by Tia Siren
“Octavia,” he said as she quickly gathered the tear she thought he hadn't seen, “I really like you. You know that, don't you? I don't just want to be friends with you. I want more.”
She looked at him and ran her palm over his cheek. “And I like you very much too, and I have no intention of just being friends. You are far too handsome for that.”
Slava put his hand on hers and pulled back the lever she was holding until it would go no farther. The boat slowed, and eventually the engines cut. All they could hear was the water lapping under the boat and the odd seagull. “What did you do that for? We're just drifting now,” she said.
“Then let's do something about it. Pull that lever there,” he said, pointing to a long lever against the wall, to the side of the captain's chair. Octavia leaned across and pulled it. There was a loud sound at the bow and stern of the boat, and Octavia realized she had just lowered the anchor. “There. We won't move far now. We're about three miles off the coast and perfectly placed to pull into to Gladesville harbor for the night.”
“Why have we stopped?” she asked.
Slava didn't speak. He leaned toward her and kissed her. When Octavia stood up, he pulled her to him and kissed her passionately. She put her hands around his neck and held on to him. “Oh, I've wanted you to do that since the moment I saw you,” she said when their kiss ended.
“Me too. I have just kissed the daughter of the president of the United States, and she tastes wonderful!” he said, throwing his arms up in the air like a soccer player who had just shot the winning goal in the World Cup. “Come with me,” he added. He took her hand and led her down some steps to the lounge. It had a gold ceiling and a floor made of beautifully polished wood. There were gold-colored sofas down both sides and high windows, through which was a superb view of the ocean. Slava went down another flight of stairs and through a narrow door. It was the master bedroom, and even Octavia, a woman accustomed to luxurious surroundings, gasped.
The bed stood in the middle of the room, and it was round. Above the bed was a glass roof that looked up to the sky. The room was mostly blue. It had blue carpet, blue pillows, and a blue counterpane. On the walls were murals of dolphins and whales, punctuated by small portholes.
Slava pushed Octavia onto the bed, and as she lay down, he straddled her midriff. When she looked up at him, she saw a look of extreme concentration as he brought his hands to the buttons on her blouse. Once he'd opened two buttons, he leaned down to her and whispered. “I've been watching you. No. In fact, I'd call it stalking you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I have countless magazines at home. Not because I like the magazines, but because they contain pictures of you.”
“Why on earth would you do that?”
“Two reasons. First, I think you are the most gorgeous woman alive, and I can't get enough of looking at you,” he said. He returned to unbuttoning her blouse.
“You forgot the second point,” she reminded him.
“Despite all the material on the internet that a man could use to satisfy his urges, I am proud to say that I had no use for the internet whatsoever.”
“Do you mean you used my photos to masturbate?” Octavia said, not quite knowing what to think.
“Plainly put, but correct,” he said.
“I'm not sure if I should be flattered or shocked.”
“Dear Octavia, I am certain it is only modesty that prevents you from thinking about images of yourself, but I can tell you that in the world, there will be thousands of men who look at your picture every day while pleasuring themselves.”
A strange image flashed across her mind. “But you are the only one who will ever have me in real life.” She reached up and pulled him down to kiss her. Her tongue tasted sweet as it found his. Her lips were soft. As they kissed, Octavia ran her hands up and down his back, feeling how strong his muscles were. He pulled away and put his hands on her blouse again. He popped the remaining buttons open and watched as her blouse fell away. He'd been right in his appraisal of her photos: She did have a large bust. He put his hands on her bra and felt how full her breasts were, how her erect nipples stuck into the material. He sat on her and looked down as he undid his shirt. When it landed on the floor, Octavia sat up and was on him with her mouth. She kissed each nipple gently as she smelled his intoxicating scent. Her hands rubbed over his solid chest and down over his six pack. When she reached the bottom of his stomach, she pushed her hand inside his pants and felt for him. She found his warm shaft and felt how hard it was. “That must be painful, all squashed up like that,” she said as her hands reached for his belt. She undid it so expertly that Slava wondered how many times she had done it before. In no time, his zipper was open and her hand was on him again. She pushed his shorts down a little and pulled his penis out. As she looked down, she could see a tiny drop of pre-cum glistening back at her. She caught it on her index finger, looked him in the eyes as she opened her mouth, and tasted it.
It was a gesture that drove him wild. Before he pushed her back down, onto her back, he unfastened her bra and took if off. When she lay back, his tongue found a nipple and licked it. Her nipples were hard and sticking out in a most seductive way. Slava liked women with big nipples and big breasts, and he had been rewarded. He rocked back and looked down at the two mounds that seemed to be inviting him to play with them. He put a hand on each and rubbed his thumbs over the hard buds at their centers. Octavia groaned as his caresses shot wave after wave down to her damp center.
He stayed where he was and began to unfasten her shorts. When he was ready to open the zipper, he lay to one side of her and slowly pulled it open. He put his hand inside and discovered she wasn't wearing panties. His hand went straight to her pubic hair. He pushed a little farther, letting his hand slide over her moist lips. His fingers played in the folds of her vulva, and he leaned over and kissed her again. She kissed him like he'd never been kissed before. Her tongue darted in and out of his mouth and found every crevice. As he fingered her, he heard her breathing shift up a gear. She was finding it increasingly difficult to bear his insistent fingers without crying out. He stopped and pulled his hand from her. She almost came when he licked her juices from his hand and smiled at her.
Now he wanted to taste her for real. He got up and tugged her shorts down over her ankles, letting them drop to the floor. Still standing, he put his hands on her knees and pushed her legs open. When he saw her womanhood, his cock jerked in anticipation. When he lowered himself between her legs, the first thing he noticed was the beautiful aroma of her excitement. The second thing he noticed was just how excited she was. Her lips were wet and open for him. When his tongue landed on her most sensitive spot, Octavia screamed out and pulled his hair. He planted his mouth on her and let his tongue go to work as he reached up and squeezed a breast. She took hold of his hand and pushed it into her soft flesh.
A moment later, it was too much for her, and she cried his name as her back lifted from the bed and her groin thrust into his mouth. Slava licked hungrily at her fountain as she trembled, helpless and wanton.
“Come up here,” she said when her orgasm had subsided. She pulled him to her and urged him to lie on top of her and kiss her. His penis was sticking out of this pants and pushing into her belly. It was uncomfortable, and Slava quickly stood up and rid himself of his pants and shorts. Octavia let out a playful whistle when she saw him exposed for the first time. His thighs were strong and hairy, and she marveled at the size of what stood between them. Not just his penis, which was long and thick, but his balls, which looked swollen and tight up against his body.
Again he lay between her legs, and again he put his mouth on her. She tried to pull him up because she wanted him to fill her, but he wanted one more taste of her. When he felt her second orgasm coming, he slid up her and entered her. Her scream hurt his ears. She flung her legs around him and clasped her hands to his hard buttocks. He rode her hard with long, powerful strokes as her second orgasm flowed sea
mlessly into her third. He grunted as he devoured her, splitting her open and making her come time and again. Her dark hair fanned out on the pillow beneath her, framing her face, which was glowing. He kept up his rhythm and leaned down and kissed her hard. She pushed her pelvis up and forward, wanting him to release his seed into her. He grabbed her hands and shoved them up above her as he lay fully on her. She gasped under the weight of him and screamed as his thrusts began to hit her clitoris. He closed his eyes and let his other senses take over. When he felt her begin to tighten again, he pulled himself up and opened his eyes. As he saw her beautiful face, his balls swelled and he cried out, pumping his thick semen into her. When every drop was spent, he slumped onto her, crushing the breath from her. She put her hand to his sweaty hair and stroked it.
After an age, it was Octavia who spoke first. “My God, if we have sex like that every time, I won't ever bother getting out of bed.”
“Just wait till I'm old and gray and can't get it up. You won't want to stay in bed all the time then.”
“I don't care. I will be old as well. We'll have to make do with cuddling each other to orgasm.”
Her hair was wet, and a few strands clung to the sweat on her forehead. He brushed them away and kissed her there. “I don't know about you, but I need to sleep a bit.” Octavia held him as he drifted off. She followed soon after.
They woke two hours later, still clinging to each other. Slava got up and turned on the shower. “Wanna join me?” he asked. She did, and when Octavia turned away from him, wanting him to soap her back, he couldn't resist bending her forward and thrusting himself into her once more.
The next day they lifted the anchor and sailed into the marina at Gladesville. As they got off the boat, Slava put his arm around her. There was a click as a camera went off.
“That'll be all over the tabloids by tomorrow,” Octavia said. “I tell you, it never stops.” They walked into a bar that served breakfast. It was dark inside and free of prying eyes. The exertions of the previous evening had left them in dire need of food, and they both ordered a breakfast.
“Tell me about your family, Slava,” she said.
“Are you sure you want to know?”
“Yes. Your father, what's he really like?”
“He's a bastard.”
Octavia looked shocked. “Do you mean he was born out of wedlock, or do you mean he is not a nice person?”
“Both. My father has no idea who his father is, and his mother was a prostitute in St. Petersburg. He was put into an orphanage and eventually rose to be where he is today. I don't know how many bones he's broken on the way up, but make no mistake, he is the most brutal of men.”
“Are you scared of him?” Octavia asked sympathetically.
“Yes, a little. He is quite capable of killing his own son if the mood takes him.”
“Surely you don't mean that? Slava, that can't be true.”
“Well, I wouldn't bet against it. He always gets what he wants, and nobody stands in his way.”
“And how does your mother put up with this kind of man?”
“She always says yes to him. He's beaten her black and blue too many times for daring to defy him.”
“That's awful. For you both. Have you ever seen him hitting her?”
“Yes.”
*****
Octavia looked at the doctor's face. When he nodded to her, she burst into tears. She’d been waiting for the test results in a small room in Washington's most expensive private hospital. A nurse came and offered her a handkerchief. She took it gratefully and blew her nose.
“Miss Whalberg, your car has arrived,” said the hospital manager. He'd been assigned the job of looking after the president's daughter during her short stay.
Octavia didn't want to see her parents, so she had the driver drop her off at Harvard, where she went into her room, closed the door, and curled up on the bed. When her sobs stopped, she fell asleep. When she woke, she turned on Skype.
“Hello, sweetie,” Slava said. “Do you know what time it is here? It's—”
“Slava, I've got some very bad news,” she said, silencing him. “I don't know how to tell you this, but I'm pregnant.”
Slava wasn't quite sure he'd heard correctly. “You're what?”
“Pregnant,” she sobbed.
“That's great. No, it's more than great. It's the best thing ever.”
Octavia was surprised. She'd thought he would be angry and afraid of what it might do to his future. “Are you sure you're okay with it?”
“Okay? That's a useless word to use under these circumstances. If I weren't thousands of miles away, I'd crack open a bottle of champagne. Oh, Octavia, this is fantastic news.”
“I'm amazed you are so happy. I thought you would be angry and worried about the future.”
“Why? There is nothing I want more than to have you as the mother of my children. You will be a perfect mother. Just one thing, though. We should keep it secret from my father.”
“Okay, but what are we going to do? I'm the president's daughter; I can't be pregnant and unmarried. It simply isn't an option.”
“Sod it. You're not happy at Harvard, and I'm not happy in Moscow without you. I have dreamed about doing this with you. Let's take my boat and sail away. I have more money than we'll ever be able to use in our lives and a great place to live: my yacht. You can write books while I sail us around. I can design yachts and sell the designs via the web. What do you say?”
Slava looked at his computer screen as Octavia fell silent. After two minutes, she responded. “There will be hell to pay. If I elope with you, my father will be crucified by the press, and he will suffer in the opinion polls. He will send the FBI and lord only knows who else to find me.”
“Octavia, you are a grown woman living in a free world. Nobody can drag you back to the US against your will. We won't be committing a crime. It's not eighteen hundred.”
*****
“Yes, what is it?” the ambassador barked as a small fat man entered his office. The ambassador's office was not as large as he believed his position deserved. His desk was covered in photos of him in various posts he'd been sent to over the years, and there was a Russian flag standing on a pole to the right of his desk.
“Ambassador, it's your son. I have just received notice from the State Security Service that he was seen leaving St. Petersburg in his boat two days ago.”
“Where was he going?”
“Nobody knows.”
“And I suppose the buffoons don't know where he is now, either?”
“That is correct, sir. There is one more piece of information. He was with a woman.”
“What woman? He doesn't have a girlfriend as far as I know. He's too busy trying to finish his studies.”
“The girl's name is Octavia Wahlberg.”
“What? That black girl that calls herself the president's daughter?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Get me General Toporov, now.”
The man nodded and left the office. Five minutes later the ambassador's phone rang. It was General Vladimir Toporov, head of the Russian State Security Service.
“You wanted to speak to me, Ambassador?”
“Yes, General. I want you to find my son and bring him back to finish his studies, and then I want you to deal with the woman he has seemingly gone off with. Eliminate her if you have to. Do you understand? There is no way my son will marry an American, let alone a black American. I don't want her having his children. She behaves like a prostitute. I hate prostitutes; they are dirty. “
“Ambassador, the woman to whom you refer is the president's daughter. We can't do anything about her and your son being together. It's a free world, and they are both consenting adults.”
“Have you forgotten what happened in Moscow in 1991? If you have, then perhaps I should get it put in the newspapers so everybody can read what an unpleasant character you are. Don't you remember those poor girls? They were just innocent students having a
good time. Once you'd finished raping them, they couldn't walk anymore. Now, what do you say to my request?”
“I will do what I can,” the general said.
When his phone rang again, the ambassador swore. This time it was the president, Daniel Wahlberg.
“Ambassador, my daughter has given her security agent the slip and has been picked up by your son in a boat in Tallinn, Estonia. I will hold you personally responsible for anything that happens to her. I want you to contact your son and tell him to let her come home. She has her studies to think of.”
“Mr. President, I have no contact with my son. At the moment I have no idea where he is.” The ambassador sighed as if he were already bored with the news. “No doubt your daughter has led him astray. Much has been written about her, and not much of it good. She likes to—how shall I say it—put herself about a bit.”
“If you are suggesting my daughter had anything to do with this, you are sorely mistaken. Now get her back here or I will call your president and have you sent back to Moscow.”
“Mr. President, nobody threatens me, even the so-called most powerful man in the world. Be careful what you say. As I understand it, your daughter is in a very vulnerable situation at the moment.”
*****
Slava looked out of the bridge window as he maneuvered his boat out of the harbor in Tallinn. He looked at Octavia and knew he would love her forever. He would tell her when they reached London.
His boat was a sixty-five-foot luxury yacht called Serene. It had five bedrooms, three bathrooms, a sitting room, and a dining room. When servants were on board, they brought the food from the galley to the dining room in the elevator. The bridge where Slava and Octavia were sitting was full of all the latest gadgets.
“So tell me all about what happened,” he asked.
“It was quite surreal actually. I told my bodyguard I was going to spend the night with a friend. The security team has waited outside friends’ houses before while I've stayed the night, and this time was no exception.” Octavia took great pleasure in relating the story of her escape, and Slava could see it in her face. “All I did was go into my friend's house and then out via a bathroom window. I got a taxi to the airport and flew here.”