Date: Wed, 19 Feb 2003 20:47:43 -0500
From: John Paul <john_paul@comcast.net>
Subject: The Alphabet Lovers: Ivan

I really didn't want to be in Russia.  Nothing against the country or
its people -- they're both wonderful and pleasant -- but I'd had my fill
of cold weather from my trip to Norway just one week prior, I was tired
of traveling and I needed to be home dealing with the issues Elliott and
I were having.  Despite all that, I agreed to go to Moscow as a favor to
Jake.  At the last minute, his photographer came down with something
icky and couldn't make it.

So, there I was, in Moscow, freezing my balls off, taking pictures
outside of the Kremlin.  Jake was off somewhere trying to get directions
or something and I was just trying to pass the time.  I took a few
random shots of people passing by, trying to find something or someone
spectacular to catch my eye.  I found my subject in the form of a young
cutie standing outside of a pastry shop devouring a sugar-covered
eclair.

Half his face was covered in powdered sugar and he had cream all over
his lips and nose.  How seductively nasty!  I aimed my camera and
snapped away -- three, four, five pictures of the Russian hottie eating
his dessert so provocatively.  Sexual innuendos aside, the guy
photographed very well.  He was thin and statuesque, and had a soft
angelic face and naive, doe-eyed expression that was captivating.

I continued to watch him through the viewfinder.  He carefully sucked
the powdered sugar from his long, slender fingers until they were
squeaky clean.  Then he swabbed the cream off of his thin, rosy lips.  I
adjusted the bulge in my pants and took another shot for good measure.
These were definitely going in my private collection.

"You missed a spot," I yelled out.  He looked up and scanned the empty
sidewalk until he spotted me standing a few yards away, walking towards
him with a napkin.  "Right there, on your nose."

"Thank you," he said, turning down the napkin and licking the spot of
cream off his nose.  Damn, what a talented tongue.

"Was it good?" I asked.  "The eclair, I mean."

"Oh, yes.  This bakery makes the best desserts in town.  I highly
recommend you try them."

"I'll make sure to do that."

We stood there, exchanging awkward smiles and glances.  At about 6'6",
he was a good 7 inches taller than me and although he had the boyish
features of a teenager, I still felt like a child standing next to him.

"Well, thanks again," he said and started to walk away.  "Don't forget
to treat yourself to a dessert."

"Wait," I called out.  "Listen...I hope you don't mind, but I took a few
pictures of you just now."

"You were taking pictures of me?  Why?"

"I was, um... amused by your eating habits."

His wrinkled his brow and chuckled nervously.  "My eating habits?"

"Yeah... it was funny watching you eat that pastry.  There was cream and
sugar everywhere."

He chuckled a little more warmly that time.  "I guess that was a sight
to see... although, I'm a little worried that you were watching me eat...
and actually took pictures of it."

"Yeah, I guess that sounds a bit creepy, doesn't it?  But, I'm not a
stalker or anything; it's what I get paid to do... take pictures, I mean."

"Like fashion and models?"

"No.  I work for an American travel and exploration magazine."

"Neat!" he said.  Then his friendly, dimpled smile slowly faded.  "Are
you going to use my pictures in your magazine?"

"Maybe," I answered, knowing full well that his pictures were going to
be used in my private jerk-off collection.  "But I can't use them unless
you sign a waiver giving me permission to," I added.

"Hmm... I don't know.  I'm not sure I want my picture in some American
magazine; especially not those pictures.  I probably look stupid."

"No way!  They'll be great.  Our readers love candid shots of the locals
and you... well, you're so photogenic.  They'll love you."

"I don't know... maybe if I could see the pictures first."

I reached in my pocket, pulled out my business card, scribbled down some
information on the back then handed it to him.  "I'm staying at the
Baltschug Kempinski.  There's the phone number to my room.  Come by this
evening and I'll let you see the pictures."

He read the card then stuffed it in his coat pocket.  "Sounds fair
enough," he said.  "I'll see you this evening, then."

He smiled and waved then walked away.  I watched his tight, little ass
bounce down the street.

"Who was that?" Jake asked, suddenly popping out of nowhere.

"Dessert," I replied.



The phone rang in my hotel room around a quarter till eleven.  I had
just cozied up to a John Irving novel and considered not answering it.
Five rings later, I finally picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. Batista, this is Ivan," said the mysterious voice on the
line.

"Ivan?"

"You know, the guy you were taking pictures of today."

"Oh!  I didn't think you were going to show up."

"Yeah, I know it's late... I can come back tomorrow if you want."

"No, it's cool as long as you don't mind coming up to the room instead.
You see, I'm already dressed for bed and..."

"Hey, it's no problem; I can come up."

I gave him the room number and hung up.  A few minutes later there was a
knock at the door.  I threw on one of the white guest robes from the
bathroom then hurried to answer the door.  Ivan was standing on the
other side of the threshold looking as scrumptious as ever in his dark
gray dress slacks and tight, black turtleneck.  His medium-length, brown
hair was heavily gelled and slicked back, drawing even more attention to
his beautiful, dark brown eyes.  His lips pulled back into a wide smile
and I was nearly blinded by the shine.

"Come on in," I said, stepping aside to let him pass.  He stepped
through and walked into the sitting area.  "Can I get you something to
drink?"

"No thanks, I'm fine," he said, looking around the room before taking a
seat on the small red sofa.  "Thanks again for seeing me so late.  I
hope I didn't wake you or disturb you."

"You didn't.  In fact, you're lucky you caught me at all; I'm usually
out partying this time of night."

"That's where I was," he admitted.

"You stopped partying to come see some stupid pictures?"

"Yeah.  At first, I wasn't going to come at all, but then... I don't know;
I guess I was curious to see what these pictures were all about.
Besides, the party wasn't that great anyway.  No action, if you know
what I mean."

I matched his grin with an even wickeder one of my own.  "I know exactly
what you mean."  I walked into the bedroom to get the photographs.  I
came back out and handed him the small manila envelope.  Ivan opened the
envelope and inspected the pictures.  He smiled, and even laughed, as he
flipped through the snapshots.  He really did have an amazing smile.
"These are great pictures.  I look ridiculous, but they're good."

"Don't be silly; you look great."

Ivan smiled, again, and even blushed a bit.  He put the pictures back in
the envelope and handed them to me.  "Keep them; they're yours."

"Wow!  Thanks."

"Does this mean I can use your pictures?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Excellent," I said.  "Let me go get a waiver form for you to sign.
I'll be right back."  I walked back into the bedroom to get the form.
When I came back, Ivan was standing up with a small white box in his
hand.

"I stopped by the pastry shop on my way here and got you one of those
eclairs.  I had a hunch you didn't go inside like I suggested."

I hung my head in mock shame.  "You're right; I didn't."

"All is forgiven if you try one right now," he said, handing me the box.

I untied the fancy red string and opened the box.  The wonderful sweet
smell hit me as soon as I lifted the lid.  Inside were two eclairs, just
like the one he was eating when I met him.  I gently lifted one out and
set the box on the table.  The first bite was heavenly; I'd never tasted
anything like it before.  The light, buttery dough was coated in honey
and melted like syrup on my tongue.  The first gobs of rich cream gushed
out of the center and dripped onto my lip and chin.  I took another bite
and hummed in utter delight.  Less than a minute later, I had savagely
devoured the ample dessert and was licking sugar and cream off of my
lips and fingers.  Ivan looked on and laughed.

"You missed a spot," he said, pointing to a spot on my nose.

I tried to lick it clean like I had seen him do earlier, but my tongue
was nowhere near as nimble as his.  Again, he laughed at my predicament.

"Here, allow me," he offered.

Ivan stepped closer, stuck out his tongue and licked the dollop of cream
from the tip of my nose.  I shivered from the sudden rush of pleasure.
He licked it twice more then turned his attention to my powdery lips.
His tongue lazily skimmed across my lips, lapping up every trace of
powdered sugar it could find.  When he was done, he kissed me and I
could taste the syrupy sweet flavor on his lips.  It somehow tasted
sweeter on him.

He pulled away slightly, but stayed just close enough so that I could
feel his hot breath on my face.  He looked down at me with his
bottomless brown eyes and said, "I'm not sure which one is sweeter: you
or the eclair."

I untied my robe and let it fall open, revealing my bare chest to him.
"You wanna take another taste?"

He grinned, his dimples deeper than ever, and then plunged in for
another slow, passionate kiss.  His hands crept under my robe and
settled on my sides as his tongue danced playfully inside my mouth.  He
pulled his mouth away from my pouting lips then slowly kissed his way
down my chest and stomach.

Now he was kneeling in front of me with his hands firmly grasping my
waist, licking and kissing my often overlooked navel.  I half giggled,
half moaned as his tongue flicked across the tiny nub.  He looked up at
me through those long, curly lashes as his mouth wandered down the front
of my boxers and found sanctuary on the prominent lump inside.  He
sucked and licked my package like he had licked and sucked his fingers
earlier.  The front of my cotton shorts were soaked and started to tent
up from my resulting erection.

"Mm yeah... suck that cock Ivan," I moaned.

I grabbed a good fistful of his hair and crammed my crotch into his
ravenous mouth.  He tightened his grip on my hips and attacked my cock
with his teeth and tongue.  My hard-on strained to free itself from the
now tight confines of my blue plaid boxers.  I leaned my head back,
closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensational crotch-munching the young
Russian was giving.

I was really getting into it and so was he, I gathered, by the way he
was moaning and shit.  Then I felt his teeth grabbing at me and his
tongue swirling around.  It felt good, mind you, but I looked down to
see just what the hell he was doing.  What he was doing was unbuttoning
my boxers with his mouth!  In seconds, he had my fly open and my dick
out without taking his hands off my hips.

"You like?" he asked, looking up at me with those big, sexy, brown eyes.

"Yeah, that's hot!" I said.  My cock bobbed up and down in agreement,
slapping Ivan on his face.

He caught the bouncing slab of meat in his mouth and sucked the end of
it with all his might.  I swear it felt like he was sucking the pre-cum
right out of my nuts.

"Oh yeah oh yeah oh yeah," I babbled.  "Suck my balls dry, baby."

He pulled his lips off with a resounding pop then swatted at the swollen
head with his playful tongue.  Ivan licked his way down the length of my
shaft to my balls.  He gave each one a kiss, licked it until it was
dripping wet then sucked it dry.  I guess he took my command literally.
I'd had my nuts sucked before but never with as much infatuation as Ivan
was lavishing upon them.

After he finished guzzling my nads, Ivan flicked his tongue back up the
length of my pole.  Like he had done with my balls, he swabbed the
engorged tip until it glistened and dripped with his spit then sucked it
bone dry.  He repeated this a few times and I thought I would pop any
minute.

"Suck it... please," I groaned, reestablishing my grip on his head and
trying to feed my lizard down his throat.

He resisted.  "Just relax and let me do this."

I relaxed the clutch I had on his hair and let Ivan continue his job.
He opened his mouth wide and fed my cock into it, being extra careful
not to let his lips, teeth or tongue touch it even slightly until I
bottomed out in his throat.  He closed his mouth and enveloped my dick
in his warm, wet maw.  He had a good six or seven inches eaten and he
started to work on that with his talented mouth.

The things he did with his tongue and throat are hard to describe.  He
massaged the head with his throat while his tongue stroked and caressed
the shaft.  The whole time, his head never moved a single inch.
Periodically, he'd grab my ass and feed another half inch down his
throat until he had choked down the entire ten inches.  Now, with my
prick shoved down his throat and his nose nestled in my pubic hair, Ivan
stuck his tongue out and started licking my balls.

"Holy shit, Ivan!" I howled.  "I... I..."

He was sucking my cock so good I was speechless.  I wanted to fuck his
mouth so badly, but he had a firm hold on my hips.  He was doing all the
work for me.  It wasn't long before I felt that rumbling in my nuts and
that tingling in the pit of my stomach.  I started to tense up.  He
instinctively pulled his mouth off of my dick.  His tongue flicked along
the underside of the head, coaxing me to cum.
Boy, did I.  My cock jerked and bobbed with every blast, spraying jizz
all over his face and in his hair.  Ivan caught some of it in his mouth
and greedily licked away the drops on his lips, chin and nose.  I
squeezed out the last sticky drop onto Ivan's tongue which he swallowed
with a satisfied smile.

"So, what's your verdict?" I asked, looking down at his cum-splattered
face.

"You're cream is tastier by far."

I smiled at him then bent down to kiss him.  I could still taste my cum
on his lips... or was it Bavarian cream?  "C'mon, let's get you cleaned
up."

I led Ivan to the bathroom and gave him a towel.  "There's soap and
shampoo in the shower," I pointed out.

"Won't you be joining me?" he asked before pulling his sweater over his
head.

One look at his smooth chest and large, brown nipples and I couldn't
resist.  I shucked off the robe and boxers then watched Ivan strip out
of his clothes.  Ivan had a nice body -- a little on the lean side but
very tight.  I finally got to see his dick.  It was average in length --
maybe five or six inches -- but it was rock hard and ready to go.  And
that ass... it was a nice handful of tight, hard muscle.  I couldn't wait
to get into that.  He jumped in the shower and I followed closely
behind.

Let's just say there was more playing around than there was showering.
He unleashed that talented tongue on my ass until I was begging him to
fuck me.  And he did.  They're not kidding when they say it's not the
size of the ship, but the motion in the ocean.  I'd certainly had much
bigger dicks than his, but Ivan managed to fuck not one, but two loads
out of me.  I was so exhausted and satisfied that I didn't even attempt
to tap his tight Russian ass.

We finally stopped fucking around long enough to actually clean up.
Ivan got dressed, gave me another hot, nasty kiss, and then left.  I
never got him to sign that waiver form, but it didn't matter -- I never
planned on using him in the mag anyway.

I grabbed the pastry box and sat down to eat my other eclair.  To this
day, whenever I eat a cream-filled pastry, I can't help but think about
Ivan from Russia.