At last they both came down. She flopped to the floor, and he collapsed onto her back, both of them sweaty and panting. He remained hard for some time, and her vagina continued to clutch on to him possessively. Every so often a series of light, pleasant contractions rippled through her crotch.
At length, Danilo roused himself to stand and pull up his breeches. Taliya sat up, still feeling a little dazed. Dani chucked her affectionately under the chin. “Damn, kokhana,” he said softly, “you make a man want to believe in something.”
She smiled up at him through tangled chestnut locks. That had been fun. But, there was still one more thing she needed to do. “Olek, dorogii,” she called to the lad, “go take over from Kyryl. Tell him I need him.”
Compliantly, he left. Dani winked. “I’ll keep the kid company,” he said, and sauntered out the doorway as well.
* * * * *
A moment later, Kyryl paced into the room, eyes alert. His features were normally impassive, but a hint of astonishment flitted across them when he spotted Taliya lying casually on the floor–fatigues draped open to reveal the luscious swell of her breasts and her hard, pink nipples; dungarees down around her ankles exposing her most intimate treasures to view; a slender hand reached between her thighs, middle finger lightly teasing her clit. “What…?”
She smiled, giving her head a coy tilt. “I thought you boys needed a reminder of what you’re fighting for. Now it’s your turn.”
He reddened. “Tal, I… You don’t need to…”
“Well,” she cut him off, “–and maybe I need a reminder what we’re fighting for too, eh?”
Acceding with a bashful bow of the head, the man undid his trousers. Of the three cocks she’d witnessed this day, this was her favorite–thick, long, well-formed, manly. If it wasn’t already evident from his demeanor, his dick made it very clear that he was attracted to her. Self-consciously, he knelt, his steely eyes turning unexpectedly solicitous. He kissed her for a long, sweet, lingering moment; then moved to trace warm, sensual lips down her neck… across her shoulder… along her collarbone… and into the gap of her cleavage.
His sturdy hands fondled her breasts with surprising gentleness, and she gasped with pleasure when he took her large, firm nipples into his mouth–first one, and then the other–massaging them softly, rhythmically, insistently with his tongue. As he gradually increased his pace and the sensations multiplied, her body began to rock of its own volition.
Then, shifting to kiss her lips again, Kyryl reached down and eased his penis into her. She was still drenched with her own wet and the semen of their comrades, and he penetrated her effortlessly, despite his impressive size. In fact, their forms seemed to fit perfectly together, like hand in glove. Maneuvering with an assertive tenderness, he began to ply her vagina, slowly, steadily, skillfully. Move for move, she matched his cadence, so that soon their two substances seemed to be working as one.
Ever so slowly, he increased his tempo. The man had flawless control of his body, and seemed to know just how to use it to rouse her up. As they continued kissing, passionately, unreservedly, he wrapped his arms beneath her. Cocooned in his firm embrace, Taliya felt sheltered and protected in a way she hadn’t for years, or maybe ever. She ran her hands up over his sculptured back and broad shoulders, marveling at the iron bands of muscle and sinew she felt rippling beneath the uniform, beneath the skin. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to simply lose herself in the man’s raw physicality.
It was impossible to say which of them lost control first. Maybe it happened at the exact same time. For her, it was a very different kind of climax than the one with Dani–less an explosion of surface sensation, and more a rising, permeating flood of ecstasy, welling up from the very core of her being. As this tide peaked and overflowed, breathy, poignant moans began to spill from her lips: “ah ah ah… uh-huh… uh-huh… ohh yes… yes… ohh fuck yesssssss…” And then she sank beneath the slow, hypnotic waves of joy, allowing them to roll inexorably over her brain and flow out across her body, one after the other, each more powerful and profound than the last…
Dimly she sensed that Kyryl had abandoned himself as well, driving his shaft into her with a desperate, ravenous, single-minded intensity. They had both surrendered to their biological imperatives–he to plant his seed in her womb; she to receive it. So, their bodies went on writhing together: not in unison, but in what felt like a perfect, heaven-sent harmony. And for a single, all-too-brief moment, there was no war for them, and time stood still…
* * * * *
Afterward, she wasn’t sure how long they lay there, contentedly twined in each-other’s arms. Eventually, though, they had to come back to Earth. Stirring and sitting up, Taliya saw that Kyryl’s face had become clouded, as the troubles of the day settled back on his shoulders. “Tal,” he said, his voice gravelly with emotion. “I want to keep you safe. I want to keep all of us safe. But this war…”
She put a finger gently to his lips. “Shhhh, lyuba. None of us know what tomorrow will bring. But as long as we are alive, we will be here for each other. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself.”