Irkutsk Ch 03

You need to start at the Chapter 1 of this story. Thank you for your feedback and votes. Positive or negative, I want to know whether you like where I am taking you.

First day Nos 2 & 3: The volleyballers

We were awoken by another Princess tapping me on the shoulder. She was holding a dressing gown out for me. I got out of bed, wrapped myself in the gown and followed her into the next room. The Goddess was waiting there. She told me that the next two Princesses, the one who had just awoken me and one other wanted to share their time. "Is that OK?"

I thought about that for a moment "ummm".

The Goddess quickly reached down and grabbed me by the balls. "That was a rhetorical question. Of course it's OK."

"Yes Goddess. Sorry Goddess." She gave me extra time to prepare for this double date, giving me two hours to relax. I went into my room, quickly ran my spa bath and lay down in it for an entire hour. I then got into bed for almost another hour, getting up just in time to dress in casual clothes and make myself presentable.

I was ready and waiting when the knock came. The door opened and the two women came in. Both had elfin hairstyles, both were very tall (over six feet) and slim. The one on the left said that they had been the Olympic Beach Volleyball Team. Looking at them, I could believe it. She also said they were gay. Being gay was not permitted, but under the circumstances here they had been able to get away with it. Of course no-one had wondered why they did not have relationships with men. Until now of course. They were worried about how my arrival would affect their ability to carry on their affair.

I told them that if the Goddess asked me a direct question I would have to tell her the truth, but apart from that I would not reveal their secret. What did they want to do for the next six hours? I'd be happy to be their alibi - that is, to let people think they were using me to relieve their pent-up desire, when in fact they could be alone together. They liked that idea for the future, but they had an idea they wanted to try which required a man. (I might as well say now that despite the friendship that developed, neither of them gave me their name that day and I simply referred to them both as Princess, but thought of them as "The Volleyballers".)

With no embarrassment at all the one on the left told me that while they loved each other's bodies, oral sex, dildoes and vibrators didn't always do it for them. What they wanted to do was to sit on me, one impaled on my erect penis and one on my busy tongue, each getting the stimulation they needed for their pussies, while they faced each other making love to each other.

"Get those clothes off and lie on your back in the middle of your bed." I did so, but one part of my anatomy wasn't cooperating yet. They quickly took off their clothes, and one fellated me while the other knelt astride me and masturbated right above my face.

I noted that neither had any pubic hair whatsoever and nor was there any sign of razor rash or wax burn. Both had inner labia hanging down over an inch for much of their length, and large erect clitorises sticking out proudly from under their hoods. Their genitalia looked enthusiastic and extroverted and ready – no, overdue - for vigorous use, which seemed to suit them.

I asked if they were sisters - No, but we are identical in every way that matters. For two gay ladies they were doing a good job of getting me interested. Once I started to rise, though, they got into position and I knew they had forgotten about the irrelevant person underneath them - they were interested only in the two pieces of anatomy they needed.

Fortunately, however, what they were doing to me visually and from the tactile contact with their bodies was sufficient to get me completely hard and keep me that way long enough for the two of them to get their rocks off simultaneously, once, twice, then three times.

Eventually I got a possible way to distinguish them. The Princess on my face eventually squirted on me, leaving me bubbling and gasping for a while. The other one was very well lubricated, but did not actually squirt. After the third pair of orgasms they swapped places for a while, achieving another two each. Although I was drenched, at least this time I was not at risk of drowning!

Then they moved a few inches from me and settled down in my bed face to face kissing and cuddling, while I was able to get some sleep. I can only guess at what they were doing most of that time, but when I awoke they were asleep in each other's arms. I tried to slide out of bed unobtrusively, but I saw one eye open and its owner asked me if I was OK.

"Yes thank you Princess. I'm just trying not to disturb you." However, that short exchange was enough to wake the other Princess and they sat up, both indicating that I should sit up with them.

We sat cross-legged in a circle facing into the middle of the bed. I could remember sitting like this with a couple of mates when I was about ten, but my mates hadn't looked anything like these two. I couldn't take my eyes off their small, firm, high breasts, small erect nipples with perfectly round circles around them, only about the size of a 20c piece. (Would I ever see a 20c piece again?). The four breasts were almost identical to each other. I saw them looking at me, and it was clear they knew what I was staring at. "Sorry, they are so beautiful I couldn't take my eyes off them."

"That's OK - if you don't mind us getting it on in your bed while you are lying beside us, or indeed underneath us, I think we can cope with your looking at our breasts. How can you cope with being with us when we are getting it on? Don't you find it repulsive?"

I couldn't understand the question. What could be repulsive about two beautiful women making love with each other? I told them I found it sexy, not unpleasant at all, even apart from the sensual pleasure they had given me. Apparently, however, the men they had known had regarded lesbianism as disgusting and perverted.

I explained that these attitudes had been common in Australia not so long ago, and there still existed pockets of such old-fashioned ideas there. I suggested that gradually the same changes would happen in Russia, although I could not give any prediction of the future for this group, the Lady Brigade. Russia's negative reaction to those it should have celebrated as heroines was so alien to me that I could not predict whether or how it might change.

For myself, however, appreciating women as I do, I could understand how each of the Volleyballers could appeal to the other. And I thought the Lady Brigade was a gathering of the sexiest women I had ever met. I was beginning to learn that at least some of them were intelligent, charming and would have been wonderful company even without the sex.

The Volleyballers told me how much they appreciated my contribution to their love life, and asked me what I wanted them to do for me. Only a week ago if two such sexy women asked me this question, even gay women, I would immediately have thought up an X-rated list filling several pages, but some of those fantasies had already been fulfilled recently and it seemed others would be taken care of very soon.

I told them this, and that since I would be getting all the sex I could want, and probably even just a little more than that, I was really happy to help them with their lives. I felt that we could be helpful to each other, them in bringing me up to date with Russian customs in general and those of the Lady Brigade in particular, while just maybe I could talk to them about the acceptance of non-mainstream sex in Australia. Oh, and if they ever wanted to sit on me again while they made love with each other then perhaps I could tolerate that too.

We sat there for hours talking about sex, and Russia and Australia: our own little mutual appreciation society. Eventually our time was up and we got dressed, hugged and kissed each other and said farewell for now. I had only an hour to prepare for number four for the day, but had already caught up a little on my sleep.

I went for a stroll around the building's underground areas, getting a feel for the layout and saying hello to a few Princesses on the way. I felt as if the Volleyballers had given me a little breathing space. I was ready and in my room comfortably in time for the next knock on my door.

First Day No 4: Muscles

Bang bang bang! The door flew open and in walked a determined-looking woman barely covered by a brief silk wrap and wearing nothing else. She had muscles everywhere! Even her jaw muscles were sharply defined. She walked in and immediately dropped the wrap. She looked ready to pose for a body builders' magazine. A short bob haircut and not a single hair anywhere below except for her eyes.

She told me to take my clothes NOW off, grab from my bed a pillow, place on the floor it and on my back lie with under my buttocks the pillow. She was the only person I had heard here so far who did not speak perfect English. To be fair, her vocabulary was good but her idiom was a little awry, and she had a marked accent.

She wasn't messing around either - this was going to be sex, not lovemaking. Still that was why I was here, and I had been told in the clearest possible way that that was my purpose here. In any case, I wouldn't dare challenge her, she could rip my head off and shove it up... well, do horrible things to it even with one hand tied behind her back. I did as she said.

She knelt over me and took me into her mouth sucking hard and sliding up and down. She shifted around so she was straddling me and her labia were sweeping my nose. I took the hint and started sliding my tongue up and down them.

"Oooh yes. More, more!" So more she got. As soon as I was hard she stood up, spun around and slid herself down over me. And then I learned what she could do with those muscles besides lifting weights! She squeezed me tight, and I got the impression that she was being gentle with me otherwise she would have crushed my pathetic penis to dust.

"The nipples, the nipples!" Deciding that she seemed to like vigorous sex, I reached up and grabbed her small nipples, hanging on to them for dear life.

Again; "Oooh, yes. More, more!"

So I squeezed harder and twisted. She liked this, but it was still dangerous. She settled herself hard on me and without noticeably moving her body, she started massaging me with her internal muscles. Not only had nothing like this ever happened before, I had never even heard about it.

Although I was not moving except for my grip on her nipples, and she was not moving in any way that I could see, she and I were both getting the benefit of whatever the hell it was that was happening inside her.

By now I didn't even know if I was hard or soft. I was being milked as if I were inserted into a milking machine, not that I knew what that felt like. Five minutes after she had walked into my room, she sucked me dry and then started shaking violently, so hard I felt I was being shaken to pieces. Less than a minute later she gave a roar and gradually settled down lying forward on top of me.

After a moment she looked at me and said "That good was. Soon again we do! What do now we do while recover you?"

I suggested that we talk about her life leading up to the Olympics. It didn't surprise me at all to learn that she was a weightlifter. Being noticeably stronger than others at the age of three, she was taken to an advanced development training school where her entire life was geared towards muscular development and lifting technique.

The Russian athletic machine decided that the best way to manage her enormous talent was to keep her out of the public eye until the last possible moment before the Olympics. By the time of the Olympic qualifying she was lifting more than the male lifters in her weight class. She was a certainty for the gold medal. However, the international drug watchdogs decided she must be a drug cheat and found a way to keep her out of the competition even though she had failed no drug test.

Now she couldn't do the one thing she had spent her life single-mindedly focusing on, she was useless and an embarrassment. In Russia she became the "poster girl" of what was wrong with the women's Olympic team and the most reviled of all. She had not been able to cope with this (I certainly wouldn't have coped under the circumstances) and fell into depression.

It was not until the Goddess had brought her into the Lady Brigade that she was able to find any enjoyment in life. She was young and healthy and heterosexual and found her rejection by Russian men hard to cope with physically as well as emotionally. She knew she was not the only one suffering like this, but her personal suffering was such that she felt unable even to think about the suffering of the others.

I asked her what she did during the day. I was still learning about day to day life here. She told me she did the heavy lifting (I guess that was pretty obvious!) and looked after the motor vehicles and other machinery.

Like most Australian men in the seventies, I had spent a good part of my youth under the bonnet of various illegally modified cars, and we spent some time chatting about the problems of maintaining temperamental cars. I then pointed out that I was enjoying talking to her, but I was finding her a bit heavy lying on me.

She immediately got up and apologised. In the meantime I got a good look at her amazing body. I was unable to resist stroking the inside of her thigh. Her skin felt like silk stretched over ropes. It might sound odd, but if felt wonderful. She seemed to enjoy the contact.

I suggested that we go to my bed and lie down to talk, and I would continue to stroke her. I was surprised at her response. "I know the Goddess has forced you with us to have sex, and thank you I for that, but you don't have maintain just for me the act. I will want in two hours sex again, but until then you can yourself enjoy and not comfort me."

This approach bothered me. "What if I enjoy talking to you? What if enjoying myself means being with you?"

Now she was confused. Why would I want to be with her if I didn't have to be?

Were we having a language problem? How could I explain this? So I asked: "Do you like my company when we're not actually having sex?" Yes, she did. "So why can't I enjoy being with you? We are getting on well with each other aren't we?"

She thought about that for a while. "But all I am is muscles just, while interesting you are."

I had to stop this self-esteem issue quickly. "If you are just muscles, and I am old, weak and flabby, compared with you, how can you find me interesting? If you find me interesting, then I must be able to touch something in you that is not just muscles."

She came back at me with a glint in her eye: "You inside me deep touched some nerves that the best orgasm I have had ever gave me."

Ah! Here was an opportunity. "So you have a sense of humour. That is one of the most important elements of a personality that attracts others. Also you are interested in what I want and what I like. That is another. What gave you the idea that you are not enjoyable company?"

She told me that she had focused all her energies on her physical strength. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her about the old saying "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy", but that seemed to give the wrong message. Instead I told her that I would want to spend time with her even if we were not sexual, although I'd rather enjoy both aspects of her company.

She was still not convinced, challenging me to sacrifice another episode of sex to talk to her. I agreed immediately and suggested that we get dressed and go for a walk around the area. This was not the right answer, because she immediately accused me of not fancying her sexually.

I had to be a little careful here - eventually I said I'd be delighted to do either or both, and the real problem was that I had only a limited amount of time to spend with her. I asked her to choose whatever she wanted to do for our remaining time together today, and I'd be delighted to do it with her. I was hoping, of course, that she didn't want to wrestle with me. She chose to stay here and keep talking for a while, and then in our last half hour we could explore each other's bodies again.

We talked about the Australian countryside and bush, social conditions in Australia, my past relationships, my ideal woman, politics, Islam, Christianity and the morality of those without religion.

I was really enjoying myself when suddenly she looked at the clock and made a beeline for my groin with her mouth. In no time flat I was filling her mouth with what she had been seeking, and she spat it out onto her hands and rubbed it on her muscular thighs. "To by your smell remember you" she said. Then she apologised for the suddenness of the change of pace, saying she had just noticed we only had a few minutes left and she wanted another taste.

I asked her to have a long think about what she wanted to do with me next time, and that I would do whatever she chose to do and that I would enjoy it, no matter how unusual. She promised to do that, glanced at the clock, gave me a quick hug and a kiss and bounced out the door as if on springs. She was stark naked and sticky when she closed the door on me with three seconds to spare.

Day 1: survived and revisited

So. That was my four sessions, or at least two singles and a double. The end of a very long day. I had had the best day of my life. Was I already suffering from Stockholm Syndrome, or was this really the life for me? I knew that there was no lifestyle I could possibly have imagined that would have had me having such varied sex so often with so many beautiful women. Whatever it was, I felt great...and very tired. Then came another knock on the door. The Goddess came in, and she was frowning. The look on her face worried me.

"What have you been doing with my family? I asked you to satisfy their sexual needs and you start psychoanalysing them. I have never seen Dominika smile before and she bounced out of your room as happy as a lark! (Ah, so her name was Dominika - I'd remember that.) What have you been doing?"

Now I had to be careful. This lady, no this Goddess, had the capacity to make my life miserable, or very short indeed. And as I had learned today, she could make me very happy indeed. What was the right answer?

But she was a Goddess, and she knew what I was thinking. "No considering what is the safest answer - just tell me what happened." So I did.

"I'm not sure how much you know about men, or at least me, but I simply cannot fuck like a machine for hours on end. I did have sex with every one of the four girls, and I think each one enjoyed it, but after we had both exhausted our energies - no, to be fair I'd have to say after we had exhausted my capacity - I lay with them and enjoyed a very different type of intercourse that I regard as just important as the actual penetrative sex.

We talked about all sorts of things. I don't know how not to do that as part of the whole exercise. I don't know how you'd stop me doing that - perhaps you could box me up with my penis sticking out and feed me on Viagra. But if you wanted that sort of servicing, why don't you give them all dildos, or something similar? If you want the full lovemaking service, the conversation comes as an inseparable part of the deal."

"So what about Ma... - the beach volleyball team?" This was even more dangerous ground. Perhaps I should just plead guilty and accept the death penalty. The Goddess seemed to know my thoughts. I wondered why she bothered asking questions; she would have learned just as much from staring into my eyes. "Regard yourself as being on oath in court. Tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I will find out anyway and you will be severely punished if you commit perjury." I was still naked and she made a fist and moved it as if to stick it up my arse. I got the message.