The Crown of the Romanovs

Irina Ludmila Ekaterina Fiódorovna

Before pressing the bell on the floor he hesitated once more; seized with mixed feelings he turned his steps towards the nearby Gramercy Park heading to the subway that had led him there; however, before reaching the corner the young man returned to the building and without further hesitation finally pressed the button.

For a few minutes he waited, knowing that he should give the lady time to get to the kitchen and visualize who she was reaching through the camera.

Irina's slightly hoarse and accented voice came from the speaker.

"Come up, Thiago." She said directly.

As he climbed the venerable elevator and walked the short corridor, the young man's mind was still the seat of internal conflicts. His rational part sent him constant messages that he should get away from that place and that woman because otherwise it would weigh him down, but on the other hand he consciously experienced for the first time the attraction that the lady exerted on him, which greatly exceeded the s****l aspect and had to be attributed to the magnetism of her aristocrat's personality. 

In spite that the to the young man was aware of it, that same magnetism had trapped in its lines of force for more than thirty years, many men and women possessing a much stronger will than that of the Argentine.

Irina did not need to look through the peephole of the door because she knew who was coming, so she opened the door directly. Thiago was frozen in the presence of the woman. If he believed that she would be waiting for him in a barefoot or some other s****l intimate garment, the reality could not be more different. Irina wore a long black dress worthy of a soirée in a European castle or an Opera house in Vienna or Paris, which exposed her long neck and her very white shoulders while enhancing her elegant and stylized silhouette. Precisely on her neck a diamond necklace shone  returning the light from the corridor in a thousand reflections of different shades.

An overwhelming aroma enveloped her figure and on her face devoid of makeup she wore a smile while in her left hand she carried a glass of bubbly champagne. If the young man thought of the image of a queen, it was precisely that of the lady who received him

"Come in, Thiago Ferrari, come into my house."

When he did so, the aforementioned could not help but see himself in a large mirror located on a wall and when he saw his worn jeans and his black jacket, a feeling of shame invaded him.

The ldy led him to a large upholstered armchair located in the living room, in front of a beautiful coffee table and at an indication of her the man sat down. Only then did he perceive music coming from some artifact that was not in sight but that enveloped the entire environment. It was a Russian melody sung by a soprano voice; its slow, melancholic cadence, exquisitely sweet, had an effect on the visitor's mood.

"A glass of champagne?" Offered Irina. Before the assent of the newcomer she went to look for something so she momentarily left the wide room. Thiago stood up and discovered the source of the music that had had such a seductive effect, he went to the recorder. He took in his hands a CD case with the singer's face, a blonde woman with blue eyes with typically Slavic features; the names of the songs were written in both Russian and French. The young man read:

Crysanthèmes,

Mais oú trouver cette chanson,

Je vais seul sur la route,

Russie, la neige t`a recouverte,

Chanson de la jeune fille tendre.

 "Do you like Svetlana?" Irina's voice brought him out of his reverie state.

"Oh! Yes, she is very sweet and a little sad. "

"They are Russian folk songs, reflecting the deep and melancholic nature of our spirit." Irina sat in front of the boy and only then could he appreciate her huge blue eyes and her fine features. Despite her age, the woman who had tormented him during his dreams was still a true beauty. The young man did not miss Irina's distinguished manners, that had been masked by previous conversations.

The Russian showed interest in Thiago's work and social activities, and then with great skill questioned him until she was satisfied with the set of perceptions that allowed her to understand his deep personality.

Undoubtedly, he was a very intelligent young man, who showed great coherence in his conversation, quite naive and with few psychological defenses to behave in a hostile environment, with a fragile will which made him prone to being drawn especially by women of strong temperament strong like herself. At the same time, the aristocrat sensed an unusual feeling grow inside her that was both exciting and worrying.

"I must be careful not to fall in love with this boy, which could happen too easily."

Irina had already made the decision and  was evaluating its possible consequences

 This man would be hers and he would be exclusively hers !

This implied getting rid of all the rivals, which due to Thiago's good appearance were undoubtedly many. Unfortunately, among the rivals she had to evict from his soul was her lifelong friend and disciple. That decision had been incubating in the psyche of the noble from the night shock in which she had awakened altered by the germ of the idea.

Irina Fiódorovna imagined herself on the arm of the young man accessing the aristocratic environments of Europe, to which she had access by her birth. This was an aspiration of the utmost importance to her and she had never encountered a man of whom she could be proud in such circles. Once that decision was made, the development of a plan to seduce the young man was almost instantaneous, and the Russian did not hesitate to implement it.

Irina had sat down in a large upholstered chair and stretched her long legs on the soft Persian carpet.

"Sit at my feet," she said in a friendly tone.

When the boy had done it she added.

"Take off my shoes." The man removed one of the fine shoes and placed it on the ground; then guessing her intention he took the delicate foot in his hands and caressed her white skin while he looked Irina into her eyes, in which he found a sign of approval. Thiago raised his foot and brought it up to her mouth. Without stopping looking into her eyes for signs he kissed her little fingers; the woman breathed a weak sigh of satisfaction, she leaned her head on the back of the chair and closed her eyes.

 "What is this Russian song talking about?" Asked the young man.

 "Of a girl traveling alone on the desert road of the Russian steppe."

"So sad."

"Russian songs are like that, infinite distances, loneliness and sadness."

"The same as those of Argentine folklore."

"How can they be alike?"

 "Huge countries with great deserts."

"The result is introspection and melancholy."

Thiago ran his tongue over the sole of the woman's left foot who laughed at the tickling produced.

"It bothers you?"

 "Quite the opposite. Go on!" This time the response was a cry of satisfaction.

"You have all the instincts to give me pleasure." The comment was said in a whisper.

Thiago began to move slowly through the soft skin of the woman and as he did so her hands advanced on the boy's head.Irina twisted with pleasure and finally placed her hands on the nape of his neck, stroking his hair with increasing energy.

 The long black dress that the woman was wearing opened before the advance but at one point it was an obstacle so that the Russian totally unbuttoned it and with great ease took it off in a single movement. Thiago found that his lady was not wearing underwear which was even more exciting.

Irina turned off a small nightstand on a bedside table and the scene continued in the dark. The woman's entire body was lovingly explored for an extended period of time, stopping to allow her to acknowledge her own sensations. The skin of each of them permanently rubbed the other's, producing a redness in certain areas of the lady. Amid the joy of her heart, Irina Fiodorovna made a determination that would guide their destiny.