Two Love Birds in Orenburg

For the past thirty years, Jean-Pierre always visited a different country at the end of the Summer. In 2018, he changed his pattern and decided to return to Russia because a touring company offered him to write a series of articles on Orenburg, southeast of Moscow, on the boundary of Europe and Asia. Jean-Pierre was planning to describe the habitat of species along the Ural river: Dalmatian pelican, greater flamingo, squacco heron, short-toed eagle and whooper swan.

His plan was however defeated when he arrived at the Stepnaya Palmira Hotel. Just as he walked towards the registration desk, a twenty-five-year-old handsome guy with a “Stay Hungry for Creativity, Inspiration & Art” t-shirt winked at him and briefly disappeared… to come back fives minutes later in a dressed shirt with an Aleksandr name tag. He took Jean-Pierre’s reservation, smiled intriguingly, gave him the key and a welcoming handshake.

The smiling clerk then approached closely and whispered that it was a practice at this hotel to check if the client was satisfied with his room. “In two hours, I will knock to ensure that you are comfortably installed, Sir.” 

Since there was a nine-hour difference between Toronto and Orenburg, Jean-Pierre took a little nap after unpacking. He kept thinking of Aleksandr’s smile, of his manly deodorant, of his virile look. An hour later, Jean-Pierre showered, dressed causally and feverishly waited for the knock on the door, which was smooth and gentle. When Aleksandr walked in, he was carrying a tray with a bottle of champagne, two glasses, a plate of Swiss cheese and baguette dread, a bowl of cashew nuts and fresh fruits.

The hotel knew that the Canadian guest was a writer and would no doubt mention the hotel in his article, so a welcoming bang was in order. Jean-Pierre was more intrigued by the hotel clerk’s attitude than by the appetizing platter.

- Can I invite you for a drink after my shift, Sir?
- Of course, but call me JP. I will pay because I have a travel budget for such expenses.
- Very nice of you, my first Canadian guest. I do not want to impose, but maybe you would prefer to come to my place and have a more friendly welcome party…
- That is a great idea, my son, oh I mean my new Russian friend.
- Call me Sasha, it is more intimate, Sir… I mean JP.
- Can I embrace you, handsome Sasha?

The two men were energized and hugged firmly. JP tried to hide his bulging crotch, but Sasha just smiled and reciprocated with a kiss on the lips.

- I have to go back to the front desk. Meet me at 8 pm on the steps of the hotel, my King.
- You can count on me, my Prince.

JP took a map at the front desk, smiled at Sasha and was off for a quick tour of some icon attractions, the most touristic one being the Pedestrian Bridge between Europe and Asia. A picture of the Water Tower and of the Sculpture Sarmatskiy Olen was also a must, plus a short orientation tour of the Regional Fine Arts Museum, to be explored more deeply later in the week.

The meeting on the steps of Stepnaya Palmira Hotel was refreshing and exhilarating. Just after one turn on the next street, JP tried to hold Sasha’s hand, but was quickly reminded of a social-cultural difference in Russia. He did not have to wait too long because Sasha lived close by and as soon as his apartment door was closed, both men passionately kissed.

They cuddled on the love seat, whispering tender words of trust and bonding. JP found Sasha to be astoundingly sure of himself. The age difference was no barrier to a deep expression of emotions. Sasha had obviously prepared himself for this close encounter. His well-crafted poem could finally reach its climax:

You are my gentle, beloved, dear person,
I appreciate you, I adore you.
With all my heart, I love you!
You are my King, you are my ideal,
The Lord sent you to me as a reward.
Be the sweet sun which will enlighten my life.
I am happy with you, do you hear my dear?
You are sent by heaven to me, by fate.
Always be healthy, successful
And with me always be gentle.
May our dreams come true.
The best in this world is you!

Sasha then guided JP to his bedroom, slowly undressing him to cuddle again, but in all the splendor of a full-blown tower of virile beauty. Each kiss became a breath of Love. Each caress went beyond the erotic body to reach the inner soul, the heart.

That first night, JP did not try to go further down the road of lust. The romantic Canadian tourist knew that he would sleep with Sasha for the next week. He just dreamed of embracing him emotionally and sexually for the rest of his life.