Tanya

Russia, Late 18th Century

She stirred in her bed and snuggled closer to the warmth she felt at her side.

It was always so much nicer to wake up with warm flesh pressed against hers. Raising one knee up so she could further curl it around the body by her side and press herself against her bedmate she practically purred as her hands began to wander.

She never understood why artists said they found the female form so much more interesting than the male form. It wasn't that she didn't understand and know her own body; it was that the male body was so different and it was also so pleasurable.

As her hand wandered against the nicely formed chest at her side feeling the muscles, the light spattering of hair, she marveled at the difference from her own. She also let her mind wander to how that chest had felt pressed against her own the previous evening.

Lifting her head from the pillow, she slowly opened her pale green eyes and let her eyes rest on the face of her companion. He was handsome with his dirty blond hair, chiseled features, and slightly full lips.

What was his name?

As she felt his body start to respond to her touch and, well, rise to the occasion, she realized that his name didn't matter. It wasn't like any of their names really mattered. It was only what they did between the sheets, or out of them, depending on what mood struck them that mattered.

And, whoever this fellow was laying beside her, duke or farmhand, he was quite good at giving and taking pleasure. As he began to slowly wake, more than just his body stirring to her touch, she let a soft grin slowly curl up the corners of her own full lips.

Yes, she definitely wanted a taste of him again.

Nuzzling his neck she felt his own hands start to wander, her flesh becoming more heated with his touch, and she had already been aroused enough before he'd woken.

When he was fully awake and his lips found hers, he displayed that control and possessiveness that she'd always found so appealing. As he pulled her roughly under him she couldn't help the giggle that escaped from between her lips, but as he worked his tongue, lips and hands against her flesh that sound quickly turned into a moan.

This is what she liked. There was no gentleness here, only lust and passion.

It wasn't long before their cries, moans, and gasps of pure, unadulterated pleasure filled the small room around them, echoing off the walls. With the forcefulness with which they took each other she was more than certain she would have bruises on top of the ones that she'd gained the previous evening, but she didn't care. No, she rather enjoyed his roughness.

And when the sound of his flesh moving against hers was punctuated with his hoarse, deep voice calling, "Tanya!" she could only smile and moan in return.

By the time they had both been sated enough to even consider leaving the bed, the sheets were tangled, wrinkled, and soiled from their escapades. The light was entering the small room in such a way that suggested that most of the morning had come and gone without much thought.

Leaving her companion on the bed she stood up and went to stand in front of the window, unabashed by her nudity. As she moved the curtains aside and the light caressed her pale flesh she raised her hands above her head and arched her back, stretching her long limbs, working out the kinks that had developed from her early morning romp.

She also felt the eyes of her companion boring into her back and she turned her head, looking at him as he sat, leaning against the headboard, his hair standing out in tangled tufts around his head.

Seeing the admiring look in his eyes she couldn't help her smile. She knew that most women relied on corsets and wired undergarments to create the perfect shape and although she conformed to the fashion of the times she didn't need the various undergarments to enhance her already full breasts that tapered down to a small waist that flared out once again into her rounded hips and rear. She had a body women coveted and envied and men desired.

Studying her companion she could not fully return the admiration.

He had a perfect body, but, hmm, perhaps he wasn't as handsome as she'd thought, though there was no doubt that she'd enjoyed their time together.

Unfortunately she recognized the look in his eyes. He wanted more than just a night and a morning.

It was so unfortunate when they got attached.

Moving towards her dresser she poured a bit of water from a pitcher there into a nearby wash basin even as she watched his reflection via the small mirror hanging nearby. He had moved to the edge of the bed and was relieving himself into the chamber pot he'd apparently found under the bed.

The sound of his stream of urine hitting the porcelain of the chamber pot was finally drowned out by his voice. "So what shall we do for the rest of the day, my lady?'

My lady, it was apparent that the man was an aristocrat. It figured.

She had always been amused by the fact that every man that she'd been with, whether of the noble or peasant class, acted pretty much the same when it came to a good fuck.

Strangely enough though, it was always the rich ones that got attached. She really wished they wouldn't. It made it all rather messy when they realized that she wasn't interested in anything long term.

As she splashed water on her face and then retrieved a clean washcloth so she could clean off a bit she shrugged her shoulders.

"I have appointments." She turned to give him a pouty look over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, dorogoi."

Of course it was all an act. It was easier if they believed she was busy than trying to convince them she didn't want anything more to do with them.

Most of them got the hint and when they met at various soirees and gatherings her rejection was enough to make them pretend they didn't know her, thus keeping her reputation in tact.