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Romanov stares out of the Kremlin window. The sky is dark and the air is cold. Even though the Bolshevis dissolved the tsarists, they haven't had time to bury the last one yet.

He puts on his fur hat and goes back to his desk to continue working.

The Kremlin's power and grandeur has greatly since the days of the tsars. But despite the opulence and the size, it's still a working building in which people work. It's not a museum or a glorified palace.

The phone rings.

"Hello, comrade."

"Hello, Comrade General Secretary. Comrades Molotov, Kaganovich and Malinkov have arrived in the parlor to wait for a meeting with you."

"Tell them to come in," says Romanov, not bothering to turn around.

The door opens and one of his assistants, a young woman with an overbite, enters.

"Thank you," Romanov says to her with a nod, not looking up from his desk. "What's your full name, comrade?" he asks the girl.

"Olga Mikhailovna Tregubova, sir."

"Sir? This is the Kremlin, please address comrade."

"Yes, comrade," the girl replies politely, slightly confused.

"What are you doing?"

"Comrade Molotov has just arrived, comrade."

"You young people are always susceptible to those things in capitalist countries, you're new here, right?"

"Yes, comrade," the girl replied again.

"Well, we'll talk about that later, Olga. You can rest for the rest of the day. Always remember your duty. Now, just take me to the meeting room, comrade. After that, please leave."

Olga nods, leaves the room and takes comrades Molotov, Kaganovich and Malinkov to the meeting room. She closes the door behind her.

Him not sure what to make of her. She seems to be a dedicated communist, but she also has a bit of a Stalinist mindset. There's no reason for that, though.

Romanov was still accustomed to the help of assistant Viktor Arkadyevich Tyurkin, but he had gone to Leningrad to take up a post to increase his seniority. It wasn't an unpleasant life in the Kremlin, but it was just a little too isolated. Romanov imagined his successor would have the same concerns, despite it being the USSR after all.

"Comrade Molotov, Comrade Kaganovich, and Comrade Malinkov, I thank you for coming to the Kremlin. On behalf of the Party, I thank you for your struggle for socialism."

The three members of the so-called "Stalina Gang" were from the so-called "old guard", people who had been around since the days of the revolution. They had their faults, but they were trusted by the Party and they always did what they could to support the government.

They give their greetings in return and sit down, waiting for the meeting to start. None of them engage in idle chit chat, and they all just wait for Romanov to speak.

"Comrade Olga Mikhailovna Tregubova go and hand out my economic program and prepare coffee by the way."

This got the attention of the three men immediately.

"Her?" Kaganovich exclaims. "What does comrade want with his silly little lover?"

"I am not sure what you mean, comrade."

"Don't play stupid with me, comrade. We all know what you mean. A young girl with a long blond hair. You're not hard to spot."

"May I ask what you mean by this?" Romanov asks with a frown.

"Oh, so now you want to play the gentleman? Don't worry, comrade, we're going to get to the point. We know about your little hobby."

"My...?"

"Yes, your little... relationship with this girl. We know about how you'd spend hours upon hours locked up with her. How... at first, we just thought it was innocent. Two young, healthy, forward-thinking communists enjoying the company of each other."

General Secretary Romanov said with anger: "This is slander! Comrade Kaganovich!" Kaganovich said unhappily, "Comrade General Secretary, I don't like your assistant, and I like your surname even less in the Kremlin."

Molotov interrupted the conversation between the two and said, "Well, Comrade Kaganovich you can't talk like that just because of your surname. General Secretary Romanov, please disregard his nonsense, we old men are still too sensitive to the surname Romanov."

Kaganovich angrily said to Molotov, "You shut up, old man! You're not even of age!"

This remark caused a scolding from Molotov, but Romanov laughed.

After a while Olga Mikhailovna Tregubova returned with a stack of briefly described economic program documents and handed them to Molotov, Kaganovich and Malinkov. Tregubova then nervously went to the side to prepare coffee.

The men begin to read through the documents, going over some of them and dismissing others. The room is silent and everyone waits for someone to break the silence.

After a while Kaganovich breaks the silence.

"This is treachery and e-fascism! Increasing income inequality to create material incentives in order to increase labor productivity and abolishing the progressive piecework wage system and restoring food supply penalties and incentives? What does the state enterprise management and inspection law, the legalization of small private enterprise and the abolition of collectivized farms mean?" Kaganovich says.

"Yes, this is important. We can't have our citizens become too prosperous. If they get too comfortable, they won't continue to work hard." Romanov answers. "These measures will ensure that a worker's basic needs are met and prevent a large segment of the population from starving. These economic plans will give us the upper hand in the arms race with the US."

Malinkev says, 'These measures will dismantle the gains of the Great Patriotic War!

Kaganovich continues, "These measures contradict the Party line! The Party line is that the State should take care of everyone, that the rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer!"

"That's just the price of progress."

Marinkov countered. "This will lead to corruption, inefficiency and a weakening of the state! As a result, our imperialist enemies will gain more power and influence in the world!"

"We have to be pragmatic!"

Romanov said seriously, "The group of business leaders formed during the Kosygin reforms has taken control of the Soviet factories, and we can't have everyone removed from their jobs nor can we stop everyone from misrepresenting their targets and selling equipment on the black market! It's unrealistic and anti-human to let everyone handle the finances and expect them not to be corrupt."

Malinkev angrily said, "The rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer under your rule. This isn't what our glorious revolution was founded upon!"

"Not really, I just let the heads of the companies demutualize the SOEs to make them shareholders of the companies so that they can prevent them from selling out the SOEs. Also, this will continue public ownership to prevent them from trying to privatize. The rich are getting richer, because they are being rewarded for their work to better the people's lives. If the rich are getting richer, then the poor are getting richer as well by necessity. We all need to work to survive, that's the only way the economy works."

Molotov looked up and stared at Romanov and said, "How do you prevent the heads of these enterprises from monopolizing the wealth?"

"I never trusted these people, they would get rich one after another for the next fifteen years then work hard for corporate profit, and then be arrested and executed by the KGB and the Supervisory Commission for corruption and their property confiscated."

"You're over-reacting, Comrade Molotov. We can trust these leaders."

Kaganovich interrupted, "Trust them? They've been more loyal to their private interests than the Party, and so have their predecessors who were loyal for so many years to the former government during the time of the White Terror. We need to continue to revitalize the Party line, to prevent these egomaniacs from dominating the Party once they've already dominated the state."

"I can't accept this. But we'll stop them, the economy is a slave to politics." As Romanov finished, Tregubova carried several cups of coffee and placed them in front of him. He thanked her and continued. "Of course, to avoid renewed exploitation and oppression of workers and peasants. We will definitely not undertake privatization and market economy transformation, but the lagging nature and lack of competitiveness of the Soviet command planned economy must be addressed. That is why the Party will try to pursue an intensively technically planned economy under the Leningrad model of development."

"What does that mean exactly?"

Romanov explained: "In order to correct the problems under the command economy, the command economy lagged because the structure of the Soviet planned economy was calculated and directed by ministries such as the State Planning Committee, while the quality of industrial products and consumer goods declined due to factors such as lack of competitors and bureaucracy. Economic power had to be devolved from the central ministries to the regional economic departments, the so-called economic districts. These economic districts, unlike the ministries, were run by elected people who could make decisions in the best interest of the district and the productive forces. These technocrats will be supported by the economic zones and strive for technological innovation to compete over other economic zones, and the National Planning Commission will be gradually reorganized into a National Economic Development Commission that will simply maintain macro policy. The current hierarchy of Party, State and union bureaucracies must be changed into a micro-management system of technological specialization."

Tregubova smiled and said, "Sounds like the Yugoslavs." Everyone laughed.

Romanov waved his hand and said, "Any plan to correct the problems of the command economy must consider the masses who are suffering under this oppressive system. We will have to remember that the people are ready for change, but not yet. We will have to appeal to their technological and material interests. Our policies will be based on the ideas of the Liberator. Comrade Joseph Stalin."

The old man's face beamed with pride.

Kaganovich gulped down some coffee and said, "What, may I ask, is the difference between the Liberator's economic plan and other economic plans?"

"Oh, other plans focus on profit, which ultimately will be passed onto the working class. And, as in Comrade Stalin's socialist view of one country, the Soviet Union is the fire and eldest daughter of socialism. We would rather temporarily reduce the 20 billion rubles of foreign aid from the world revolution than give priority to maintaining the stability of the Soviet Union. Now that the capitalist countries are targeting us with trade and technical barriers as they did before 1929, the Party now needs a strategic contraction to wait for a renewed cyclical world economic crisis in the capitalist countries."

"I'm confused. What role will the working class and the so-called toiling masses play in this new plan?"

"The plan has described that the factories will gradually automate their production by machines over the next thirty years and that the working class and the working masses will not be the managers and technicians of the factories. This does not violate the principled nature of the socialist workers' state."

"And how do we prevent foreign capitalist exploitation and technology from bypassing the Soviet Union?"

"Our plan will not only help our economy, but also strengthen our military."

Kaganovich asks, "How?"

"Marshal Ogarkov's informational army doctrine will help with that." After Romanov answered, Molotov nodded and said, "We are all old people, you young people will continue to lead the motherland forward."

Romanov nodded and said seriously, "Yes, that is why I sincerely request Comrade Molotov, Comrade Kaganovich, and Comrade Malinkov to be able to serve as members of the Central Advisory Council of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union and advise the Politburo of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union."

Molotov beamed with pride and support. Kaganovich furrowed his eyebrows in thought. After a moment, he said, "Very well."

"Thank you," replied Romanov.

Molotov left and Kaganovich said to Romanov and Tregubova, "I apologize for my lack of trust. I was once young once too." He left as well.

Tregubova asked Romanov, "What shall we do now?"

"We shall continue with the plan," he said.

Now it was just Romanov himself with Tregubova, who relaxed in his chair and said, "Bring me the vodka."

"I think I'll have some more coffee instead," he said.

Tregubova frowned and said, "No, you need the drink."

"Yes, comrade." Romanov stared at her and said, "I'm getting old, and I don't know if I can get the Soviet Union handed over smoothly to my successor before my myopia gets worse."

"Don't worry, I'll bet you'll outlive everyone."

"Perhaps," he said, "but that's still a long time to leave a successor."

Tregubova lay back on the couch and stared at the ceiling. Romanov gulped down more coffee.

"What do you think of Comrade Stalin?" Romanov turned on the radio and tuned it to a music station playing the now popular "The Best Future".

"Oh, him," said Tregubova. "He's a great leader, I suppose you're very similar in many ways. Passionate, stubborn, determined."

"No, I don't want to rule the world with the help of a sickening cult of the individual and leadership politics."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I am just a technocrat, not some idol or devil. I wish every Soviet leader appeared only in textbooks textbooks, books & portraits. After all, people generally know only the top leaders." Romanov walked up to her and stared at her. "Who are you? Who am I? What are we?"

Tregubova answered, "We are the top leaders of the Soviet Union."

Romanov nodded reaching out to grab her chin and said, "Selective forgetting is best; personal adoration and smear attacks only lead to a pendulum effect, and prohibition leads to a forbidden fruit effect." He let go and continued, "The decisions of the Politburo are made by majority rule." He looked at her and said, "We are doing what must be done to defend the motherland."

Tregubova eyed him and said, "The people will follow us into battle and into victory."

"Yes, indeed they will, comrade. If we're lucky, the ignorant rabble will actually start believing their own press releases."

"I've noticed you don't wear your Party pin."

"Nonsense. You would be hard pressed to find a member of the Central Committee who isn't a dedicated Stalinist." Romanov put his hand on her face and said, "Will you undergo some kind of examination?"

"They'll probably do that soon anyway," Tregubova said as she moved his hand away from her cheek.

"Soon? Open your mouth."

"What?" she asked. "Why?"

"I want to see how many teeth you've got..."

Tregubova opened her mouth, and Romanov examined her teeth. He counted them off, "One, two, three, four... wait, five, six, seven?"

"What is it?"

"Your molars are irregular."

"That phenomenon is well-known in engineers and builders. It's not a defect."

"That doesn't mean it's a desirable trait."

And so, the two leaders engaged in a friendly contest to see who could have more rotten teeth than the other.

Romanov's fingers rubbed against her teeth as he stared and said, "You know I'm 62 and you're 23." He became close to her face again. "I could still have a ... physical relationship with you."

"I'm sorry?"

"I could still satisfy your... physical desires... if you were willing to... do such a thing... with me." He moved his hand to her chest and grabbed her hard. "You could still make me... happy... if you were to... perform a little favor for an old man."

Tregubova pushed him back and said, "Stop it! Stop it right now!"

"You don't want to? After all, we're both adults."

"I'm not a whore! I won't be bought and sold like some whore!" Tregubova said pushing him back.

"When I meet your... Physical needs, you can still do so. We can still get our food, products and money power from power. You will only... Um... Envy."

"... I will? I can't believe I'm in this situation."

"What situation is that?"

"I'm in a situation where a man has perverted me with his lies and has offered me... a deal."

Romanov laughed and said, "So, do you want to participate and have my power or be fired from me? Either way, my is in front of you right now."

"I'm... I'm not sure what to do here," Tregubova said. "What is in it for me?"

"I want adetached relationship with you. I don't want to have to deal with the hassle of children or running a farm. In return, you will get power and wealth and status. Think of the level of privilege you can have with my help!"

Now it was Tregubova's turn to laugh. "With that offer, I might consider such a thing."

"Good," he said, "Now, let's get you prepared." Romanov led her to his bedroom.

They were over fairly quickly. Romanov couldn't get it up and Tregubova wasn't really in the mood either. Tregubova wiped away a tear as the two of you left the room.

"I'm fine," she said, "I'll just dwell on this for now."

"This is the day you grow up and you become my woman. We have a shared stigma that will allow me to trust you.""What do you mean by that?"

"We're in a time where there are very few certainties. It's best to look to the future with optimism, but also a bit of skepticism. The future will be what we make it. I will help you make a future as a ruler and as a man. We will live a long time and I can't imagine a better person to share those years with. I love you, Comrade."

The two of you embraced.

"I am ready to make the next step," Tregubova said, "What do you want to do?"

"Report everything to me faithfully, I don't like it when you lie to me, and the fact that you are mine." Romanov patted her face. "We will be rich men one day, but let's get through this first step. I still have needs too after all."

"Yes, yes," Tregubova laughed, "I'm yours."

After the act, Tregubova fell asleep. She had to wake up early for work. Romanov was still wide awake. Now what?

Did he make a mistake?

Romanov poured another vodka into the glass and said, "Tregubova, do you think I should always be the General Secretary of the Soviet Communist Party with integrity? Not corrupt?"

Tregubova stirred in her sleep. "What are you talking about? Of course you are."

"Do you think I should always put the Party and the people first? Not my family? Not myself?"

Tregubova snorted awake. "Of course."

She got up and hooked her hands around Romanov's neck and kissed him, "You've been clean for the party for decades, you can get your fair share. Besides, even Khrushchev had Fultseva! Come on! Party first, then everything else."

He gave her a small smile. "You're a good person, Tregubova. You always supported me when you didn't have to and criticize when you should. You make life worth living."

She smiled, "And you make it worthwhile, you know that?"

"Yeah... I think I'll go to my office. I can't sleep."

"For what? I think you're too worried about your conscience to let your own desires consume you. Look at me, don't you want me? Come and fuck me."

"You're drunk, Tregubova. You don't know what the hell you're saying."

"You want to fuck me, don't you?" She laughed, "Well, then go ahead. I'm not ashamed of who I am."

"I could never be ashamed of you."

Tregubova looked to the side. She played with her fingers. She looked back at Romanov to see what he would do.

"Please Romanov... I want to feel your cock deep inside me. Do it like you mean it."

He walked to the side of her bed and dropped to his knees. He pulled out his throbbing cock. He put the head to her lips and she eagerly took it into her mouth, sucking gently as she looked up at him through her lashes.

"That's it my darling, that's it." he moaned as he pushed her head back and forth on his cock. He grabbed her long hair and guided her pace. He held her head still and started thrusting in and out of her mouth. "I still feel guilty."

Tregubova stopped and said, "Why? Do you really want to work until you die and then lie in the New Virgin's cemetery?" She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "You're a revolutionary, you don't need to live forever." She touched his face. "And I know how you can be satisfied, just like this. Please, just fuck my mouth and don't worry about anything else." She looked at him and batted her eyelashes and Romanov couldn't refuse her.

Tregubova's mouth was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Tight, wet and wanting. He could do this all day and never get sick of it. She tilted her head and he covered her mouth with his.

She pulled away and said, "You taste like me." He tasted like tobacco and vodka.

While he was kissing her, she started taking off her clothes. Soon she was completely naked and ready for him. He stood up and pulled away his clothes.

"On the bed, darling," he ordered. She got on her back and he stood above her, slowly pushing himself into her. They found their rhythm.

He didn't think about it before, but he was a little concerned that he would hurt her. It was still new to him, but he figured he would wear a condom. She stretched out her arms and grabbed the headboard.

"Come here," she said.

"What?" he panted.

"Come closer. I want to see your eyes when you're coming inside me."

He did as he was told and knelt above her, thrusting deep inside her. Their eyes locked.

"I think I should drink less vodka in the future, alcohol has made me violate the principles of life like this today." Romanov said with regret as he kissed her neck.

"Don't worry," she panted. "Life is short and I want you to fill me with your child before you die."

He laughed, "I don't think I'm going to die in battle."

She laughed and moaned, "You keep thinking that and we'll keep testing it out." He laughed and climaxed inside her.

They lay together on the bed as the sun rose over the city.

"So, this is what it feels like to have a family, Tregubova. I'm happy."

"I'm happy too, because you're part of mine. We're the same, we're the same everywhere." she said sleepily. She put her hands on his chest and felt his heart beating. "You should go now. I'll see you when the sun sets again."

Romanov got up to get dressed and said, "By the way, don't let anything out about us, you know how big a problem that is."

She laughed and said, "You worry too much. If anyone found out, it wouldn't be a secret. The whole city would know about it."

"That's the problem, I'm the leader of the Soviet Union. Not to mention the fact that I have a wife." Romanov got dressed to put the Soviet Politburo pin on. "People respect power and security more than they do a married man who has a lover."

Tregubova giggled and said, "I don't think they care about your wife. You're a powerful man who is out of the way. They would probably want you to bring me flowers and jewelry." She touched his chest. "Like this."

Romanov smiled, "Don't talk like that. But you're right, the people wouldn't respect me if I didn't have something to fall back on." He took her hand and placed it on his heart. "And here. Yours is here too. Don't ever forget that."

Tregubova cupped her hand over his heart and said, "I won't."

"By the way, you will move to my room in the Kremlin from now on." he said as he was putting on his tie.

"Fine." She slumped back on the bed and looked up at the ornate ceiling. she yawned. "Yes, dear, I was born and raised in of Kursk, I can't afford to live in luxury like this."

"I want you to feel special." Romanov started kissing his way down her body. He licked her belly button and said, "And you are."

She laughed and said, "Of course I am."

They spent the rest of the day making love.

Later that evening, Romanov went to his room at the Kremlin. Tregubova was already in her pajamas and sitting quietly on the bed. She looked at him and said, "I can't wait until tomorrow."

He laughed, "Neither can I, darling. Neither can I."

"I know, can you help me get a ZIL-4104?I also want to ride in the luxury car of the country's leaders."

"I'm sure I could." He grabbed something out of his drawer. "Here, put this on please." He handed her a tight black dress. "And no panties."

She rolled her eyes, but put the clothes on.

"Do I want to know why?" she asked.

"No." he said as he locked the door. "Just adding some spice, don't you like it?"

"Mmmm, no." she said as she started to take off her dress.

He approached her with a mix of anticipation and fear. He was excited, but anxious. He wanted this day to be perfect.

She approached him, her bare body ripe and ready for him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, leaning in to kiss him. He reached down and squeezed her ass.

He entered her roughly. She gasped loudly. He bit his lip to prevent himself from moaning too loudly. Tregubova's pussy was so tight, so warm, so wet. He felt as if he's being split apart, but the pleasure was too great to stop.

They fucked for who knew how long. All Tregubova was aware of was the pain and then the pleasure. She arched her back, pushing herself harder against him. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up, but then the pain started to fade into that wonderful feeling of climaxing. She collapsed on top of him.

"That was fantastic," she panted. "Can we do that again?"

He laughed, "Maybe later. Right now, I have something else in mind."

Tregubova looked at him curiously. He got off the bed and went to a drawer, coming back with a small box.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Just a little something." He opened the box and showed her a pair of diamond rings.

"I don't know what to say," she started, "I don't know about..."

He cut her off and said, "I already have a wife, so I can only give you the ring. Will you stay with me, an old man?"

Tregubova giggled, "I don't know what you mean by an 'old man', comrade. But if you think I'll accept your ring, then I will."

"Well, put it on then," he said, handing her the box.

She took one of the rings and put it on her finger.

Tregubova was an optimistic woman. She believed in the Party and the Leader, so she believed they would get married. She would move into the Kremlin, of course. They would also have more children. The world was their oyster, so to speak.

She loved Romanov. She didn't care that he was in his sixties. She knew he was still a man who kept his word and would provide well for her. He would also be there for her. She would be able to discuss her concerns with him. She would be able to rely on him. Besides, she was born in the Sixties. This was what she experienced. This was normal to her. Sure, she wanted the finer things in life, but she never got them. Why should she worry about having a husband much older than her?

A single individual is insignificant to history, except for those who are in a period of historical transitions. The only question is whether Romanov can assume his responsibility, the world is still changing. The future is in his hands.

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