I was drunk but kicking phenomenal game. Her and her friends asked me to take some pictures of them. It was the perfect opening into the group.I purchased Drago and her communist friends a shot of vodka and was making out with her within an hour of meeting her. As her friend was trying to drag her home, I asked for her number. She hesitated. I told her it wasn't a big deal and that she doesn't have to give it to me. She explains that she wants to, but her nights are very busy because of her job. I immediately figure she's a stripper or prostitute, working for the Russian mafia to pay off her debt of them bringing her to this fine country.
She explains that she's an event planner. I picture said events being meetings with johns. Come on...she's Russian, lives in Brooklyn and works nights? Has to be a hooker. She gives me her number and says we'll get together on Tuesday. It being Saturday, I figure I'll shoot her one text as soon as she leaves the bar so she has my number and ignore her until late Monday night.
I text her Monday night and we plan to meet at Nevada Smith's because she has a "social obligation" that she must show her face at. Bachelor party? Group orgy? Whatever. I get there at 7pm. She's waiting for me by the door. Smoking body. The face is average. I didn't remember much about her considering I was up until 6am drinking and singing karaoke.
She escorts me to a party downstairs. Apparently Nevada's is a bigtime soccer bar. All the foreigners go there every week to watch the games. The bar was throwing a free holiday party for all of the houligans. It was a rather entertaining experience. The party was packed with people from all walks of life. A very odd and diverse group. These tools were screaming, chanting and singing the whole night. At one point, the bartender, or cult leader, got up on a table and gave a William Wallace-esque speech declaring how these soccer fans and Nevada Smith's has taken the Manhattan soccer scene by storm. Seriously? Is there such a scene anywhere in this country? He talks about how much better 2010 will be for them, the bar and their sport. Ugh! Get back behind the bar and back to handing out free drinks, ya fairy!
I pretended to be interested in learning about soccer and asked plenty of questions about it. This is going to be so easy. Drago is eating all of this up. I mingled with her friends. Some cool. Some losers. The party wraps up and we all head upstairs. One of Drago's friends, a mildly attractive black girl, took a liking to me and started buying us shots.
The next thing I remember is that we're sitting down in a Ukrainian restaurant. A gay looking waiter brings us Euro beer and hands us menu. I throw it down and tell her it's in her hands. Let me tell you something about the Ukrainians...boy do they love their beets. During this four course meal, I must've had three different types of beet salad. It was very good, but geez, how about a little creativity. Maybe some different ingredients. The bill comes and it totals $41. Are you fucking kiddding me? I just had four courses and beers. I ponder getting on the next flight to the Ukraine and buying the country.
After dinner we head to McSorley's but it's empty. We walk down the street to a different bar. I have a feeling it was a gay bar. On one side of me there was two dudes making out. On the other side, I overheard three guys huddled up together...
Fag1: "I don't know. I'm scared. It's not that big."
Fag2: "It doesn't matter if it's big. It just has to be pretty."
God, why can't women feel the same way?
At this point I was blacked out, so the being at the epicenter of gaydom did not bother me too much. But I do have to say, I did keep my head on a swivel on bathroom trips.
We're smashed and going at it at the bar. I've been that guy a lot lately. At one point she spreads her legs and shows me her panties. Nice. I squeeze her ass. She asks me if she can straddle me. I tell her to go for it. All of the sudden, a douchey bouncer walks over...
Bouncer: "Excuse me, but there's no straddling allowed."
Me: "I'm not straddling anyone."
He did not look amused. He turned to Drago and told her the same. She climbed down off of my lap. And what the fuck? Is there a sign on the wall that says, "No Straddling Please"? I don't fucking see one. I've got Clay Aiken talking about getting banged on film to the left of me but I can't have a Russian slut sit on my lap? What is this world coming to?
We close the bar down. I get home at 4:30 in the morning. Work's going to be a doozey. Wait a minute, did I really not fuck this girl after all of this? Wow. Pathetic.
We get together at a Greek restaurant for Happy Hour a week later. This chick is pretty cool. Am I going to date her? Absolutely not. But she's decent to talk to. After some drinks she decides that she's hungry. She gives me the option. Burger or pasta. I put it in her hands.
Why the fuck didn't I say burger? After a heavy Italian meal and two bottles of wine, I'm $120 poorer. Not exactly devastating, but the bill at the greasy burger joint probably would have been $15. We head back to Nevada Smith's. We don't even finish our beer before we leave. As we stand on the street corner she invites me back to her place.
I promptly pass. Wait, what? Uh, yeah. You read that correctly. She invited me back to her place for sex and I declined. I think that may be the first time I never turned down sex. I was too lazy. I didn't want to head back to her place in Bay Ridge and then have to wake up at 5:30 in the morning to get back into the city and then on to Long Island. I didn't have it in me. I must be getting old.
After I turned her down she was begging for me to hang out. She asked to hang out the following two nights and when I made excuses to get out of them, she asked about the weekend. Wow. Although not what I was going for, declining worked like a charm.
So Sunday I drive my brother and cousin into the city. They had all of their Christmas gifts and couldn't bring them on the train. I figured I'd watch the Giants game with them and maybe meet up with Drago and crash at her place afterward.
We saddled up at SoCo for the game. After the Giants started getting blown out, we started doing shots of Jameson. I hate Jamo. This does not bode well for later. We leave the bar and head to Canyon Road, where we pounded diesel margaritas. After dinner there, my brother bailed and my cousin and I headed back to his place.
I decide to wave Mother Russia in. I text her and give her the address. She'll be over in 15. Things turned a little hazy at my cousin's place because we continued to drink a few bottles of wine. By the time she got there we were blacked out. I don't remember everything but as we were sitting on the couch, drinking and listening to music, my cousin reached over and grabbed her tit. Drago is mortified and speechless. He mutters something incoherent. She looks at me and I laugh. Somebody's not a happy camper.
I head into the bathroom and she asks if I need any help. I tell her that I do. We start going at it inside. As I pull her pants down she tells me she's got her period. Figures. She tells me that she wants to see my cock. I unzip my pants and pull my piece out. She makes a sound of approval and she unbuckles my belt. My pants drop to my ankles and she starts going to town. Quality oral. I fire off a nice shot into her mouth and she takes it all down. I exit the bathroom but she fixes herself up.
As I'm walking back to the couch I see that my cousin is passed out. I stop. I turn around. She's walking out the bathroom door. I unzip my pants again and take my penis out. Why am I doing this? I literally just fired a load about 40 seconds ago. She gets on her knees and starts to suck me off again.
I walk into his bedroom and she continues to blow me. She asks me if I can cum again. I tell her that I can. I probably can't. Intermittently she asks me if I'm going to cum soon. I keep playing it off that it will be any second. She blows me for at least a half hour. I took her tits out of the bra during this blowjob. They were horrible. Like flapjacks. Gross nipples, too.My body tells me to gag. This isn't speeding things up at all. I close my eyes and think of a happy place. Blasting is going to be a chore under these conditions.
She tells me that she wants me to cum on her face and asks if I will. Are you fucking kidding me? Of course I will. As I'm about to spurt I pull my piece out of her mouth and aim for her eye. My penis shoots the weakest jizz bomb of its career. A small spurt lands next to her nose. Why the fuck couldn't she ask for a facial on the first one?
I sit back down on the couch. I'm immediately bored with her and never want to see her again. Drago continues to try to get me to go out and wants to get dinner. I tell her that I already ate three dinners tonight so I'm not eating. I'm hungry, but there's no way I'm buying her dinner. She just sucked me off twice, I don't need to!
She's persistent. I can't shake her. I pretend to pass out on the couch. For the next hour, Drago shakes me, tries to talk to me and does everything else in her power to try to get me to go back out and come home with her. Holy fuck, can this girl take a hint? At one point she throws my sweatshirt over my face. I can't breathe. It's about 110 degrees underneath it. I'm not going to make it. Geez, they should use this tactic at Guantanamo Bay. I use every ounce of will power in my body and don't crack. She lifts it off and squeezes my nostrils closed. I flinch and pop up. I quickly pop down and pretend to pass out again.
She throws the sweatshirt on my face again. Fuck me. I hear the door close. I don't move for two or three more minutes, thinking this is a trick. I hear nothing. I get up. She's gone. Thank God. I thought she would never leave.
