Nor was he sure of the reason why he held back. It might have been because the strong rapport he felt for Jonathan Relevant was assurance enough that he would choose the United States over other countries—just as the President himself would have chosen if their situations had been reversed. Or it might have been that the President recognized his inability to influence Jonathan Relevant’s decision no matter what pressures he brought to bear.
In either case, the President didn’t press the point. It was still up in the air when Jonathan Relevant departed the White House. Yet the President felt strangely calm as he watched him depart.
Leander Pigbaigh was waiting in a downstairs reception room. Just before they left the CIA man was called aside by an aide of the President’s. As they settled into a waiting limousine, Pigbaigh filled in Jonathan Relevant on what the aide had said.
“They done smoked the peace pipe at Harnell. The trouble’s ovah theah.”
“Oh? What’d they dew? Call in the Cav’lry?” Jonathan Relevant asked. “Pull awl the trustees’ Cadillacs intew a circle?”
“Naw. They jes’ run out o’ Injuns. Seems ouah boy got busted by the locals an’ it turns out they ain’t no more redskins on the campus. That Alcatraz bunch sent ’em a message sayin’ they should butt out an’ let the Injuns handle they own troubles ’thout manufacturin’ ’em. So they awl got togethah an’ ’greed to them terms yew got ’em tew ’gree tew afore.”
“What happens now?” Jonathan Relevant wondered.
“Seems weah loosenin’ up on see-curity precautions with yew, Colonel. The President’s eagah yew shouldn’t feel no ways like a prisoner. So, ’tween naow and tomorrow when we go to New Yawk an’ turn yew ovah to the Yew Enn, yew jes’ feel free to do anythin’ yew feel like.”
What do I feel like doing? Jonathan Relevant wondered. At the moment he didn’t know. Later, after Pigbaigh had left him in his hotel room, circumstances provided an answer in the form of a knock on his door.
“Hello, Ludmilla.” Ivan Relevant greeted his visitor in Russian.
Ludmilla held up a bottle of vodka and entered. “I thought we might have a drink together for old times’ sake,” she told him. “Or for new times’ sake,” she added.
“That’s a very nice idea.” Ivan Relevant closed the door behind her and followed her into the room. A heady perfume assailed his senses as he came close to her.
Nor was it just the perfume that belied the casual nature of Dr. Ludmilla Skivar’s presence. Her appearance was also highly sensual. She had Americanized her manner of dress and sexualized it in the process.
Ludmilla wore the skimpiest of mini-skirts and it revealed her long legs in net stockings which accentuated their slender, yet fleshy shapeliness. The white-silk blouse she wore featured a deep V which clearly showed the pronounced cleft between her breasts and the inverted parenthesis of flesh on either side of the cleavage. And the material lost the battle to long, sharp nipples visibly straining without the hindrance of a brassiere. Her long, ebony hair tumbled down over her shoulders and curled to nestle just above the impressive swell of her large breasts. Her dark eyes smoldered as she looked at Ivan Relevant and her tongue peeped out between moist, red lips as if shyly posing a silent question.
She handed Ivan Relevant a glass half filled with vodka. Picking up her own glass, she brushed against him and he felt the heat and firmness of her breast through the silk as it pressed against his arm. She looked at him knowingly, sat down on the edge of the bed, and patted the sheet beside her, indicating that he should sit there.
He did. They sipped their vodka. With her free hand she reached out and took his hand. She held it in her lap. Her net-covered thigh burned against it and then started to move very slightly, back and forth. His knuckles caught in the webbing and she increased the pressure on his hand so that he could feel the quivering flesh of her leg.
Ivan Relevant drained his drink, put the glass down, and put his free arm around her shoulder. His fingertips barely grazed the silken swell of the top of her breast. Ludmilla caught her breath and inhaled sharply. Both nipples moved as if in added protest against the flimsy material covering them.
She turned her head. Her lips were only a few inches away from those of Ivan Relevant. He closed the distance. Their mouths locked hotly, moistly, ardently, lips moving, tongues exploring. Ivan Relevant’s fingers trailed up from her thigh, along the side of her body, tracing the firm thrust of her hip, the narrowness of her waist, the firm flesh of the side of her now panting breast.
“I must make a confession to you,” she murmured in Russian when the kiss was over. “Nothing excites me so much as being touched with my clothes on, through the material, I mean. Is that terribly depraved?”
“Nyet! It’s not depraved at all.” Ivan Relevant cupped her breasts over the silk and squeezed them gently.
Ludmilla closed her eyes and gasped. All her senses were concentrated on the contact and the feelings it aroused. The whole of her breasts swelling in his hands, the nipples growing even longer and firmer and harder as he manipulated them between his fingers, the aureoles seeming to widen as he drew little circles to trace their outlines, the fire sweeping over her bosom until it seemed that the silk between his hands and her flesh must melt away-all of her felt as if it had been compressed into the area of her bosom and the deep cleft between the round mounds of female flesh opened and closed with her excited breathing as if it, itself, was the aching female void palpitating to be filled.
Greedily, Ludmilla reached down and unzipped his pants. She grabbed for the Relevant member with both hands. She found it firm as Russian steel, hot as boiled borscht, heavy with sour cream, intoxicating as vodka. After a moment she removed one hand and clawed at the silk blouse until her breasts swung free. Then she sprawled over his lap, writhing until she’d managed to catch his manhood between her breasts. Her flesh closed around it and she held him tightly as a glove.
Writhing, her breast tips grazed his thighs and then, as she wriggled into a different position, his belly. She paused for a moment to push his pants down so the hot hardness of her nipples might be felt directly against the muscles of his thighs and belly. And all the time her breast flesh pulsated tightly around the hardness of his lust.
Crouching the way she was, Ludmilla’s derriere protruded upward in front of Ivan Relevant’s eyes. The mini-skirt had ridden up over the well-rounded flare of her hips to reveal the garter belt holding up the net stockings. She wore no panties. The pink-flushed globes quivered with her passion and Ivan Relevant couldn’t resist reaching out with both hands to caress them. She moaned audibly and her whole body trembled as he kneaded the plump flesh.
When he moved his hand to trace the separation between her buttocks to the core of her womanhood, her head jerked spasmodically, her breasts released him to be replaced by her greedy mouth stretching widely to encompass his outsize organ. One hand cupped his genitals, tickling, manipulating, tugging gently. Mindlessly, her lower body rose higher into the air until its nether mouth found his lips. His hands squeezed the globes of her buttocks and he sipped gently from the tight red lips of her femaleness. Then, as she ground against him, not so gently . . .
Ludmilla’s thigh muscles tensed and for a long moment it was as if she was trying to devour him with the maw of her sex. Then a series of explosions shook her body, one after another and she pressed so greedily that momentary contact was made with the back of her throat. Ivan Relevant’s release coincided with the peak of her ecstasy and it was sustained for a long time during which her throat contracted rapidly to absorb it.