1. Eighteen Hours of Rain


    Date: 8/26/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: flytoomuch, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    hours it was raining and for the other six it was dark, cloudy and cold. Inside the apartment all the lights were out. The tip of Svetlana’s cigarette glowed bright red when she inhaled. An ambient yellow glow from the street lamps outside illuminated a cut out profile of the young Russian’s feminine curves. From the other side of the bed Jean gazed at her intently. She was beautiful even in the dark. He took a deep draw on his own cigarette contemplating his existence as a human being. Who was he? Why did he exist? Was there any purpose? Or was there just fucking? Was there just rutting in Mayfair apartments with the planet hurtling through the universe randomly? Would it all end right now? Would an asteroid strike the earth like four thousand atom bombs and end it all right now? It would be fine he supposed. Ending things here and now, at this very instant, in a room with Svetlana? Well things could be worse. The dark haired Russian beauty, Langham’s “handler,” was the wildest fuck Jean had ever had in his life. Beyond the intense sex though there was something intangible. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. There was something he couldn’t explain or articulate. Yes, even Cambridge educations leave gaps. Human relationships transcend book learning. Jean had found a kindred spirit in young Svetlana. Somehow, in some way, when they lay together naked and sweaty Jean finally felt “whole”. With this enigmatic intellectual Russian with no formal education he felt complete. ...
    Was that strange? He could only explain it via serendipity. Why would he feel whole with her? Why feel complete with a handler? The gorgeous sultry Russian’s “cover” was as a student of English literature and part-time fashion model. To establish credibility the pseudo university student went everywhere carrying a paperback novel. Last month it was “Tess of the d’Urbervilles”. The current prop was J.D. Salinger’s “Catcher in the Rye”. The red-jacketed book lay cover face down on the bedside table. Jean could well agree with the model part of her cover story. The dark-haired, dark-eyed beauty originally from the southern province of Buryatia was beyond gorgeous. One can only speculate at how incredibly brilliant and brave Svetlana must have been. How does a young girl, now matter how good looking, no matter how perfect her figure, no matter how firm her C tits, make her way out of a tiny town on the shores of Lake Baikal? It can’t have been easy. It must have required both courage and a high concentration of brain cells that worked rather well. The calculations of the odds against her are mind-boggling. I suspect it might be easier to win the lottery. The distant south Siberian region of Buryatia is known for producing gold and tungsten, not femme fatale super-spies. How would young hick-town bred Svetlana end up in the festering political cesspool of Moscow? How would she fall into the clutches of the Cheka? And from Moscow to thence advance onward to the political cocktail ...
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