want to love you. Magda. That's a very beautiful name!"

She remained silent as I stooped down and began to kiss her shoulder as I lowered the wide collar of her gown. This was a shoulder too dainty to belong to a woman, more a fairy's. I felt so ashamed to be lusting after so young a girl! And yet I knew that the ejaculation would be a biblical one, due to this very immorality. She was worth a thousand rubles! More! I covered her head with kisses, going mad with love. Her breathing was deepening, she was probably simulating arousal, but she did it well. Her scent was impossible to describe with words! She was paradise! I wanted to touch her breasts through her gown, but I didn't dare go ahead. I felt too ashamed.

"Why are you so shy, Sir? Go ahead! I won't bite! You're so different from the others! Anyone of them would already be fucking me like a braying donkey, but not you! You take your time, you're very gentle. I really like you! Now please, suck my tits, I'd love this from you! You're so gentle! Yes, touch me, daddy!"

From the moment my hand softly cupped her left breast through her thin gown, my world changed. She felt timeless. She was a ghost. I kept caressing her breasts for the longest time, feeling the depth of her breathing, her heart beats... She was a ghost; the most adorable of all! I kept petting her bosom and let the anticipation build up; the anticipation of letting those little castles of girly fat come into sight, with her budding nipples that would look back at me and wait for my love.

I lowered her gown and uttered a loud grunt as I saw the mirage of her! Her breasts! Small nipples of dark raspberries, as if hoovering in the golden heat from the quiet lamp! She was. Even more beautiful than I had thought! I was painfully hard down there! I was going to fuck her long and good! I plunged and began to kiss and kiss and lick and suck this youth from her! My tongue against her nipples! It was surreal! This was never supposed to happen.

I especially loved getting lost in the valley between her breasts. She was ungodly soft! Her heart beating! Her skin! Pale as death. While her little fingers kept running through my thinning hair.

"I love the way you do this, Daddy! Ohh, so gentle! Ooh yes! Yes! Please strip me naked, Daddy! Strip me naked and use me! My heart belongs to Daddy!"

What followed was a dream where I fucked and kept fucking this dream of a girl until the gray morning. The debauchery would remain like the fading recollection of a dream too wonderful to reach again, with a girl too pretty to be touched again.

Shame would always assault me as I would recall how I kissed her feet, and then how I hastily stripped myself naked and let my stiff cock meet the soft tenderness of her dainty feet. Oh, Magda! So graceful in her nakedness, with the most delicate triangle of dark vulva hair! With legs only rivaled by Sümeyye, but my wife is pale olive while Magda is as white as death.

In this eternal present of my dreams, I'm now holding Magda's butt between my hands, and she's moaning, childish and pretty as I enjoy the entry inside her while she's on all fours and the dark mass of her hair makes her back even whiter! with a sensual tinge of gold from the oil lamp! Where the vast bed gets used to its full purpose... I grunt with bliss as I feel her pussy around me! Tight! I'm raping her! Raping this small girl and it's so wonderful! Her butt looks pleasantly vast, surprisingly so as the slender girl keeps moaning under my fierce assaults and the scent from her intimacy reaches my nostrils as I keep pounding her!

I soon scream as my whole body becomes weightless and I dump a gigantic load inside her!

"Yes, Daddy! I love how you fill me up!"

And while I ejaculate inside this small lady, I'm filled with guilt.