Alexandra IlLyovna Petrov looked back at her boyfriend, irritated and
exasperated. “We’re not lost! It’s the town that’s been misplaced.”
They laughed together, and Alex took her boyfriend’s hand. She pulled
her beloved Laark toward her through the deepening snow, and together
they pushed on.
“Whose idea was this anyway?” Alex started to ask, then remembered it
was hers. Go out ice fishing together and come back to enjoy supper and
each other. Didn’t even bother to check the weather again that
morning. How could she have been so stupid?
“OW! i’m keeping up, Alex, you don’t have to pull so hard!” Her
boyfriend, more fragile than most Finns, also complained much more
readily. No matter, she loved him anyway, and there was nobody else who
would have gotten her through first semester Physics at the University
in Helsinki. She would always be tender with the little genius – her
Finn. He was her heart.
They trudged onward – Alex really hoped she knew where she was going –
with Alex in front, playing the mother bear, protecting little Laark
from the blast. The fiercely driven snow plastered them both in white.
Alex started to dispair. Her father, an officer on a carrier in the
Bering Sea, would never have tolerated such an attitude. But damn it!
They *were* lost, and she had lost feeling in her toes. She knew Laark
was if anything much worse off. She turned to face him, tell him they
were going to die out in the damned snow, and him still a virgin.
“Yes, I see it!” Laark shouted over the gale before she could speak.
“Alex, you’re the best!”
Alex turned back around. Dimly, she saw the outline of a cabin about 20
meters ahead. With renewed strength, she plunged ahead, dragging her
protesting boyfriend with her.
There were no lights, no smoke in the chimney, no one answered her
pounding on the door. Alex put Laark’s hands against the wall not far
from the door. “Stay put,” she said. “I’ll break in the door.”
The door was, of course, thick and sturdy, made for the elements. “No
matter,” thought Alex as she examined the door. “Not for nothing did my
classmates at the Acadamy in Petrograd called me She-Bear.”
With a cry, Alex hurled her 120 kilograms at the door, commanding with
her mind for it to open. It flew inward, its lock shattered. Alex
bounced painfully against the wooden floor. Her shoulder hurt, her arm
was in such pain. But nothing felt broken, thank God, and she was
inside. Quickly she fetched her boyfriend, before he froze out there.
With her Laark curled up on the couch, Alex quickly surveyed the little
cabin. With a chair braced against the door, it was snug and warm
inside. A thermometer caught her eye. in the dim light it read just 5
degrees. Well, still much warmer than outside. She checked the flue,
cleared away the mouse nest, with some squeaking protests from both her
and the mice. Now she would have a fire.
Carefully, lovingly, she coaxed the tinder, the kindling, the logs into
flame. Then with equal care she eased off her heavy, fur-lined boots.
She held her feet close to the warmth, feeling the delicious needle-pain
of the nerves in her toes protesting as she rubbed them back to life.
No lost digits meant no loss of her promised commission. Then with
alarm, she thought of her Finn. Why wasn’t he busy complaining? She
saw him lying unmoving on the couch.
With a growl of dismay, Alex rushed to her friend. She checked his
vitals – why was he breathing so damned slowly! – and gently removed his
damp clothes. “Wake up, Laark, you damned Finn!” She shouted at him,
shaking him, not about to panic yet, but close. She exposed his little
icicle toes, feeling his frozen little fingers. Gently, she laid her
friend on her open fur-lined parka by the hearth, and more gently still,
she rubbed her friend all over, coaxing circulation back into his
extremities. Her heart was pounding, but she worked efficiently.
Father said use fear, never let your fear kill your men. “Wake up, you
bastard!” she shouted angrily. “Talk to me!”
“Y-y-you d-don’t have to sh-shout, Alex!” Laark’s teeth chattered
voilently, and his body was starting to convulse with his shivering.
His straw-coloured hair was a tangled mess, and his sky-blue eyes were
involuntarily tearing. To Alex, he had never looked better.
“Damn you!” Alex hugged her little friend tightly. “Don’t you ever do
that again!”
“I-it’s n-n-not my f-fault,” he stammered. “”I w-wanted to s-s-stay in
Helsinki and-and see th’ opera. Ow! Alex you-you’re s-s-so heavy!”
He may have intended more complaining, but Alex kept him too busy
kissing. She slipped her tongue into his mouth – even his mouth was
cold – and kissed him long and deeply. He was returning her kiss, in
his own timid way that always made her so hot. But he was having
trouble breathing. She shifted off him, laying her bulky form next to
his pencil-thin body. His arms wrapped around her, tightly for him.
Then more of his timid, worshipful kisses, and the cabin was growing
positively warm.
Alex sat up and removed his long cotton underwear. When he, inevitably,
protested, she lay a thick finger against his thin purple lips.
“Its time, Laark. You have given me so much this semester, now let me
give something back to you.” Laark looked so cute in his birthday
suit. Alex couldn’t resist more kisses. She loved having Laark like
this, naked and vulnerable. And with the way he kissed, his mouth
begging for her tongue, soon it was her breathing that was labored.
Her hand found his member. From the hearth’s light, she watched it
harden in her clasp. So delicious, yet so fragile, the scrotum so
vulnerable to her strong fingers. Laark’s eyes reflected the firelight,
sparkled like jewels, radiating love for her. His eyes closed as their
lips met again.
Alex stood to remove her clothes. She was perspiring, could feel her
inner heat as she impatiently removed her heavy flannel shirt. She felt
cold little fingers at her waist. Her little boyfriend was kneeling
before her, helping remove her thick pants. Those blue eyes were wide,
a silent plea across his face. She stepped out of her pants and nodded
to him. Still kneeling, he gently, timidly, pushed her legs apart.
Alex unconsciously gripped Laark’s blond hair as he buried his face into
the thick, dark curls adorning her sex. He was completely
inexperienced, almost inept, as he tried kissing her there as she had
his mouth. She smiled at his efforts, deeply touched by his obvious
adoration, and moved his mouth to her vagina. He licked her sex and
enthusiastically lapped up her juices. Alex watched his humble
adoration; it was as much a turn-on as the licking itself, and her legs
trembled, weakening.
Alex pushed her boyfriend down and squatted over his hard little prick.
She may have preferred to squat over his enraptured face, but she wanted
him to have his come. With an almost maternal tenderness, she eased his
throbbing erection into her. “Here now, Laark,” she whispered. “We are
one.”
She lay her great weight upon her boyfriend, ignoring his whispered
protests. She wanted him to remember this night, and how she felt on
top of him. She kissed him deeply, and rocked back and forth on his
erection, and whispered her love to him as he came inside her. For
once, she got no complaints, only his whispered echoes of her love.
“Now, my turn,” Alex thought. She rose up, still holding Laark’s penis
tightly inside her vagina. with both hands, she rubbed her clitoris
until, grunting with the pleasure, she came atop him, a powerful,
intense orgasm. Her eyes locked on those of her boyfriend as she took
her pleasure upon him. “We’re going to do this often,” she thought.
She lay next to him, cradling him gently in her powerful arms, letting
her genius of a friend relax, then finally sleep in her embrace.
Later, Alex dressed and looked about the cupboard, rummaging for food.
She found it remarkably well-stocked, even with smoked salmon which she
loved almost as much as Laark. Then she noticed the smoked goose, with
a note attached. It read:
Darling Alexandra Illyovna,
Enjoy the use of My summer house,
and enjoy the wares of My larder.
Your love for each other will be
My payment. But do not come back
or I will turn you into toads!
Loving Regards,
Baba Yaga