To Love to Kill

By Honore Hunt

2022 became a dire year for the world. After Covid, we needed a break, yet in February the Russians attacked a sovereign nation claiming that the nation belonged to them.

This is a story of war, a story of love, and a story of hope. Two young people fight for survival in a world turned on its head. Along the way, they enjoy the delights of sex and exploring new erotic desires.

Irina is barely 18 when the Russians attack. Thrown into the maelstrom of hell she meets Sergey a love returned as a soldier. Irina realises the peaceful life without responsibility and care has gone. She must fight for the man she loves and from this experience grow beyond her years. Her virginity taken, Irina seeks more and more from the man she loves.

Sergey is 19 and a soldier. He falls is love with Irina and vows to protect her even at the cost of his own life. Together they cross Russian occupied territory trying to reach the safety of Ukrainian territory.

Will they make it to safety, avoiding the dangers of being behind enemy lines? Follow their journey of horror and discovery in an action packed adventure where no guarantees of life exist.

A story of young lust, of tragedy and the will to fight. These young people's courage is an example to us all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Honore Hunt
• Release date: Apr 9, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223676935

Honore Hunt

Honore Hunt is two people. A woman we will call Sophie and a man we will call Sam joined in union, writing about their perspectives on sex, fantasies, and experiences. In writing these books, it became clear that one person's perspective tells only half the story. Hence, the books include both Sophie and Sam and their unique views on the fantasies they hide and the experiences they have lived. This is a work of fiction. However, the themes are based in part on authentic experiences combined with experiences yet unfulfilled. This is a journey of partnership and a willingness to push our boundaries. To add excitement to our lives, we experimented with an open relationship. In the book series, we delve into the difficulties, obstacles, and sense of liberation of this unique approach.  We hope you enjoy the book as much as we enjoyed writing it. The recollection and creation of events added spice to our lives.

Book preview

Irina: First Love

Anew school year dawned . After mama dropped me off in front of the school, I stared at the grey drab building standing in front of me. Four years to go, would I make it I thought? Day one is always chaos. Milling children, doting parents and disorganised teachers creating a maelstrom of noise. This year I would add to the memories of previous friendships, disappointments, rivalries, and learning. Would I like the teachers? Would they like me? What about last year’s friends? Are they still my friends at all? Will the bitches and bullies harass me again? God help me! Memories, fears and anxieties seemed tucked away within the school walls, waiting to strike at the chaotic life of a teenage girl. Until this day, I cruised along on the fringes content to go unnoticed but life for me was about to change. His name was Sergey.

A year older than me, Sergey at sixteen came across as brash and showy. Handsome, yes, but I thought him arrogant and not for my taste. Even though I didn’t care for him, my girlfriend Ana did. Ana thought he looked gorgeous and wished to do rude things with him.

Despite expressing fake horror, I couldn’t help but laugh at the explicit descriptions of what she planned.

Until now, I never saw boys as anything but annoying, loud, smelly, and dirty. Sergey stood out from the rest and I only learned why later.

After greeting old friends, we lined up for roll call. Ana and I looked around for any fresh or any missing old faces. As with every year, recent additions were zero. Who wanted to come here, a polluted, stinking dirty city ... nobody? Every year, families disappeared while those remaining became a year older. Since I started school, fewer and fewer students answered roll calls.

Where is Pavel? What about Dmitri? Where are the Zolanski twins?

The answer was always; they moved away.

Because of the reduced number of students, the government allocated fewer teachers to the school. So, classes became mixed grade levels, meaning grade nine would mix with grade ten for English and History. Students in different years knew each other by sight, if not by name. Besides, mixing grade levels didn’t seem a big deal.

To ensure a community classroom feel, the teachers decided students would buddy with another student from a different grade. This meant I would sit next to an older student and yes ... I was nervous. Because shyness hindered my social development, anxiety about meeting new people made this exercise an unwelcome one. Who in their right mind would choose to sit next to me? The ugly duckling, the bitches, had called me last year, and I agreed with them. Acne like pizza topping dotted my chin, which added to a plain face and flat chest. Ugliness reinforced shyness and anxiety. All I could manage was to smile and hope not to humiliate myself, but that was impossible given how easily I blush. God! Red faced pimple kid with no boobs or shape of any kind. What a life!

Watching the pretty girls flirt and laugh created a level of envy, but why be jealous? Also, being resentful of another seemed pointless. Ana, my friend, flirted constantly with the boys and even the teachers. Ana had the confidence I lacked, and I felt grateful she had befriended me at the start of high school. The teachers announced the new arrangement attempting to convince us school with joint classes would be better than last year.

Bonding! A sense of community What BS.

Ha, these words seemed to be the new term to call seating arrangements for fewer students.

The youngest age group had the privilege of choosing seats before the older kids arrived. As instructed, I sat on the left side of the rows of two-seater tables. The older kids stood, waited and discussed choices of who they wished to sit with. When their turn came to sit, as expected, no popular kids chose me. One by one the tables in the classroom filled.

While I sat waiting, I waved to Ana, and wondered who of the diminishing students would have no other choice but me. Please don’t be a smelly, dirty boy or a bitchy girl who would make life hell, I prayed. The numbers of older kids waiting dwindled. What if no one sat next to me? The last student made a line for my table. No, no, please not Boris Olenski, please no, I thought in despair. Boris’ work with his father outside of school left him smelling of diesel fumes, which caused every girl I knew to be repelled by his skin and clothes. Everyone called Boris ‘Pong’ as he walked around trailing an odour behind him. Students would call ‘Pong’ was here. After watching the other students choose, my humiliation would be complete because only two seats remained unfilled. Classmates would laugh because either Pong would sit beside me, or I would sit alone. I would rather sit alone.

I breathed a sigh of relief when Boris strolled past my table and I turned to see him sit two desks behind.

After turning back to face the front, I noticed the seat alongside me filled by Sergey. He must have come into the classroom late. From the corner of my eye, I spotted Ana frown in my direction because I knew Ana wished Sergey had sat next to her. As soon as I looked at him, he turned to face me. For the first time in my life, a strange knot hit my stomach. As I looked into his eyes, he smiled and introduced himself. His blue eyes bedazzled me. Like the colour of the sky on a summer’s day, they twinkled when he smiled.

Hi, my name’s Sergey.

Why didn’t my voice work? Unable to swallow, the throat seemed tight, and I struggled to take a breath. My voice sounded like a croak.

Hi, I’m Irina.

When we shook hands, the warmth of the touch released millions of butterflies inside. Strange tingling sensations erupted, focussed on down there. Because of his proximity, these strange emotions continued to flare throughout the lesson. The odour of him seemed unfamiliar, a maleness not encountered except from older brothers before they moved away. This time, the scent didn’t repulse me.

Throughout the lesson, my focus kept shifting to the boy beside me, which caused the entire class to become a blur. Ana had liked him and now I knew why. Sergey at sixteen resembled a man. His face had a firm jaw covered with wisps of a beard. Thick light brown hair covered his ears and eyes ... did I mention his eyes? A slender body showed a developing muscular definition. Right through the entire class, my throat remained tight, and I endured a higher than normal heart rate and constant heat through my body. During class, these feelings felt awful, but afterwards, I would miss the sensation. The bell rang and Sergey stood, turned and smiled before saying goodbye and leaving. Incapable of speech, I remained silent, but Ana claimed later I gave the impression of a simpleton staring into the distance. Ana found my awkwardness amusing and teased me about it.

What happened to your brain? Sergey’s cute, isn’t he? she cackled, studying my face.

What could I say? Nothing ... nothing except nod weekly.

Oh my fucking god, you have a crush on him. Ha, Irina has the hots for Sergey,

Fuck! Be quiet, Ana, you are my friend. Help me please, I feel strange.

Okay, calm the farm and take control. Hey Irina! Did you feel a tingle when he looked at you?

Fuck me! What could I say?

For the entire lesson.

After class, Ana and I talked about feelings towards boys. The visions of Sergey stayed in my head, especially his eyes, his smile, and his touch. Stomach muscles clenched with each thought of him. Aroused by his image, I felt the need to play with myself. Ana had masturbated at twelve years of age after her first period and now spent long showers doing it. Taking all the hot water irritated her brothers. Her mother smiled in understanding and remained silent. Ana and I remained virgins, but talked about sex whenever a boy or man we liked appeared. Movies were the worst, thanks to the gorgeous and masculine lead men who filled heads with romance and fantasy.

Sergey: Who is this girl?

Three kid sisters annoyed me by giggling whenever I looked at a girl. The siblings attended an elementary school attached to the high school, and I regularly spoke to them at lunch. Together, we walked to and from school. Later, after school, when I had football practice, they sat and watched, waiting for me to finish. Katya was twelve, whilst Sofia and Tasha were twin eleven-year-old terrors. Yes, the three younger sisters were annoying, but I loved them as brothers do. When the girls ventured outside, I became their protector. Papa was a pilot and flew back and forth across the country, working a ten-day rotation of three days at home and seven days out. In his absence, I became a de facto guardian and enjoyed it because when papa returned; he praised me for such manliness and responsibility.

The sacrifice you make by looking after your mother and sisters Sergey makes me proud of you.

When he came home, we would enjoy one another’s company by fishing together and doing other father-son activities.

I loved soccer and became the school soccer captain at sixteen, proud to lead the school in front of all the students. Never shy, I had a certain confidence that attracted girls. Friends were jealous, but not in a nasty way, and we often double dated. Everyone knew everyone and groups of girls and boys would merge when we hung out at movies or after school. At age sixteen, I lost my virginity to my girlfriend under a railway bridge on a warm June night. Kristina and I would hang out at the soccer grounds after training, engaging in kissing and canoodling. In the summers, I would bike ride to visit her and together spend countless hours riding around the city.

One day, whilst we took a break, our passionate kissing went further than normal. Arousal emboldened my hands. Fingers roamed her body, tracing curves and bumps. She responded by placing a hand on my ass. Her breathing changed and cheeks flushed when fingers touched the hardness in my pants. The body energised from the exquisite touch to my rubbed shaft and head. Kristina unzipped me, releasing the hardness. I had never experienced such stiffness, and it felt almost painful. As she removed clothes and touched my cock, our breathing became uneven. The nervous giggling stopped, and her expression changed. Sensuality filled her gaze, desire parted her lips, and her mouth glistened with saliva. Dropping her head, eyes watched me as her tongue flicked my cock’s head. Kristina kissed the eye, and I shook to the energy pulse in the brain. Frozen to the spot, a mouth took me in. The warm, wet tongue and mouth engulfed the cock, and I shuddered at the overwhelming sensitivity rushing through the entire length. Such a sensation felt beyond my imagination. Aroused balls pulsed, and the nerve tingled cock grew thicker with blood.

Kristina’s gaze revealed glistening lips and eyes. Her voice croaked whilst the tongue moved down the shaft.

The internet taught me to how to suck cock. It’s great, no, it’s even better. The head is soft and the skin smooth, but your cock is like a rod from the steel plant.

Electricity and blood filled my organ when her mouth again enveloped it. Kristina came up for air but continued to stroke me.

Nearly there. I am going to cum. Oh, my fucking god.

No, not yet!

She stopped the perfect torture to roll a condom on my erection before mounting me. Kristina lowered her hips and guided my cock to her pussy lips and then inside her.

Oh god, that’s good. Ahh, ow, ahh, ow.

Wet and slippery, her pussy surrounded my cock, and I experienced the unique sensation of a vagina pulling on the over sensitised head. A similar sensation, but also different from a blowjob. Her walls closed around me to fit like a glove. As she rode, her pussy stretched. Riding faster, each aggressive thrust of her hips ground on the phallus inside. Hands pressed into my chest. Kristina snarled.

Fuck me, fuck me hard, oh fucking shit.

The dress hid the coupling, but panting breaths gave it away. A sensation of racing to an end built inside my cock and balls. Everything seemed over-sensitised, despite the condom. The cock’s head became hyper-sensitive, but perhaps the combination of a wet and warm pussy and the female scent sent me to the edge. Kristina’s breathing changed, and her riding became quicker and more erratic until her