About perishable nature

(based on the story by Anton Pavlovich Chekhov)

Court counselor Semyon Petrovich Podtykin watched himself from head to toe in the mirror, poured his bald head with a quarter of a flask of perfume for greater effect, threw on his silk gown brought by his father-in-law from China, and, burning with impatience, he went to the bedroom, where his young wife had been waiting.

Out of habit he tightly shut the door behind (Semyon Petrovich was afraid of envious persons), and looked around. In front of him, like of a General, watching the field of battle, there was the whole picture spread. In the middle of the room, on the bed of Lebanese cedar (a few years ago, Podtykin had bought it almost for nothing from a bankrupt landlord) under the lush canopy his wife was reclining. Having bent the leg at the knee, she was slowly taking off her fishnet stocking. There were the jacket, the blouse, the corset, the muslin skirt, the belt with elastic bands and other stuff scattered around her in artistic disorder. Podtykin was looking at it all stroking his hollow chest with the smile of the winner. His eyes were oily dimmed, the face twisted with lust.

- Well, why taking so long? - he winced, turning to his wife. – Katya, faster!

At last she threw off the lacy panties and, naked, stretched out on the bed. Semyon Petrovich looked over the shimmering white body of his wife. His gaze slid over her face, her neck, lingered on the huge breasts with large pink nipples and, having run down the rounded belly, he stared at the plump hand, modestly covering the cherished womb.

Podtykin smiled nicely, hiccupped with delight and throwing off the gown, on half bent legs he ran up to the cherished bed. Then, stirring up appetite and enjoying the anticipation, he slowly pushed his wife's hand aside and, like a child breathless and with joy, he drove his trembling fingers over the thick hairs on the joints of the legs of his better half, over her snow-white belly and juicy breasts. Then, numb and breathless, he awkwardly climbed his wife above, drove his thick cock over the swollen vulvar lips, touched the clitoris and at last almost thrust it into the juicy pulp of the yawned abyss in front of him.

But then he had the apoplectic stroke.

June, 1983

Second edition: October, 1990