Chapter 2

"By the end of September," the old man continued, "we knew that Admiral Makarov was dead, the Novik sunk off Sakhalin, the Tsessarevich interned in Tsingtao, Rurik and rest of the Vladivostok squadron beaten, the Diana gone to Saigon for refuge. We knew all these disasters were happening in the Far East but still we swung at anchor at Libau. Some of the crews grew unruly. Agitators, revolutionaries, they were going about their work. I tell you, Ensign," Gorshin pointed his finger, "even after all that happened later, you cannot sabotage the morale of men who are about to risk their lives. You cannot do it, even if you dispute the cause, a man must be able to trust his comrades."

"Yes sir," Koscuisko answered, doubtfully.

"But I found my Katka in that horrid Latvian port and, I have to say, she was all I could think about until the time we sailed, and after."

It was Sunday the 25th of September, 1904. Sub-Lieutenant Yvgeny Ivanovich Gorshin, Third Officer of the Destroyer Grozny, rose out of bed in his lodgings in Libau, dressed, and descended the stairs to breakfast. He had slept little, his mind was so full of thoughts and anticipations.

His landlady was a kind woman, as round as she was tall, and well-used to hosting ship's Officers. She told him she ran a 'respectable' establishment, fed him well with a hearty breakfast every morning, and fussed over his laundry.

When he told her he was expecting a 'visitor' later on that morning, she asked few questions. She was, she said, attending Basilica all day and trusted that Yvgeny would respect the Lord's day.

"You sailors," she said in passing, "who could deny you a little comfort before battle? If I was a few years younger," she winked, "I wouldn't mind accompanying such a handsome Officer myself." The Lady was not above a little flirting.

At 8.30 she donned her black shawl and left for church. Yvgeny sat alone in the spacious kitchen of the house. He was on tenterhooks. He took a block of tobacco from his pouch and began to pare some into the palm of his hand. Rubbing the dark leaf into a plug he stoked his meerschaum calabash and tamped it with his thumb. He lit the pungent Yenidjie tobacco with a taper from the stove and puffed clouds of smoke so it hung like a pall around him. He sat by the window so he had a good view of the street, and waited.

The narrow street was almost deserted outside. Occasionally a door would bang as a little group left for church. Yvgeny held his breath as each lone figure hove into view. At ten he poured another cup of black coffee. It was tepid and bitter to the taste but he drank it anyway.

A little after 10.15 he saw a girl moving furtively up the street. She wore a long black shawl clutched across her face like a Moslem 'devotchka.' She stopped outside the house and looked up and down the street before tentatively walking across. She had barely knocked before Yvgeny swung the door open for her. She ducked in hurriedly then went to the window to double- check.

Yvgeny moved behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Were you seen?" he asked.

She shook her head, placing her hand on top of his.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Just a little nervous."

"Afraid of being found out?" he asked.

"No," she said in a quiet voice.

"Then what?"

She shrugged and turned away from the window. Yvgeny watched her fluid movement, the way her body undulated under her long dress. She dropped her shawl, shook out her thick, straight, fair hair. For a moment he watched her every movement as she inspected the kitchen.

"You wish to see my room?" he suggested.

She looked at him and swallowed, eyes betraying conflict and uncertainty. A little nod of the head signified consent. He crossed the room to her and took her lightly by the hand.

"This way," he told her softly before leading her to the stairs.

The narrow single bed had been made. His landlady had a habit of doing that so he barely noticed her absence. She'd also quickly tidied up, although Yvgeny was economical in his personal habits anyway. It's the first thing a young Naval Cadet learns, to keep his quarters tidy.

"It's small," she said.

"A palace compared to the Grozny," he replied, "on board ship I have enough room for a bunk and tiny table and that's it. The enlisted men have even less. They hot bunk and..."

"Hot bunk?"

"Share... different watches of course," he added, "not at the same time."

"And you don't share your bunk?" she asked with a hint of a grin.

"Sometimes," he told her, smiling in reply, "when we're standing watches on and off."

"And a watch is?"

"A period of duty on a warship. 4 hours on and 4 off when we're on alert."

"Goodness, how can you sleep?"

"You train yourself. Ships are very noisy, you get used to it, the thumping of the engines, whine of machinery and people moving about all the time making noise..."

She stood by his single window. It looked out over the backyards to the port and the black hulls and canary-yellow funnels of the Russian ships.

"Which one is yours?" she asked quietly.

He moved close behind her pointing out the window.

"You can't see it. Down behind those wharf buildings. Just past there you can see the stern of the Bravy, see? The Grozny is moored alongside."

"Oh!"

He brushed his cheek in her hair. She hummed approval so he circled her with his arms. Leaning back, she pressed her sweet body against his.

"A little wine?" he suggested, moving towards the little bedside cabinet.

"It's a bit early in the day," she replied, "but... why not!"

Yvgeny retrieved a bottle of Alazani from the cabinet together with two glasses. He held the glasses up towards the window to check they were clean before tipping a little of the red wine in each. Crossing back to her, he offered her a glass which she accepted with a little smile.

"Would you care to sit?" he asked.

He took her by the hand and guided her to the bed. She sat on the covers, looking down at the floor. Yvgeny sat beside her, lifted his glass, and offered a toast to a pleasant day.

Katka remained looking at the carpet, idly swinging her foot. Yvgeny was stuck for words. Instead he took a sip of wine, swirling it around his mouth before swallowing.

"Yvgeny?" she said, quietly, "can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Why did you ask me here?" Her voice trembled a little.

"I..." Yvgeny's voice was thick, his tongue seemed twice its size in his mouth. "I, guess I wanted to spend some time... with you alone," he continued, his voice slow and deliberate.

"For what?" she asked.

He shrugged and looked away. She turned to face him putting her hand on his shoulder. He covered it with his and drew it down pulling her towards him. Bending, he kissed her on the lips.

She closed her eyes as if to still her nerves. Katka, though, was still aware of the scent of his cologne, the feel of his cheek on hers, prickly with a low stubble. She breathed deep to calm the butterflies. Instinctively, her arms circled his shoulders for support.

Yvgeny kissed her again, longer and more intense. Katka felt herself falling backwards, but secure in his arms. His mouth left her. She tried to speak but changed her mind. Instead she put her arm around his neck as he rolled into place beside her.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered into her ear, before kissing and nuzzling her neck. She relaxed a little, enjoying the contact, the sweet words and the affection.

Katka Talsii's upbringing had been relatively free and easy. She enjoyed the farm, animals, and the wide-open spaces. Latvia is flat, a country of rich pasture, although harsh in Winter. Katka had the run of it, that is until she reached puberty. Suddenly, she required a chaperone, was restricted in where she could go and who she could see.

She knew, of course, all about sex. It's impossible not to, living on a farm. Katka also noticed the boys, and they her. However, as soon as she displayed an interest in any one of them, her Mother, Father or Grandmother would forbid her to leave the house until the 'danger' had passed.

Katka learned that her Mother had married her Father at 14 and that her older Brother had appeared in a remarkably short time after the wedding. She was to learn that wasn't an uncommon occurrence in the community. Clearly her family desired a properly arranged match for her and were taking pains to ensure she was to be married a virgin. Katka, however, never adjusted well to the imposition of restrictions on her liberty. She learned to be sneaky. In fact, she discovered a taste for it.

Until now, however, she felt that she'd been merely playing some childish games. A rebellion, perhaps, against parental rules. This Naval Officer was an altogether different intrigue. His intensity both frightened and attracted her. She had the feeling of slowly being swallowed up.

Until that Sunday she had never kissed anyone as long and as deeply as Yvgeny Gorshin. Katka shivered in excitement and arousal. She felt a wave of euphoria course through her body.

She cupped his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair. Yvgeny kissed her again, open-mouthed. He stroked his palm over her back and caressed her side, his thumb tantalisingly close to the swell of her breast.

Katka found herself on her back with Yvgeny leaning over her, kissing and stroking. He pressed his lips down below her neck, his hand moved up from her tummy. Katka held her breath in anticipation. Looking up enquiringly, he smiled when she gave a slight nod. His hand and lips moved to the tip of her left breast over the fabric of her white blouse.

"Do you wish to get more comfortable?" he murmured.

She was confused at first as to what he meant. He sat up and began pulling on the buttons of his shirt. With a flash she realised what he intended.

Doubts once again began to cloud her mind. She eased herself upright and watched Yvgeny remove his shirt. He was well- muscled, his torso displaying the benefit of youth and healthy exercise.

"Katka?" he asked softly. His expression showed concern and something else, excitement, lust perhaps? "Katka, dear Katka?" he said, "come."

He took her hand and helped her from the bed. Taking her in his arms again, his lips once again, fell on hers. Yvgeny's fingertips explored the buttons of Katka's blouse running up her back. Slowly, he began to undo them from the top, one by one. She put her head against his chest, her arms around him, and listened to his heavy breathing and the beat of his heart.

Her blouse fell open and bunched around her. Yvgeny's hands found the flesh of the small of her back, just below the line of her wide corset. He hummed and nuzzled her neck, rubbing his face in her hair.

"Come," he whispered, "I want to see you."

He moved her away and she allowed him to pull her blouse from her. She felt embarrassed as he looked down at her body, drinking in the sight of her breasts encased in her iron-clad corset. He kissed her bare shoulders, which made her gasp, as his hands traced the outline of her chest. His lips travelled down to her cleavage and he kissed her in the little valley. Of themselves, her hands circled his head and held him fast to her.

Although the room was cool, Katka felt hot. She stumbled with dizziness as Yvgeny turned her around and began to work on the fastenings of her corset. She wanted to lie down but he held her with one arm around her chest. With a sigh he released her corset and she felt his cool hands cover her breasts.

"Let me sit," she told him. Yvgeny released her and she flopped back down onto the bed. Rolling on to her back, she instinctively folded her arms over her breasts, protectively.

"What's the matter," he asked, concerned.

She shrugged her shoulders and looked away, unable to answer. Yvgeny sat next to her, draped an arm over her shoulders and rubbed his cheek in her hair. He told her how beautiful she was, from the texture of her skin, her oval face and her dark, dark eyes. She accepted his kiss once more, lingering and intense.

Fingertips explored her tummy, dwelt in her navel, then began to inch higher. His knuckles brushed her breast flesh bulging from underneath her arm. It tickled, she twitched, he got bolder and eased his fingers under her arm. Katka grinned shyly but allowed him to continue. Eventually she moved her arm, permitting him to palm her little cone.

Shortly, his lips followed and soon he was happily sucking on her stiffening nipple. She felt herself melt under his searing assault.

Growling, Yvgeny became more urgent and insistent. He pushed his hand down between her legs. Baulked by the heavy material of her long, woollen dress, he began to inch it up her legs.

Hesitantly, her knees fell open. She sensed his fingers caressing the inside of her thighs. Gradually Katka's desire began to match his. Rolling impatiently on her side, she urged him to undo the buttons at the back of her, now uncomfortable, skirt. Momentarily he left her to take off his trousers. Katka used the time to dispense with her own garment.

She watched him in his underwear, his erection trapped and bulging beneath the fabric. The gleam of perspiration trickled down his flat chest, which heaved in anticipation. She felt drawn by his lust, like looking into a blazing fire.

He was on her, between her legs and grinding that delicious bulge into her very centre. Her body was a blur of sensation as he kissed, caressed and nibbled her face, neck and aching breasts. At that moment she wanted nothing but to be possessed by him, and he, her.

Her pants, Yvgeny pulled roughly from her. His fingers opened her like a flower. She was ready when he presented his hard cock at her entrance. Her knees she spread and held aloft as he slowly pushed past her resistance. His hands held her around the bottom as he undulated against her.