For Love or Country

by Jesse Jordan

  Instead of jumping on him though, Ivan lets Mike chase him again, peppering him with jabs that open up the cut under his eye more. When Mike backs him into a corner, Ivan blocks and hammers him with a left body hook before spinning Mike around, pinning him against the ropes and nailing a five punch combo that ends with an earth shattering uppercut to the body that puts Mike down, his arms wrapped around his stomach, dry heaving onto the canvas.

  The gasp from the Corps is louder this time, and Ivan turns and walks away, resting casually in the corner again, at the count of four waving with his hand, urging Hernandez to get up. “He's not done yet?” Karli asks. “What's he trying to do, kill him?”

  “I don't think so,” I reply unsurely, watching as Hernandez struggles to his feet. I check the clock, there's still forty five seconds left in the round, and I can't help but feel a thrill go through me as Ivan bounces, his body covered in a light sheen of sweat. Hernandez gets up, and the ref checks him carefully before letting the fight go on. Ivan charges in, but stops before he can throw a punch, and stands there, his hands down again to an eruption of boos from the crowd as he dodges Mike's weak, slow punches until with five seconds left in the round he clubs Mike with another left hook to the body before grabbing him by the throat with his left glove and cocking his right hand back, a scream rising from a few people as Ivan pins him against the ropes, just holding him there. I can see the expression on Hernandez's face, he's scared witless as the bell rings, and Ivan just lets him off the ropes, the still angry sneer on his face. “He's humiliating him.”

  “Make him end it,” Karli whispers, “please.”

  “I can't,” I reply. “He's in the ring, what am I supposed to do?”

  “Talk to him. You have to talk to him, Chris. This isn't you, this sort of justice,” Karli says. “Hernandez might be a fucktard, but he's getting his ass beat like a dog in there.”

  Before I can reply the bell rings again, and Hernandez comes staggering out for the third and final round. Ivan still looks fresh, and he bounces, stinging jabs off of Hernandez's ruined face, keeping him teetering on the edge of falling, but not letting him down.

  The timekeeper calls out the time in the nearly silent gym. “Two minutes!”

  It's a signal to Ivan, who throws a gargantuan overhand right, the same overhand that I've seen him throw hundreds of times in practice, sending Mike careening into the ropes where Ivan pounces, his fists crashing over and over into Hernandez's battered, nearly senseless body. Someone else screams for the ref to stop it, but before he can, a white towel comes flying into the ring, thrown by the First Captain himself. They're giving up.

  Ivan though ignores the towel, turning and kicking it out of the ring before catching Hernandez with another powerful left hook to the body that sends him crashing to the mat, where he lands, struggling to get up but unable to. He crawls about halfway across the ring before dropping face first, his attendants already jumping in to help him even before the bell's rung. Two of the assistant look like they're about to start something with Ivan, but Ivan shakes his head and they back off, fear etched on their faces as the boos start. It's not just cadets again either, its the regular people in attendance as Ivan stands in his corner, casually watching as a medic goes to work on Hernandez, who's still laid out on the canvas. The ref goes over to the timekeeper, who listens then calls Colonel Anderson over. I glance at Karli, who's also looking confused. “What the hell's going on?”

  Colonel Anderson gets in the ring, taking the microphone with him. This time, instead of the confident bluster he had before the bout, he sounds subdued, bitter. “Due to unsportsman like conduct, Ivan Vasushenko has been disqualified. The winner, and Brigade Open champion... Mike Hernandez.”

  There's stunned, angry silence as Hernandez is helped from the ring, Ivan watching the whole time with that same look on his face. A few people boo him when he climbs out afterwards, but he ignores them instead as he walks towards the locker room, his eyes finding mine as he nods once. I understand.

  “It is of no concern to me, the title. Every man, woman and child in the arena saw who won the fight. Most importantly, Hernandez knows,” Ivan says later as we sit on the steps by the chapel. He's got his hands wrapped still, not with boxing wraps but with ice packs, his hands are swollen from the brutal beating he laid out in the finals. “He knows I was punishing him with a purpose.”

  I nod, swallowing. “Ivan... I'm torn in my feelings about what I saw tonight. Part of me was happy, celebrating with every drop of blood that I saw drip off of Hernandez's face. But you nearly beat him into a pretty long hospital stay. And what if this makes things more difficult for you?”

  “I doubt they can make it more difficult,” Ivan says with a shrug. “Besides Christina, I did not do it for the other cadets in the Corps. I did it for me, and for you. Tonight, the so-called powerless showed those with power that there are ways to shatter their little fortress on the hill. And I will not be written up for it, they will not punish me. They know the disqualification was bullshit. Until the ref stops me, I am allowed to keep punching.”

  “You planned to keep beating him down, didn't you?” I ask. Ivan nods, and I smile. “Thank you. It was romantic, in a certain Conan the Barbarian sort of way.”

  Ivan smiles, and gives me a look that makes me glad I'm already sitting down, my knees feel suddenly very watery. “You know, some people might say that you were at fault too. Moose and squirrel?”

  I laugh, nodding. “I knew you wanted to teach him a lesson. I also know he and Daria both are going to remember that lesson for a very long time.”

  “They will. In fact, your comment also helped me stay out of trouble. Major Franklin was also in the locker room. When he asked what your comment meant, I explained. Apparently, keeping me out of trouble for the disqualification is less important than keeping the Brigade Executive Officer and Athletics Officer out of trouble for bullying.”

  I can't help it, I snort. “Sounds like something Karli would plan, then. Actually, Karli reminded me about something. Do you have any plans for 500th Night?”

  Ivan shakes his head, looking over. “Are you asking me out? I thought the man was supposed to ask the woman, yet twice now you have asked me out.”

  “Think of it as the rebellious American spirit,” I tease, putting my hand on his forearm. “I know you don't want to go to Yearling Winter Weekend, so I won't waste your time sitting around for that one. But I'd be very proud if you would be my date to 500th Night.”

  Ivan considers it for a moment, then nods. “With two caveats, Christina.”

  “What's that?” I ask nervously. “I'm not exactly a woman of great means.”

  Ivan shakes his head and smiles. “It is not much. Just, after the dinner and the dance... I want to take leave. With you, for just a night and a day afterwards, I would like to get away from the restrictions of post. I would like to be able to hold your hand, or kiss you when we want, without worrying about rules and things like that. We can even let me pay for the hotel rooms. In fact, I insist, since that is my idea.”

  “Hotel room, Ivan. Singular. Even if we don't... well, you know... I trust you enough to share a hotel room with you. Okay then, we can put in for leave that weekend. And what's number two?”

  “That you do not do as I did and get yourself disqualified from the Swimming Open. Show the... what is it your friend calls them, the fucktards? Yes, show the fucktards how amazing you are by training hard, and winning at least one championship. But even better, go for two.”

  “I think I can do that. Come on, I'm freezing,” I say, shivering in the January air, “let's get inside. And we can start checking out hotel deals on my laptop.”

  The rented car feels strange as Ivan and I drive north along the highway. Instead of doing what most cadets do, heading down to New York City, we head north, towards Poughkeepsie and a hotel room nearby.

  “I cannot believe the deal you found,” Ivan says with a grin, looking over at me. “By the way, than
k you for driving. I have yet to get my driver's license in America.”

  “I figure that since you insisted on paying for the hotel room, I can insist on paying for the car. And since the cooking school is more or less paying for the food, that makes things good for both of us. And you have to admit, it's got to be better than that... what was that we supposedly ate again?” I ask as we approach the Poughkeepsie bridge to cross the Hudson River.

  “The mess hall claimed that it was broiled, herb crusted salmon with couscous and vegetable medley,” Ivan says, shrugging. “I have eaten worse.”

  “Yes... but MREs should not be the basis for comparison at a formal dining event,” I tease, Ivan nodding in agreement. “So did you enjoy yourself? I mean, we did get stares, and I didn't realize how chilly your reception would be.”

  “I am used to it, the only change is the degree, Christina. Like you, for the most part I am not effected by it. Besides, I had the prettiest date in the entire mess hall. That is a greater source of jealousy than my notoriety.”

  His words warm me, and I let myself bask in the compliment as we reach the hotel. They expected our late arrival, so check in is easy, we don't have any bags past a backpack each. Reaching our room, I blush lightly when Ivan sees that there is just one bed. “Hmm... I thought we agreed on two.”

  “I know,” I say shyly, setting my bag down. “But I emailed them after we made the reservation and... well....”

  Ivan cuts me off by pulling me close and kissing me, his mouth hot on mine. He's strong, powerful, his hands stroking my back and my hips until he lifts me up, giving him better access to my throat, his tongue electric on my skin.

  We tumble to the bed, Ivan still careful not to crush me underneath him, his hands tugging at my t-shirt to stroke my back, sensations that I haven't felt in years. I'm mewling, moaning like a kitten as he lifts my shirt up to my armpits and lets his hands roam over my skin. “Ivan....”

  He stops, looking into my eyes, his icy blues warm now with feeling. “I will be very careful, my beautiful Christina.”

  He sits back, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off, my heart stopping as his pale, creamy skin is exposed to me. I've seen him with no shirt on before obviously, swimming has become an exercise in erotic pleasure to me, but knowing what we're about to do, it's even more amazing. He scoots back off the bed and unbuttons his pants, looking at me. “Do you want me to take off my pants? You always have a choice, you know.”

  I nod, and sit up myself, pulling off my t-shirt and dropping it on the side of the bed, then getting off the bed to unhook my bra and let it fall. Ivan's smile fades as he looks at me in amazement, blinking silently until he looks up at me and nods reassuringly. “You truly are beautiful.”

  “You make me feel beautiful,” I tell him, stepping closer. “But I don't want you to take off your pants. I want to take them off for you.”

  Ivan nods, his hands falling to his sides as I unbutton my jeans and push them down along with my panties, standing before him naked for the first time. I haven't been naked in front of a man in two years, but I'm not nervous, not with the way Ivan looks at me. I stand on my tiptoes and kiss his lips before kissing across the smooth skin of his chest, my hands fumbling a little while I find the button on his pants and undo it before sliding the zipper down. I can already feel the heat of his cock, but I don't look until I push his underpants down and step back.

  “Oh....” is all I can offer up as Ivan stands before me. He's as blonde downstairs as he is on his head, the closely trimmed hair nearly invisible against his skin. His cock isn't porn star huge, but that doesn't mean I'm not impressed. Long and slightly curved upwards, just looking at it sends warm trembles through my thighs and up into my stomach. “Ivan... don't take this the wrong way, but you're beautiful too.”

  Ivan smiles and pulls me close, his cock mashed between us as he kisses me again. I'm just short enough without my shoes on that he has to bend his head more than what's comfortable, and he leads me back to the bed, stretching out besides me as we keep kissing.

  I've never felt my body filled with such pleasure even as he just kisses and lets his hands stroke my skin, never touching me on my breasts or between my legs, but it seems like his body touches everything else, goosebumps of pleasure breaking out as he explores me. I try to return, my hands feeling the muscles that I've been looking at for months, but I'm overwhelmed, my brain frizzing out again and again as Ivan finds another spot on my skin that leaves me gasping and moaning.

  “Christina,” he whispers in my ear, even the tickle of the warm air causing me to squirm in anticipation, “I would like to taste you.”

  I nod, unable to believe what's about to happen. I've had two lovers before Ivan, both short term things that were fumbling, almost tedious things. Never have I felt the amazing feelings as Ivan kisses down my body, still almost consciously avoiding my breasts and nipples as he scoots down, my legs parting to let him in on their own, my breath catching as he looks up at me, smiling. I nod, and he reaches out with his tongue.

  I don't know how to describe what happens to me the instant Ivan's tongue touches the lips of my pussy. It's like a rifle shot goes through me, my nerves all lit up at one time, pleasure beyond anything I've ever thought possible. He licks softly, my body shook by the sensations each time, and I am awakened to new heights of ecstasy. Masturbation? Regular sex? Nothing compared to what Ivan does, sending rapture through me with his constantly writhing tongue. After teasing my outer lips he goes inside, my wetness coating his face I'm so aroused I can see it glistening on his lips and around his nose even as he licks me deeply before he withdraws and looks up, his eyes twinkling happily. “Now... your clitoris.”

  “But I....” I begin, but Ivan licks again, and my eyes go wide. I knew it existed, but I've never been very good at touching it right. Ivan though, his tongue finds my clit and teases it inside its hood, my back arching as he sucks on it gently, just hard enough to draw it out of hiding before his tongue speaks love poetry on my body, and I am left senseless.

  Love... is that what this is? This feeling inside me, or is it just the electric sensations of mindblowing sex? I don't know, but I'm coming, oh my God I'm coming so hard, I didn't know it could be this good....

  Maybe I gray out a little, because the next thing I'm aware of is the sound of a foil packet being opened, and Ivan's kneeling between my legs, rolling a condom down his cock and covering it with a little bit of lubricant. I smile, breathless, and nod. “Yes, Ivan. Oh God yes....”

  Ivan lifts my hips, his eyes still fixed on my face and lines himself up. The feeling of his cock starting to fill me opens up doors to my heart and soul again, but it's not just his cock. It's in the way he looks at me, his eyes full of meaning and his hands coming up to caress my breasts for the first time as he slowly, in gentle strokes that don't hurt but just let me adjust perfectly, penetrates me until I feel him all the way inside. Ivan stretches out as he does, letting him kiss me tenderly as he lifts his hips and begins to thrust, his cock leaving me even more breathless than his tongue.

  I expected him to be aggressive, powerful, taking and greedy with my body. I had anticipated having to 'hold on for a ride,' that Ivan's sex would be like his boxing, powerful and brutal. Instead, he's gentle, his body strong but the strength reassures me, letting me know that I'm safe as his cock fills me again and again. My fears are washed away, replaced with a warmth that builds in my chest as we kiss and look into each other's eyes while our bodies move together, my pussy filled over and over, the curve of his cock rubbing over my g-spot with every thrust.

  “Christina....” Ivan whispers before English fails him and he mutters in Ukrainian, his hips speeding up. I wrap my legs around him, giving myself fully to him as we build, faster and harder. Our hips start to slap together, and I feel myself building towards another orgasm, Ivan's back flexing as I my fingers claw at his skin. I urge him to not hold back, but I can't make words, each thrust making me groan and moan with the pleasur
e.

  My body is trembling, a violin string being stroked by his cock as we build higher and higher. Ivan's shaking, and I squeeze him, on the edge myself, and his eyes open wide, he's there. With a final hard thrust, he comes, the feeling of the hard slap of his hips sending me tumbling myself, both of us groaning as we crash into climax, and I know that regardless of whatever else happens in my life... this man I need.

  Chapter 8

  Ivan

  Brunch is amazing, far better than the cardboard and foam that we ate for our 'banquet' the night before. With smoked eggs, beef tartare, vegetable galettes, and more, we both enjoy the luxurious meal, all for twenty dollars since the whole spread was produced by students of the culinary college we eat at.

  More importantly to me though is the chance to just be with Christina. Long after she fell asleep last night, her naked body nestled against me and her head resting on my chest, I laid awake, thinking. I am still confused now, as I cannot say that I was just 'fucking' her. Oh, we surely at some point used that term last night, or maybe this morning when she woke me up with little kisses that turned into another passionate, and more energetic, lovemaking session. The sight of her ass in my hands as I thrust into her from behind is something I can still not get out of my head, although looking over and seeing her smile, it helps. She sets her fork down and leans over to whisper in my ear. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Nothing that should be repeated in a restaurant,” I reply with a small chuckle. “Unless they are willing to give us more privacy.”

  Christina blushes, and takes my hand, squeezing it. “Ivan, about last night....”

  “I know,” I reply, kissing her knuckles. “And it meant a lot to me too.”