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Pash

By: VMKane



(Author's note. It's entirely up to you, but you will probably get more out of both if you read Shipwreck before this one.

At the outset I should probably warn you that it's perhaps not for everyone. Whilst there certainly is sex, it's not exactly a sex story as such and I did not write it with Literotica in mind. However, as Shipwreck has turned out to be quite popular, it might be of interest to anyone who would like to know a bit more about Kat.

It's also not a nice straightforward linear narrative. The main action is set -- as the old films say -- somewhere in England, in September of 1948. A section break of '***' denotes an act change in that present; whereas '

Pash



She pulled on some clothes at the first hint of dawn and tiptoed downstairs for a smoke in the garden. She was leaning on the wall watching the mist burn off when she heard the steps behind her.

"I am sorry, Kat. I heard some banging about and ..."

"I think perhaps I should go."

"Why on earth for?"

"I'm not a very good guest. You can't be sleeping any better than I am."

"I thought you said we were friends."

"There are limits, Pam. I'd understand."

"I wouldn't. I'm not turning you away like this."

"I can't be easy."

"Do you think you ever were?"

Kat offered her a Craven but she shook her head. It's not six in the morning yet, Kat, normal people don't need to smoke at this hour.

"Thank you."

"I really didn't mean to embarrass you like that. Forgive me?"

"It's fine. I should apologise to you for not being a little more discrete."

"I miss ..."

Sudden stop. So typical of the last few days: old friends who no longer quite knew each other; comfortable and yet nervous in each other's company.

"... your hair is such a mess. Come inside for a cup of tea, and then I'll brush it for you. I don't see how you could possibly enjoy breakfast with it feeling like that."

It made Kat smile. Part of her wanted to laugh, as if a little tangled hair could compare to all the other things; and yet she knew that it was true for all that.

It was only when they got back to the kitchen and Kat sat down that Pamela realised she had been outside barefoot.

"Heaven's sakes, Kat, look at you. You've been standing on gravel."

She knelt down and reached out for them. Kat pulled away.

"No."

"What's wrong?"

"Please. Just don't touch them."





Pash



"Hullo."

"Good morning."

"Thank you, Kat."

"My pleasure. Let me make you some breakfast."

"I've been so alone."

"It's alright, my sweet, you don't need ..."

It was the look on Pamela's face. It took her back to the top of that hill and seeing them blocking her escape, the same feeling of utter hopeless emptiness.

"You're such a good friend, you always have been. I needed not to be alone last night. I'm so grateful for your kindness ..."

She closed her eyes, concentrating on the feeling of where their bodies touched, trying to draw it inside herself to retain forever. Please, Pamela my love, please stop speaking now. Please.

"... I'm sorry, Kat, I couldn't ever love a woman. Not in that way. I simply couldn't."

[Historical afterword: this tale is, among other things, a bit of a love song to the great British war films of the 1950s, and if you weren't raised on those then you may find it quite heavy going. Kat's career is an invention based loosely on several actual agents. Because it's inspired as much by cinema as history, there's more than a little of Violette Szabo, the subject of perhaps the best of all those films. In addition there are traces of both Nearne sisters, Odette Hallowes and Noor Inayat Khan. Jacqueline Nearne appeared in a '40s film as the character 'Cat'; that's entirely coincidental and no connection is implied. Kat's sexuality is certainly not something I regard as wrong or shameful, but it is my invention and I'd like to make entirely clear that it was not drawn from any of those real women.

In outline, the story goes like this. At the outbreak of war in 1939, Kat is just about to start her studies at Newnham College, Cambridge. After a short period she drops out to do her bit and before long finds herself driving ambulances as a member of the First Aid Nursing Yeomanry. At some point in late 1941 she is recruited by the Special Operations Executive. She trains as a field agent and radio operator at, among other establishments, Wanborough Manor in Surrey. She spends almost a year in France during 1942-3, working as a liaison officer between French resistance groups and London. On her return, she continues to work at the UK end of the network; and it is during this period that she meets Pearl. Shortly before D-Day, in May 1944, she is parachuted back into France to help organise sabotage against German lines of communication; and is captured in late July. She is held briefly at Fresnes prison in Paris, where she is tortured; then sent to Ravensbrück concentration camp in eastern Germany. Few of the agents who went into Ravensbrück survived the experience, but Kat has the good luck to be transferred to a less secure work camp from which she escapes; and manages to find her way far enough across Germany to be liberated by the western Allies rather than the Red Army. Oh, and for any puzzled gun folk reading this, the M1 carbine was sometimes known as a 'Winchester' in its very limited British service.]



Pasha on the Playa Pt. 01



Author's Note: Burning Man is the world's greatest fantasy event. This story is based on an actual encounter.

*****

The sun was up and already hot. Voices were speaking to me, although an incredible hangover headache prevented comprehension.

"Look at him! What are you doing, lying in the dust?"

I glanced down, groaning. Overnight, the wind had come up and I was covered in an inch or two of white. Playa dust from the Black Rock desert not only covered me, but also my sleeping bag, my cot, and everything else in the fancy big tent I had bought for this trip. The dust was itchy and awful.

I sat up with great difficulty. "Water?"

"Elena, is he too stupid for us? Who puts up a tent and leaves it without the fly in a dust storm?"

Elena handed me her water bottle with a sympathetic nod. "He has troubles, like he said last night. Woman trouble."

The other voice, which I dimly remembered belonged to Katerina, said, "Come with us. You need shower first before we talk."

I stumbled after them, clad only in my shorts, asking, "What was in that punch? I am dying."

"Is special homemade vodka from our uncle Ivan's still. Very potent. We told you to sip, but you gulped. Is very popular. He has many customers from Park Slope. We brought some for the giving."

The side of their large rental box truck had a shower rigged up, complete with the required basin to capture gray water. They pulled off my shorts and thrust me under the head, which dripped a barely adequate amount of lukewarm water. Before I could say anything, two naked female bodies were standing in the basin with me. It was crowded but delightful. They had liquid soap and soon we all were sliding on each other. Elena placed my hand over her substantial breast and said, "We wash each other. Saves water."

Two things were happening. My head was clearing and my cock was growing. They grabbed him and giggled. "Yes. In the book it says he is well-endowed. This will be ok."

Still in a fog, I was led to one of their camp chairs and allowed to dry in the desert breeze. Elena approached with a full glass of something and said, "Drink. Old Russian recipe. Good for hangover."

There was a portable camp table to go with the camp chairs and soon breakfast appeared. Fruit, juice, bagels, sliced ham, cream cheese, black bread.

"Is Brooklyn breakfast. Ok?"

"Yes. Very ok." I gazed at my companions, whom I had known since yesterday afternoon. Curly hair, strong Slavic features. Ample bosums. Hips that could have been well padded, but weren't. Muscled thighs and legs. All three of us were naked, which would have been strange, except that we were at Burning Man, where many thousands of mostly naked people were spending the week.

My head was much better and I apologized for being such a lunkhead.

The women looked at each other. "Do we know lunkhead?"

I explained, "I grew up in Minnesota. Someone very dull was called a lunkhead by the 

Swedes."

Elena was sitting in my lap, her left breast less than six inches from my lips. 

"You remember, we are librarians? Supposed to know words. You will teach us more strange American words?"

I hugged her and licked the prominent pink nipple so close by. "Yes, words I can tell you about. I am a plumber and a part time writer."

Katarina said, "In Russia, plumbers are very important. Make outhouses go away."

But not at Burning Man. Legions of porta potties were down every avenue, complete with washing stations for hands.

Elena got off my lap and climbed into the truck. Katerina caught me eyeing the bare behind of her sister and said, "You are bad. That is for later." Her smile was wide.

I crooked my finger and she assumed Elena's position on my lap. Her breast was equally lickable. Her lips were warm and her tongue found mine. I said, "Better."

Elena was back, hitching her chair closer and opening a book on her knees.

"Pay attention. That is special boob. Is not going away." 

I asked if they were twins, even though they did not look much alike. "Yes, what is word... We are fraternal twins, two eggs."

Yesterday, over way too much vodka punch, they had told me the story of being sent from Russia to their uncle Ivan in Brooklyn when they finished elementary school. Their mother, a divorced mathematics professor, told them there was no future for academics in Omsk, and they should study hard in America and make careers there. 

Even though there was a large Russian community, where they could speak their native language, Ivan was firm that in America, one speaks English, and made them struggle through language lessons from the first days of their arrival.

They were very smart, and did well in school. Ivan sent each report card back home to Svetlana, who wrote long letters about scholarship, and respect for learning. They got into City University of New York on the special program for gifted students. Ivan and Momma had letters back and forth about their majors. And also about boys.

At CUNY, during the day, Elena and Katarina enjoyed the openness and casual friendship of other students. At night, to their way of thinking, there was entirely too much old fashioned Russian discipline. Ivan could not be avoided as long as they were under his roof, so they toed the line, day after restless day. At night, cuddled in one of their two beds, they whispered about how to gain their freedom.

In the very first semester at college, they made the Dean's list, to great joy at home and among their family friends. Unlike some of the immigrant Russians, especially the ones living a life of petty crime, or worse, being part of the mafia, the girls wanted success the hard way.

In their senior year, a friend said they should look at the library science program because there seemed to be plenty of jobs for junior librarians. The degree took an extra year, but Ivan was enthusiastic. They could find jobs at libraries in New York City and live with him. 

They were very lucky that an attractive older Russian woman met Ivan at a community dance and started going out with him. Ivan became a foolish middle aged man in love. The girls arranged to meet the new lady at a coffee shop and explained their need to be on their own. If she was going to live with Ivan, would she please demand that the nieces from Omsk had to move out? With hugs and kisses, she joined their plot. A week later, on Sunday morning, Marina and Ivan came downstairs for breakfast and announced they were getting married. Very apologetically, Ivan said that it would be too crowded in the apartment for four adults after the marriage, and looked at them sadly. With fake sniffles, they embraced him and Marina and wished them a happy life together and said they would begin looking for their own apartment immediately.

His memory of the rest of the story he heard yesterday was dim, probably because they had drunk him under the proverbial table with their potent punch. He did remember a lot of kissing and a lot of groping, and thought he might even have had sex with them on a big mattress inside the box truck. They seemed very comfortable being naked in his arms this morning.

Elena was pointing at a picture in the book, which turned out to be a history of the Ottomans. "Look, you will be our Pasha. Pasha on the Playa with his women." They giggled.

He tried to move Katarina so he could read the book, but he was hard again and she was holding him tightly. He kissed her and said, "No Pasha if you don't let me read."

She laughed and jumped from his lap. "You read. We dress and go for bike ride on playa."

Plumbers don't get whole weeks off for naked arts festivals, so I had finally ducked out of work and dashed for Gerlach on Wednesday morning. It was now Thursday, if my hungover brain was working, and I was late to the party. With the dust and the heat, I wondered if it was really necessary to be a crazy person for a whole week.

The librarians were back, with feathered headdresses, and skimpy bikini outfits made of fake animal fur. Very strange and exotic. They examined me and declared that I would wear a black speedo and nothing else except dark glasses. I didn't have a black speedo, but they did. With a lot of unnecessary playing with my penis, I was settled into the suit and told to get my bike. Before we went anywhere, they slathered on a lot of lotion and declared we were safe from skin cancer. I wondered.

They showed me the way down six o'clock avenue to Center Camp, where there were unclothed females, and males also, in great profusion. I asked, "This is really just a nudist colony?"

"Pasha is to be quiet. We will explain later."

Before us, in the inner semicircle of the camp, were acres and acres of open desert, flat as could be, dotted with strange and weird things. Straight ahead was a giant statue, which I knew had to be the Man. The Burning Man statue, who would burn on Saturday night. An avenue full of walking and biking Burners lead out to the Man, and in the distance beyond him was another structure.

"Is Temple. We go there." 

We had to stop every minute or so for explanations. The playa was where all the art was. Small to large, with incredible variety. Elena said, "Some art takes whole year and many hours to construct. Comes from all over world. Simple librarians impressed." She smiled at me. I worked my bike up to her and placed my arm around her waist. I leaned over and whispered, "Simple librarian is doing a New York number on dumb plumber. You have advanced degrees from CUNY, and that accent did not get you there." 

She said to her sister in a standard Brooklyn dialect, "Katerina, he has found us out. I think game is up."

Katarina looked at me boldly, "Plumber, don't play dumb either. After tour, we will go back to the truck and talk. For now, be good." To emphasize the point, she flipped her hips at me.

The Temple was very interesting. A giant wood structure, almost filigree in places, built in a week, that would burn on Sunday night in memory of all the Burners who had died since last year. It was filled with mostly silent people, who seemed to be treating it as a church, whether they had clothes on or not. The rumbling throb of the giant speakers back in the camp was muted. The Russians were standing over their bikes, their hands on my shoulders.

"Do you go to church, plumber?"

"Maybe I have been too dumb to tell you my name is Marty? And no, I don't go to church."

Their hands were soft and calming. "Marty is nice name. We will call you Marty when you make love to us, but on playa, you are Plumber."

I had been captured, I realized. Their sneaky plan was to come to Burning Man, all the way from Brooklyn, planning on finding guys they could have fun with. How come it was Thursday and they only had me cornered so far? What was their Pasha game anyway?

It took another hour of biking to see the sights and make our way back to the truck for lunch. The midday sun was cooking us. Katarina started a generator on the ground next to the truck while Elena and I went inside to fix sandwiches. In a few minutes, a portable air conditioner was going, and Katarina closed a transparent curtain across the end of the truck as she climbed in. There was a stack of body wipes, of which many were used to clean only some of the dust from us. I sat in a canvas camp chair and was amazed that two immigrant librarians had pulled this all off. A small table appeared next to me, with an imported beer and a sourdough ham sandwich. Carrots and other raw vegies were there also.

"All right. What's going on? You are feeding me before the slaughter?"

Elena was giggling and Katarina was looking stern. "Plumber, did you read about how one becomes Pasha? Loyal service to the Emperor..."

"Yes, but the last Ottomans were overthrown almost a hundred years ago."

"For Burning Man, we make revisionist history. Like Tsars used to do. We have name and biography for you. Also harem. After lunch, we fix cushions for Pasha and you do your reading. Otherwise, punishment." Her eyes glittered and the voice was back to the heavy accent.

They were both looking at me very seriously in the dim light filtered in from the end of the truck. I was admiring the obvious charms of my new companions and wondering if the Pasha got to tell them to undress. Maybe I should get into this new role. Everyone at Burning Man seemed to be projecting a new personality, why not me?

In a few minutes, I was on marvelously soft cushions, with a female on either side, another cold beer, and the Ottoman book in my lap. They had opened it to a biography of someone named Alexander, who was greatly beloved, and known as Alexander Pasha. It seemed he was an expatriate Russian who infiltrated the Emperor's staff and made himself very useful. 

I was trying to read and losing a battle with nap time. Fortunately, the librarians were losing the same battle and we slept.

I woke to the cool air of the portable machine on us, and my arm pulling one of the women tight to my front. She wiggled herself against my hard cock and whispered, "You want sex now?" I pulled her over and found full, soft lips for a kiss. "I always want sex, but maybe not right now."

"Is ok. Book says Pasha demands sex from harem all the time." They were half lying on me, both kissing and stroking me to distraction. "What does book say about beating disobedient women?"

"Censored. It says certain practices in harem can not be described in book."

They had their bras off and were lying back on the cushions, laughing at me. 

I sniffed, "Certain practices, eh? I'll bet those horny old bastards couldn't get it up."

I had a sudden thought. "Do you have boyfriends at home? I shouldn't be chasing you if you do."

Katarina rolled on her side away from me, keeping my hand around her breast. "Is either short story, or long story. Anyway, Russian girls not having any luck finding right men."

I leaned down and chewed on her fat nipple. She caught her breath and said, "Bad."

It was worth a try. "I guess I will have to show you how Plumber from California romances new girlfriends from Brooklyn. Ok?"

She spread herself open, grinning at me, "Plumber first, then Pasha?" The voice was pure Brooklyn. The boy shorts were tight, outlining a lot of anatomy.

I looked from one to the other, and kissed them gently. My latest girlfriend at home had decided, like the others, that being married to a plumber was not for her. I was horny and the Russians had already offered themselves. I could have them, here on the playa, and not think anything of it. A little voice said, be nice, be their Pasha.

"Tell me more about Pasha. Why is he here? Were you forced to be his concubines?"

"Sister, this one is strange. Not jumping us like other guys."

I went back to my camp chair. "There must be more to your story."

They put their bikini tops on and walked me to several big boxes in the front of the van. "Mutant vehicle in there. Already registered with Burning Man. We need help to assemble."

Two hours later, dripping with sweat from the merciless sun, the three of us stood looking at the ten foot tall Pashamobile. Gears and chains and big bicycle wheels everywhere. A very throne like seat surrounded by acres of exotic fabrics. Six feet off the ground, and wide enough for a very big potentate, or someone thinner with special friends. Lower down, seats made from bicycle parts that included pedals for propulsion. Obviously, persons of low rank were to sit on them and pedal as commanded. Close to the ground, in the middle, a large box that we had just filled with a dozen heavy batteries. Another box contained an electric motor connected to the rear axle by a sturdy looking chain. Maybe not too much pedaling required. Festooned here and there were decorations suggesting imperial power. Scarabs, alarming replicas of poisonous snakes, a miniature mosque with minaret.

It was explained to me that the librarians had called in chits from many cousins to get it built. And unbuilt, so it could be shipped and reassembled at Burning Man. There was still an empty space between the front wheels. "Special sound system with generator goes there. Maybe we take for test and do that tomorrow?

I said, "Let's wait, the real show is after the sun goes down and all the lighted vehicles are paraded. Don't we want to do that?"

"Marty, you are right. Fix us a drink so we have strength to make dinner. Special meal tonight."

"What are we celebrating?"

"Drink first, then quick shower, then talk."

They told me there was five hundred gallons of water in the truck, but one hundred was gone already. "You don't mind cozy shower?"

They were sliding soapy bodies on me again. I pulled their hair and said, "This is very suspicious. You are being too nice to dumb plumber."

The breeze had died so it wasn't moving dust. The sun was low and warm, not hot. The tall gin and tonics tasted divine. I had fresh, clean shorts on. They had clean shorts on too. A lot tighter than mine.

In the Brooklyn voice, they said, "Marty, you are derailing our plan. Guys in Brooklyn aren't nice like you. No one from home would work for hours in hot sun helping crazy women like us."

They advanced on me and each took a knee. The kisses started out gentle, but didn't stay that way. In a while, hands found the hard length of me still inside the shorts. "We want you. Do you want us? You said no before. There is something wrong?"

"You know about first date rules? No hands below waist?"

"Elena! We must fix this one!" They had a tight grip on my long hair, hustling me into the truck and down on the thick mattress in the front corner. Two hard knees were in my crotch, pinning me in place. They were skinning out of their clothes, such as they were, and talking in low emphatic voices in Russian. Katarina said something very firm, very tough sounding, and Elena shrank back, "Nyet! nyet."

My clothes were next. It was dim in the front corner, but the fading light gleaming on their bodies was magical. Elena lay on me, shielding my important parts from her sister. "Is it over for me?" I whispered in her ear.

"Yes. She says, no fucking, no living. You have insulted fine Russian women."

"Would it help if I stabbed you with this and you screamed?"

"Yes. Hurry!"

I was actually a little scared. These two were big and tough. I flipped Elena over and found my way inside in seconds. "There! Slut!" The response was electric. I'd never had sex with a woman swearing at me in multiple languages. She rolled on top and got heaved into the air. We rolled and fucked and shouted and had fantastic climaxes together. She gripped my ass with fingernails dug in and didn't relax until every last squirt of me was inside.

"Oh god, sis, he is good. You should have been first. You were more unhappy than I was."

I made little thrusting movements in her to stay hard while I thought about how to take care of Katarina. Elena loved it, squeezing and making small musical noises in her throat. Our tongues found each other and played. Sister was on her haunches, staring at us and undecided what she should do next. I quickly disengaged and pulled her into my lap. I placed Elena's hand on one hard globe, and my own on the other. I nodded at her and she slapped it. I slapped the other side. My free hand was pressing hard in the small of Katarina's back to hold her in place. 

"You are in Tsarist court and have been sentenced to ten years hard labor in Black Rock Gulag, picking up gum wrappers."

"Nyet! I am Princess, first cousin to His Majesty."

"You are faker. Think we cannot tell from hard ass? No Princess has muscles like that."

While her mind was diverted, I flipped her over and plunged. She was wet and he made it fully inside the first time.

"Bastard! I will beat you if you stop!" The voice was Brooklyn and needy. I knew needy and worked on her. Elena laughed and pinched her sister's nipples. She screamed, I came too, and we fell over.




Pasha on the Playa Pt. 01



In a few minutes, Katarina said, "Marty, if you try that on us again, we really will murder you."

"How was I supposed to know you are such good fucks? Why didn't you tell me Brooklyn girls are the best?"

They climbed down from the truck and cleaned up with the shower head on a long hose. I was summoned over and cleaned too. 

"You made a big mess in there. At home, we make guys use condoms. But we got the shot before leaving. You are first bareback rider!"

They giggled and beat on me and acted like loving with the plumber was good. We worked on the stir fry with gulf prawns and halibut. They were quiet, but nudging me with their hips, and pulling my hair when they went by. They asked, "Wine or beer with dinner?"

I told them I liked beer with hot food, and we had three Chinese beers. I found a clean shirt and long pants in my dusty tent, and dressed for dinner. They came back from the truck in flowered wrap outfits that I didn't imagine had anything under. They got hugs and kisses so I could check that out. 

I asked, "Do we know how to work lights on the vehicle?"

"We had demonstation at home, but system needs testing. Better do that before it gets any darker."

Someone had done a nice job with the lights. Everything in LED's and lasers. Lot of color. A twelve inch square panel with many switches. Elena explained. "Along this side are on and off switches. On the other side are programs. We've never seen all of them work."

The steering was up at the throne, and guess who got to steer. In the dark, this might be exciting. A large cardboard box was handed down, and our second costumes were unwrapped. There was an amazing creation for Pasha's head. It needed the strap to keep it on. There were small wires running down the back. Katarina said there was a socket at the throne where I would be plugged in.

I made an imperial decision that the Pasha needed his women next to him tonight, not down on the bike seats.They said the batteries would be good for two hours, even with the lights flashing. We cleared a path in front of the vehicle and clambered up. The electric system was simple, a go switch, an accelerator pedal like a regular car, and an emergency kill switch. There was an illuminated guage which showed minutes of battery left. Right now it said 120.

Elena pushed several switches and a whole lot of things lit up. I turned the on switch and pressed the accelerator. With a low hum, we were off. What a kick, until I realized we were about to enter six o'clock avenue and a lot of traffic and a zillion bikes with riders draped in laser light strings. Pay attention, Pasha!

It was incredible fun, even at five miles an hour. The brakes were good, but too much brake and the whole damn thing was going over. Pay attention, Pasha. The women were impressed with their cousins' handiwork. Even six feet in the air provided a great view. We made our way slowly to the open playa and joined the nightly parade of wild and weird contraptions, all of them with creative lighting. The sun was down, the twilight fading, and the sound systems getting louder and louder. 

The women used their thickest accents to say, "Pasha has best vehicle. Pasha's women happy." They got a nice kiss for that. Several bikers narrowly avoided running into us. I realized we weren't anywhere as maneuverable as they were, and stopped worrying about collisions. It was not a night for worrying. Pasha had his women, and all the colorful sights of the playa, and all the throbbing music anyone could want. I turned out of the parade, steered to a dark area and stopped. We switched the lights down to two circuits and relaxed. The battery guage said 94 minutes.

I wondered if there was anywhere else in the world a guy could sit in the middle of a desert fantasyland, with hot women, and just soak it all in. The illuminated statue of the Man dominated everything. Their heads rested on my shoulders, and if it hadn't been for the assault on our bodies by the music, we would have been asleep.

Elena said, "We are supposed to stay up all night. Dancing. Drinking. Smoking."

Katarina lay across my lap, pressed her sister's hand, and laughed. "When is the last time the librarians stayed up all night?"

Elena kissed her sister and kissed me. "Marty, unless you are a night owl, would you take us back and crawl in with Russian girls and hold us tight?"

Night navigation was an art. The lights made things look very different. It was a long, slow trip back to the truck, but no one minded. Thousands of bodies milling around, almost everyone decorated with lights. Some girls with bare tits wrapped with circular strings of colored light. Pasha's women did not have bare tits and they did not have lights wrapped around them. They did have strings running up and down their arms with animations going back and forth.

We eased up to the truck and shut everything down. The battery gauge was at 74 minutes. We could recharge in the morning.

The refrigerator yielded three sodas and we stood in the dark, leaning on each other, still taking it all in. Stars silhouetted hilltops encircling the flat playa. 

I whispered to them, "This is a strange, romantic place. Not like Brooklyn."

"Yes. And we found Plumber! Now we can be happy!"

They revealed their special jug for avoiding night trips to the porta potty, and told me to go first and not to miss. I asked if they needed help and got threatened.

It was plenty cool enough to snuggle. After a few minutes, I asked, "How did you decide dumb plumber would make good friend at Burning Man?"

They sighed, and Elena said, "You are big. Russian girls like big."

Katarina said, "You are strong. Russian girls like strong."

"You have good vocabulary. Librarians like cultured guys."

"You are handsome and nice to strangers. Did not just try to hit on us."

"Did I have sex with you last night?"

"If you can't remember, is terrible insult and we are not telling."

"Why would you have anything to do with drunk plumber?"

"In Russia, guys drunk all the time. Women learn to live with it."

"Tonight, we are cold and sober! Terrible!"

They giggled and poked me and we slept.

It was light. No bodies next to me, but interesting noises at stove, which was making its roaring sound. I turned over and felt strange. Missed warm bodies.

Elena had some kind of thin robe on. Wasn't hiding much. Had coffee and juice for me. "It's nice out there. No wind."

"I can't move until I get a kiss."

I carefully leaned for the kiss and continued to wrap myself around her, melting us into the mattress and pressing my knee far between her legs.

"You are bad. I will get in trouble with Katarina. She will think I started this."

"Kiss me again and I will go out and grab her too."

Katarina saw me coming and said in her best Brooklyn voice, "Keep your distance, cowboy, I'm armed."

I hugged her from the back and said, "It's special, having a Russian girlfriend, isn't it?" I nuzzled her neck and she said, "You are going to make me wreck the eggs. Of course, Russian girlfriends are special. Plumbers always get excited by Russian girls." Elena had my hair and they both were laughing hard.

"What if plumber doesn't want to give up his special girls at end of Burning Man?"

They stared at me and said, "That is too serious before breakfast. Maybe even before lunch."

They asked about my eggs and I said, "Soft scrambled with sausage."

They looked at me and replied, "This one is not from Brooklyn. Gooey eggs?"

I nodded. Soon, wonderful soft eggs on warm plate with sausage and whole wheat toast was delivered. The coffee was very hot and very black.

A few minutes later, I said, "Plumber will do almost anything after breakfast like that. May I clean up?"

More strange looks. "Russian guys do not clean in kitchen. Better you work on sound system. Three big boxes in truck."

This was a big deal. Four giant thirty pound speakers. Brand new 7500 watt super quiet generator. Impressive looking amplifiers in enclosures with fans and filters. Several pages of instructions.

The wiring harness was color coded. The speakers had their own pedestals and tiedowns. The generator started on the first turn of the electric start. There was a CD player with space for ten discs. A remote control for use at the throne.

"Did your cousins demonstrate this at home?"

Smiles and laughs. "Almost destroyed neighborhood. Was out in front of Ivan's house. We put on dance music and had street party. Ivan handed out beer to be friendly."

"Can we test with level turned down? You know how to use remote?"

Katarina consulted the music sheet and loaded the discs. I started the generator. Amplifier lights glowed green. She pressed play and beautiful stereo sound came out. Ragtime piano. People stopped to listen.

They hugged me. I hugged them back. People clapped. We shut it down.

"Pasha, come and sit. There is special ceremony for later today."

They put a beer in my hand even though it was only eleven o'clock.

"Librarians decided Pasha should visit the Man and pay his Imperial respects."

All of a sudden, I wasn't so interested in the beer. This might involve work. Might get us in trouble with the Rangers.

"Tell me how does Pasha pay his respects?"

"We have script. You must follow it. Created after much reading of ancient texts."

"Is Pasha still alive after this is over?"

"Depends. If Man is satisfied, you will live."

Elena went on, "We must hurry, paying respects is exactly at noon."

The battery charger had been going since breakfast and its meter said the motor battery was fully charged. The women were bringing out more boxes and handing me tall standards with strange heraldic emblems on them. There were hollow pipes to receive them on the sides of the vehicle.

Next they began to dress Pasha in special imperial robes. Brilliant colors with lots of gold fabric and many glass jewels. I was going to be really really hot. My makeup was designed to make Pasha look fierce and imperial. They showed me a mirror and I did look like that. There was a sceptre topped by a hammered gold design I didn't recognise.

"We will dress and go soon." They climbed into the truck.

I was amazed when they came back. One with ground length robes and an ostrich headdress. The other in thigh length tunic with elaborate dog's headdress. My mistresses were Egyptian, not Ottoman. They were gods or goddesses. I tried to remember something of Egyptian history. My questions were deflected and I was told to ascend the throne and follow instructions. They stood on plywood platforms next to the bike pedestals. Elena had the sound remote and started the music as she waved us forward.

A low throbbing drumbeat began, kettle drums in a slow march tempo. The bass notes punched you in the gut. We moved forward through a gathering crowd to six o'clock avenue, where walkers, riders and vehicles parted for the imperial procession. I was steering and trying to make sense of the script. The music got louder and more instruments blared forth. Trumpet flourishes began, and loud instructions in Russian to make way for Pasha. At least that is what the script said.

By the time we reached Center Camp, the procession had picked up followers. The voice over commanded mortals to bow before Pasha and some even did so. The gods were arching their arms over the multitudes. Cries went up, "Anubis, Osiris!" The music was helping us float along the marked path to the Man. Dirge like martial music, fit for a Pasha arriving in the presence of the Man. The always transient but powerful Man.

We drew up before the giant structure and stopped, surrounded by hundreds of curious Burners. The music shifted to a lighter note, almost spiritual sounding. The gods descended to the playa and gestured me to join them.

We stepped forward, the gods a half step behind. Elena, the Anubis god, held the music remote, shifting to yet another melody. At the forward end of the path, with an enclosing fence running off on either side, we stopped and bowed. Drum rolls began and we got on our knees. A collective gasp went up from behind us. A female figure, covered in flowing gauze, with a jeweled tiara, moved toward us from beneath the Man. She was ten feet tall. Her legs attached to stilts were cleverly camouflaged with trouser fabric. 

Elena worked the remote again, and the tall goddess spoke out above the crowd in Russian. The gods with me bowed to the dirt and Pasha did the same, holding on tightly to the headdress.

The voice was now in accented English. "Rise. The handmaiden of the Man welcomes you. Alexander Pasha, you grace our royal presence. Your imperial carriage impresses us. Be at peace with our desert world. Remind us of the ancients and their world now vanished."

The handmaiden's arms reached out over us to the crowd and the music began a triumphal tune, such as royals had always inspired. Two acolytes appeared and the stilt lady magically jumped into their arms from the stilts. She approached and my women embraced her. 

I stared, dumbstruck by the whole performance. There was loud applause in the background. The handmaiden goddess shed her gauze to reveal a simple tunic in white. 

She beckoned me, and the women said, "Pasha, this is Svetlana, our Mother. She has come from Russia for Burning Man."

The professor was amazingly strong. I was crushed in her grip. The accented voice said in my ear, "My girls like you, Marty." Her kiss was tender at first but hard and passionate as it went on. Cheering broke out.

I said, "Mom, the script is breaking down. Are you going back on the vehicle with us?"

"I will ride with you. The crowd will think Pasha has taken a new wife."

We ascended to the throne and carefully turned the vehicle around. The music changed to a spritely tune and we moved off to more applause.

Katarina, the god of the Underworld, said, in her Brooklyn voice, "Mom, don't get too cozy with Marty, he is ours. You are only his wife in the script."

Svetlana had my hand and said, "You are not going to marry these over-educated heathens, are you?"

I responded, "Your daughters take after their mother. Smart, beautiful, tough minded. They got to me first. If you hit on me, I will get death threats."

"When we get to the truck, I will deal with them. I hope there is food. I rode the early bus this morning and haven't eaten."

"You are going to tell me the whole story of this incredible little opera?"

"Yes. Did you like it?"

"I loved it, but was scared the whole time. Plumbers are not used to this treatment."

She laughed. "You are cute. They had no idea if they could find a suitable Pasha. Certainly no one in Brooklyn would do."

She leaned over, "If I beat the girls until they agree, will you sleep with me? They say you are a great lover."

"Sister, she is stealing him and we aren't even back to the truck!"

Fortunately, we arrived at that moment. The heavy clothes went in the boxes and the girls said there was enough water for a quick shower. Svetlana watched the close encounter and decided she wanted that too. We soaped her and fondled her fifty year old boobs, which were very firm. Her hand reached for me, but Katarina said, "That is not allowed."

Which only resulted in a tight clinch with my cock riding between her legs.

"Elena, why didn't we think of this problem before. Now he has three girlfriends."

Katarina whispered in her mother's ear while fixing lunch. They insisted the four of us stay naked in the bright sun for our meal. After sips from a tequila sunrise, which seemed very popular with Russian women, I grabbed the sunscreen and went to work. Svetlana had the place of honor between her daughters, and I loved the chance to slowly slide my slippery fingers across the top of her shoulders, down her chest and completely around her breasts, paying special attention to large nipples which lengthened and stiffened under my touch. 

"Ooh, he is very bad. You let him rub your body anywhere?"

"Mama, he is tender and loving. Not like big lunkheads at home!"

Elena smiled at me, and giggled. I moved to her front and applied equal treatment. She squirmed and I dealt more harshly with her boobs. "Svetlana, this one is special. She showed me the book and taught me about how to be Pasha." I leaned down for a very hot kiss.

Mama asked, "She gets kiss and I don't?"

I moved back and had a long torrid kiss with the mother, who had my hair in her hands, twisting my head back and forth. I whispered in her ear, "You are going to attack me in bed? Do Russian women hit on their men?"

She stood and dragged me to the truck. Soon, four naked bodies were wrestling and giggling and using hands in private places. The girls got mama down, and held her legs in the air so that everything was offered to Pasha, who held nothing back and plunged his big, hard cock straight in.

The wail was long and hard. "Oooooh. He is a devil..."

I concentrated on giving her special loving, the kind she would get in Constantinople, from a proper Pasha. Long hard thrusts, with gutteral noises of command and dominance.

"You Russian women come to the Ottoman palace and expect mercy? What a foolish thought! You are now my concubine! A harem woman to enjoy."

Katarina joined the fun by chewing on a fat maternal nipple and whispering in Russian. The strong thick body shuddered with an orgasm. I stopped being the bad guy and kissed her softly. "I've never had hot sex with a professor before. You are great lover, mama."

We flipped over and she lay on me, breathing heavily. "You are good for nothing badass fucker, Marty. I love you."

Things got soft and lovey after that, except the girls kept me on my back so they could ride my big cock and get themselves off. Svetlana watched me going in and out of the beautiful young bodies and nibbled on my fingers. She kissed my cheek and said, "That big thing fixes three women at once?"

Katarina closed in the curtain, turned on the a/c, and we all had a nap.

Fingers stroking my limp organ woke me. The young ones were working on their mother, who was working on me. I had a suspicion the professor was not getting enough sex at home. One daughter was entertaining her tits, and the other had fingers in her pussy. I provided lip play and got hard again.

"Besides sex, what are Pasha and his women going to do?"

"Tonight, Mama must go in parade with us. Maybe tomorrow morning, we go for bike ride all over the city."

Svertlana pushed her daughters out of the way and sat on my hips, crushing my important part underneath.

"You and I will talk. Daughters will bring drinks."

I pulled her down and tucked her head into my shoulder. "You have two wonderful daughters. Why did you wait so long to come to America?"

"Marty, it is like they said. You are instant friend and lover. With your arms around me, I am safe in this wild west desert."

She went on, "Is hard story about Svetlana and America. I was silly for many years, even after perestroika. What if we start from me being here with you?" She snuggled tighter. The drinks arrived, along with two women looking lonely.

"She has totally stolen him. There is nothing left for us."

"Come here, useless ones, or I will beat your tough behinds. Sit next to us and behave. Your mama is trying to have a serious conversation." I pulled their heads in for kisses.

We all got in a circle and mother talked about not wanting to go back to Omsk. "Is bad. Not like Soviets, but new leaders corrupt and do not care about education away from Moscow. Is it possible for me to teach in America?"

I pulled one of the twins into my lap and tickled her. "Librarian, tell mother about jobs for academics." Elena tried to sit up but I held her down, nibbling on the back of her neck and fondling one of the fine boobs.




Pasha on the Playa Pt. 01



"Stop! How can I talk when you torture me?" I turned her over and licked the flesh mounded up at me. 

"Mama, Marty says he doesn't want to let the librarians go when this is over. Says plumbers can work anywhere and he will go where we go. What if we invent resume for you? Technical services librarian, specialty in mathematics. Adjunct professor of Russian studies. Tutor in Russian language for advanced students?"

Katarina had an idea too. "There is Tahoe-Baikal Institute, with graduate exchange students working on environmental problems. Not far from here. Didn't you go to Baikal when you were younger?"

Mama arranged herself between my legs with her head on my thigh. The librarians were arranged on her ample chest. I discovered Russian women hummed when they were happy, like American girls.

"Marty, is true you want to keep house with three Russian women? Can be terrible fights."

"I love fights. The librarians already know that fights with me end up with great sex."

Katarina rolled over and said, "When you have climax on that big cock, all the fight goes out of you. He kisses you and hugs you and next thing it is morning."

Svetlana wasn't convinced. "But Marty, why us? The girls tell me you met them three days ago."

I put my shorts on and sat in one of the camp chairs. "Why not you? Smart, beautiful, educated, loving, tough, organized, creative..."

They were beating on me, their tits bouncing wildly. "Stop, stop. Not permitted to be that nice to us."

I gestured to Svetlana to sit on my knee. "You know what really turns me on? Russian women like plumbers!"

Another small riot. The twins whispered to me that they were ok with mother around. Just please remember they were needy too?

Something had to be done about all the energy inside the truck, so we went for an immediate bike ride, criss crossing the avenues and streets. It was cooling down and the camp was coming alive. Some people were still concentrating on how little they could wear, while others were in every imaginable wild costume. There were many couples, and lots of same sex partners. I explained to Svetlana that Burning Man was a place where you could let loose all your inhibitions and enjoy life with friends, including a lot of loving. 

"Plumbers believe in lots of loving?" Her eyes danced at me.

"Only with beautful mathematicians from Omsk."

She peddled away, the twins laughing behind her.

Back at the truck, the girls and I cleaned up the vehicle and got it connected to the charger. Svetlana made drinks and foraged for dinner ingredients. The big standards got rolled back up. Elena checked for nightime music on the remote, which would be hard to see in the dark. They asked if we could adjust the throne so the four of us could be together. "Librarans do not wish to be demoted to level of serfs!" I found tools in the truck and did some metal bending. Presto, a seat for four. 

I sat in my outdoor chair, bare feet in the dust, eyes shaded from the low sun, and relaxed with a Russian made margarita, which tasted great. I didn't even complain when it was announced that plumber had the duty to assemble the grill and do the steaks. I reflected that I was ten years older than the twins, and fifteen years younger than their mother. The loving was fine in both directions.

I made a point of having Svetlana catch me staring at her every time she glanced in my direction. After a while, she couldn't take it and came to rest on my knee with a warm kiss. "Marty, you are staring all the time and making me nervous."

I wrapped my arms around her and nuzzled her ear and licked her neck. "Oh, that is going through me." She wiggled her butt. 

I whispered, "You need a little extra loving, don't you? A special welcome to America."

She pounded gently on my shoulders and back."You are making silly mathematician cry."

I gave her over to the twins so I could watch the meat. There was a long family hug.

The daughters carried on with dinner and let their teary mother sit next to me. She held my hand. I thought about growing up in Omsk in Soviet days. Tough times, especially for a female with smarts in math.

I brightened up and asked, "Are you thinking of staying out west? I can take you to lots of fun places. All kinds of recreation. All kinds of ways to lose money in casinos. Colleges and universities to look for work."

The twins charmed the hell out of me when they said, "We have to discuss with Mama. She is head of family. Ok with us to leave Brooklyn if she agrees."

I told them to take a walk together while I cleaned up. They grabbed a sweater and left, chattering in Russian.

Tomorrow was Saturday, the biggest day of Burning Man week. I sat with my laptop and looked at the map of the theme camps and other sites to see.

I checked over the Pashamobile again. Battery charged. Generator for music had full tank. The electric start was handy. One push and instant power.

The threee of them surrounded me and said, "Marty, Svetlana thinks wild west adventure with plumber is great idea. So do we. You will look after Russian women?"

"Let's go for a ride and talk."

Elena had something light and bouncy going as we rocked ourselves down six o'clock avenue again. Some people along the way waved and shouted, "Hail, Pasha."

Katarina answered in Russian and they looked impressed. I said, "Librarians not worried that Pasha is Turk?"

"Yes, but originally Russian. From Crimea. Survived war."

"So librarians and Mama are going to survive in American west? Very tough place. Still skeletons in desert."

"Plumber will keep us safe. Plumbers always know where to find water." They giggled and kissed me.

"The snow is very deep in the passes in winter. Do you ski?"

"Librarians go to Poconos with Uncle Ivan one time. Big bus full of Jews having party. Put on skis. Fell down hill. Only went back up hill once. Cold and wet."

"I will teach you to run. Useful when bear is chasing. After hard run, you have to sit in bathtub with ice cubes to fix muscles." I tickled them and they screamed no one was putting their bottoms in ice cubes.

Mama had to remind me to steer. I moved and put her in driver's seat. Put librarians to work on lights and music as we joined parade.

Svetlana said, "This is incredible. Crazy machines, crazy lights, crazy sound."

In the distance, there was a bright flash of flaming propane. I told Mama to point us in that direction. As we got closer, we could see long arms with jets of flame shooting out every few seconds. I told them, "That is Pulpo Mechanico. Very famous." There was a large crowd around the base of the gigantic machine, silhouetted in the flames and shouting. The octopus moved slowly forward, bringing light and flame to the playa. Enormous amounts of propane were burning. The plumber in me admired what must be incredible piping and control valves inside.

We turned and followed the parade far across the playa. We drove out into the desert, so we could shut down and watch everything from our perch. The battery said we still had an hour.

Mama and I each got a daughter in our laps and everyone hugged. I said, "You are serious about throwing in with me?"

Svetlana said, "Yes, but we are worried about you. Daughters tell me your girlfriend left. Now you have not one but three girlfriends. That is ok?"

I kissed her as softly as I could, against the pulsing music blasting out from camp, and said, "I think you are very special. In America, young people call it hooking up. The three of us are hooked up?"

The girls sat up and cheered. "Plumber, you are funny. Yes, we are hooked up."

Mama kissed me and said, "Hooked up. Yes." I laughed and asked, "You will have to teach me Russian for hooked up. The version about connected in bed."

Mama pulled my hair and said, "Very naughty. Babushka would chase you out of house."

Elena said, "Marty, are we staying up all night? Are we smoking pot?"

I pulled her across me and beat a tattoo on her behind. My hand went between her legs and rubbed on the plump bottom. "When I was in the Marines, I had to stand night watches. I'm glad I don't do that anymore."

Svetlana had her arm around my neck. "You were a soldier?"

"Yes, for four years. In Iraq."

"Not good time."

"No. Not at all. Sad to see people killing each other over religion."

"We will not talk about it."

"Thank you."

The Pashamobile made its way, very slowly, through masses of lighted people and out to our camp and truck. We hung on each other and definitely were not staying up all night.

The twins made a nest on the mattress in the truck, and we sat in a circle with ice cream and berries.

"Librarians, have you found a place for four people to live well and have good jobs?"

"Plumber, we can get jobs, but maybe not so great jobs. Just jobs to bring home a paycheck. What do you think, can we start our own business and not starve?"

I gave my bowl to Elena and backed myself up against the wall of the truck. Then dragged Mama up between my legs and wrapped us tightly in one of the summer blankets. I kissed the back of her neck and she wrapped my hands around her front.

She asked, "What is plumber doing? Is very nice in your lap."

"I am thinking. Thinking about a business that does not let us starve like the Donner Party."

Katarina said, "Yes, librarians read that story. Sad. Those people were not very smart."

"Yes. Mama should know that going with plumber means she will not starve." I kissed her neck again and she rubbed my hands on her boobs. The twins laughed and lay next to us. Elena asked, "If we add up all the money, how much is there?"

I said, "If I paid all my bills, there would be about fifty thousand left."

The librarians added up some numbers and said, "For both of us, maybe one hundred thousand."

Mama said, "For Svetlana, nothing. Russia maybe lets my pension come to U.S., but only five hundred dollars a month."

I said, "Truly sad. Sounds like back to potato soup and vodka."

Elena said, "Mama, we already told him that drunk Russian guys don't get any sex. At least in our family!" All three of them laughed, and I pinched a Mama nipple.

I said, "In the Sierra, the mines and the forests have given out. What is left is tourists and recreation and some computer businesses. And gambling, which is dying."

They looked at me, waiting for more.

"But these people and their fancy second homes need services. We know services. Plumbing, books, work that needs math, research for businesses..."

"Marty, we have to stop calling you just plumber. You are a very smart man."

Mama turned and kissed me. "Yes, he is smart man. And great lover, do not forget. Hard to find. I know!"

The girls laughed and poked their mom. "Great lover, but we have to share!"

"Marty, do you have a house, a regular job?"

"If I tell the truth, Mama will never let me marry you."

Mama's hands came back and tried to grab my hair. "I have been renting cheap cottages. And working for plumbing companies as an extra hand. Gives me freedom, but not good life for women. I have idea, if you want to hear."

Svetlana got up, turned around, and sat on me.

"A friend has some land near Truckee that is subdivided and is not far from utilities. He wants fifty thousand for ten acres. He will provide water and power to the lot. We can buy a prefabricated log cabin kit and put it up by ourselves. I have pictures. We can get part time jobs while we are making a house, and thinking about a business. Does this sound like something three Russian ladies would be interested in?"

All three of them were sitting on me now, peering down with inscrutable gazes, just like women do in novels.

"Mama, not much worse than Russia. Not so crowded as Brooklyn."

Mama said good idea to sleep on. We did.

The body next to me said in the night that it was cold and snuggled closer. It was Katarina, which I could tell because she had the smallest boobs. The tips were cold and I got up to pee and find another blanket. Soon everyone was peeing. Katarina got back in the same place, but had to have a kiss. A very long kiss, with her hand between my legs. A voice from behind said, "No kissing, no loving in dark."

This energized Katarina, who turned on her back and pulled me into missionary position. She got my hard cock out of my briefs in inserted him in the right place. Then she started talking to me in Russian, interrupted frequently by moans. Mama said in my ear, "Daughter is very bad. Not supposed to do that now."

My partner misjudged her little game. Her body decided this was a real fuck and it wanted hard and fast loving. A new tone crept into her voice and the Russian was replaced by English. "Marty, please more. I'm going to cum. Oh, lover." And she dissolved in shaking and twisting and coming.

Elena was leaning over us. "Sister, that was terrible tease. Mama and I are all hot and wet. Marty has to fix us too."

I did. All three of them were talking rapid fire Russian in between all their moans and coming noises. I lasted through it. After all the sex today, there wasn't much left, but Mama got it, all of it. And cried and howled at me.

I wasn't feeling very alpha male in the morning, even after a coffee delivery. Svetlana sat next to me and said, "That was very good, in the night. You treat us Russian women well. Not sure why." She slapped my rear affectionately. I kissed her ear affectionately. "Impossible not to like Russian women."

We wrestled around for a while, trading insults. She sat up and asked, "You are serious about us helping build new house and living in it with you?"

"Very. You and the twins know about living close to the land."

"Yes. My great, great grandparents were serfs. Starved half the time. No plumbing, no electricity."

The others climbed into the truck, sipping coffee and offering pieces of pastry. They had on boy shorts and sports bras. "Marty, what about a run?"

I glared at them, "Mama says you were very bad in the night. Must be punished. She will supervise. Over my knees. Right now."

"Oh please, plumber, no beating!"

Elena was first. I slipped the shorts down and exposed her pretty bottom to Svetlana and myself.

My hands started slow and gentle. Every few slaps, I stopped and rubbed between her legs, which gave me a wet hand. The slaps got harder and faster, and her hips started moving. My finger found her clit and rubbed there. Mama caressed the back and pulled the bra free from the firm tits. In one more minute, she pinched a nipple very hard and the body in my lap screamed and shuddered through a nice orgasm. A good way to start the day, I thought, especially since they had emptied me so thoroughly last night.

Katarina had been watching and had wide eyes that looked fearful. She is wondering which is worse, the sore behind or the wild climax, I thought.

Her globes had more muscle than Elena's, and no give in them as my hands came down. Her tits were smaller and Mama treated them badly, squeezing and poking. She was very wet from watching her sister get punished. The orgasm scream came quickly. Her behind was hardly red.

I pulled them in close and whispered, "You are bad and sexy and I love you both."

"Oh, Plumber, what are we going to do with you? When we try to be mad, you put your fingers in naughty places and make us come." The kisses went on.

I asked, "Mama, do you run with us?"

"When I was a girl, I ran with the boys everyday. But not for long time now. I suppose they will make you beat me if I do not run?"

"Mama, good for heart, good for strength in legs, good for everything." They laughed at their mother getting into her shorts and ordinary top. "We will find proper bra for you. They will bounce too much in that. Marty will attack you." More laughing. 

Saturday is a special day at Burning Man. From sunup to sundown, everyone is anticipating the incineration of the giant statue. Crowds walk out and around the wooden creation. Mystics in loincloths and headbands sit out in the dust, praying to the divine spirit of the Man, who will ascend to the heavens along with flames and ash in the evening. The less pious laugh about the world's biggest bonfire.

The run was good. Down side streets, there were endless sights in theme camps. At the foot of the avenues there were entertainment places. Skateboarding, large art pieces made for climbing, bands for listening, bands for dancing. 

I said, "Let's make some lunch and come here to the playa with the vehicle. You can drive wherever you like. Pasha will pretend his concubines have revolted and taken over."

At the truck, we took a quick shower to get the dust and sweat off. With a cold soda, we relaxed inside.

I said, "If the Russian women are serious, we have a big time problem with new house. Only two months to freezeup and maybe snow."

They sat on me and said, "We have revolution and are in control. You will tell us how to work hard and not freeze in the snow. We are not Donner Party."

I said, "We are all crazy, but fun crazy. Maybe we find used trailer for house site. Just in case."

Mama pulled my hair and repeated, "Just in case."

She looked at twins. "Plumber thinks ahead. Is good."

"Mama, you are spoiling him. Tough professor is supposed to tell him how dumb he is."

I had the tough professor between my legs again, doubled over from my tickling. She wrestled me around and gave me a hot kiss and said, "Marty, you are so much fun. When does the music stop?"

It was my turn to pull hair and get us going in the Pashamobile. It was fully charged, but I stopped and asked, "Why don't we bike now and then take dinner with us later and get a place in the circle of vehicles around the burn?"

It was a very lazy bike ride. Svetlana said, "Hard to think of freezing in snow out here." Katarina responded, "In the middle of January, with wind from Canada blowing dust into your eyes at ten below, not take long to freeze all the way through."

I shivered and laughed. "Russian women scare Plumber into working faster on log house!"

"Yes, and every night we fix hearty Russian dinner for our lover!"

Elena said, "Plumber may gag if we don't stop foolish talk."

Many camps were already being taken down. Tomorrow, many would line up for long, slow trek home, while others waited for Monday, after the burning of the Temple. 

I said, "I have an idea. Why don't we look up places along 395 where we can buy log houses. We can go there on way to Truckee. Can't drive fast with all the traffic anyway. We will take the back road from Gerlach."

The sexy librarians, wearing their running gear, noticed that most of the women we passed were topless. "Mama, ok if we take tops off? Work on tan lines?"

They laughed and Svetlana frowned. "Marty, at home these two would be over my knee for topless."

I leaned toward her and said, "Take yours off and show them that you appreciate art at Burning Man!"

She looked sharply at me, just as I was paying attention to an impressive naked chest bicycling by.

"Ok, Plumber, but mother of bad girls gets special loving tonight!"

Soon, I was surrounded by three marvelous topless Russian women. As we rode along, their magnificant assets were getting looks, but so was I.

Katarina said, "Mama, other men want to know how he rates three topless ladies."

"He is Plumber and he is building us a house!"

We all laughed loudly and rode until our legs were weary, ending up at the truck at four. I told the women to shower and relax on the soft mattress inside, I would bring drinks. 

Fruit juice and a little tequila knocked us right out. After a while, I was pushed onto my front and fingers played around with skin and muscles and tickling. I kept my eyes closed and thought about how hard I would work to provide for my new friends, who were smart and sexy and loving. Like Elena said, it was too too sappy.




Pasha on the Playa Pt. 01



I opened my eyes long enough to seize Svetlana and draw her close. "You are still ok with your new American boyfriend?"

"Docheri, he wants to know if retired professor still happy with him?" She sat on my behind and beat on my shoulders. The tough, chunky body spread itself out and her tongue explored, with teeth nipping here and there. Every so often, she drove her hips into me as though she was the male and I was the female. I started low moaning sounds and she pulled us on our sides.

"Marty," her voice was very soft, "what about loving I was promised?"

I pulled her in as tightly as I could, and concentrated on being very still. She was tense, wondering what was going on, but slowly let every muscle relax and licked my face. Katarina and Elena hovered and said, "That is nice loving. Very nice."

I sat against the truck wall and pulled Svetlana to her regular position between my legs. The twins lay back on her thighs and I said, "Have you decided about work?"

She played with the beautiful heads of hair under her arms and said, "Marty, you are many good ideas, but can not chase every one of them at once. You have to buy land, buy log cabin, get permits... Will keep us very busy for weeks, no?"

I smiled to myself and kissed the back of her neck. "With smart Russian women, will go fast!"

They giggled, I tickled, and we started packing the Pashamobile for the evening's celebration. Center Camp had lots of experience with burnings of the Man, and many Rangers would be out in force to keep things both joyful and safe. We trundled slowly down six o'clock avenue, with Elena playing martial music. The Pasha banners were in place, and I sat on the throne alone, waving at my thousands of subjects, who wildly waved and shouted. One pass along the foot of the camp and we were making our careful way into a great circling of the mutant vehicles, more than a hundred yards back from the statue of the Man. In front of us was space for rows and rows of people. Many were already in place, with cushions, low chairs and picnics. 

In the dark, we could dispense with costumes, and gathered with our food and drink on the high throne. Svetlana took a long drink from her beer and said, "Plumber, this is very exciting. Like nothing mathematics professor has ever seen." 

As the twilight deepened, the thousands of lights and thousands of watts of sound created a surreal atmosphere around us. A steady stream of people moved down the avenue to the great circle around the Man, taking places on the desert sand.

Elena reached for blankets and we huddled together in the evening chill. Mama pressed my hand to her breast and kissed my cheek. "Nice."

I reached my hands out to rub the necks of the twins and pull on their hair. Hands came at me and pulled my hair.

Around nine, when only a faint glow was left on the western skyline, the ceremony began. A large troupe of dancers performed with lighted torches. They were very skilled, tossing the blazing firebrands high in the air and capturing them on the way down. Children in the front rows, who had come early with their parents, stood and shouted with glee.

Finally, after an hour of dancing, little trails of smoke could be seen rising from the Man. Deep inside the structure, cleverly designed, licks of flame emerged. Minutes passed as little flames became bigger, and then bigger still. The roaring of the fire was beginning to drown out the camp sounds. In a few more minutes, fire was eating away at the Man to the level of his waist, forty feet in the air. More quickly, the inferno reached for the sky and eclipsed the entire height. Fireworks began shooting out from hands and head, bursting high above the playa with loud bangs.

It was an incredible spectacle and the women hugged me tightly in their excitement. For long minutes, the fire grew and grew, an immense conflagration in the middle of the desert night.

As the peak of the flames was reached, parts of the Man collapsed to the playa in magnificant crashes. The sentimental moment had found the audience. This Man was burnt, a legacy of transient dreams and hard effort. Another, months and months away, would rise in his place, as the cycle went on.

Svetlana kissed me wetly and said, "Marty, it is so sad. The fire takes everything."

I hugged her and said, "Yes, it does. Dust to dust, like all of us."

We pulled the twins to our laps, wrapped snugly, and watched the remains rest in a flaming pyre of embers, whose heat could be felt as far away as we were.

The great crowd made its way back towards camp in fits and starts, no one in a hurry. Nearly every body was a little show of its own, tiny laser lights flashing. It was almost half an hour before our vehicle could move. We sipped another beer, and ate the sandwiches the girls had made. We were not in a hurry, either. I shut down the sound system and its generator, letting the silent electric motor move us along at a walking pace. We followed a circuitous route, deciding not to compete with the throng of people at Center Camp and six o'clock avenue.

From the truck, we could see a steady stream of cars and vans leaving, their headlights lost in the vastness of the playa. I said, "Some people come just for the big show, and race away as soon as it is over."

Katarina said, "Some people are dumb."

We had a lantern going in the truck, and clustered together, still calming from the burn. Mama's naked in bed rule was relaxed because of the cool air. I added, "Plumber not chasing girls tonight anyway." Which only made my beauties put down their drinks and pound on me. I lay back and accepted many kisses and fell asleep.

cont'd in Part 2 - Mountain Living and Loving.



Pasha on the Playa Pt. 02



Sunday morning, after all the excitement last night as the Man burned, I woke in the dimness of the truck and was alone. Better than being blasted by the sun and the dust in my tent, I thought. That mess needed tending to.

A vision in tee shirt and running shorts was climbing the ladder, bringing coffee.

"Marty, you were useless last night. No talk and no action." Elena prodded me with a toe.

I sipped very hot and very black coffee. "Sit and tell me what is going on. What have the Russians decided for today?"

"We have been on the web and found log cabin place. You need to come and see." She leaned over and her tongue attacked me. My fingers found their way under the tee shirt.

"Nyet. No play until work is done." Her mouth descended on me, tongue first. She took the mug and put it safely to one side as she pushed me on my back and stretched her body totally into mine.

My hands were inside the shorts, kneading hard muscles. "What is this, if I can't play?"

The heavy accent was back. "I am teasing. You will obey orders, or no more fine Russian pussy!"

The body was over my shoulder and we were down the ladder in a flash and running in circles around the food table. Elena was shrieking and I was paddling her bottom and laughing wildly. I sat in one of the camp chairs and kissed her.

"Be careful how you tease Plumber. He can be violent!"

She straddled me and said to the others, "He is up." Mama was eating her fruit and smiling at us. Katarina's finger beckoned me. She sat before her laptop, which apparently had a net connection. Wifi at Burning Man was a sometimes thing. She pointed at the current page. It said, "Superior Log Cabin Company. Eagle Lakes Road." And a gallery of nice looking cabins.

"Where is that?"

"Near Susanville, off 395, like you said."

I crouched behind her, a knee in the sand, as she paged through the site. It was well done. You could buy anything from a bare log kit for $15,000, all the way up to a complete house with roof and utilities for $75,000. And an invitation to have them build your custom design.

All of a sudden, I was antsy and thinking of all the work my instant friends and I had ahead of us. If we diverted from the bumper to bumper traffic flow at Gerlach, we might be able to visit Eagle Lakes today. The site said they had Sunday hours until five.

Svetlana handed me a bowl of cereal, "Well?"

"I am thinking it would be a good idea to visit them today, if we can get organized and out of here in good time."

They cheered and said, "Yes, yes, that is what we are thinking. Do Temple next year!"

We rushed around and more or less threw things into the truck and my pickup. The Pashamobile was disassembled just enough to get it in the truck. Would take weeks to get rid of the last playa dust anyway. I called the Superior phone number and asked if they were open and received confirmation that they were. An hour later, we were easing into the long line of departing vehicles, which were being released onto the exit highway in waves. Two hours after that, we were turning off to the west in Gerlach, headed for Susanville and Eagle Lakes.

Svetlana was with me. "Professor, you know mathematics. How do we decide how complete a cabin to buy?"

"Plumber, in Russia, family and friends go in woods and cut right size trees, haul home, and start building. No fancy flattened logs like those on website." She looked at me, half serious, half smiling.

"Professor, in America, more complicated. They have special saws that are better than we can do by ourselves. Fit tight, so warmer. I think we need to set aside $25,000 for foundation and utilities. And have budget of $50,000 for package. See how much house and package we can get for that. Probably cannot qualify for financing because do not have full time jobs. But my friend will take a note for the lot. Pay him later. Also need money for permits and drawings, although Superior probably has plans that building department will accept."

I looked at her. She was still half serious, half smiling. Must not have said anything too terrible. She picked up my hand and kissed knuckles. 

"Marty, I think dumb plumber, dumb professor and dumb librarians can do this."

We found the way on the first try, about ten miles from highway 395. There were other dusty vehicles in the parking lot. A young man came up and introduced himself as Hank. "You are refugees from Burning Man like these other folks? Need housing urgently?" Everyone laughed and he showed us around. The women were impressed and chattered in Russian. Hank gave me a raised eyebrow look and I explained, "Family friends from Russia. We are going to settle and build near Truckee. Have a lot with utility access, but nothing else, so far."

After an hour of conversation, we were closing in on a single story with loft design of about 900 square feet. One large, one small bedroom, one bathroom, but the rest generous open plan. The basic package was $40,000. Transportation to Truckee area and putting it up would be another $10,000. Rough electrical and rough plumbing, but no fixtures, no insulation, no windows, and no roofing beyond the tarpaper.

I asked Hank to do a written quote while we caucused. Elena and Katarina looked at Svetlana, who looked at me. We laughed. I said, "Do you like it?"

Enthusiastic nods. I went on, "Very sketchy on budget. We have work to do."

Hank handed me the quote and a set of building plans. "Marty, this is good for thirty days. The terms are 10% with the order, 20% two weeks later, and the rest on completion. Delivery within thirty days of order, assuming you have a completed and approved foundation in place. We will finance up to 50% of purchase price, but you have to give us acceptable collateral. Depending on the circumstances, we may accept the cabin as collateral."

We sat at a bench in Superior's customer picnic area and chewed on very late lunch sandwiches. I looked at them and innocently asked, "Where have you arranged for us to stay tonight?"

The stares were surprised, and then frowning. I threw up my hands, "Just asking, that's all."

Svetlana, who was closest, had an iron armlock on me. "No teasing, Marty, this is serious."

"Yes serious. Since we have water and food and a mattress in the big truck, what about going to the lot and finding a place for the log cabin?"

"Yes, yes, yes. Maybe we stop for fresh salad makings."

Katarina said, "Plumber, if you tease us, we will beat on you. Very hard beating."

Her twin said, "Yes, but I think he likes his women beating. Makes him think of sex."

Svetlana used my hair to pull herself up. She kissed the side of my face and said, "Yes. Us too."

Elena was assigned to ride with me. She sat over against the door and stared straight ahead, but glancing at me and then away. Her washed red tee shirt was nicely filled and I got more and more perturbed.

Finally, I said, "You are bad."

"Yes, will have to be punished." A smile crept into her face.

"If I am busy punishing, how will the cabin get built?"

She took my free hand and nibbled on it. "Marty, you are the best tease. We are very lucky to find you."

We were on a back road again, winding through a high mountain valley toward my friend's property.

On the southern edge of the valley, the timbered hills rose on three sides. There was a dirt road leading southwest through second growth pines. In a mile, there was a locked gate. I drove off in the trees to one side and the truck followed me in.

"We have to walk from here. Let's take a snack and some water. It's maybe another mile."

I dug out the property map Doug had given me. Before subdivision, it had been a half section, bordered by public forest. They surrounded me and I pointed out features. "He subdivided 160 acres of his half section into ten acre lots. This one here, number eleven, is the one I talked to him about buying. I've only been out here a couple of times to see it."

We walked along the road until we came to a flagged marker. It was obvious on the map where we were, and in a few more minutes we were at another flagged marker that said "#11" on it. I told them, "The property runs about a quarter mile that way, and a quarter mile this way. That rocky knob is on the edge of our lot. That granddaddy tree down there is about on the far corner." I found a soft spot in the late sunshine and opened the pack. Mama had been smart and brought some beers. It tasted really fine, sitting there in the quiet of the tall trees. There was a brown meadow in the distance that would be green in the spring. Probably, deer would browse in it.

"Marty," Svetlana said, "this is special. Do we deserve such nice place?"

I pulled her back to relax on me. "People will build here anyway. We can help by using land well. Keep cabin off ridgeline. Don't put up fences. Plant more trees."

The twins lay on my other leg. "Librarians approve. Work hard to deserve this."

After all the excitement and dashing around of the last few days, it was peaceful to relax and listen to the birds and watch distant contrails overhead. When the beer was gone, we walked the property lines and talked about where the cabin should go. "There is a water line in the road that runs to an all year creek and a big tank that way. The electric utility will go in the road also, probably within a month. We will have to use generators until then. We can dig a septic tank hole and leach field for sanitation."

I didn't want the utility trenches to be any longer than necessary, but didn't want to be that close to the road either. We were lucky to find one spot where the rocky knob hid us from the road, but it was perhaps three hundred trench feet away. I sat the women down about where the deck would be and asked, "What do you think?"

"Good sun." "Nice rocks." "Wonderful view." Smiles all around.

"Let's go fix dinner."

The women put me in a chair at the camp table where I could write lists of things to do, while they made me a drink and worked on dinner.

The meal of leftovers was delicious. Elena found the kerosene lantarn and lit it as darkness settled in. I wanted to call Doug about acquiring the lot, but there was no cell signal. It seemed important enough to drive back to the highway and find a signal. The twins sent Svetlana with me. I held her hand and asked, "Mama, what name do your friends call you? You are not my Mama, but I do love you!"

"Marty, so-so friends call me Sveta. Close friends call me Svetochka." She kissed my hand and said, 

"Now that Svetlana is in America, we need new short name?"

I found some bars on my phone and pulled over. It was a Sunday night and Doug was home. "Hey partner, I'm up near the property with some friends. You still willing to sell that lot for $50,000, with utilities to the lot line?"

"Marty, I thought you had gone over to the dark side with those crazies from Burning Man." Svetochka smiled at me in the gloom. 

"Nah, nothing special there. But my new partners and I want to build on this lot before snow."

"You're counting on a very dry winter, are you?" He had a hearty laugh. "The electric folks have promised to start next week, but there won't be anything to you for a month or more."

"We looked at a package house from Superior today. Very nice and available within thirty days of order and an approved foundation. You know anyone looking for a quick dig and some readymix?"

"I might. You got any money? I need a cash down payment to help with my site costs. What about ten down and the rest on a ten year note?"

"You are terribly greedy, but yes, I can handle that. Will you call me in the morning about the foundation guy? No signal for my phone on the lot, but we'll be coming to town anyway."

After I finished the call, she was pressing my hand between hers. In a quiet voice, she said, "Marty, you American guys move fast. Nothing happens in Russia like this."

I pulled her over for a kiss. "New name, guys here get all excited about Russian women needing a home."

"New name?"

"Yes, new girlfriend, new lover, new everything for poor plumber."

She batted my head and said, "Don't be foolish. I will sleep on new name."

There was early light coming in the end of the truck when her hand made its way up my back and tugged at my hair. I turned and kissed her forehead.

"Hmm. Marty, what about Maya for your new lover?"

"Maya. I like the sound of that." Two heads poked up and said, "What?"

She kissed me on the lips and said, "Marty's girlfriend has a new name."

I shoved them together, pulled on long pants and flannel shirt against the mountain chill, and went to make coffee. Standing in the first sun at the camp table, I could see dew sparkling in the meadow.

"Plumber, she is in love with you. It is so sweet. You will be good husband?" Elena stepped into my arms and wrapped my hands on her boobs, which were well covered by a thick shirt.

I hummed and kissed the back of her neck. The other one said, "She says ok to share him."

Maya walked straight into us and said, "New name will make breakfast. Maya is ok?"

We three got her in the middle, applying kisses. I said, "Maybe she has forgotten how to cook. With new name, she is too fancy for regular people?"

Her knee came up fast to my crotch, but my arms lifted her high in the air and we laughed as she shouted to come down.

"Marty, dumb professor is very happy. Have your coffee and let me make breakfast."

The librarians pulled their pads and wrote out lists for the day while I stood behind their camp chairs and worked on the wonderful hair. Elena got a pony tail and Katarina received a braid. I realized they needed new clothes for the mountains and the coming cold days. 

We ate standing up, stomping our feet and watching deer on the far side of the meadow. The toast had been made in the frying pan in the leftover bacon grease and was delicious. 

Maya pointed at the big truck and asked, "What about that?"

Katarina said, "Has to go back to Reno in two days." We looked at each other and wondered where all the stuff inside was going.

We squeezed into the pickup and made a beeline for the RV place in town. The owner was strolling around with his coffee when we pulled up and four people piled out. His eyes widened when he got a look at the three gorgeous Russian women.

I introduced myself and said we were urgently in need of a cheap single wide to be used at a construction site north of Truckee. The women smiled at him and said, "Please."

"Not here, but my friend Tom may have something. He does business with the summer construction people and may have one that was not totally trashed."

Tom told him to send us right over, to the south side of town across the river. 

The sign said, "Johnson Facilities Management." Tom was at the counter, expecting us, and had a folder opened up. "Here you go. 16x40, coming out of a road project in a couple of days. If you have six thousand handy, it won't have to come here, I'll send it directly to your site. I'll even throw in a porta potty to use until you can get a sanitary connection. But the cleaning and refilling fees are on you."

We looked at the layout in the folder. Two bedrooms, one bath, kitchen with propane stove and refrigerator, a small dining area. Propane heater on the wall.

We talked it over. Extending the truck would be fifty dollars a day, and it was pretty bad housing compared to the single wide. I looked at Tom, "You're sure this unit we are buying is decent and livable?"

"My guy checked it the other day. The construction companies don't get their security deposits back if they let the help beat them up. It's not new and it's not pretty, but it is decent housing."

Katarina said in her best unaccented voice, "Would you accept a check on a bank in Brooklyn, New York?"

He blinked at her, "You moving here?" She smiled at him and nodded. He nodded back, "If it is no good, you will be sitting in the meadow up there watching my truck haul the unit away."

The twins laughed and she quickly wrote him the check. Elena cooed and kissed his cheek. "You are so kind to homeless girls from Brooklyn." This time the accent was thick and his eyes rolled.

I drove to the local coffee shop and called Doug while the ladies got me a latte. "Good morning, any news about a foundation guy? We just bought a single wide off a construction site and they are delivering it in two days. I need to get a key to that gate and lay in some lumber and bricks to level it."

"Marty, you are moving with the speed of light. My friend Charlie is in the middle of a big job east of town, but said by the time you could talk the county out of a permit, he will be there. Wants to come out and check the land. Do I get a deposit check sometime soon?"

I promised that by the time his title company could come up with a deed and note, I could find the ten thousand dollars down.

"One other thing. The county is going to want a site survey to go with the plans and permit application. Should I use the same surveyer you did?"

"Yes. She is fabulous. Russian background, but very good with the transit. If she comes out to doublecheck the corners, and you show her where the cabin is to go, she should be able to do something for you quickly."

I collected numbers for Charlie and Alisa and rang off just as my latte and an almond croissant arrived.

I said to Maya, "You are now in charge of surveying since you know mathematics, and here is the number of the surveyor who did the property maps. She needs to do a lot survey for us showing the house site. Doug says she is Russian."

I smiled and said, "Call her. See if we can come visit and talk about the job. Use your Svetlana name."

The twins smiled at Mama, and she dubiously picked up my cell and dialed. They recognized each other's accents immediately and lapsed into rapid fire Russian. Maya smiled and clicked off. "We are to come for lunch. Bring wine. She will have soup and salad. Real borscht, she says."

We stopped at the hardware store down the block, which was well stocked with warm clothes. The women wandered among the racks, talking rapidly to each other. Maya came up behind me and said, "Girls are worried all their best parts are covered too deeply." I put my arm around her and said, "Have they forgotten winter cold so fast?"

"Yes. Silly. What good are charms if they are frozen?"

I laughed loudly and the twins frowned. We ended up with a giant bag filled with fleece pants, lightweight quilted down jackets in nice women's colors, and ankle height gore-tex boots with woolen socks. I sent them back to find something to wear on their feet inside the trailer, knowing the floor was going to be cold.

Alisa Simonov was a bundle of energy. She lived with her brother in a house to the north and above the town. After minutes of hugging and introductions, she turned to me. "Marty, they have already told me it is a miracle they found you! They say you are best plumber and best lover ever! She leaned forward with a quick kiss. There were hisses behind me. 

"He is cute. Are you a real plumber, Marty? Not just a play plumber for Burning Man?"

What a charmer. More hisses. "She was dancer in St. Petersburg. Look at body. Not chunky like Petrov women."

Alisa pushed me down on the sofa in the middle of my Russian women, and climbed into my lap. Frowns on either side. 

"Poof. What good is dancing when you cannot be the best? My mother and grandmother were both prima ballerina. I would never be happy in St. Petersburg, so came here as student and worked to get green card." 

She crawled back and forth hugging and kissing. I forced her down across all of our laps. My fingers explored up and down, finding nothing but trim muscle.

"You still have a dancer's body. Does surveying do that?" Maya had her feet and Elena was working her scalp.




Pasha on the Playa Pt. 02



I patted the tight behind gently and she relaxed. "This is not good position for talking business," she muttered.

Four women talked quietly in Russian. I said, kneading her bottom, "Alisa, will you be a friend to my ladies? Help them with life in Truckee? When the house is done, we all need jobs."

She turned over and tried to sit up, but Elena placed a pillow under her head and said to stay still.

She spoke to them in soft Russian. Maya translated, "She says already friends. Wants to help."

I said, "She will be Dancer to us. Let's have lunch and talk about survey."

The meal was very cheery. Afterwards, I brought in the house plans from Superior and we laid them with the property map. I pointed to the place we had liked for the house.

"Yes. Have to be careful to stay far enough from the rocks to put in footing without blasting. Hard to get blasting permit from county."

She wrapped her arms around Elena and Katerina and asked, "It's ok if I flirt with Plumber? He calls me Dancer and is very nice."

My women dragged Alisa to the opposite end of the room and spoke in very rapid Russian, with shaking heads and waving arms. After a minute, kissing and hugging started, and they returned to the table where I was standing with the maps.

Maya said, in her stern mother's voice. "It is decided."

Sounded like trouble. "What is decided?"

"Alisa has P.E. certificate, so will be new architect/engineer for our project. She will take permit application to county. County likes P.E. Solves problems for them."

"That's wonderful. Do I get to give her a hug?"

"She says reward is sleeping in same bed with you and us."

Maya had an arm around my neck and a firm grip on my hair. "Plumber is to behave. No beating Dancer."

I took Alisa's hand and moved to the middle of the room. Standing and giving her a ballet dancer's opening move. Her eyes widened and she began a practice routine which I followed as best I could, remembering lessons from my youth in Minneapolis. Her eyes gestured upward and I nodded. Even with tee shirt and jeans, she looked fabulous perched up there on my hands.

The Petrov's clapped wildly. Alisa kissed me and cried on my shoulder. "Plumber! How did you know? Now I really do love you!"

Before we realized what was going on, Alisa had rescheduled two appointments for the afternoon, gathered up her surveying gear, left her brother a note, and was racing out of the house to the pickup.

Maya and I held hands in the front seats while the twins and Dancer wiggled around in the back on the tiny jump seats. I detoured to Doug's place to get the key to the gate.

On the lot, Alisa kept four helpers dashing here and there with targets and stakes and line. By sundown, the house site was staked and strung, and all of the survey information for the site map was in Alisa's computer.

Late in the game, I discovered that I wasn't driving Alisa back to town, she was staying the night in the truck. It was chilly and I broke out the bourbon. She perched on my knee and very seriously said, "Marty, this is not the night I am promised. That will be part of house warming celebration for finished cabin." She smiled and kissed me.

I had a sudden thought and walked us away from the dinner area. She took my arm and pushed me against a large tree. A full body press and flaming kiss later, she said, "Yes?"

"The big truck has to go back to Reno tomorrow. The women deserve a tour of the town. What if I get two rooms at the Majestic and we stay the night. I will pay and you will take Russian ladies to fine store and buy nice dresses for night out. You get one too."

She was breathless, "Oooh, so very fine idea. Women will be excited. Will you dance with me?"

"Yes, but must share carefully. Not good for you to get too much attention."

"I know. Terrible beatings if I misbehave." She pressed me again for another hot kiss. Suddenly, the others were there, making unhappy noises.

Alisa exploded in a volley of Russian, leading us back to the dinner table. Smiles were breaking out.

"Marty! Fantastic idea! Alisa will show us clubs and gambling!"

Maya was leaning on me. "Plumber, we must fix hair, no? We have to go to spa?"

I pulled her away from the others. "You are wondering why I am spending money on you when we need it here."

She kissed me and said in very quiet voice, "Young women need some fun, but you are right about money."

I kissed the side of her face and whispered, "Professors need fun too." My hand grazed her tight bottom.

"I have a confession to make. Marty has a trust fund. Grandfather was rich. Told me to use it well."

She faced me and pulled hard on my ears. "So trust fund not for house, but ok to spend on party for girlfriends?" She smiled and kissed me wetly. I held her tight.

She called the twins and Alisa. "This one told us big lie. Must be punished. Requires many kisses."

Three faces looked mystified. "Talk to Maya, but not right now."

Alisa and I sat next to each other at the table. I said quietly to her, "Maya says Russian ladies need spa and hair treatments to look their best. Can you arrange that too?"

She squeezed my hand under the table, "Marty, American girls would call you a sugar daddy. Better be careful."

I whispered in her ear, "I am going to kiss you, and you are going to slap my face."

With her eyes wide in the lantern light, and lips pursed, she was captivating. I leaned just my face forward and kissed her tenderly. Everyone's gaze was on us.

The slap was very loud. "Plumber, behave. Pay attention to your women."

I went to Elena and Katerina and said, "I'm sorry. I promise to stop flirting with Alisa."

I tried to kiss them, but got a shake of the head and "Nyet. Must be punished." Their eyes were fierce but their lips were curled in tiny smiles. I did penance by washing dishes. The women had dish towels flying, with hip bumps at me.

Maya disappeared and returned with playing cards. "Marty, we will play Russian game of bridge. You watch."

They were very good and very competitive. Lots of shouting and clapping. No one kept score but I could see that Maya was the best player. I was feeling loving and wondering what was going to happen at bed time with a new woman joining us.

The moon was up and we took a walk before turning in. The new fleeces were on. There were complaints about no hats, and Alisa said she would help them find some tomorrow.

There were complaints also about peeing in the bushes. And no hot water except what could be done on the stove. I said, "Terrible, just terrible what decent women have to endure here in the wild west."

Alisa was bemused by the idea of one male and four female bodies on the giant mattress as we undressed in the truck by the light of a lantern. "Really? All of us in there?"

What she didn't know was that my women had whispered in my ear that my 'punishment' was to give Dancer the best sex she had ever had, with them watching and participating. I was in my shorts, worrying about providing the best sex of her life to a glamorous woman as her topless body turned in the light. I held out my hand and she stepped into me, warm skin on warm skin.

"Plumber, I am beginning to see why these women like sleeping with you." I picked her up and lay down, just the two of us, in the middle. The others decided naked was necessary and edged along our sides, providing warmth and encouragement. I pulled Dancer into my front, one hand covering her modest breast. My tongue licked the back of her neck.

"Marty, are you supposed to be making out with me? I thought the twins demanded punishment?"

Elena kissed me, and Katarina kissed Alisa. "Is big secret, but we told him not to wait for night in finished cabin."

My fingers worked their way downwards and inside the panties she still wore. "Marty, I keep saying 'really'? Is this really...?"

"Yes, right here in the truck, in the woods, you are going to have loving..." Maya's words were soft but emphatic, followed by more in Russian.

My hand eased off the panties and found a warm, wet pussy. Elena was taking away my shorts and squeezing my hard cock. The twins were whispering to her in Russian also. The body in my arms was twitching and shaking. Maya was pulling my hair and chewing on my ear. 

She was tight but very lubricated. Her throat made little noises and said, as I easily entered her, "Oh Marty, you are so good in me."

The twins sat on their knees in the dim light and asked, "Is that better?"

Alisa arched up at me, "Do they always talk so much? Am I supposed to scream and shout?"

Everyone went silent, except Alisa, who was receiving a harder and harder pounding. "No, no, no, aieee!" She came, and slumped back. But the big cock didn't stop and didn't come. I stroked firmly into her slim frame, and she responded.

"Oh, I've never..." She climaxed again and the muscled legs kicked toward the sky before falling around my waist. I turned us over and raised her body to find those special tits. Maya was behind her, massaging the neck and shoulders, running fingers up and down her sides and around the boobs.

This time she did scream. A full throated yell that got me off instantly. Suddenly, she was sitting on a fountain of hot come filling her cunt. "Oh, oh, oh."

The women dragged her away with kisses and licks and a damp towel between her legs.

Maya reminded me I wasn't done by claiming my still hard cock for herself. The grin on her face as she rode me like a cowgirl brought a smile and a laugh to my face. I licked her hand. "Was that ok?"

She leaned very close and said, "You have another girlfriend. Very special girlfriend."

I hugged her and we relaxed on pillows to watch the other three, who were twined around each other, mumbling indistinctly.

"Come here and stay warm, you will freeze out there." Mother's voice was stern.

There was a lovely smell of sex under the covers. I could cuddle a long time with this harem.

They pushed Alisa on top of me. She put her head down on my chest and made little noises and twitched. I ran my fingers up and down her spine.

"Marty, is it ok if you have another girlfriend? Can the twins punish you like that every night?"

Sleep was taking us and the giggles trailed off.

In the morning, Alisa and I were alone when coffee arrived. "You get extra time. Only today. Soon we have to empty truck and go." Maya's smile was bright. Alisa got a nice caress and a kiss. "We are so happy to find you, Dancer."

Alisa sat up and reached for Mama. "Oh, this is wonderful. So special. So loving. And new boyfriend!"

"You don't mind sharing with other Russian women?"

"Nyet!" She fell back into my arms, laughing.

When we were alone, she whispered, "Marty, I completely lost it with you last night. Never, never have I had loving like that. I don't even know how many times I came!"

"Dancer, it is like Maya says, we are lucky to have found you. Kiss me."

cont'd in Part 3 - Trouble in Truckee



Pasha on the Playa Pt. 03



Trouble in Truckee

After the wild night of loving in the rental truck, everyone stood having breakfast in trees at the edge of our lot. I carefully backed the truck down off the road to a flat spot where it could be emptied. In half an hour, there was an enormous pile of boxes, bedding, Pashamobile and loose ends. We would need more tarps to protect it. It was obvious little of it was going in a single wide.

Alisa said, "Marty, I have a friend who might have an extra container to put that in. There are bears around who will destroy things if we don't."

Maya said she and Alisa would ride with me in the pickup so the twins could enjoy the symbolism of returning their Burning Man truck to where it came from. "Yes, yes. The circle completed," they chorused, sounding like confirmed Burner groupies.

Alisa was all business this morning. "Work now, play in casinos later," she smiled. We spent the hour driving to Reno talking about the county permit, and about the sanitation design. "My brother Andrei is a construction foreman and can probably borrow a loader with a digger on it for the weekend. I will do the spec on the tank size and you can go to the prefab place and pick one out."

She thought some more and said, "When we get to the hotel, give me a few minutes and I will calculate the tank and you can shop." She laughed at Maya, "We need place for poop to go!"

We followed the truck to the rental place and watched the twins walking around with the agent, showing him how well they had taken care of it. He pointed at the white covering of playa dust and wrote notes.

They climbed in back, complaining, "He charged $200 extra for dirt! We told him special playa dust and he should give credit!" They laughed merrily. I asked, "Are we renting a truck next year? What about a proper RV?"

"Marty! We get to go again? What about new mutant vehicle?" They bubbled away in the back.

That set the tone for the rest of the day. Alisa gave me a note about the septic tank and I shooed the four of them out the door to shop and primp. Maya had a fistful of cash in her purse and a big smile on her face.

Desert Septic was on a large layout north of town, with concrete tanks of all sizes scattered about amid piles of sanitary pipe. Larry, the yard salesman, showed me one the right size and said, "Six hundred if you pay cash, and five hundred to bring it to your lot north of Truckee and set it. You have to provide access, proper hole, sand to bed it in, and so on."

"Sorry to be upfront about the cash, but I get dodgy folks around here who ask for terms and then don't pay, knowing it's almost impossible for me to recover one of these once it is in the ground and backfilled. And used." He grimaced.

In a few minutes, I had a firm quote for a package deal, including a couple hundred feet of pipe for the leach field. Delivery ten days from order.

After filling the back of the pickup with lumber for supporting the single wide, which was coming tomorrow, I needed to pay attention to being a proper escort for my lovely ladies. The barber at the hotel was polite, but I could tell he hadn't seen a mess like my hair for a while.

"Do whatever is needed to make me ready to take four beautiful women out on the town tonight."

"Mister, you need help. Serious help."

An hour and a hundred dollars later, the improvement was startling. Joe, the barber, pointed me to his cousin's men's store to cover the clothing requirement.

I was on my way to the suite when my cell rang. It was Maya, sounding happy. "Marty, you will be pleased. Ladies look good. Going to store to pickup dresses soon. Good thing you told me about trust fund." She laughed gaily and rang off. 

I said a silent thanks to granddad, "I'm spending it well."

The concierge had understood when I asked for a non-touristy restaurant to take some visitors from overseas. We were headed to Amelio's at seven.

In the room, I ordered a plate of shrimp and veggies, and opened a beer. At four, there was a noise at the door and four smiling women bustled in. Elena twirled and said, "Marty, new daytime dresses! You like?"

I wandered over and applied light kisses to madeup faces and fancy hair. Maya said, "Dinner dresses coming soon with bellman." I opened my eyes wide and she laughed. Alisa whispered in my ear, "We had such fun. You are good to your women." She pressed my hand and asked, "Ok to be your woman too?"

The twins were at her back, laughing, hissing and saying, "No. Fourth woman too many!"

There was about to be a giant wrestling match when I realized the fancy everything on the women had to be respected. "Librarians are jealous? You told me the other day you were not territorial."

They tried to stare me down and failed, collapsing against my side in fits of giggles.

The evening dresses arrived with the bellman, who had wide eyes at my roomful of women. He got a big tip and a smile from me. "Yes, sir. You have a good time tonight."

The dresses, day and night, were soon hung up, and I got a show of new and sexy underwear. I grabbed Alisa around the middle and tickled her until she screamed. I said, "You are responsible for buying frilly lingerie for Russian women?"

"Yes, yes. Must look good for their man." She relaxed against me and said, again, "Marty, this is such fun. Your girls will love you always!"

"Even when they are digging trenches at the lot?"

I was manhandled to the bed and sat on. I said to the twins, "Alisa's brother Andrei is going to bring a digger and make the septic tank hole. But lots of shovel work too. You can dance tonight and dig tomorrow?"

I was buried in incredibly clean, fresh smelling female bodies. "Yes, we will shovel. And won't smell like this either. Will trailer have working shower?"

Typical male, I hadn't thought of that. Picked up the phone and called Doug. "My women insist on a working shower in the trailer by the weekend. You will let me do the service to the lot, or do you have someone better handy?"

"Marty, damn you, I couldn't find a better plumber if I tried. But you get your butt in here and sign one of my subcontractor liability forms before you mess with that main."

I clicked off and looked at the women. "If you are very nice to plumber, he will connect to main as soon as Andrei can dig it out."

They flopped on me. "Plumber, we settled that already. You have many punishment points waiting. Can work off in ditch!" This was uproariously funny. I grabbed at a body, pinched it in a delicate place and applied a kiss. Maya said, "Very bad." Then whispered, "Russian women smelling bad without their plumber..."

We lay there, ready for a nap, when Alisa said, "Need to talk about tomorrow."

I stood and twirled Dancer, ending with her body on my shoulders. "Now you can give orders from up there."

Maya spoke to her in Russian and she nodded. "Ok, your engineer says busy day at her office doing your application and meeting clients. Maya will come with me and assist. After dropoff, twins will go with Marty to lot and help crew to set trailer in right place and level it. Take propane tanks along."

She waved her arms and said, "Now we will have dancing practice. Have to look good tonight."

Actually, it looked supremely silly. Four curvaceous women in fancy lace underwear taking turns in the arms of a large, ungainly male who hadn't been on a dance floor in a very long time. 

I said to Alisa, "When I danced in Minneapolis, I was ten years old and five feet tall."

She laughed and kissed me lightly on the mouth, "Marty, we like the large size version of you. I will teach you and the other women how young people dance today."

I opened a bottle of wine, which went fast. Bodies relaxed and flowed around the room. Even Plumber got the hang of it. Alisa teased the others by moving into a clinch with me and just swaying in one place.

Maya said, "Bad girl. Are you trying to have stand up sex in public?"

The three of them clustered around us and said, "Ok, Marty, go after slutty woman."

Instead, I did another body press and held Dancer as high as I could. She stretched and did one of her ballerina poses. Everyone cheered and I let the tight body down carefully.

Maya said, "Tonight, Dancer, you must do your ballet moves with him in front of others. You are very beautiful. Will not matter if your pretty underwear shows."

The twins cheered, I smiled, and Alisa looked stricken. "Oh Maya, nooo..."

I pulled her up. "Yes. We will practice two or three throws and a high lift."

We did, to more cheering and a blushing Dancer.

A limo the girls didn't know about was waiting at the curb when we came down. My ladies were gorgeous and getting a lot of attention. I had instructed them to use Russian at odd moments to impress the locals and it worked. The chief valet and I were buddies by now. He winked at me and I slipped him a twenty.

The maitre d' at Amelio's was impressed as hell when he greeted us with an Italian accent and Maya responded in his own language. When we were seated, I raised my eyebrows at Maya and she said, "I spent a year in Pisa at the university. Not fluent but ok."

The wait staff seemed electrified by four beautiful women and one guy. Bodies hovered. Wine and food appeared like magic. Maya and I held hands under the table and smiled a lot. She whispered in my ear, "This is wonderful treat after years of hard times for us. You are truly a special friend." I turned and kissed her gently. The others cheered.

Alisa and I had done a last minute check of places where there was a band that could be danced to. The limo took us to 'Culver's,' which had a flashing neon sign out front that worried me about the plastic that might be inside. Lucky for us, it was not loud and trendy. After the first couple of songs, we could see that the crowd was locals who had come to dance. 

So had we, and a marvelous two hours of dancing with all four of them followed. About halfway through, the band played a light swing piece and Alisa and I took full advantage. She loved being in the air, and I was energized as her partner. Seeing the elegance and grace of her moves, I wondered why our engineer had given up her career in dance. We came off the floor to a standing ovation. I stood to the side and bowed, holding her hand high. When we finally sat down, everyone's eyes were wet.

Back in the room at midnight, the formerly excited bodies were very limp. Blissfully, sighing, kissing limp. I went around whispering, "No sex, just sleep." The 'nyets' were soft and slipped away as I got everyone under the covers and turned out the lights.

Early sun was shining in the window and Dancer was poking me. "Marty, that was the best evening of my life, but we have to be in Truckee in an hour!"

I pulled her in tight, "Not possible. Cancel all appointments!"

Five quick showers later, the bellman was loading his cart and we were headed out the door to a gigantic squeeze in the pickup. 

From the moment that we were stuck behind a sick big rig trying to make it up the steep road in the canyon, the day went downhill. We weren't even to Truckee when Alisa's phone started ringing. We could hear a series of excuses and promises to fix client problems today for sure.

"Marty, they are all mad at me for disappearing. I have to catch up with work."

Maya squeezed her shoulder. "Clients are important. Leave us for today."

I was looking for a parking space when my phone buzzed. Maya answered and said it was Doug.

"Hey, partner, there is a glitch at the title company. Something about an easement. They are working it but said to tell you no deed until next week."

I answered, "And no permit, either?"

"I'm afraid so. Can't tell if this is serious, but maybe you shouldn't dig just yet."

I looked at four sets of anxious eyes. "Title problem. Might affect the deed."

I pushed Alisa out. "Go take care of clients. We will do other things and see you at the end of the day at the lot."

Maya smiled at me. "Marty, in Russia, is always problem with officials. Takes patience."

The twins echoed, "Patience."

Full of adrenalin for all the wrong reasons, we drove rapidly to the lot and went to work on the chore list. Shortly before eleven, a flatbed truck came up the dirt road to the curve by our boulders. The single wide, looking sad but serviceable, was perched on top. At the head of the bed was a crane which was supposed to do the lifting. Sam, the driver, and his helper walked over and noticed my dubious look.

"Mister, we do these every day. We don't get paid for dropping them." They smiled and we smiled and showed them the spot for the trailer, with supports more or less in place.

The guy was an expert with the truck. Backing down over rough ground and paralleling the site. Our team had tapes and was frantically measuring as the trailer was hoisted off the bed and lowered toward the ground. At three feet, everything stopped while the final measurements and leveling took place. It had wheels, but they were never going to touch the ground. Ten minutes and several anxious crunches later, we had a living unit resting on our lot.

The women and I let out a big cheer, and I pressed twenties into the crew's hands. As the flatbed disappeared down the road, we cautiously climbed into the unit. It was actually clean inside. But no water, no power, and no heat until the propane was hooked up. Mattresses, but no bedding. 

From the giant pile of Burning Man debris, camp chairs and tables were extracted. With sandwiches and cold beers from the cooler, we sat in the shade at the side of our new temporary home and smiled at each other. 

Following up a thought, I wandered the road, looking for a water standpipe. Viola! There was one only a few hundred yards up the road, next to the lot sign for #14.

Saying I would be right back, I drove the pickup down to the highway and called Alisa. 

"Hi, are you surviving the unhappy clients?"

"Marty! It is good to hear your voice. I am still imagining myself in the air on your strong hands."

"Dancer, I am still imagining you in my arms!"

"Hey, I found a water standpipe down the road. If you could lay your hands on one of those small gas engine water pumps, we could fill the big plastic tubs from Burning Man, fill the water heater in the single wide, and have hot water for Russian showers! No permit required!"

"Oh Plumber, your women will be so happy. Things are under control here. I have other news to tell you when I get there. Am bringing dinner. And the pump! See you by five."

I went back to the lot and was impressed by three hard working women organizing the debris pile and selecting things to go inside. Without revealing what I was doing, I wrestled the empty blue water containers into the pickup, and went to work replumbing the water heater. I said, opaquely, "This is for cooking water for dinner."

Maya pushed me out the door and said, "You are not fooling me, Plumber. What are you doing?"

I pulled her into my lap in a camp chair, which threatened to go down with both of us. "Professor, I was doing plumbing. Do you need to know the details?"

Her response was a long hot kiss, which attracted whistles from inside. Finally, she said, "Marty, if it is plumbing, it has to be good news."

I took her hand and we walked leisurely along the road until the standpipe came in view. "What is that, Professor?"

She giggled and poked my ribs. "You are bad guy, teasing me. That looks like water comes out of it."

"And if the water goes in the blue tubs, and is pumped into the propane water heater, what happens?"

She took me in a very tight clinch. "Maya is thinking of all the nights she stood in tub of cold water, washing with cloth."

I whispered, "With Plumber, no cold water, no wash cloths."

She laughed and batted at my head. "You are terrible. Want clean bodies to sleep with!"

We skipped back down the road, laughing and playing, my Russian girlfriend and I.

Alisa arrived before five and opened her trunk. The pump was old and dirty but, she said, "Made him start it. Runs like a champ."

The librarians were totally mystified, and we did nothing to enlighten them. With the aid of the pump, we had a hundred gallons from the standpipe in three containers in no time. Back at the unit, my improvised plumbing got the containers in the air above the top of the water heater, and used gravity to pressurize the gimcrack system. With propane connected, the heater was roaring in a few minutes, and Elena suddenly shouted, "Showers! Hot water for showers!"

It's nice to be a hero, even if only for an evening. Voluptuous naked Russian bodies kept dropping into my lap, fresh and smelling of violets, bringing drink after drink. Alisa sat next to me, sipping wine, and said, "Marty, you are discovering the way to a Russian immigrant woman's heart is American plumbing!"

I kissed her fingers and smiled. No words were necessary.

She went on, "I talked to the county. Told them they needed to look the other way about our doing the sanitary excavation this weekend. Told them absolutely no liability for the county if we are wrong about the deed and the lot."

"Andrei is good enough with the excavator to uncover the water main?"

"Yes. You will like him. He is an artist with equipment."

"After dinner, can we work on the materials list? I only guessed at things in Reno."

"There are four women determined to reward your efforts with their showers." She was in my lap, kissing me. 

"If you shower with me before bed, there will be trouble, won't there?"

"I will speak to them. One time only shower for two." We hugged each other and chuckled.

Four Russian women proud of their cooking in one small single wide kitchen is madness. But the results were out of this world. I didn't know the name of anything and was afraid to ask. Smiles and nods kept the dishes coming. 

I forced them outside with dire threats if I was not allowed to clean up. They went for a stroll, promising dessert later. 

I was wiping my hands dry, and examining the miserable double bed, when hands went around my chest and lips covered my neck. "We can't sleep there. Your women want to sleep out. We can use Burning Man bedding."

For some reason, I was feeling teary. Burying my head in her neck, I muttered, "You are easy to love, my wonderful Russian woman."

Her arms gripped me tighter. "You are making me cry, Marty. We are here, camped out in the wonderful forest. I have my children with me. I could not expect this. Never."

We rocked back and forth, feeling bound closer and closer together. Alisa came in and punched us. "What is this? You are not teenagers any more. I am calling your mother."

Dancer explained to Maya in Russian that the two of us needed an hour for work, and then would come to bed. We sat at the dining settee with plans and the survey, taking off measurements for pipe and fittings. Andrei would dig the permanent trenches for water, sewer and electrical, but do shallow side digs to feed the single wide for now. 

We were almost done when she took my hand to her mouth and kissed it. "You said you needed a job when the house was done. What about joining me right now? I have more work than I can handle. We will divide it up. If we are angry at each other after a bad day, your other loves will beat it out of us."

I folded up the papers, took her in my arms, and walked out to the starry bedroom. Quietly, I said, "Tell the others, in Russian, that you demanded I work with you, and I accepted."

I added, "But we have to be naked, in the middle, before you tell them that."

She cuffed me and whispered, "Terrible, Plumber, terrible."

She sat on my chest in her naked beauty, and went on at length, arms stretched to the heavens. I worried about the verbal embroidery that must be going on. What story is she really telling them, I wondered. Exclamations of outrage and "Nyet!" came from the audience.




Pasha on the Playa Pt. 03



She speeded up and raised her voice, finishing in a rush before falling full out on me. The three Petrovs were laughing a storm and pounding on both of us.

I groaned and they pounded harder. "Marty! You have a job. Russian engineer is being very kind. Are you not grateful?"

I pulled Alisa to my front, using teeth on her shoulder. I growled, "Tell them I am grateful and will apply severe punishment if there is any more teasing."

She wiggled and whispered, "Yes, master." I pinched both nipples and she choked out a volley of Russian.

Calm was restored. I turned Dancer's body over and kissed her delicately. She kissed back and hummed.

In my ear, in Russian, she said, "I love you." Our tongues played tag, and Maya said, "We are neglected tonight, but is ok. She has done much good for project."

I don't know whether it was the alcohol or not, but there was a lot of twitching and turning in the night. Faces appeared next to mine and wanted a kiss, or two or three. A partial moon illuminated the pasture and the long shadows cast by tall trees.

The librarians complained, at 3 am, that they were being frozen out, and demanded to be next to me. Loving was needed, they said, but not right now. I promised all sorts of loving, and said I would chase them naked in the woods. This got me kisses and tiny bites, and two sleeping beauties.

A light went on in the kitchen to announce that it was six am, even if still dark. Alisa cuddled with me and we organized the day. Maya and Elena would go with her, and Katarina with me in the pickup, which had a long list of materials to procure. Tomorrow was Friday, and Andrei would bring the excavator late in the day if he could. Otherwise, Saturday morning. 

I got a sweet kiss and a question. "Are you really going to work with me?"

I pulled her muscled body close and made growling noises. "You dare to challenge your mate? You have been recruited to the Russian matriarchy? I am hearing echoes of Catherine the Great?"

Maya was watching out the window as I chased three naked bodies around in the grass, shouting wild threats. Finally, we dashed inside to find coffee mugs already on the table. It was dark and hot, just what was needed. I caressed the hips and behinds, applying kisses elsewhere until they complained, "Plumber, is work day. No fair hitting on your women."

There was a shortage of clean underwear. Elena volunteered to take dirty laundry baskets to the place in town. I asked if a washer-dryer needed to be added to the list for the pickup.

Maya lifted her eyebrows at me, "Trust fund?" I nodded and smiled. "We'll make a place on the deck for now."

And added, "Katarina will buy new undies for all the ladies to go with new washer." 

A plate of eggs and bacon was thrust into my hands with orders to take it outside and stop obnoxious comments.

An hour later, Katarina and I were headed down the freeway toward Reno as the others drove to Truckee for their chores. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her make darting glances in my direction. Finally, I said, "You are a bad girl."

"Marty, you have to let us tease you!"

"I'll tease you! Where is the job, young one? You are just going to lie around?" 

She stared at me, eyes stricken, "Marty, that is not nice! We are not lie around women!"

After a tense pause, she went on, "I was not supposed to tell you, but Maya is talking to librarian for county. They are thinking about second bookmobile. Is big secret. You can not spoil surprise."

I shouted, "Wonderful!" and she punched me.

After I calmed down and paid attention to the windy road in the canyon, she leaned over the console and whispered, "You have been neglecting us."

I moaned, "There is no justice. I take you out for a nice evening, and two days later I am neglecting you?"

The smile was back. "Bookmobile ladies need a lot of attention!"

Good spirits enveloped us as the truck coasted downhill into Reno. We traded off chores, using the phone for arranging dropoffs and pickups. At the lumberyard, I had a sudden thought and called Alisa.

"Marty, how are you doing?"

"Dancer, we will need sand and gravel for the septic."

"Plumber, you think engineers have no brains? Andrei is bringing with him. Do you have a real problem?"

"Katarina says they are neglected."

"Oh, these young ones. Never satisfied. Maya and I will deal with them!"

"Don't be cruel. I will see you tonight."

By four, the truck was filled to overflowing and we headed up the grade to the mess we called home. Katarina struggled to keep her eyes open and failed, leaving me with my thoughts about the project.

Soon, the hard work would see a house and not a cluttered construction site. Tonight, we needed a planning meeting to decide if it was time to place the order for the cabin and write the big deposit check. I should give Hank Schmidt at Superior an update and talk about production timing. We needed Doug to scramble and get his real estate venture out of trouble with the county and the title company.

It was Friday night and time for happy hour, but I was tense with worries about the big weekend of work to connect to the water main and get the septic hole ready for the prefab tank next week.

Kat and I were unloading the pickup as others arrived with their own armfuls of plans and materials. Maya shooed everyone out of the kitchen, invoking Russian mother privilege to work on dinner. I approached with an armlock, kiss and hug. "Hot stuff, I am going to sneak into the woods with you..."

"Oof, you are very bad boy, Marty. Mama will beat you." We fisted each other, laughing and I went outside to help organize. 

Alisa had her transit out and was directing more stake driving to guide Andrei's excavator. I was not about to disturb three young Russian women working furiously, and took drink orders.

Inside, Maya refused an offer of help and said to pay attention to my women. My fine women, she said.

I delivered three tall margaritas and began scattering piles of pipe where they were needed.

It was almost dark when Alisa declared we were ready for an early start with Andrei, and we trotted inside, where the gimcrack shower held together for another washing of beautiful bodies. My efforts at molesting were deflected and my butt slapped as I wedged into the narrow stall.

The dinner entree was Russian style meatloaf. Maya said, "Is meatball recipe, but in American loaf."

Elena said, helping herself to seconds, "Mama, he is working us so hard, we will not get fat eating like lumberjack."

I insisted on clearing and doing the dishes, saying, "Someone make coffee, we need to have a conference."

The librarians were blowing off steam, hitting on me, snapping their dishtowels and making Alisa and Maya laugh. I wondered when their secret about the bookmobile was going public.

I sat and went over the notes on my yellow pad. "It's time to give Superior an order for the cabin. We also need a schedule which shows how all the pieces of the project come together. Since I am just a dumb plumber, I think the Professor will have to be the Project Director to keep us out of trouble. I will worry about all the in the ground work, Alisa will run interference with the county, and the librarians will look for jobs and take on special assignments."

I looked around and it did not seem that revolt was imminent. Maya got up and came back with the little glasses and her special bottle of icy Russian vodka.

She smiled and stuck out her tongue at me. "To Plumber, who has rescued Russian women!"

I was taken outside, stripped and stuffed into the nest of bedding, where four naked bodies took turns rubbing and teasing and accusing me of bad things at the same time they whispered sweet nothings in my ears. It felt like family loving, including the part about no sex tonight because tomorrow was going to be busy. Maya was pushed into my arms and we fell asleep together.

It was barely light when we heard honking from down at the gate, and I rushed there with a key for the lock. Andrei was in a large dump truck with the digger on behind. By the time he pulled up at the site, Alisa was ready with a hot mug of coffee and a sisterly kiss. 

Her brother was lean and wiry, with a quick smile and a strong handshake. We did a fast walk around the site and were summoned for breakfast, which was enormous, with eggs, pancakes, juice, pastry and more. The two of us discussed that if he and I carefully uncovered the water main, he could concentrate on the septic work while I attached the saddle to the main, which would allow puncturing of the pipe for the service to our cabin. A tricky business, but I had done it many times. 

Soon there was a five foot trench I could stand in, with the six inch pipe exposed. Alisa muscled in behind me and announced that she was my helper. "Besides, you need an engineer to keep watch."

I turned halfway around and told her, "If there is too much pestering, there will be trouble in the trench."

I emphasized the two t's and gave her one of my darkest looks.

She laughed, "Plumber, you cannot scare me any more. Remember, you have danced with your engineer, and made her very happy."

We fell into a warm kiss just as Maya peered down and asked, "That is part of getting water?"

We fisted each other and Alisa said, "Da. Very important for workers to get along in socialist paradise."

Maya groaned and said, "That is not funny, young one. Some of us have bad memories."

An hour later, our inch and a half tap was complete and we were backfilling the trench with compacted dirt and sand. The steel shaft from the shutoff valve was enclosed in two Christy boxes, and Alisa brought a hose for a test. I gave the handle for the shutoff rod to Maya and she cautiously turned it. Water shot way out of the end of the hose to cheers from everyone. Our own water was a major step forward.

Andrei waved and kept digging. By noon, the hole for the tank looked big and deep, with its beautifully carved bottom and shaped sides ready for a bed of sand to cushion the prefab.

In late afternoon, the network of trenches for the perforated pipe which would distribute the output from the tank was finished and ready for me to go to work. Andrei begged off from the drink I suggested and said he had promised his girlfriend, who was a single mother, to be back for dinner. He would return at noon on Sunday for backfilling.

After much needed showers, the Russians and I sat in deck chairs looking at all the progress and sipped our drinks. We were having leftover meatloaf, which was a fine idea for tired bodies.

"Marty, when we were at Burning Man, I was not sure you were a real plumber. American men tell so many stories and pound their chests and then don't deliver!"

Katarina giggled and said, "Mama, Marty delivers!" 

My lover sat in my lap and kissed me to quiet clapping. "Yes, he does. He really does."

The next morning, after breakfast, I held a short class in cutting and gluing the plastic sewer pipe, followed by instruction in how to prepare the sloped trenches with sand, gravel and filter cloth.

By eleven o'clock, with much dashing around and complaining about the nasty ABS cement getting on their hands, we had more than a hundred feet of septic field finished and ready for Andrei. I kissed each one and said the cement stains were badges of plumbing honor. After grumbles, they were full of excitement about having worked on their own sanitary system. 

I said, laughing, "You did good work. This is not the place to make mistakes. If you have to dig it up later, it is smelly bad mess! Worse than outhouse."

"Marty," Elena said, "your women will be very happy not to use portapotty too." This smelly but necessary facility had shown up a week ago to eliminate trips into the trees with a shovel.

Over lunch, we talked about sleeping arrangements. Soon, it was going to be frosty every morning. The women wanted to be together and said the singlewide bed would not do. "Marty, we are not baby squirrels, curled up with their mother!"

For six weeks, we needed shelter for a pile of bedding with five bodies in it. Alisa had the answer. "Tomorrow, Maya and I will go to the outdoor place in Truckee and buy the biggest tent they have. Marty and the twins will nail together a temporary platform. We will also buy one of those portable propane stoves for seriously cold nights."

I added, "And get two of the largest blowup mattresses you can find."

Eyes fastened on me. "Marty, you are getting considerate of your women? All of a sudden, you are being a proper lover?"

I made threatening noises and we all went back to work.

The following week was full of ups and downs. With Andrei's help, the septic was finished and stubbed out at the cabin foundation line. Doug was still making optimistic promises but showing no progress. The county was unhappy, and I complained to Doug, "Are you proving that amateur subdivisions are a disaster?"

"Marty, give me a break. It will all work out. You need patience."

I threatened, "Doug, our cabin is in production. If I have to buy a second generator to do the onsite work because your power is not installed, it's coming out of your hide."

Alisa dealt with my frustrations by giving me client assignments. Since the client is always right, I was forced to find smiles instead of frowns when bad ideas and dumb questions surfaced.

Every day, the marvelous team, chattering away in Russian to each other, chased problems and came home to the singlewide with smiles. I kissed them and asked for language instruction. My horrible accent got my ears boxed and ribs prodded. At bedtime, in the fabulous tent, everyone snuggled and the world's troubles went away. 

I worried about virility and asked Maya, "Lover, it is ok that I am not attacking every morning?"

Her knee in my crotch was matched by a tongue in my mouth. Leaning on my chest, she said, "Plumber, first we need house, then loving!" The others heard us and giggled. 

The day that the title company processed our deed, and the county issued a belated building permit, I declared a celebration. Maya and Alisa arranged a happy hour room at a neighborhood bar, with new and old Truckee friends invited.

Katarina announced she was the designated driver, so I was feeling no pain when her sister came over with a woman in tow. "Marty, this is Katherine Smith, the county librarian. She thinks there might be jobs for two librarians from Brooklyn!"

I smiled and shook hands, thinking we could now talk about the big secret. She said, "So you are the famous plumber they met at Burning Man?"

"Luckiest day of my life. Don't understand what they see in me."

Her eyes checked me out. "Hmm. They have been telling me about all the things you know how to do. They even complimented your loving skills."

I grabbed Elena, "You promised not to tell!"

Amid the laughter, I kissed Katherine on the cheek and said, "They are very smart and work very hard. You will be happy with them."

The middle aged librarian blushed and said, "Elena, he is a terrible flirt."

"Yes, yes, terrible."

I asked, "Did you tell her about driving the Pashamobile on the Playa?"

Katherine's eyes widened in surprise, "Driving on the Playa?"

"Yes," I said, "they built this amazing vehicle, shipped it to Reno, got it into a rented truck and brought it to Burning Man. It was sensational. You will have no worries about their driving your bookmobile after that."

With a big smile, she said, "Perhaps they will give me a ride next year?"

Elena had a fit when I said, "Absolutely. Of course, you have to be very relaxed about not having clothes on."

Katherine was even pinker, but laughed and said, "I suppose I have to take lessons? From Russian twins?"

Maya had heard the end of the conversation and cuffed me, "He is very rude. In Russia, we would make him sleep outside!"

I winked and said, "If you come to the new house, they will put the Pashamobile back together and there can be rides!"

I added, "And stories about Pasha. Very grown up stories..."

"Oh dear, you have me completely captured. The announcement for library grants is going to be this coming week. If we are lucky, I can make a job offer not too long after that."

I put my arm around her shoulder and whispered, "We will have a grant party. You will be the honored guest."

I was pushed away as Maya explained that Plumber was not really obnoxious.

In the truck going home, I was punched and then her soft voice said, "You made a new friend for us, Marty. She has that look in her eyes. The bedroom look..."

"Hey, I was just trying to help!"

I was required to deal with a tipsy professor who laughed about her Marty hitting on the county librarian and held me tight.

At breakfast the next morning, I was asked, "We are really going to make Pashamobile run again?"

"There has to be a redesign for next year. We now have a real engineer, and she needs to drive it before she can design. Can't you see Alisa with the sound system turned up, scaring the deer on our road?"

Maya pulled my hair and said, "Marty, you are terrible man." 

Alisa frowned, "Plumber, you can weld?"

I waved my arms, "Is dangerous to let Plumber have welding torch. Sparks everywhere..."

"Andrei is very good. You will take lessons."

The twins clustered around. "We can watch videos on the Internet of vehicles on the Playa. Get ideas."

I gave them a sinister look and said, "Andrei and I will design the new propane system to fuel the torches. On the Playa, fire in the night is important."

Maya added, "And better lights. We should find a lighting designer..."

The wave of enthusiasm was gathering force, but I said, "A mutant vehicle is not roof over our heads. We have only three weeks to be ready for the logs."

It was time to call in a chit from Doug's friend Charlie, the foundation guy. I phoned on the way to town, and he actually answered. 

"This is Marty, about the log cabin foundation. We need you. The site is ready. The logs are coming in three weeks."

"Marty, it's good to hear your voice. Business has picked up and I can get to your job in a month."

"Charlie, there are four Russian women counting on that cabin for shelter, with winter coming. They are currently sleeping in a tent and it is colder every night. They have big, tough men friends..."

"I was just kidding, buddy. The crew for doing the footings will be there Wednesday."

"I'm pleased you are so flexible, Charlie. My partner, the Professor, has a supply of special vodka that appears when good work is finished."

"My guys will be happy to hear that. See you soon."

The twins jumped out at the library, where they were making new friends by volunteering. I continued to Alisa's office, where I got a special hug and a hot kiss.

"What's going on?"

She pushed me down and cuddled in my lap. "Oh, we have much work, but I have to tell you I am so excited by the house project. Never in my life before, have I gone to bed smiling, and woke up smiling."

I whispered in her ear, "Never in my life before have I had a sexy woman with curves and muscles and terrific smarts..."

She leaned back with a wide smile. "Marty, you are an awful man. You melt us every day!" 

"I suppose I have to stop this silly kissing and hugging and do some work?"

"Yes, yes. That horrible Mrs. Wilson called again about the sewer replacement. Had another backup and wants to know when the county is going to approve my design and issue the permit. You had better go out there with your truck and tools..."

I got into my roughest field clothes, grumbling. Fixing backups was not in our scope of work, but the client is always right.

"Plumber! Wait!" She came racing out with a big kiss. "You are an angel. I love you."

The curmudgeon actually thanked me for getting her toilet back in service, and I promised a special trip to the Planning Department to light a fire.




Pasha on the Playa Pt. 03



I got back to the office just in time to find a steaming bowl of Russian soup, Maya style, with some sort of dumpling in it. I smiled and said, "Svetochka, this is wonderful!"

She looked sharply at me, "Marty, you haven't..."

"I know. Is special honorific for my special woman."

Alisa and the twins clapped as she fell into my arms and kissed me wetly. "Marty, Russian women not used to being loved so much."

More clapping. I asked, "Any new crisis about the project?"

Alisa smiled and said, "Yes. Terrible crisis. We have to decide color of metal roof! Material has to be ordered, so it can be installed as soon as cabin is up. Roofing people do not want to work in snow!"

She had a color card and we gathered round. Dark green was obvious for a cabin in the forest, but we argued about others to make sure. Tongue in cheek, I said, "Red is Russian color..."

Red died a sudden death as four pairs of eyes blazed at me. "Nyet! Do not make jokes about bad time in Russia!"

In a small voice, I said, "No more Red jokes."

The twins had me crunched between them, "Mama, Plumber needs torture, no?"

"Docheri, we love him, and even if we didn't, no Plumber, no toilet, no shower, no kitchen sink."

I had them back to back, under full attack. On the Playa, they were naked, but even here with clothes on they were a delightful handful. Screaming, twisting, tossing their hair in my face, calling me names in Russian.

Alisa said, "Save that energy for the cabin. There are many chores we must do ourselves!"

She added, "The roof will be green?"

They were tickling and I tried out my Russian, "Da."

By quitting time, I had made three more client visits, restoring plumbing at each site, and even gotten thank you kisses from two single ladies.

Alisa had me by the ear back at the office and led to her drafting table. "Look. Six pages of plans this afternoon. All billable. You are making money for us, Marty."

"Good thing, boss. Charlie's people are coming in two days to start the foundation. We need to get the stakes and batter boards in place and double check everything."

She whispered, "I have an idea. What if you and Maya work tomorrow morning. I will come for lunch and do the checking."

"The Professor will complain she is not an engineer."

"I know. But she is plenty smart enough to do this with your help. You will make her laugh. She has never used inches and feet. Will be funny."

It was funny. At dinner, when Alisa said she had a very important job in the morning and Maya had to do the layout with me, the Professor got very red in the face, swearing in Russian, and said, "What does Plumber know about surveying? It will be a disaster!"

By bedtime, she realized she was being given a nice challenge and gripped me fiercely. "Marty, I will take revenge if this doesn't work in the morning!" I tickled her rib and pinched her boob and she hummed.

We were not at work in the cold, with lots of frost on the ground, for more than a few minutes when the first problem popped its ugly head. There was a twenty-six inch drop across the site, but the cabin logs expected to go on a perfectly flat 2x6 plate bolted to the concrete.

I called to Maya, "Grab a second cup of coffee and we will go to the road and call Hank."

She looked at me from the passenger seat and said, "I told you so."

Hank was his usual bubbling self. Where the client saw problems, he saw solutions. "Marty, this happens all the time. You could form the foundation higher on the low side, but then the raw concrete shows. Better to do a step or two. We can provide extra log pieces to fill the gaps. If I get a drawing in forty-eight hours, it won't delay completion."

After profuse thanks, I hung up and she cuffed me. "Nice man. Your Russian women picked good company, no?"

The rest of the morning went fast, and Alisa smiled as she walked around eyeballing the strings. "Have some lunch while I use the level to check this."

In a few minutes, she sat in Maya's lap and munched on her sandwich. "Not so terrible?" asked the apprentice surveyor and mathematics professor.

Maya was proud and giggly. She had used the machine with the little red light and the engineer liked her work! Alisa got tickled and was giggly as well.

But she stood and said, "More bad news from Doug. The guy he bought the land from has died and his heirs say the price was too low and are threatening to sue."

"That's garbage."

"Yes. A transparent effort to coerce a payoff. Doug wants to know what he should do."

I smiled at Maya. "Professor will send the Mafia to visit the heirs."

"Not funny," she said. "In Russia, would probably happen that way."

I took a deep breath and said, "Ladies, so far, our risks are ok. We don't have a bank in our hair, so we will smile and tell Charlie and Hank that all permits are fine. We will tell Doug to hire a nasty lawyer and we will help pay."

Alisa looked stricken. "Marty, my license!"

I hugged her. "Oh, so sad. Nice Russian girl who used to have PE. Now she sits in cabin all day, knitting baby clothes..."

The two of them chased me out into the meadow and we fell into the grass, warm and dry in the autumn sun.

"Maya, he is terrible. Loses my license for me and makes a baby as a substitute!"

I poked her. "Lover, we will not risk your license. Everything is blamed on dumb plumber, even the baby!"

They pounded harder, laughing hysterically. 

Alisa had to go back to town for a client appointment. Maya and I decided to stay at the site and work on the deck extension for the laundry. 

"On your way to town, call Charlie and tell him the boards are up and ready for his excavator. Talk to him about the concrete and the mix and who is going to order."

Her dark eyes stared at me as she turned toward her car, "Plumber, I would not risk my career for anyone but you."

Maya cuffed me, "Marty, you are like bulldozer, just push problems out of the way."

I picked her up, walking to the singlewide. "Anything for my Russian women, who need a cabin for the winter!"

She was kissing me softly as we climbed to the door. Her eyes widened, "Marty, you are carrying me inside? You have bad ideas?"

I had terrible bad ideas. We were naked very quickly and rolling on the bed. Kissing and rubbing and making low growling noises backed up by my hard thing. Maya said nothing but lay back, legs wide and reached her arms for me. We hadn't had sex for a week and she felt good. My ass was grabbed and pulled tight. We lay there silently, making little moves on each other. She flexed, with an impatient noise. Which released a flood of tension in both of us. In minutes, she was wailing, "Yes, devil. More!"

I gathered her to me with a blanket over us and ignored the mess between our legs.

She whispered, "If we take nap, they will find us."

I kissed her forehead and asked, "Loving is not permitted in the afternoon?"

She sat up, rubbing her messy bottom on my chest and smiling. "Marty, you are corrupting Professor. In Russia, Svetlana would not allow."

"Dumb Plumber is just all trouble, isn't he?"

We were setting the last of the posts for the deck extension, and still hitting at each other, when the twins and Alisa arrived with dinner makings. 

Elena said, "Look, they not only love each other, they do good work together."

Maya rocked in my arms and asked, "Daughters, what is the news about bookmobile?"

"We are sworn to secrecy until announcement, but you are permitted to smile!"

I led a dance around the site, whooping and throwing bodies in the air. Finally, I stopped with Alisa on my shoulders and said, "We must be very nice to Dancer tonight. She has terrible problem with Plumber."

Dancer pulled my hair and insisted on ten minutes of lifting and posing. Maya had her camera and was taking shots of the lithe body in the fading sunlight, poised in my hands and looking like she belonged in the air.

I let her down slowly for a kiss. She said to the others. "When he treats me like that, all problems go away."

The twins were bursting with excitement at their imminent good fortune. Taking my hand, they said to Alisa and Maya, "Plumber must help us shower. Need special shampoo."

We were almost in the stall when they sniffed and asked, "Plumber, what is that smell?"

They realized what the smell was and screamed, "Alisa, come quickly!"

Pointing at my stiff member, they said, "He was doing more than building deck!"

Alisa smiled at them for a moment, then knelt and took me in her mouth. All the way in her mouth.

I laughed hard and grabbed their hair. As they complained, I kissed and used my teeth on tender parts I could reach. 

Katarina said, "I told him before, we are neglected." 

Pulling away from Alisa, I arranged the three bodies over the edge of the tub and went to work exploring liquid, quivering cunts. The stream of Russian oaths was so loud, Maya came to the door, smiling and laughing. "Yes, they need treatment, Marty. Take care of your girls and I will do dinner."

There was built up tension, and the first orgasm was not enough. I willed my cock to continue and after he extracted another fine climax from each body, they rolled into the tub, where I directed the shower hot water here and there. 

Maya and I sat together at the dinner table and watched the excitement of Elena and Katarina. I suggested the job would be over in a week when they drove the bookmobile off the road and into the river.

"Marty! That is not kind! We are good drivers. You will help us practice in snow."

Alisa climbed into my lap with a kiss and a whisper. "Marty, when we dance and you drive that big thing in me, all I can think is that everything is ok!"

"Engineer, you are my favorite ok girl."

Maya held my hand and kissed me too.

That night was the first hard frost, and when we woke in the morning, the heater in the tent was going.

I said, with my fake accent, "Is like Russia, winter coming!"

Concrete people start early. I made extra coffee and had hot mugs ready when the crew piled out of their trucks, which were piled high with plywood and form lumber. The digger was coupled to one of the pickups on its own trailer.

I walked Charlie around the frosty site, telling him that the layout was done by the Russian women and he needed to be careful about any comments.

"Damn, Marty, how did you find four women who could be models and do this?"

I gestured to Maya and whispered in her ear to tell him special secret of Russian women and not for sale.

"Charlie, Marty says there is something wrong?"

He looked at me, frowning and turned back, "No, Professor, it looks terrific, we will dig and form the footing today and call for concrete first thing tomorrow."

She kept staring at him, and he continued, "With any luck, the walls will be formed by Friday and poured Monday. Is that ok?"

She wrapped an arm around him and kissed his cheek warmly. "Charlie, we are so glad you are here. For lunch, there will be special Russian soup."

It worked. Good weather and Russian soup had us a poured foundation, complete with steps to match the slope, by the following Monday. There were kisses and an extra five thousand in the settlement check as the last of the lumber from the stripped concrete was loaded.

Alisa led me into the trees and up against a trunk. "Maya is our secret weapon, isn't she? Charlie never had a chance."

I pulled her tight. "When the cabin is up, even before it is finished, we will have a keg party for the workers."

"Yes, with live music and dancing. Russian girls like dancing, you know." The wet kiss went on so long there were catcalls from the trailer. "Hey, that is not making dinner!"

The next ten days before arrival of the cabin package were crazy. Somehow, the combination of Alisa's office work and my field calls was generating word of mouth, and the phone would not stop ringing with new business. The bookmobile grant award was announced in downtown Truckee with reporters as far away as Sacramento having come over the hill. The twins were stars with their interviews in beautifully accented English, and six youngsters who had accents of their own sitting nearby and being quoted about librarians from Brooklyn.

The Professor, with her mathematician's mind for detail, was everywhere at once. Doug called me and asked for help, saying another visit from Maya would bring on a heart attack. I said, "Doug, Maya will get off your back when the heirs have disappeared!"

Miracle of miracles, the electric utility trench marched up the road and connected power to our temporary pole. The women ordered a kitchen from a place in Reno that promised delivery and installation as soon as the cabin was up and the roofing was on. Ditto for fancy dual insulated windows that Hank recommended and would bring with the package. Alisa and Andrei had extracted promises from their contractor friends to deal with heating and electrical. My work inside the foundation to lay the sanitary lines and rough copper for hot and cold water was watched intently. "Plumber, are you sure there is a toilet above that vertical pipe?" I stuck my tongue at them. 

One afternoon, after an especially cold night in the tent, Maya appeared with a very bulky sack and said, "Plumber, you are not keeping your women warm. Need down." I dragged her to the bed in the trailer for a test. Buried under the comforter, we hugged and laughed. I asked, "We are going to get cabin closed in before big snow storm?"

"Marty, will not be funny if snow collapses tent and you are naked trying to shovel!"

We heard a noise and I pressed my lips to hers.

"Look at this. There are lumps under new comforter."

There was not enough room, but I lay the twins across the rest of us and everyone had a good toasty giggle.

I said, "I will get my bag and sleep on the futon. Women can stay inside with new comforter."

"Nyet! Is necessary we prove we are tough Russians! We sleep in tent with comforter until cabin is ready."

There were spicy meatballs for dinner and Maya poured her special vodka. She said, "We are celebrating being almost done. In Russia, everything is almost!"

The great day, a Wednesday, arrived. Hank called me the evening before and said the truck parade would leave the mill at four so that work at our site would begin as soon as they could see. If the erecting wasn't finished on Wednesday, they would sleep in the trucks and finish the first thing Thursday. 

I told him the women would insist on providing lunch and dinner and not to worry about that. I also called Alisa and suggested we invest in several bright shop lights just in case.

I set the alarm for six, knowing that was useless. Sure enough, heads were moving at four-thirty. In my toughest voice, I said, "Back to sleep! Need strength for long day."

I never had a chance. Nervous energy attacked me. My threats did no good. Maya pulled on her fleece and went to do the coffee. I wrestled with the others, trying to force calm but not succeeding. They tricked me with kisses and made a wriggling pile. 

"Guess what?" I said.

"What?" they chorused.

"Give me a kiss and I will tell you."

"Is trick!" but they kissed me anyway.

"I love you."

"Oh Marty, you are sweet for your women." They were pulling on fleeces and pummeling me at the same time. 

Over big bowls of oatmeal, I said, "Today, we are all gophers. Our job is to keep them working at full speed. Rig power cords. Charge cordless batteries. Carry things. Whatever they need."

We were outside checking the foundation and shoveling extra backfill when we heard the trucks, I had already opened the gate and they drove right to us. Hank jumped off the lead truck and walked over. "I told my dad I wasn't going to miss putting up the cabin for the Burning Man women!"

In less than an hour, the joists for the first floor had been hung and the first course of 2x6 tongue and groove flooring laid. As soon as there was something to stand on, the specialists who built the walls with engineered logs and threaded rods were at work. Tubes of construction adhesive were everywhere. As quickly as the pieces were found and laid out, someone was handing them to a worker on a section of wall. Hank and one of the foremen kept busy checking for square and referring to the plans to make sure openings for doors and windows were correct.

In between errands, the women stood with wide eyes watching their new home rise into the air. Maya poked me and said, "Marty, is too good to be true. Hard to believe house goes together like Legos."

Alisa and I gave ourselves the job of checking on the various holes and chases for electrical and plumbing. Better to find problems now than later. The crawl space under the floor was minimal and the vapor barrier was already in place. She pointed to a mistake in the plans for one of the potable water lines and asked, "What about this?"

"I found it and fixed it on my own. Didn't seem to need an engineer..."

That got me a good punch in the arm just as Hank came up. "Glad to see the engineer is maintaining discipline. Ok to take a coffee break? We are ahead of schedule. Should be done by four if we don't run into trouble."

Maya and the twins circulated with plates of freshly made pastry with unpronounceable Russian names that got a lot of appreciative thanks.

By noon, the exterior walls were ready for the roof trusses, which had been prefabbed and had factory finish. The crew didn't want to stop for lunch until this critical work was done. A great cheer went up as the ridge beam tied things together and they could relax for a sandwich. The women set out chairs and drinks and munchies on the deck. 

By seven, the erecting crew was headed down the road, full of Russian dinner and perhaps a little too much beer. Hank had a large check from me in his pocket, along with kisses from the women for the amazing one day effort.

It was decided, not by me, that all the bedding from the tent had to be relocated to the floor of the cabin great room. I concentrated on kitchen cleanup, telling the giggly ones to enjoy their new home. It was damn cold without the windows, but very nice on the blowup mattresses under blankets and down.

I held Alisa tightly, telling the others, "Dancer is special, getting us into our new cabin with no disasters."

We smothered her with love and kisses. She came up for air and exclaimed, "Marty! We did it. Have almost house before snow!

(cont'd in Part 4 - A Race Against the Weather)