The day after the hurricane the waves were huge at Brighton Beach.  The Russian part of the population had defied the emergency evacuation order and now crossed the yellow police tape to have a look.

One person stepped out of the crowd, let his robe drop, and strode proudly naked to take the plunge.  Boris rode the breakers up and down, past the jetty, accompanied by roaring applause from the appreciative group remaining on shore.

Several hours later, Eve, who had witnessed the fantastic event went shopping at a small nearby Russian market.  On entering, she followed protocol and left her pocketbook at the front of the store while she shopped. Noting the presence of mistrust, Eve examined some roast chicken.  She began to separate a portion to buy.

Immediately, a burly man advanced into her space and got into her face. He spoke loudly in Russian with a demeaning tone. The other shoppers discreetly looked in her direction.

Before she could say fuck off, a booming voice came over Eve’s shoulder. 

“Shut the fuck up, mudak.”

Eve saw fear in the store manager's face as he backed away and said obsequiously, “Yes, Colonel.”

Eve turned around.  She recognized the stocky behemoth before her.  Their eyes met in mutual pleasure.

“You are the swimmer from this morning.  It was truly a magnificent performance.  You are definitely the hero of Brighton Beach today!”

“Yes! I am Boris. And you I recognize also. You are the famous Banya girl, an American legend.”

When Eve began to blush (for evidently, she reflected, word of a few misguided blowjobs gets around), Boris took her hand and gallantly kissed it.

He peered intently into her eyes.

“I teach you the winter swim if you like. We start now and you will still be swimming in January and all through the winter snow storms.  Meet me tomorrow morning, 6am on the beach, first jetty.”

He smiled and passed through the door.

The next day Eve strolled onto the beach. Boris did not seem surprised to see her. The jetty shielded them from the wind as he started talking.

“Banya girl, the water is the great equalizer. It humbles us all. Try not to concern yourself with how cold you think it might be, nor worry about how cold it could be after you get out. Stay in the present moment, dorogoy, eliminate everything else from your mind, and that way it won’t seem any colder than it really is. You just strip, go in, come out and run like hell until you feel warm again!"

Eve stripped with some hesitation. Slowly she revealed herself. Boris watched with complete admiration as pendulous breasts rolled out of her bra. Then Eve exposed her wide hips, bookends for the great bush of hair which covered her sexy under-mouth.

Boris’s stiff member quickly changed shape as he took the plunge. He swam frantically, like some crazed flapping bird. Eve followed with a yell. The cold water cut into her big ass like a saw. As she stumbled deeper, Eve felt blades of ice on the lips of her pussy.

“Think of the fire, Banya girl.  Dive in, take a few strokes,” said Boris as he exited from the water.

Eve dunked and resurfaced immediately. She scrambled back to shore. For a moment, she completely forgot who she was. She tried to find her breath as cold needles drove her towards Boris, who hugged her mightily.

“You have known the fire.  Now you know the ice! Let’s run!”

Boris turned and took the lead, heading towards Sea Point where the Hudson meets the ocean. Absorbing the energy of the rising sun, they passed the many rock jetties of Coney, the skating rink, the marvelous Ferris wheel, and the rickety wooden roller coaster.

Boris and Eve ran wild and free in the morning light. Eve proved the faster of the two but every so often Eve would stoop to gather quarters from the tops of chiseled sand, giving Boris a mouthwatering view of her under parts. Her labia hung loosely and her bush blew in the wind. Boris watched her from behind, reminded of ancient Atalanta. Gazing at Eve’s cunt made Boris come alive and he picked up his step. He experienced his blood moving to his skin surfaces, neutralizing the cold and warming his soul.

At the end of the beach,  they looked across and saw Jersey. They circled back and began to retrace their steps for the return run to Brighton Beach.

Boris picked up the pace and Eve could feel the rush of blood and sweat batting back the remnants of cold in her body.  Boris shouted, “Follow me!”  He then took a detour, climbed a jetty and carefully ran along the top.

About midway over the jetty, he lowered himself through a crevice and let himself down a ladder cut into the boulder. Eve was right behind him. After Boris lit a lantern, she could discern multiple pallets covered with Persian rugs that created a floor on top of the sandy bottom of the jetty. The rocks and boulders formed a cave-like room.

Boris built a small fire out of dried driftwood. Eve reclined against a rounded boulder. She rested her elbows on concave indentures of rock. She flexed the knee and hip of her left leg and opened herself to Boris, who had gotten quite stiff watching her perform.

Boris lubed her up with fish oil and Vaseline. Eye to eye they started to dance. Eve murmured in his ear, “Baby, put a little sugar in my bowl.” Boris looked over her shoulders, through the cracks in the jetty, watching the smooth flight of gulls accompanied by the rhythmic flow of the waves.

Boris slowly moved his rigid column in time with the incoming tide. With each wave, he deepened his thrust. Invigorated by the smell of the sea, the cries of the gulls and Eve’s wet cunt, Boris was ready to come. All the while, Eve played him like a harmonica. She used the muscles of her vagina to press and pull his dick. A sudden python-like squeeze and Boris was coming.

Tightening, Boris took a big draw of breath and withdrew his penis. He spun Eve around and let out a stream of sperm all over the wrinkly surface of her budlike bum hole.  Eve, in turn, pirouetted swiftly and licked his knob clean.

That evening, Boris and Eve walked the boardwalk arm in arm, feeling the pleasant warmth flowing between them. The old world of Russia came alive as couples of all ages strolled along, accompanied by the charming music of the accordion and violin. Boris and Eve sauntered down the wooden walkway, past the lit-up rows of Russian restaurants, feeling the full ambience of Little Odessa (the affectionate Russian name for Brighton Beach, the city by the sea).

Suddenly a drunken fool appeared in front of them as if dropped from the sky and stabbed a screwdriver into a tree. Boris swiftly grabbed him by the hair and threw him down and slapped him viciously in the face.

A crowd began to gather as Boris kicked the maboul in the stomach once or twice. Above the din, a voice cried out a warning, “Careful, Colonel; he’s the son of an oligarch.”

“Oh, really. I will kick the derr mo out of this capaka. Let this privileged dura suffer a bit, learn a lesson or two.”

Boris left him in a heap, passed out.

Walking into the starlit night, the lovers agreed: Close call, it could have been us.

When they got to Eve’s apartment, they made violent, passionate love.  Eve pulled Boris’s hair and he repeatedly lashed her ass.  She bit at his ear and throat and ripped at his back.  He fucked her hard and she pumped her pelvis back powerfully.

However, Eve was denied the simple reassuring treat of Boris’s presence for the night. He had to do something or other and he expressed regret about not being able to stay. Before he left, they both agreed to meet at sunrise the next day at the first jetty.

After Boris departed, Eve fell into a deep sleep. She had a wondrous dream. She was standing on the beach under a double rainbow. Each radiated the misty colors of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet and purple. She raved as two dolphins traveled through the arch that connected the ocean with the mountain top.

The next day Eve ran to catch the sunrise but Boris did not show up, nor did he appear the rest of the week.  For several weeks he was absent. Eve grew frantic. She searched everywhere.

Eve sought out Lenny, a former Soviet tank commander in Afghanistan who was her car mechanic and a friend of Boris. Despite the fact that Russians in Brighton beach do not like to answer questions (brings up too many unpleasant memories and, generally, it’s too dangerous for a variety of reasons), Lenny was willing to talk.

“Lenny, help me,” she beseeched, “where is Boris?”

Lenny took pity on the Banya queen. He had been a commander and he could still act like one. He saw her misery.

“Listen, Eve, Boris no more,” he said quietly.

Eve cried.

Lenny hugged her and he held her close and whispered in her ear. He then gave her a small package.

A few weeks later, Eve walked down a deserted street near Coney. She wore leopard tights, a purple shirt and high pumps. She approached the double doors of a brand-new spa. Eve entered and went down a spiral staircase to the pool area in the basement. She viewed a somewhat exaggerated portrayal of summer at Brighton beach which covered the walls of the pool. Gigantic women in tiny swimsuits, their bodies bursting out.

An overflow of bushy hair and body parts surrounded a group of men getting massages from women who looked like they came off the walls.

Eve approached Fat Joey’s table as Lenny had advised. She waved off his masseuse. Eve resumed the massage without him being aware of the switch.

Eve asked, “What happened to Boris? Where is Boris?”

Startled, Fat Joey raised his head, saw who it was and relaxed.

“How would I know?” he said matter of factly. “Maybe you suck my dick and I would know.”

Not wanting to play games, Eve just turned him over and started sucking. Before long he shot his cum off the back wall of her mouth and gave an exhausted nod to a guy smoking in the far corner of the room. Eve walked over and examined the guy’s ratty face. She realized she knew the thin, unshaven man from a previous encounter.

“What do you want, sooka?” he muttered.

“What happened to Boris?” she mumbled.

“Boris no more.”

“Where…is he?”

“Listen, you be my girl now," he said while pointing to his crotch.

Eve opened her mouth so he could see dripping cum and mouthed the word, “Later.” Before leaving she left a card with her address on it.

Eve lived right on the beach in a red brick apartment complex built before the war. Boris had set her up there recently as part of a business arrangement. Eve tricked with Manhattan businessmen, Wall Street execs, Williamsburg hipsters and with the occasional gangster.

Later that night, Gromiko, the thin man, showed up.  Eve had left the door ajar and he walked right in without knocking. She was waiting for him in a see-through negligee. When he came in, Eve leaned back and pushed her pelvis forward, opened her legs wide, and gave him a show of the juicy pink folds of her very moist cunt. Gromiko dropped his pants in response and edged closer to the bed. Knowing his habits, Eve turned and let him fuck her anally. She squeezed strongly to make him finish.

Eve reversed herself slowly to face him.

“Now lick my pussy, comrade!” she commanded.

Eve thrust her bottom half upward towards his mouth. Gromiko got into it when Eve started to shake. Eve said, “Faster, harder with your tongue!” Gromiko complied, licking faster and faster, lapping greedily at the juicy wetness. Carried away by the frenzy, he didn’t see Eve’s hand go beneath the pillow for a small PSM military pistol. She eased it between her ass cheeks and pressed the nozzle against his throat.

"Sooka!", Gromiko laughed crudely as he reached up and smacked her sharply in the face.

"Ha, ha, little man, not so funny and not the smartest thing to do in front of a gun because mistakes do happen," she thought,but she knew that for Gromiko it was all foreplay and he was used to it and he favored it. So she took mental note, stand down girl and proceed with the plan.

Accordingly, she said in an alluring voice, "Come on my little shika, let's fuck again!"

After Gromiko left, Eve turned to the man in the darkened corner of the room.

"Well, was I convincing?" she said.

"Yeah,maybe a little too much so," the man said.

"Yes, I was a bit naughty."

"You think?"

"But you know it all had a purpose."

"Yes I do but really..."

"Perhaps you'd like to discipline me?" she teased.

Eve raised her negligee high, and swirled around and showed her ass to him, so he could fuck her vigorously from behind because, miraculously, Boris was back in Brighton Beach!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Later that night, Boris found Gromiko and took care of business.