The Flu
(I wrote this story in 2008 and didn't think it was good enough to post here previously. However, considering the events of late, and with some polishing, here it is.)
Ustin and Manon met while on holiday in Prague and fell in love at first sight. Ustin was Russian and Manon was French. He loved Manon's impulsive ways and she loved his strong resilience. They were the poster-couple for young beauty, love, and little more than dreams.
Other than the language of love the only words they shared in common were a smattering of Portuguese. Nevertheless, theirs was a whirlwind romance ending in engagement after two short weeks.
They were back in Shuvalovka by the end of the next week, getting married the very next morning.
That was the day a letter arrived from Manon's uncle in America whom she had only met once as a small girl. Neither of them could read English and when they had it interpreted they learned that he had passed away and left them a small dairy farm in Wisconsin, a plane ticket, and a French/English phrase book.
Ustin sold his '64 Zaporozhet, emptied his bank account, and liquidated all his assets, which were not worth much since the collapse of the Russian stock market. Together they had enough to buy another plane ticket and embarked that same morning.
Manon was seated in first class while Ustin was relegated to third class, but they were overjoyed at least to be on the same plane. If they had known about the mile high club there is no doubt that they would have consummated their, as yet, unconsummated marriage. Alas they were just thrilled to be starting a new life together. Their plan being to first establish financial security, and only then to have children.
When they arrived in Milwaukee Ustin was worried that they wouldn't have enough money left to take a cab to their new farm - let alone buy anything to eat, and he did his best to communicate that to Manon.
She had no cares about food, being so engrossed in her new role as blushing bride. But she was very worried, for no good reason, that if Ustin did not take her virginity officially as a married couple that they would be deported. She had spent the whole flight looking through her phrasebook trying to find the right words for "deflowering."
By the time she told Ustin what she wanted and he tried to look it up using his recently purchased English/Russian phrasebook, what he understood was that she wanted him to weed her cat.
He just smiled weakly and drew her close in a warm embrace, but since she was pointing frantically to her pussy, he imagined that 'weeding the cat' meant she wanted him to bury his face in her pubes as soon as possible.
He had no objection to throwing her back on their new honeymoon bed the first instant they arrived in Cambridge, WI to then 'graze the watercress,' which would have been the french way to say it if any of the risque words at all had been in his phrasebook, or if either of them owned a Russian/French phrasebook.
Full of excitement and fear they held hands, as only new lovebirds would, and never let go until he carried her across the threshold.
True to his understanding of her expectations Ustin promptly carried Manon to the bed, threw up her dress, and lapped studiously at her moist nether lips until she, taking a fistful of hair in each hand, pulled him up.
She could taste her own pussy on his lips and it turned her on, though Ustin would not know that for quite a while, and at the moment, he was put off because she was rummaging around in her purse - trying to retrieve some condoms.
Their first time as newlyweds in their new home was amazing as they explored each other's bodies and each other's desires. Perhaps it was even better as they could barely talk and they needed to rely on moans and smiles that much more to know what the other liked.
Next they explored the farm and discovered that they had inherited a dairyless dairy farm. If they could have read English they would have found the letter from the animal control officer at the police department telling dead Uncle Charles that all the animals had been impounded because they were being neglected and that they would be returned after a hefty fine was paid.
Still, they were the proud owners of a farmhouse, a barn, a shed and a few miscellaneous buildings on about ten acres of beautiful midwest rolling fields, and they fucked in each building as well as in the middle of the fields the first week.
That first year was a year of unbridled sex which at least once included a zuchinni from the garden that Manon had planted so they could set up a farmers market and earn some money to buy cows. No one ever came to their market as they were a bit out of the way, but Manon did manage to can about two hundred pounds of vegetables and store the jars in the tornado shelter.
One day they were passing the empty mink cages which came with the farm and Ustin was grinning stupidly and gesturing rudely that they should make like the minks and screw wildly.
Always ready, Manon grinned, and that was all it took. They shed their shirts rapidly, then impulsively Manon decided it would be fun to climb the ladder up to the loft. Shaking her skirt she beckoned, "Attrapez-moi." Then wiggling her butt enticingly she flashed her cunt to her dear husband and he scrambled up as fast as he could, sticking his nose amid her aromatic cleft from underneath her on the ladder every time he caught up.
Playing the game she would let him lick her puss for a few minutes each time before scrambling further up the rackety ladder. They were a very orally inclined couple, which worked in their favor whenever they were far from the bedroom, where they kept their limited, and expensive, supply of condoms.
Rolling in the proverbial hay, soon enough they were pleasuring each other simultaneously. For the first time ever she saw another person's back door. Glimpsing his tight bung briefly she wasn't grossed out, rather, she was worried that he would see hers and that he would be grossed out.
Likewise, Ustin did see hers but his only thought was, "It's surprising that it's not a turn off." They still finished each other off taking the time to burrow into each other's privates at length.
Unfortunately, it was later when they jumped down from the loft naked, that they both sprained an ankle and found themselves housebound for a couple of weeks. It was also one of the best things that could have happened to them.
Not only did they recline in each other's arms all day and make love often, but they couldn't make any trips into town which had, unknown to them, quickly taken a dangerous turn.
A flu pandemic had begun that day they kissed each others' sex parts in the loft and it was spreading rapidly to anyone who was unlucky enough to interact with just about anyone.
By day two, 20% of the nation had what was not an ordinary flu and some with weakened systems were already developing pneumonia or dying from other complications.
By day five, and unknown to the young lovers, the TV they rarely watched, was advising all citizens to stay home and warning that the health department would be out culling chickens who were the source of the flu.
The frisky couple never even knew that the army-green jeeps and an old commandeered truck, arrived to kill and pick up chickens. You see, at the time Manon was bent over an odd apparatus in the water-shed with Ustin's tongue delicately circling and stabbing at her cute pink asshole.
Anilingus was minutes new to both of them since they had just discovered it. They didn't even know what it was called in any language let alone with any shared words.
Only two hours before They had been wandering the North pasture when it started to drizzle and they happened upon the stone structure built over a stream. Inside they found an odd mechanism and with some experimentation figured out that it's purpose was to divert the stream so it flowed either East or West.
That's not really relevant to the story. What was pivotal was that, while turning a large wheel made from a barrel, Manon had fallen prone across the device and screamed out as she slipped. Ustin, with his developing English, misunderstood her emerging English. Thinking she had blurted out something meaning, "Tongue my ass" as she threw herself over the barrel, he decided it was a brilliant suggestion and put himself to the delightful task immediately.
Meanwhile, finding herself in danger of being rolled over to the other side she shrieked joyfully when he grabbed her by the hips. She was totally shocked, but pleasantly surprised, when with a pucker he kissed her sensitive sphincter. She didn't know enough about sex to think it either mundane or bizzare. After the first swipe at her delicate brownie he asked, "Da?"
She spoke that much Russian, and he knew enough French to throw himself into the act when she replied, "Oui! Oui!"
Together the lovers learned that they really craved the act, so he spent a considerable amount of time just licking her gratified asshole.
Ustin was thinking, "Amazing how every part of my girl is so sexy, from her smile to her toes, she's the best. It's strange how even her shitter turns me on. A woman's pussy is an obvious and natural object to worship with its enticing odor and soft lips. But for as much as I love to nibble and bite, pulling on her labia, it's just as great to get my lips on her arse."
"Never in my wildest dreams would I imagine that I would lick a girl's butt, but Manon is so special and her crinkled ring just draws me in." He took a deep inhalation, "Marvelous! Even her ass smells good. Earthy and musty but fresh. I want more."
He decided to run his tongue around it in circles, feeling the tiny donut shape. "It's incredible how this majestic feast normally has such a base function. I can't get over the rubbery firm texture - so different from her kiska."
He wondered if he could get his tongue inside like he did when he ate her quim. Backing off a few inches he used his fingers to massage her perineum and anus. Then getting one thumb on either side he stretched it out barely able to see inside. "OK let's see if I can get my tip in there. If it's ever gonna taste bad, now will be the time." Talking out loud he spoke to himself in Russian,
"Are you ready Ustin?"
Listening to him talk to himself back there, Manon had her own conversation going even if it consisted almost entirely of mewling moans and delighted sighs. In perfect Portuguese she whimpered the most appropriate phrase she could think of that he would know, "Do you like your dinner?"
Ustin laughed out loud, breaking the mood of raw sexuality briefly. Then also in Portuguese he answered, "You are a most hospitable host." Then returned to his quest to meld his mouth with her rectum. He formed his tongue into a point then poked.
