Part 2 - with improvements

On his way back he met with a little adventure. When he had gone half-way he noticed he had taken a wrong turning. He distinctly remembered that he ought to meet three sleepy footmen on his way, but he had passed five or six rooms, and those sleepy figures seemed to have vanished into the earth. Noticing his mistake, he walked back a little way and turned to the right; he found himself in a little dark room which he had not seen on his way to the billiard-room. After standing there a little while, he resolutely opened the first door that met his eyes and walked into an absolutely dark room. Straight in front could be seen the crack in the doorway through which there was a gleam of vivid light; from the other side of the door came the muffled sound of a melancholy mazurka. Here, too, as in the drawing-room, the windows were wide open and there was a smell of poplars, lilac and roses. . . .

Ryabovitch stood still in hesitation. . . . At that moment, to his surprise, he heard hurried footsteps and the rustling of a dress, a breathless feminine voice whispered "At last!" And two soft, fragrant, unmistakably feminine arms were clasped about his neck; a warm cheek was pressed to his cheek, and simultaneously there was the sound of a kiss. But at once the bestower of the kiss uttered a faint shriek and skipped back from him, as it seemed to Ryabovitch, with aversion. He, too, almost shrieked and rushed towards the gleam of light at the door. Instead though, he turned and caught the unknown female about her waist and pulled her to him. Giddy with the evening’s festivities, he turned his face towards hers in the darkness and found her lips soft and yeilding. After a moment’s nervous hesitation, Ryabovitch felt her hands on his back snaking upwards to cling to his shoulders.

Afraid to break the kiss for fear of her reaction or even that this might break such a magical spell, he kept his lips locked on hers and pulled her by the satin covered waist tightly to him, impressing on her the solid mass of his penis through his military trousers. On doing so, this seemed to galvanize her. She pulled her head back for a moment then whispered, a disembodied voice in the darkness, “We shall have to be quick. They shall miss us at the dance”.

Ryabovitch did not understand her haste as he felt that he was hardly noticed there at all. However his heart leaped in his chest when she dropped quickly to her knees and began unbuttoning his flies. He fumbled his army issue braces from his shoulders while his new paramour slipped her soft hand inside his britches and pulled out his aching cock.

Feeling like he should say or do something, he did neither yet was astonished to feel the sudden heat on his member and gentle stimulation. The woman had taken him into her mouth! Ryabovitch rocked on his heels as she began thrusting her lips downwards towards his abdomen over and over again. Her hands slipped round behind him to grip onto his buttocks, thus allowing her more control over her motions. He reached down tentatively and put his hands on her head, feeling her lustrous curls. In his imagination she took on the image of a Goddess. He tried to picture the ladies at the dance but could not think of anyone who might be so perfect, or who might be inclined to deliver such a gift upon him.

In the darkness, he felt that there was neither time nor space, just himself and this most beautiful young lady who was in the process of sucking his cock so deliciously. Ryabovitch could feel himself getting restless though. Despite the delirious joy of his situation, he was beginning to push himself towards his mistress even as she pushed her face closer and closer towards him, sucking him so beautifully. As a result of one such thrust, he heard her make a retching sound and suddenly pull back from him. Fearing he had spoiled this moment of sublime ecstacy, Ryabovitch began to panic and reached down to feel for his angelic visitor. As he put his hands on her shoulders, hoping in some way to convince her to resume her task, he felt instead, her hands on his wrists, pulling him forwards.

Ryabovitch lost his balance and stumbled to his knees, but the girl was not there, she too had moved backwards and continued to pull at his wrists causing him to sprawl forwards on top of her. At this, he discovered she had hitched her skirts up. Without understanding what he was doing, Ryabovitch crawled forwards letting his cock find its way directly to its target. As soon as it was presented at her pussy lips, his lady raised her hips and he was instantly fully docked with her.

If the sensation of her mouth was blissful, this new experience was perfection. He had no idea that such intercourse would be so intense. Her warm moist pussy welcomed him as if an old friend. She threw her arms around his neck and hung on as he began to thrust into her. Although Ryabovitch had never done anything of this nature before it seemed somehow natural to him, here, in the dark, and he slammed home his cock deep inside her over and over again.

The lady beneath him panted heavily in his ear in time with these thrusts, and he took it as a positive sign that she was not complaining or pushing him away. He marveled that she did not reject him. For what felt like an eternity, Ryabovitch continued to fuck his way through this magical encounter until inevitably, eventually, he could feel his pressure rising.

That he knew he was almost ready to blow was not the only change however, The woman beneath him had become more animated. Her hands gripped his uniform shirt tightly and her hips thrust up to meet him almost as determinedly as his were in the other direction. Her inside seemed to grapple with him, sending ripples of pleasure from her to him. She had found her voice too. Until now, they had maintained their silence, each he assumed, not wanting to be disturbed by external sources. Yet now, she was giving voice, if quietly, to her passions. For the most part it was incoherent squeals. However, towards the final stages she began to yell quiet encouragement "Oh. Yes. Fuck me! oh yes!".

Ryabovitch sensed her buck underneath him as his balls released their cargo in spasm after spasm of delirium. Finally, spent, he felt himself relax and slump on top of her. However, he felt her pull to one side of him, then heard a whispered, "I must go", and she extricated herself from his arms and was gone a moment later, leaving Ryabovitch to see a shadow as she slipped through the doorway and closed it again behind herself.

Hurriedly, he got himself to his feet and re-arranged his uniform then followed her out into the passageway.

When he went back into the drawing-room his heart was beating and his hands were trembling so noticeably that he made haste to hide them behind his back. At first he was tormented by shame and dread that the whole drawing-room knew that he had just been kissed, embraced and fucked by a woman. He shrank into himself and looked uneasily about him, but as he became convinced that people were dancing and talking as calmly as ever, he gave himself up entirely to the new sensation which he had never experienced before in his life. Something strange was happening to him. . . . His neck, round which soft, fragrant arms had so lately been clasped, seemed to him to be anointed with oil; on his left cheek near his moustache where the unknown had kissed him there was a faint chilly tingling sensation as from peppermint drops, and the more he rubbed the place the more distinct was the chilly sensation; all over, from head to foot, he was full of a strange new feeling which grew stronger and stronger. . . . He wanted to dance, to talk, to run into the garden, to laugh aloud. . . . He quite forgot that he was round-shouldered and uninteresting, that he had lynx-like whiskers and an "undistinguished appearance" (that was how his appearance had been described by some ladies whose conversation he had accidentally overheard). When Von Rabbek's wife happened to pass by him, he gave her such a broad and friendly smile that she stood still and looked at him inquiringly.

"I like your house immensely!" he said, setting his spectacles straight.

The General's wife smiled and said that the house had belonged to her father; then she asked whether his parents were living, whether he had long been in the army, why he was so thin, and so on. . . . After receiving answers to her questions, she went on, and after his conversation with her his smiles were more friendly than ever, and he thought he was surrounded by splendid people. . . .

At supper Ryabovitch ate mechanically everything offered him, drank, and without listening to anything, tried to understand what had just happened to him. . . . The adventure was of a mysterious and romantic character, but it was not difficult to explain it. No doubt some girl or young married lady had arranged a tryst with some one in the dark room; had waited a long time, and being nervous and excited had taken Ryabovitch for her hero; this was the more probable as Ryabovitch had stood still hesitating in the dark room, so that he, too, had seemed like a person expecting something. . . . This was how Ryabovitch explained to himself the kiss he had received and everything that followed.

"And who is she?" he wondered, looking round at the women's faces. "She must be young, for elderly ladies don't give rendezvous. That she was a lady, one could tell by the rustle of her dress, her perfume, her voice. . . ." In his mind, he could still hear her enthusiastically imploring her to fuck her. Her voice sounded young and her skin was softer than any he had ever touched.

His eyes rested on the lilac young lady, and he thought her very attractive; she had beautiful shoulders and arms, a clever face, and a delightful voice. Ryabovitch, looking at her, hoped that she and no one else was his unknown. . . . But she laughed somehow artificially and wrinkled up her long nose, which seemed to him to make her look old. Then he turned his eyes upon the fair girl in a black dress. She was younger, simpler, and more genuine, had a charming brow, and drank very daintily out of her wineglass. Ryabovitch now hoped that it was she. But soon he began to think her face flat, and fixed his eyes upon the one next her.

"It's difficult to guess," he thought, musing. "If one takes the shoulders and arms of the lilac one only, adds the brow of the fair one and the eyes of the one on the left of Lobytko, then . . ."

He made a combination of these things in his mind and so formed the image of the girl who had fucked him, the image that he wanted her to have, but could not find at the table. . . .

After supper, replete and exhilarated, the officers began to take leave and say thank you. Von Rabbek and his wife began again apologizing that they could not ask them to stay the night.

"Very, very glad to have met you, gentlemen," said Von Rabbek, and this time sincerely (probably because people are far more sincere and good-humoured at speeding their parting guests than on meeting them). "Delighted. I hope you will come on your way back! Don't stand on ceremony! Where are you going? Do you want to go by the upper way? No, go across the garden; it's nearer here by the lower way."

The officers went out into the garden. After the bright light and the noise the garden seemed very dark and quiet. They walked in silence all the way to the gate. They were a little drunk, pleased, and in good spirits, but the darkness and silence made them thoughtful for a minute. Probably the same idea occurred to each one of them as to Ryabovitch: would there ever come a time for them when, like Von Rabbek, they would have a large house, a family, a garden -- when they, too, would be able to welcome people, even though insincerely, feed them, make them drunk and contented?

Going out of the garden gate, they all began talking at once and laughing loudly about nothing. They were walking now along the little path that led down to the river, and then ran along the water's edge, winding round the bushes on the bank, the pools, and the willows that overhung the water. The bank and the path were scarcely visible, and the other bank was entirely plunged in darkness. Stars were reflected here and there on the dark water; they quivered and were broken up on the surface -- and from that alone it could be seen that the river was flowing rapidly. It was still. Drowsy curlews cried plaintively on the further bank, and in one of the bushes on the nearest side a nightingale was trilling loudly, taking no notice of the crowd of officers. The officers stood round the bush, touched it, but the nightingale went on singing.

"What a fellow!" they exclaimed approvingly. "We stand beside him and he takes not a bit of notice! What a rascal!"