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  • Escape though the Desert Pt. 03

Escape though the Desert Pt. 03

After the country had fallen to chaos due to a revolution to topple the dictator, the Russian oil field security staff had such a good plan to drive all the way to the south and then just hop on a commercial flight at the first possible chance. They had taken Theresa, the German young woman working on an archaeological dig, with them and were keeping her safe. They seemed to be all ex military and their leader, Vassili a battle hardened man in his late forties, and Theresa 20 years his junior felt strongly attracted to each other.


But all good plans can fail. The group was stranded in a cue at the border. It seemed that the country had closed all its borders so none of the elite of the country to its north would have a chance to escape prosecution or could hide valuables. The dictators and his sons were hunted over half the continent. So there was no way Vassili and his group could reach the big international airport in the south or even leave this remote country as only diplomatic personnel was allowed to leave. And now they were running out of funds and also there was a threat that the revolutionary unrest would reach this part of the world as well. Sorrow showed on Vassili's face.

"Ok, I think we should just go to our Russian embassy here and see if they can get us out on a diplomatic passport," said Vassili and their small convoy turned round to drive to the capital.

The embassy was a small concrete building with a guarded gate. It took some time before they were admitted at all. A bored employee only half listened to Vassili's request for assistance. Oil workers seemed not important to him it seemed. No they just had to wait Dimitri translated to Theresa.

Suddenly Vassili barked some order and the guy snapped to attention and ran to the back returning with what seemed a higher ranked person. This guy saluted Vassili sharply and the heated discussion continued.

"Why are those two guys saluting Vassili?" Theresa whispered to Dimitri. She saw them looking towards her. The senior guy looking at her with a smirk. "What is going on Dimitri?" she whispered again.

Dimitri smiled and said: "Because Vassili is colonel Vassili Orlov. Regular fucking James Bond."

"Njet" she heard Vassili growl.

"What? What are they now saying about me?"

"He says you come too. He likes fucking you. He does not want you to be abandoned here."

"Come where? What? I do not understand."

"Russia. Military plane maybe."

Theresa felt suddenly very cold. What was this? She seemed to be in deep shit.

Vassili was still barking orders with the embassy staff shifting nervously. Then all of a sudden they were escorted to elevators. The man from the embassy went in first with Vassili and Theresa and the rest of the group with their equipment in the next one.

Vassili and Theresa were escorted to a bedroom with en suite bathroom and shower. The moment the door closed behind the Russian guy Theresa wanted to ask Vassili what was going on but before she knew what was happening to her he pushed her dress up, ripped her underwear off and lifted her up against the wall, shoving his cock deep inside her.

Theresa cried out as her channel was tight with fear and dry. She gasped and shuddered on his cock as her walls felt the friction of his invasion. He pressed his lips on hers and started fucking her. She was shocked and more or less surrendered to the sudden assault. Then his lips moved to her ear and he whispered "Shhh, hush ... camera..mics...fuck." and it dawned on her that this raw sex was for the benefit of the people who listened in. She clung to his shoulders and bounced against the wall until she felt him erupt in her.

"I never get tired of fucking you. Next one will be in the shower," he growled and pressed her towards the bathroom door. Vassili put the shower on and moved in on her again wrapping her against his chest his face buried in her hair.

"Listen Poppet! Those guys and my superiors are dangerous. They must think you are just an easy fuck I picked up leaving the country. Pretend we never met resistance on the road and you believe I worked oilfields. I am trying to get us out and will put you on a plane home. Alone here is too dangerous for you. Do not say a word."

"I am sorry little one. It was the only way I could shut you up that they would not believe to be a ploy."

He kissed her on her head and she cried in his arms. The noise of the water drowning their conversation and her hair blocking their conversation from view.

"We will give them the show of their lives," he murmured and turned her around and bent her at her waist entering her from behind. But his movements were caring and the words he whispered were those of a lover. The water and the earlier sex had made her wet and open and her body started to respond to his movements inside her, his hands stroking her body and his words like honey.

"Vassili please take me on the bed," she asked him and he pulled out and carried her to the bed and put her down with her back on the blankets.

She opened her legs and he entered her again. A deep moan escaped her when he pinched her hard nipple. She crossed her legs below his buttocks and grabbed his shoulders, his thrusts rocking her. She looked into his fierce blue eyes and saw want and something warm. Her moans became frequent and her hips bucked against his, arching her back in rigid poses, dominated by his fingers on her clit and his dick pressing from below. He felt her wetness increase, her belly under her bellybutton shaking in tremors and her vaginal muscles clenching around him. When his seed splashed inside her she shuddered and climaxed as well.

In the evening the team was put on a plane to Vienna, together with some other diplomats and NGO-workers. Vassili patted her leg when they were airborne. "We made it people," and grinned to her and to the others sitting in the row in front of them.

"How did you get me on this flight?" she asked. "You did show them not my own passport."

He lifted her head towards him and said:"No Theresa Orlova but as my wife you are allowed to follow your husband who was doing aidwork in Africa," and kissed her.

"What? How?"

"Remember you signed a document at the embassy? Did they not tell you always to read papers." He was now really enjoying the prank. Then turning serious said "It was the only way I could get you out poppet. You can divorce me anytime you want."

She sat silent for a long time and then grabbed the big fist on the armrest in between their bodies. "Thank you for protecting me. Dimitri told me."

"I will take you to my house on the Black Sea shore. Do not let anyone know how much you know or what really happened. In a week or so I will put you on a plane home saying you are homesick and I am getting tired of hearing you complain about it."

His house turned out to be a nice datcha on the seashore. Inside it was cosy with a lot of polished wood and large windows overlooking a garden. She admired his large library somehow feeling oddly out of place in the house of a soldier. He explained he held a PhD in crusader history.

They spent their days walking the beach and having picknicks and their evenings making love in front of the huge fireplace. They did not talk about Theresa going home.

After a week he went to work again at the local armybase. One day when she was home alone, sipping tea and reading a book in English about Richard Lionhearth someone knocked on the door. A bit of a mousy man stood there asking for Vassili and then telling them he was a co worker and if they could have a chat too. He flashed some ID and she was on alert.

"Are you also in oil fields protection or are you a colleague of his current work him being back in the army?"

The man had a talk as if he was visiting his aunt but was trying to find out her story about how she met Vassili. She stuck to the version they had agreed on and dropped the hint she felt quite alone in a foreign country and that her work at the school would start again in a few weeks. After two cups of tea he left telling her he hoped to see her again at the BBQ planned at the base in two weeks.

It seemed he had bought her story but when she told Vassili during another walk at the beach – you never knew if the house was bugged – he said it was time for her to become real homesick. So inside she had a big cry about how alone she felt and how much she loved to see her friends. And him grumbling.

A few days later he put her on a flight to Berlin. "Stay safe poppet and wait for me. One day I will show up on your doorstep!"

Back home she did not hear from him again. But she also did not file for a divorce. She went back to teach at school.

Four years later Theresa was cooking dinner for herself and her son when the doorbell rang. She opened her door thinking it was a neighbour as it was the bell of the innerdoor of the apartment and not the front door. When she opened the door the first thing she saw were smiling iceblue eyes under a mop of grey hair. "Hello Poppet."

Alexander Orlov peeped from behind his mother's legs watching the stranger on their doorstep. Both the boy and the man having the same striking eyes. Vassili focussed on the toddler and kneeled down, his hand reaching towards the kid.

"Vassili," she gasped. "You came!"

"Yes," he said looking up to her from kneeling at her feet. Turning 50 I was retired out of active service and I landed myself a job as a researcher at the university of Pamplona to write a book about the crusader castles. Now all is safe to be together at last, I came to ask you to come and live with me in my home in a small French village. It is overlooking the Mediterranean and the local fishing port and in the backgarden fruittrees grown and the local baker is in the same street and bakes very good pain au chocolat chocolate bread. What do you say?"

She looked down at the spy who came in from the cold and turned himself into Indiana Jones and grabbed his coat to tug him towards her. He wrapped his arms around her.

Thirty years later the old Russian professor who was renowned for his works on the crusaders and his wife the director of the local museum stood in the old French church watching their grandchild being baptised. His wife smiled towards her old husband. He pressed her hands towards his lips and whispered "Poppet."

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