From Russia With Love Pt 01 1

FROM RUSSIA WITH LOVE

PART ONE OF TWO

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THE UNEXPECTED

Author's notes: This story is the first in a three-part series and is about married couples swapping. If this is not your thing, or you think couples can't swap without someone being a cuckold, then read no further. This will not be your 'cup of tea'. Otherwise, I hope you enjoy.

This series is a rewrite of one I did under a different pen name several years ago. I liked the story line but not the execution, so I am rewriting it. And yes, I know, I'm plagiarizing myself. I'll sue me later.

The English dialogue by the Russian characters in this story is modified to give it an authentic feel. It is not grammatically correct, in English or in Russian. Russian has no form of the 'to be' verb in present tense, but I usually include them for the flow of dialogue. Also they do not have the articles 'the', 'a' or 'an', and I do leave them out, along with a few other tweaks.

Thank you for checking out my work. S.A.

PROLOGUE

With our son now in college and both of us moving into consulting jobs, we are able to vacation more frequently and in the off-season, which is great because we really do dislike the crowds and all the touristy hoopla that accompanies the regular vacation seasons. When you have children, you are tied to school schedules and 'kid-oriented' destinations - think mouse ears. We were very much looking forward to some more "adult" venues.

When we were planning our first empty-nesters adventure, we looked for an off-the-beaten-path destination; one that wouldn't be crowded; and that would offer a unique experience. As it turned out, we achieved all three goals.

Destination: An alpine lodge in the Ural Mountains in Russia. Through a business associate from Munich, I learned about the lodge, which sits next to the base of a small waterfall in the southern end of the Urals, north of Kazakhstan. Early October marks the beginning of the off-season there, and the serious weather doesn't usually come until mid to late November. This provides about a month-plus window of opportunity for a perfect, uncrowded and less pricey vacation.

The lodge is regionally famous for its beautiful accommodations, great spa, highly personalized service, and it's dramatic setting. It was once a retreat for high-ranking Soviet officials and elite members of the Politburo - and their mistresses. Now, it mostly caters to wealthy Russian 'capitalists' (mostly mobsters) - and their mistresses. The balance of its clientele consists of well-healed Eastern Europeans, the occasional Western European, and on rare occasions - an adventurous American or two.

This trip started with a week in St. Petersburg; a week traveling by rented car to Moscow, visiting some unique sites along the way; then catching a flight from Moscow to Yekaterinburg, our jumping off point for the week's stay at the lodge, rounding out our all-Russia, three-week vacation. This story is about our stay at the remote lodge.

Off the beaten path - Check!

Uncrowded - Check!

Unique experience - Check! (Trust me on this one.)

INTRODUCTIONS

Jan and I have been married 20 years and have one son. We are middle-upper class, conservative, and sexually moderate. When it comes to our sex life, about as far as we have ventured is reading adult erotica, fantasy role-play and some reasonably tame experimentation. Jan is mildly bi-curious, and we have entertained the idea of a liaison with another couple; those two areas provide most of the fodder for our fantasy role-play. But we have never had the collective nerve nor the right opportunity to actually participate in either.

I am James, 6'-1," and about 190 pounds. I am 45 years old and in pretty decent shape. I have a medium complexion, steel-blue eyes, and dark-blond/light-brown hair - still thick with only a light smattering of gray. I wear it in a long business cut, and I'm clean shaven. I have well-defined facial features, but nothing particularly striking - a distinct jawline with an average-sized nose and chin. According to my wife, and my mirror (lol), I am good looking. Women notice me, but don't go "gaga".

Physically, I am fairly well proportioned and reasonably well muscled, but not broad shouldered or barrel-chested and no washboard stomach. I jog faithfully and have a moderate exercise routine, but do not work out. We live a very active life style and are involved in a variety of outdoor activities that contribute to our good health and physical fitness.

My wife, Janine, 41, is a beautiful, auburn-haired pixie and she is hard to describe without giving the wrong impression. She is buxomy, but slim and petite. Essentially, she is a short, slender woman with big boobs and a big butt. No, not that big.

At 5'-2" and 110 pounds, she is a testament to the saying, "Dynamite comes in small packages." She has a very fair complexion and long, wavy, cinnamon-colored hair (natural), which are a striking combination by themselves but add her lovely, delicate facial features, small mouth with full lips, and striking, emerald green eyes to the mix, and you have a package that men do go "gaga" over.

Yes, she has a beautiful face, but her body is what initially attracts attention. Her petite, slender body is blessed with full C-cup breasts that are surprisingly firm; though age, a child, and gravity have had an effect - they spread slightly on her chest and have a moderate amount of declination, just enough to keep them from looking fake, which they are not. Her smooth, half-dollar-sized aureoles are also special, a sort of taupy-mauve color with moderate-sized, but pronounced nipples; they are quite distinctive against her very light complexioned skin. Now, size-C breasts would not be so noticeable on say, a woman who was 5'-8" and 140 pounds, but on my wife's petite, slender frame, they do stand out. Her derriere is her second, outstanding attribute. Like her breasts, it's not large, but for her diminutive physique, it is noticeable - full, rounded, and very firm, with no signs of sagging. She is an avid jogger, and unlike me, she works out - faithfully. Also, unlike me, she religiously protects her skin from the sun, so - no tan.

STORY

I. THE FIFTH KEY

We arrived at the lodge just after one p.m. and getting there was an adventure in itself. It was a long, exhausting trip - first, flying from Moscow to Yekaterinburg's Aramil Airport, then via ground transportation through the mountains to the lodge. In a shuttle provided by the lodge, we left in the morning, traveling over some of southern Russia's finest goat trails. The shuttle was a big, ugly, four-wheel drive, Hummer-like beast (a repurposed military vehicle, I suspect) that rode like it had rocks for springs, but it was warm, and it tenaciously plowed through the snow, mud, and sometimes rocky terrain. For a ways out of Yekaterinburg, the road was asphalt, but as we passed the last significant village and got into the mountains, it appeared to be packed gravel. However, where the gravel had been washed away, it was very rocky and/or muddy. The vehicle had no seatbelts, and a couple times we were thrown about the cab as we bounced over those sections (the driver didn't slow down for anything). Anyway, jostled and weary, we arrived safely. When we got to the lodge, I discovered that the V.I.P's get there by helicopter. We're L.I.P.'s - Less Important Persons.

(They have a helipad, which also gives them emergency medical capabilities - you know, in case one of the fat-cat V.I.P.'s has a heart attack because he got over amorous with his mistress. Note: Due to its remoteness, the lodge has the Russian equivalent of a P.A. on staff.)

When we pulled up at the lodge, we were greeted by a beautiful old, wood and stone, alpine building, located on a level space carved out of the sloping side of the mountain. There, breathtaking vistas greeted us in every direction, and an early snow blanketed everything. The only sounds came from the waterfall and stream splashing and gurgling in the background. It was a truly idyllic setting.

The lodge was charming, with lots of polished hardwoods, highly polished stone floors, and actual gas lanterns, along with unobtrusive modern lighting. Power for the facility was provided by a large generator, located a distance from the rear of the main building in a soundproofed shed.

After entering the lodge, we approached the front desk and the first thing I noticed was that only four of the 24 key boxes were empty. Hopefully that meant only four other rooms were occupied. Ours would make five. Perfect, no crowd!

The front desk informed us that we could get a late lunch and that dinner would be served at six p.m. Though we were hungry, we hadn't slept in 24 hours so we decided to rest and recharge, then freshen up and change clothes in time for dinner. We went to our gorgeous and surprisingly large room and crashed, setting an alarm for 4:30.

The main dining hall consisted of 14 or so semi-private dining cubicles along three walls; and the open area of the hall featured a long, heavy wooden table. Currently, it had 12 place settings, all at the near end, closest to the entrance and the kitchen. The first four chairs on the near side were occupied by a family of four, a younger couple with two pre-teen children. I guessed they were Eastern European. Across from them was a heavy-set couple in their late 50's to early 60's. We joined them on the far side. Easily guessing we were Westerners, they quickly greeted us in English with a thick Greek accent. As we exchanged pleasantries, the staff began taking orders. There were two basic entrees to choose from with several different sides available, and several bread and salad choices. They currently had three kinds of desserts, all which sounded fabulous. I was afraid that, if nothing else, we were going to get fat during this stay.

With our arrival, that left two other sets of visitors; and as our current company seemed nice, I was hoping the other patrons would be, also. There is almost nothing worse than unpleasant dinner guests.

We didn't have long to wait. A handsome, thirty-something couple, both of them very tall and immaculately dressed, entered the dining room, and seeing the children on one side, chose our side and sat down next to us. Right behind them came what appeared to be a mother and daughter dressed to the nine's. I later learned they were the family of a ranking government official who probably sent them off to give him time with his mistress. What? Me, cynical?

The dinner was not high-tone cuisine, but was flawlessly prepared and delicious, and the staff didn't hesitate to fill our wine glasses. So, by the end of dinner, not only were we sufficiently sated, all the adults on our side of the table were feeling good. The young family excused themselves as soon as they finished their meals - we might have gotten a bit too adult for the children. They were soon followed by the Russian mother and daughter. I think we were a little too common for their taste.

The rest of us retired to the lounge where we continued to drink, relax and have a few laughs. After a while, the Greek couple called it a night, leaving us with the young and obviously wealthy Russian couple, Viktor and Hanna. Viktor was from Georgia (a small, former Soviet holding -- Stalin's home country) and Hanna was originally from Finland.

Viktor had a handsome, if somewhat angular face with a full, but well-groomed mustache, brown eyes and a thick, dark head of hair. He looked to be in his mid to late thirties. He was taller than me at 6'-3" and had a slim build, probably weighing 180-ish.

Hanna was a striking blonde with her long hair worn unfettered and hanging well down her lower back, cut straight across just above her small buttocks. She had slim hips and small breasts. Her face was slender, but with softer features than Viktor's, and highlighted by mesmerizing, vivid-blue eyes. She had a slightly wide mouth with perfectly-shaped lips to give her a classically beautiful face. She was tall, at least 5'-10," and I guessed she weighed under 130 pounds. I estimated she was in her early thirties, maybe late twenties.

They both spoke fairly decent English, and with my passable Russian, we communicated quite well and got along even better. As we closed out the evening, they invited us to join them at the spa the next day, assuring us it was fabulous. We happily agreed and arranged to meet for breakfast before heading to the spa. After expressing our pleasure at making their acquaintance, we retired for the evening.

II. FRIENDLY MAIDS

When we got to our room, we went right to bed and were asleep before our heads hit the pillows. I didn't wake until sunlight streamed in through a gap in the drapes. After taking a quick, much needed trip to relieve myself, I went back to check on my wife. She was still sleeping soundly, so I jumped in the shower. It was a large, deep, doorless cubicle, done in a beautiful marble tile that had veins of gray running through a pale, salmon color. It was fitted with modern, top-notch fixtures, including large rain fixtures and handheld wands positioned on opposing walls.

As I stood under a cascade of hot water, I felt a small, cool hand gently take hold of my penis and start to stroke it, while another one reached around and cuddled my left butt cheek. Either the maid service here was exceptional or my wife had roused from her sleep.

"Morning, Miss. If you're here to make up the bed, you'll have to wait. My wife's still sleeping," I quipped.

A coquettish voice answered, "Oh, but sir, I am not here to do up the bed, I am here to do you up!"

I replied, "Whoops, honey, sorry, I thought you were the maid."

"You were going to 'do' the maid? Naughty boy...Anyway, I'm not sleepy now; I'm horny."

My wife and I have developed special techniques for performing felatio and cunnilingus in the shower to accommodate our different statures; and/or we have intercourse. For intercourse, my wife wraps her arms around my neck and her legs above my hips and bounces up and down on me like I was a carnival ride.

This morning was the carnival ride - lucky me.

This is not to say that all our lovemaking is repetitious. We love to experiment and improvise, and we take turns introducing new techniques and fantasies into our sex play.

Oh, be sure your relationship with your significant other is very secure before introducing a new technique in the bedroom. Otherwise, you will be dealing with, "So, just where did you learn that?"

III. WHO'S FOR BREAKFAST?

After our morning routine, we went downstairs and found our new acquaintances waiting for us in front of the dining hall. They approached us with open arms - Viktor first greeting me "La Bise" style, brushing each cheek lightly with his lips. Familiar with the custom from France and Italy, I reciprocated; likewise, Hanna greeted Jan in the same fashion, then they smoothly changed places. When Hanna kissed me, she dead-on kissed each cheek, placing her hands firmly on my shoulders, pressing against me; and Viktor gave Jan the same treatment.

After the kiss, Hanna stepped back, "Oh, I got lipstick on you," and used her thumb to wipe it off; then she hooked my arm and directed me towards the dining room. Viktor took Jan in tow and followed us in. As they walked us to the table, they were saying how happy they were to see us, and what a good time they had the night before. When we reached the table, Hanna led me to the far side and sat down with me. Viktor and Jan sat opposite us with Viktor in front of me, and Hanna opposite Jan. Personally, I was caught of guard by the maneuver - separating us like that. When we sat, Viktor asked how we slept.

"So, James, how was your first night?"

"We slept like the dead."

"Of course. Trip here is grueling but well worth it, yes?"

I agreed, "Yes, this place is absolutely charming, and the amenities and furnishings are impressive."

Beside me, Hanna engaged Jan, "Janine, we had wonderful time with you, last night. We are so pleased to have your acquaintance."

"Same for us, Hanna. It was so nice to meet someone whose company is so enjoyable."

The pleasant conversation continued throughout breakfast, but at some point, Hanna started accompanying certain statements by patting my leg. As breakfast progressed, she would leave her hand there longer, and occasionally, she would lightly rub my leg. Her warm hand and soft touch were distracting to say the least. Ever so often, she would also give my thigh a squeeze...once, very close to my groin. Patting, rubbing, squeezing - it was all disconcerting; and a little too familiar for comfort. Another time, as she was laughing at something Jan said, her hand, now resting with fingertips on the inside of my thigh, rubbed back and bumped the end of my not so flaccid penis. This happened a couple of times, and she gave no indication she was teasing my dick under the table. That's when I first suspected we were being seduced. I couldn't think of another explanation. I periodically looked at Jan to see if she was getting a similar treatment, but she gave no indication that anything was amiss.

Most of my conversation was with Viktor, which I did have trouble concentrating on, but I managed. I was enjoying his company, and as Russians go, his sense of humor was very Western, and his personality was not as flamboyant as it first seemed. He was constantly smiling, and it was contagious. I found myself smiling and really enjoying getting to know our new friends. I saw Jan had relaxed and was having an equally good time with Hanna. So, all was fine - except the aforementioned touching.

When the staff began clearing the table, I asked Viktor and Hanna if we could have 30 minutes before we headed to the spa. Viktor happily agreed and suggested we meet in front of the spa entrance.

As soon as we got to the privacy of our room, we both started speaking at the same time, "Can you believe that greeting...and how they maneuvered us to sit next to them...and she was actually rubbing my leg and touching my...and he had his hand on my thigh, almost between my legs, rubbing it like..."

"What?" I said, "Did you say he had his hand between your legs?"

"Yes. And didn't you start to say she was touching your dick?" Jan returned.

Then she asked, "Are we overreacting? Or are they perverts, or what?"

"I'm pretty sure they're swingers," I answered. "I went over last night in my head though, and no red flags. It seemed like any other meet and drink with new acquaintances, but this morning..."

"What do we do?" my wife fretted.

"I don't know, but I don't want to be rude. On the other hand, if they're on the prowl, I don't want to give the wrong impression."

"Yeah, and we are their next prey!" my wife added.

"Well, we have to decide how to handle this." I said.

Jan questioned, "Do we call and tell them we can't make it?"

"Hell, I don't know...and tell them what?"

Jan shrugged - not a lot of help.

I thought a second then offered, "We're going to be here for a week. Depending on how long they're here, I don't think we can avoid them the whole time. And there is a possibility we are overreacting. Let's get going. We will be in a public place; it'll be fine. Besides, all this drama has left me tied up in knots. A relaxing trip to the spa sounds like the ticket."

Jan agreed, and after hitting the bathroom and freshening up, we headed to the lobby to join our new, unique friends.

IV. YOU'RE F#%KING KIDDING

When we arrived, Viktor and Hanna were waiting and greeted us with bright smiles.

Viktor spoke up "You are ready for sauna?"