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Just as Lev pulled two neatly creased napkins from the sideboard, a confident knocking at the door echoed through the apartment. “Odny minutuchku,” he called, carefully laying the napkins beside the teacups. “One moment.” He unsnapped the three locks, then shifted the iron bar that leaned against the door. It swung inward. Lev found himself facing a tall man, mid-40s, neat blond haircut, long camel-hair coat dusted with early-season snow. “Lev Davidovich, it is an honor to see you again,” said the man, extending his hand. Lev shook the hand, vigorously. He still had the unassuming strength that his children loved — and his enemies overlooked, until he chose to apply it. “Oleg Sergeyevich, I am happy to welcome a colleague.” Oleg removed his coat and folded it neatly over the back of an old-fashioned chair. The two sat at the table outside the tiny kitchen, where only one person could squeeze in. Lev went to the kitchen and brought in the whistling tea kettle with hot water. Oleg,. “Yeah, you keep thinking that.” We made our way up the long driveway. A few traces of snow still lingered to the side. I’d watched Steve shovel it off the drive a week or so ago. I would have lent a hand, only I didn’t technically have hands here. I could affect small things, with effort. So I just amused myself watching him work up a sweat and occasionally dripped little bits of melted snow down his neck. He thought it was dripping off the trees. Steve and his wife Linda had already parked the truck and gone inside when we arrived. “What are we doing here again?” Mitch asked. “Playing cupid,” I said and stuck my head through the closed door. I didn’t know why I was being sneaky; it wasn’t as if Steve could see me. Although… Sometimes, when he stroked himself while reading my messages from halfway round the world, I focused my will into making him feel my mouth around his cock head. One time I could have sworn he looked right into my eyes. I think sometimes he knew I was there, even.
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