Well, not really. But I'm back in Moscow. After a grueling trip I managed to get laid within a few hours of arriving. With a 9 hour time difference between CDT and Moscow I figured there was no point staring at the ceiling for half the night. Before I get into the details, let me set the stage a little.

DAY 1
After my last trip to Rio in July, I knew there had to be a better way to do Moscow than to get raped at Night Flight for $400 and go slumming at the Boar House for girls fresh off the turnip truck from the provinces. I took explorer8939’s advice and started tracking www.sextalk.ru . It’s all in Russian but I managed to struggle through it with the aid of an online translator. I also met a local dude through one of the forums who has been steering me around a little and high grading some of the opportunities I had uncovered in my research. Since I was not going to be getting to the managed apartment I was renting until 10:00 PM, I figured that I need to prearrange a date. I settle on a tall blond named Natasha and established email contact about a week in advance and had her send me some photos. It sounded like she was up for just about anything and classified herself as an escort rather than one of the club girls. I later learned that this is an important distinction but will save that for a more detail discussion later.

Once I got in the taxi, I sent an SMS message to Natasha and told her I was on the way; she responded by telling me to call her once I was in the apartment. I did just that at about 10:05 PM and she said she would be there around 11:00 PM. It’s worth mentioning ironically that the apartment I rented is located in the SAME BUILDING as Night Flight. I gave her the codes for the doors (another interesting detail for later) and hit the shower to get some to the road dust off. Via email in advance she informed me that her standard rate was $200 for two hours so I agreed that would be ok to start and would see how it went from there. Sextalk had a few ratings on her and mentioned that she was pretty liberal with the clock. It’s worth mentioning that this is one are where the Russian have for it all figured out. Sextalk.ru is a very well organized and detailed system of ratings of DNP’s (Devushkas na Programma) complete with narratives describing the encounter. Pretty insightful I would say.

Natasha arrived at 11:10 PM dressed in black with her platinum hair shining. I could see straight off that they knew how to use Photoshop in Russia as well as anywhere else. Her web site listed her as being 29 but there was no way she was a day younger than 35. Despite a few wrinkles and crow’s feet, her body was toned and hard. Small breasts with a stomach you could bounce quarters off of. I had bought some JW Black Label in Duty Free so we had a few drinks to break the ice so to speak. My apartment comes with a computer and Internet connection and we soon gravitated to it to inspect her web site. Before I knew it, she had me typing an email to an Internet Forum Coordinator that was blocking her site for a supposed policy violation. Fuck! Who was paying who here? She assured me that she would make it worth my while I played along. A few minutes later, her cell phone rang and she launch into a tirade in Russia that I had no way of keeping up with. After 10 seconds I was feeling sorry for the poor schlub on the other end of the line. It was the firs tof about 9 phone calls that nigh and it just got stranger from there. Turns out that Natasha is a working madame (sort of player-coach) who was running about 3 other girls that night coordinating incoming calls from clients and calling arranging for girls and drivers. At one point she handed me the phone to translate what a guy staying at the Ritz Carlton was asking for. I guess his thick Glasgow accent was too much for her. After another 10 minutes of this, we hit a lull in the phone calls and she turns to me with a big smile and says, “I’m sorry daaarlingk – vere ver ve?” (where were we?). I didn’t know whether to laugh or be pissed off. To tell you the truth is was kind of a blast being on the other side of the velvet curtain. So Natasha downs her drink and announces to me – “OK, now I take shower – then YOU take shower and then YOU lick my pussy – OK?

WTF? Why not? So after a couple of quick rinses, some initial BBBJ to get things warmed up, I’m getting settled in to a little DATY and guess what happens? The fucking phone rings again and she start yelling at this girl named Katya on the other end of the line again. It seems that Katya did not want to fuck the dude she was sent over to see because he had a hygiene problem or some such thing. So I’m down there “in the position” trying to ignore the phone conversation she’s having and after about 8 seconds, I sort of pause for a moment waiting for a little acknowledgement. She must have sense my getting a little annoyed because she puts her hand over the microphone and says, “Dats vundeful Darrlingk – don’t stop”. A millisecond later she back on the phone and now she’s yelling at the driver who’s supposed to take Katya to the next place while she coordinates another girl to service the smelly guy. I felt like I was in a bloody Felini Film. Of course, I’m exaggerating about how long the call was, but it seemed like along time before she hung up the phone and got down to moaning. Without getting into the details on like this for hours while we covered all the bases as far as positions are concerned. “Dahrlink, now I tink you fuck my ass”. Dahlink, now I tink we try reverse cow-BOY” (I think she meant cowgirl but what the hell). A tone point she asked me how I felt about her fucking my ass. I quickly scanned the room looking for a strap-on she might have brought in and jokingly said it was too bad she didn’t bring any toys (sorry – not my deal anyhow). But she yells out, “Vy dahrlink, Vy? Vy you no tell me you like toys? I vould have brought!!!”. She ran out to the room to the kitchen and came back with a banana unrolling a condom onto it. I didn’t have to ask what the hell she had in mind before I backed down and said I wasn’t up for it. Clearly she had called my bluff. I’m such a pussy.

And so it went until about 5:30 AM with yet more phone calls, me trying to sleep because a of a 10:00 AM meeting the next day, and her laying in the tub taking a bath while on the phone barking orders at the driver and her three girls. She almost talked me into getting dressed and coming down to meet the girls but I refrained. She finally left me just before 6:00 AM and told me to call her again because she would give me a big discount on the next session. But I’m not sure I can take another session of “Porn Night in Moscow”.

So that was Tuesday night. Today is Thursday night and I am getting ready to go out to dinner with Vladimir (my local tour guide) and Irina the high priced exclusive escort. Vlad is determined to have me sample the full range that Moscow has to offer. He’s sure he can broker a better deal than $200 an hour. I sure fucking hope so. I still owe you a report on Day 2 (Wednesday) and my trip to the BDSM sex shop with Vlad as well as my late night romp with Julia. I also have some of Natasha's photos but I've gotta run just now

Thanks for a informative post, looking forward to the next one.

Stock Photos of Natahsa. I have to work on the ones I actually took. I think I may have gotten a few of my owen body parts in there as well.

RJ, thanks for the info, i have always been curious about behind the curtain.......years ago, i almost took a job in saudi, but i figured i would want to know what was behind the veil......

keep the reports cumming.....

"player-coach" I like that.

Day 2

Day 2 was kind. I suppose it wasn’t really day 2 because it was really my first day there so I was pretty well screwed up. My new friend Vlad (local Muscovite who speaks perfect English) decided to look after me and to introduce me to the insiders view behind the curtain when it comes to mongering tin Moscow. Between him and Explorer8983, I think I have hit the jackpot. But let’s get this straight – there are no bargains in Moscow. You can pay less money but you are going to pay for it in extra trouble if you don’t speak fluent Russian. And I DON’T. I know enough to carry on a polite conversation and discuss the weather, but that’s about it. What I did get today was a great glimpse into how complex and stratified the mongering opportunities are here in Moscow. Foreigners barely scratch the surface without paying through the nose unless you are luck enough to have a guide…… like me. And even then it’s not cheap. I will try to make a more updated discussion on the subject at a later date; it’s quite interesting.

So on Wednesday night Vlad decides that I need to visit his favorite BDSM sex shop and meet some girls who work there and want to practice their English. He tells me that one of the girls has come off a breakup about 6 months ago and has been complaining that she can’t get laid. Now, this is another interesting phenomenon that I have described before in that Moscow women out number men by a significant margin. Take out the drunks, the gays, and bums and these girls are in serious competition. The hitch is that the ones who don’t speak English are seriously inhibited and typically won’t engage an Algliski guy unless introduced by a local Russian speaker. Are you seeing where I am going with this? Vlad is a connoisseur of BDSM and is not the least bit interested in screwing these girls (who are his friends) and is more than happy to introduce the charming foreigner who speak a little Russian.

OK, so back to the story – We get to the sex shop which is located about 5 stops down the red line from Arbatskaya. The place is full of whips, chains, manacles, you name it. Vlad introduces me to a nice tall blond with short hair named Anya who he tells me is a “sexologist”. At first I think he’s kidding but later I learn that she spent years at med school and is really a psychotherapist specializing in BDSM issues. Go figure. So Vlad makes the intro and asks me to spend the next hour or so speaking only English to Anya and to engage her in conversation. So I spent the next two hours talking about BDSM with this cute Russian blond in clinical terms while he goes off and discusses the finer points of BDSM with some of the other shop enployees. I gotta tell you, I had no idea BDSM was so complicated. Not my cup of tea mind you, but hey who am I to judge? Anya tells me that she herself only likes light bondage once in a while and will wear handcuffs during sex but just not attached to anything.- gulp. She went on to tell me that there is going to be a BDSM / Festish party sponsored by the shop on Saturday night and would I like to come? She will be representing the shop part of the time and will be wearing a red latex suit. Gee wiz, let me think about this a minute. On the one hand whips and chains and freaks and on the other hand, Anya in a red latex suit. So guess what I bought a ticket to for Saturday night? Should be interesting.

After about two hours of chit chat about BDSM, Vlad and I decided to hit the road back to the center of town. Vlad walked me by my apartment and mentioned something about hitting a massage parlor. I would have joined him but I had already arranged to meet Helena, who is one of Moscow’s better known escorts. Check her out at http://www.escort-helena.com/ . She arrived at about 11:30 PM and has a strict “no tell” policy so I promised to honor that and not talk about our session. What I will say was that it was nice. Not mind numbing like Natasha, but warm and nice. She’s a fascinating gal and I think the best part of the session was not the sex, but the fabulous conversation. We ended up making eggs and toast at 4:00 AM and she told me stories about her 16 years as a pro starting in the early 90’s during Perestroika. Like Natasha, she ran a dozen girls but ended up going solo because of problems with the mafia, the police, and asshole Americans (Doh!). THAT was an eye opener. You think you have business problems? Try having the Chechins come over one day, kidnap all of your girls, take them out to the country and gangbang them for the weekend and threaten to slit their throats if they don’t get used to the new regime. Anyhow, pretty interesting stuff. She took it easy on me rate wise so it was pretty amicable. Besides, I supplied the eggs and toast. What she did confirm to me was the type of girls who end up at the Tochkas and at the Boar House. I’ll go into more detail on that when I update the discussion on Moscow. Suffice it to say that I probably won’t be going back to the Boar House anytime soon.

Wait till you hear about Day 3.....but it's 4:00 AM here and I am seriously jet lagged. I'm going to go try and close my eyes for a few hours. BTW - Helena's real name is Julia so don't mind the inconsistency.

(Message edited by riojake on October 04, 2007)

Day 3

Damn jet lag had me dragging my ass all day long. I suppose the fact that I only got about 3 hours of sleep during my night with Julia (Helena) didn’t help. Vlad suggested we meet up for dinner with Irina who is one of his “friends” who happens to be on the program. We met up for a beer at 6:30 PM near my apartment and wandered over to a nice Thai restaurant near Lubyanka Square, the new home of the Russian FSB former home of the legendary KGB. A rather humbling sight.

By the way, Moscow traffic is just like Rio de Janeiro traffic. For those of you, who have never been to Rio or Moscow at rush hour, imagine Manhattan with double the number of cars. I don’t think Stalin and his planners ever imagined there would be so many cars in central Moscow. Knowing this, Vlad parked the car and suggested we walk the final half kilometer. We got a table and waited for Irina. Vlad explained that while Irina was on the program, she was also a full time student and a good friend of his though he had never had intimate relations with her. Like Vera, her English skills were pretty basic and could use the practice. Soon she arrived and joined us. Like the attached pictures show, she’s a little angel of 21 years who is skilled in dance with a hard body to match.

She was wearing low cut blouse that revealed a gorgeous cleavage and I wondered what kind of bra she must be wearing to get that effect. Dinner was nice and again, Vlad disappeared for about an hour and allowed is to get to know each other switching from English to Russian, taking turns teaching each other. Talk about foreplay. Vlad returned about 9:00 PM and joined us just in time for desert and coffee. We paid the bill and Vlad offered to give us a ride back to Irina’s place near the Chisty Prudy (Clean Pools) district. Obviously it had been assumed that I wanted to take this rendezvous to its logical conclusion.

Like most soviet era buildings, the common space of her apartment building resembled a housing project building in any big US city. Dark, dingy and a little scary looking. But once past the double doors we entered a clean bright and efficient apartment. The main room was set up with a bed at one end and a sitting area with TV at the other. We set down on the couch and she offered me tea which I accepted. The Russians like tea. Tea is good. After 15 minutes of chit chat, Irina offered me towel and asked if I wanted to take a shower. I took a quick rinse and retuned to the main room wearing the towel. Irina touched my shoulders, kissed my neck and lightly bit my nipple. Then she excused herself and went to the shower while I sat there on the couch watching some documentary about the life of Pushkin, the famous Russian poet. When Irina returned, the mystery of the bra was solved because she approached me with the towel around her waist and both breasts were standing tall and firm. God what I would have given for a camera just them. I don’t ever remember tits like that when I was 21. Mind you, I didn’t know any dancers when I was in college either.

She took me by the hand and led me to the bed and let me explore her body. What a work of art. Both soft and hard at the same time. We hadn’t discussed a thing about sex in advance so I proceeded carefully not wanting to spoil the mood. It was a great experience; so unlike the sloppy classless encounters with the Boar House girls. This was like a dance carefully planned and executed by Irina to make me feel good. I offered to giver her an orgasm but she declined telling me that she had am economics paper due next week and had several hours work to do. An orgasm would only make her want to sleep and she could not afford that at the moment. Where my experience with Natasha had been a journey of mutual satisfaction, the experience with Irina was for my pleasure only. Clinical but not crass. GFE but just barely. She was sweet and engaging but she was professional enough not to get too close. This was, after all, a business transaction. And she was, after all, a Russian - lest we forget.

After a few hours she let me know in the subtlest of ways that the session was over. What a pro. I realized that we had not talked about money beforehand and remembered that Vlad told me she was expensive. I asked Irina how much I should give her and she smiled and said that I should giver her whatever I felt I wanted to give. Damn, this girl was good.

She walked me to the door, kissed me with DFK and sent me into the rainy Moscow night. Well, she actually offered to help me flag down a taxi but I declined saying that I would be ok.

What a sweet interlude with a delicate flower. This was one for the books. I realized that I was entering a facet of the Moscow mongering scene that is reserved for insiders. Girls like Irina don’t advertise; they are referred.

As I type this, I am getting ready for my date with Elena. She is not s working girl, just a nice professional woman whom I was introduced to by a mutual friend.

Simply outstanding... Great work... I still have ZERO interest in ever mongering in Russia, but your trip report is amusing, yet informative... I can't wait to hear about the rest of the trip...

Brassy,
Thanks for the encouragement.
I would not recommend making a mongering trip to Russia unless you are already here on business and someone else is paying your hotel bill. EVERYTHING here is VERY expensive. I had a wild weekend but it's Monday morning here and I've got work to do. I almost forgot I am here in business! Will write more later.
Jake

Days 4-6
Against my better judgment, I went on a non-pro date on Friday night with Elena. I first met Elena last June at a business gathering of Russian and expats. Something clicked between us immediately. Her English is quite good so it was fun to talk about life in the New Russia. Elena works in commercial real estate and was in Investment Banking during the 90’s. She’s in her late 30’s but has a smoking hot body. We had a dinner together back in June but the evening ended in no more than a kiss. At the time I thought it was just as well considering the distance. Besides, what the hell did I want with a girlfriend? It’s not like I don’t know good and well that free sex is much more expensive than paid sex. However, like a dickhead I sent her and email a few weeks ago telling her that I was coming to Moscow. And sure enough – after a few smoking hot encounters, I was going out on a date.

Let me cut to the chase. We went for an excellent seafood dinner, drank some good wine, and sat up till 4:00 AM talking and then went to bed with no sex. Yawn. We slept till noon on Saturday and lingered over eggs and Russian black bread with cheese in my apartment. I walked her to the Metro and kissed her good-bye. I will probably never see her again. Just as well.

So why am I telling you this? Like many countries that are rife with mongering opportunity, Russia also has intelligent, educated and goal oriented women who are aggressive and confident. They are completely capable of breaking your fucking heart so be careful. I could have very easily fallen hard for this girl and it would have been a disaster.

On a lighter note, Vlad had invited me to this BDSM party on Saturday night. As I may have mentioned in an earlier post, I am not into BDSM myself but Vlad had been such a champ in showing me around and introducing me to local working girls that I felt like I owed him the courtesy of going with him and his Dominatrix (yes, you heard it right) to this BDSM party. Vlad’s instructions to me were to take the metro out to the burbs and to meet him at the station at 5:00 PM. He told me that since this was a “fetish” themed party I was going to have to come in some sort of costume. Vlad planned to dress me up in a 2 Star KGB General’s uniform so I should bring dark trousers, white shirt and black shoes – he would take care of the rest. Hmmmm….. uniform fetish. OK.
I got to the station at 5 sharp and saw Vlad standing by his car waving me over. Vlad is a marketing executive and judging by the way he dresses and acts, I would say he does pretty well for himself. He can probably afford any car he wants, but he chooses to drive around Moscow in a 15 year old Lada. Mechanically it’s perfect but from the street it looks like a piece of crap. What a hoot. In a city that took delivery of more Mercedes S-Class cars that any other in the world, this guy is still driving a Lada – no wonder he’s into BDSM. He must enjoy the pain. So I get in the car and we drove through a non descript neighborhood in suburban Moscow. According to Vlad these apartments, which resemble housing projects were built during the Khrushchev era and are very simple. That turned out to be an understatement. We arrived at the home of his Mistress and he led me into the dingy ground floor apartment. I was trying really hard not to insult this guy by asking too many awkward questions about the relationship between this guy and his lady so I tried to play things pretty cool. All questions were answered whne after a few introductions Vlad show me a tour of Svetlana’s “studio”. If anyone saw the movie “Pulp Fiction”, you might remember a scene near the end when Bruce Willis and Ving Rhames are led to a Dungeon for an encounter with “the Gimp”. This place was very similar. There were whips, chains, tables, apparatus and devices everywhere. There was a dildo in a rack on the wall that must have been the length or my arm from fist to elbow. What had I gotten myself into? One minute I’m telling you that I’m worrying about getting my heart broken by Elena, and two hours later I’m in the dungeon of Svetlana the Russian Dominatrix!

Vlad must have sensed my uneasiness and quickly made light of the gear by making jokes. But I could tell that some very serious shit went on in this place. Hey, I am as open minded as the next guy but this was getting a little spooky. Svetlana herself did not speak a word of English. Vlad had excused himself to go back to the car to get his costume while I stayed behind to snoop in the studio. I handled a heavy leather whip and bristled at the thought of what a piece of equipment like this might do to a guy. Just then, Svetlana came into the studio speaking quickly pointing to my jeans and saying the word “shtanee” which means “trousers”. Holy shit, was she suggesting I take off my pants? Christ now what? Was she going to beat me? She must have seen the look of surprise on my face because she slowed down and repeated her request. It took me a moment to figure out what she was asking and I was relieved to learn that she wanted to know if I was wearing the jeans I had on to the party or was I wearing something else. She wanted to help sew the red stripes on my grey pants to make my KGB General’s uniform more authentic. I was starting to feel like a bit of putz as I laughed to myself and dug the dark grey trousers out of my bag and handed them over. She turned out to be a wizard with a needle and threat before I knew it she had a couple of red stripes sewn on. Vlad had returned with the General’s tunic and red tie so I modeled the whole “get up”. They were both pleased as hell with the result and I waited patiently as they both got dressed for the party. Vlad had taken a pair of jeans and jean jacket and literally shredded them to where they barely held together. He put them on over glittering silver tights and topped it all off with a heavy leather dog collar with matching chain. Hey, whatever turns your crank. Sveta had on the usual Dominatrix uniform which I will leave up to your imagination to describe.

The party itself was a lot of fun. It was purely a fun affair and thee was nothing strange going on apart from some pretty interesting costumes. The party was held a night club that the group had rented for the night and there had to be 200 people. What I did not realize before was the popularity of latex. There had to be two dozen women in latex suits including one red headed beauty in a black cat suit. Meow. Of course, as the token foreigner, everyone thought it was fun to have me in the KGB General’s outfit. Everyone who spoke any English at all came up to talk with me and practice and offer their compliments on my costume. Unfortunately, there were no cameras allowed in the place as you might have guessed. But the Vodka was flowing and I was feeling no pain. If you recall, one of the reasons I agreed to come to party was an opportunity to take a run at Anya. It wasn’t clear to me if she was a working girl in addition to being a therapist. She showed up about 10:00 PM and I was disappointed to see that she had not worn her red latex suit after all. No matter – it turned of that she was NOT on the program and that she had a boyfriend so I didn’t waste much time on her. After Friday night’s “date” I didn’t need another platonic evening. Vlad and Sveta were up on the dance floor so I wandered over to the bar for another vodka and beer. In Russia that’s lethal combination because the beer is quite potent with a much higher alcohol content than we are used to. By midnight I had had enough and did not put up a fuss when Vlad suggested is was time to go. Luckily, my apartment was right along the way for him so he and Sveta dropped me off around the back. It was 12:30 AM on Saturday night and I was full of Vodka and beer. I wasn’t sure I was up for meeting anyone new in my condition so I called Natasha to see if she was up for a replay of Tuesday night. She didn’t hesitate and told me she was going to give me a special discount from the other night if I would “kiss her pussy” again. You know, the comrades must not be into DATY because while I consider myself competent, I’m no Gene Simmons. In less than an hour, I was back in familiar territory. While I was still slamming vodka, Natasha was squealing with glee to see that I still had some of my duty free JW Black. It was Porn Night – the Sequel.

Natasha staggered out about 4:00 AM when her driver arrived to collect her. Oh, I almost forgot – when she arrived and demanded that I “kiss her poooosey”, I told her I would do so ONLY if she turn off her cell phone. No more God damned interruptions from hysterical girls and horny customers. “But dahrlink”, she said, “what about my beeeeeznus”. We laughed it off and she reluctantly agreed. It was nice to have her full attention for a few hours and she did not disappoint.

Sunday was a Day of Rest. No sex but lots of beer. I hooked up with some friends and watched the World Cup Rugby matches on TV.

Day 7 - Monday
Wow, it?s been a week since I posted anything. And what a week it?s been. After a day of rest Sunday, Vlad sent me a an SMS and wanted to know what I was up for. I jokingly asked what was left on my choice list and he suggested that we either go for a massage or that I hook up with Vika. To tell you the truth, after the treatment I had gotten so far from these girls, I really wasn?t all that interested in getting the whole massage experience although I was still a little curious. According to the posts on the Russian sites, the erotic massage places can be pretty decent if you like the Thai style massage or some variation on that. The thought of having some nice young pussy slithering up and down my body was enticing I must admit. But after some discussion, Vlad convinced me that I should give Vika a try. She has a ?working apartment? so that would be interesting as a comparison to the lovely little minx named Irina the Thursday before. Vlad warned me, however, that Vika spoke absolutely no English what so ever. I wasn?t too worried however, as my Russian was slowly coming back and I figured that in this particular pursuit, I didn?t need to know too much of the language. After all, it wasn?t like I was going to try and sell her Encyclopedias. So Vlad said he?d call me after her got a hold of Vika and arrange a time for us to meet.

After about 30 minutes, Vlad called back and said that Vika was up for it but that she didn't want me to come to her place. Apparently, Vika had a room mate that was in the same business and used the apartment as well and operated a regular ?conveyor belt?. Vika didn?t feel comfortable bringing a foreigner into the place under such conditions and had suggested we do outcall for the same price. Heck of a deal. In fact, I suggested that the three us get together for a light dinner to break the ice so to speak, similar to what what we had done with Irina. Vlad thought that was a great idea and suggested that we meet at Caf? Pushkin around 8:00 PM. Being Monday night we should not have much trouble getting a table and it was no more than a 5 minute walk from my apartment. At 7:50 PM. I got an SMS from Vlad telling me that they were in the bar waiting so I hurried my ass up and headed to Caf? Pushkin.

Anyone who has been to Moscow has heard of Caf? Pushkin. I would say it?s roughly the equivalent to Satyricon in Rio de Janeiro. Fashionable, yet over-priced. But perfect for making a whore feel like a Queen (if you know what I mean). I arrived at CP and saw Vlad and Vika sitting at the bar. Vika was wearing a tight skirt, a light sweater and corset underneath ? holy crap. I?m not normally moved by undergarments but this was something else. Vika stood about 5?8? and while not at all fat, she had a serious frame. The corset gave her this fabulous hour glass shape that was absolutely breathtaking. After a few minutes of awkward intros, the hostess came and told us she had a table. As we walked through the restaurant, every pair of male eyes was fixated on that lovely corset and the lucky schmuck that was going to ?tag? that ass tonight. There was something oddly thrilling about that and I was suddenly not the least bit interested in dinner. Vlad order Beef Stroganoff just to torture me while Vika nibbled on a salad. I ordered a salad as well and could not take my eyes off her corset and the fabulous cleavage it created. During dinner I could see other guys at nearby tables also sneaking glances at the lovely Vika. She commented to Vlad that she also noticed the glances and it was turning her on.

We must have won the record for fastest dinner at Caf? Pushkin because by 9:30 PM, Vika and I were waving good-bye to Vlad and entering the front door to my apartment. Once inside, I took her sweater and now enjoyed the full effect of the corset. Wow, what a shape. I got drinks and we settled on the couch for some small talk. It became very apparent that this corset was more like a straightjacket for Vika. This corset was made by a women I had met at the BDSM party over the weekend. Crafted of the finest satin and leather with shaped steel stays for that perfect hourglass shape. I asked Vika if I could remove the corset she suggested that I help loosen the apparatus and give her some breathing room. That seemed better because she got very frisky after that and went straight for a CBJ. I didn?t have the heart to tell her that she wasn?t going to get anywhere as the CBJ for me is a waste of time, especially in one of those extra thick Russian condoms. After a minute or so, I gave her the ?tap? and tried my best to explain the CBJ was no good but that I appreciated the effort. She flashed a look of understanding and whipped off the raincoat and pulled out a small spray bottle of something. I think she told me that it was no problem because after the job she could just spray this stuff in her mouth and it would kill whatever dose I might have. At least I think that?s what she said. Anyhow she went back to work and I must say, this girl knows how to give oral. I am talking world class pro here. Very, very nice.

We migrated to the bed and sampled the rest of the menu. She must have been about 35 years old which is older than most in her line of work, but she was in great shape. Very well toned although you could tell gravity was doing it?s job on a few parts of her anatomy. Again, unlike the girls from the Boarhouse or even Night Flight to some extent, it was pure professionalism. Very skilled at doling out pleasure and being very attentive to me. The unexpected treat was the pillow talk between sessions. Because she spoke no English at all, I really had to stretch my Russian skills to communicate with her and she was patient with me and allowed me to muddle through. there is clearly a cultural difference between the girls on the program in Russia and places like Brazil. While even the youngest GDP's in Rio seem quite proficient, a heck of a lot of younger DNP's (Devushka na Programa) in Moscow don't have a clue what they are doing. There's a saying amongst Russian Mongers what deals with the "wiping of other people's noses". Now I see why they have the saying.

Pretty soon we were on to round three which resulted in another spectacular BBBJ. This time, I literally had to push her away and tell her to stop. Luckly for me the Russian word for ?stop? is the same as it is in English.

About 1:00 AM we had pretty much wound things up and she was headed out the door for a cab. She was quite happy with $200 and slipped me her phone number telling me to call anytime. So far, this Russian trip was shaping up far better than any that had come before. Admittedly more expensive than Brazil, but getting better. The mongering life behind the veil in Russia. Vika was shy about me taking photos but encouraged me to go to her web site and use those stock photos. I maybe because of her age she was a little self conscious about my poor photography skills. But, I will respect her wishes and hope you enjoy a look at Vika.

RJ: any pics that you have taken....the photoshop versions from the net are great, but what is real life.........do they shave thier legs with a sickel????

i have been in st. petersburg before, i have seen some drop dead beautiful women and some women, i was not sure if they were women......

it was funny, if the tour bus turned left, the buildings and roads were nice, but if you looked to the left or down streets the bus did not turn....it was a little different to say the least....but i bought some 5 star vodka.....

thanks for the updates....sounds like you are enjoying yourself....da???

Diversity,
You cynical, cynical man!!
But OK - fair enough. Real is real. Unfortunately, Vika's fears were well founded because I am a crap photographer. Below are the only photos of Natasha that actually turned out. Upon closer inspection, you will notice that Natasha has almost no tits at all. In fact - that's a segue to a funny story. Before coming to Moscow I looked carefully at the photos on her web site and at one point I wondered whether she looked "too" good and asked her (in the nicest possible way) if perhaps she might be a transsexual masquerading as a woman. As you can imagine, she did not think that was funny as all. In fact, the first time I met her she whipped out a fake mustache while we were in the lift. What a joker.
Yes, I am enjoying myself tremendously. But the work is getting in the way of the mongering. I'm up early to catch a plane to Ufa for an overnight trip. There's god damned snow on the ground and I'm not sure we're going to get out of here. Time to go home I'd say.

On the bright side, I'm going to be in Rio in exactly 33 days!!!!!!

When I get to the hotel in Ufa, I'll post the story of my trip to the Real McCoy on Saturday night - I think you might enjoy this one.

Photos: Natasha 01 02

Riojake,
you are right about Diversity, he is cynical, crafty, cunning, all of the "c" adjectives rolled into one guy. But he has a heart full of gold, no wait I think a Garota took it, and a pocket full of Condoms. Take him with you next time and perhaps leave him with Putin for me, it's bound to help any Cold War Movement underfoot.

CFK

Day ? 10, 11 ?whatever. Who the fuck knows anymore?

After more than a week in Moscow, Jake Jr. was getting pretty tuckered out. After a few days of rest from mongering I figured it was time to get back at it. The one thing I had not tried yet (besides a Massage parlor) was one of the amateur hang outs and of course the Boar House. After another perfectly platonic Friday night with Elena (can you believe this?) I was ready for some sex on Saturday night. It had snowed off and on Thursday and Friday so the mood of the town seemed to have changed. Summer was most definitely over and the girls were out on force with their knee length boots. Let me tell you, that is a sight. Summer in Moscow is one thing, but when these girls get dolled up to go out on the town, it is something to see. There is a saying in Moscow comparing Moscow women to other European women - They dress for work, the way others dress for a party; and they dress for a party the way other women dress for a wedding?? their own wedding. I guess it loses something in the translation.

I went for Saturday afternoon beers and snacks with my old buddy Al and his new Russian girlfriend. This has become a problem because apparently he?s temporarily suspended mongering operations. Russian girls are VERY jealous and Yulia is no exception. She?s a very nice looking girl from Tatarstan with pale skin, black hair but European features. Absolutely striking. Al tells me that unlike girls who are Moscow natives, that Yulia fucks like there?s no tomorrow. This is a point of contention and a bit of a conundrum in Moscow. While the native Moscow chicks are absolutely wonderful to look at, they have a reputation for being rather cool and unadventurous in bed. Even when they are honestly trying to fuck your brains out, they just don?t seem to have the same enthusiasm. On the other hand, girls from the regions like Bashkortostan, Tatarstan, Ukriane, Moldova, etc, etc, are reputed to screw like minks (not that I?ve ever actually screwed a mink). Al was quite happy to tell me that he was looking forward to a night of sexual delights with Yulia who clearly had the body of a gymnast. I wish to hell I had a picture of her because she?s very striking. By 7:00 PM I could tell that Al and Yulia were getting bedroom eyes so I excused my self and went back to the flat for a little snooze and shower.

I woke up just after 10:00 PM and decided it was almost time to wander over to the Real McCoy. Since I did not have mongering partner for tonight, I wasn?t sure how things would work out. Mind you, I had been in Moscow for over 10 days by now and my Russian was getting halfway passable ? especially when assisted with a little frozen vodka. I after a shower and shave, I got dressed and just before heading out the door to the metro I decided to take a quick shot for the road. I opened the door to the freezer and pulled out my bottle of Russian Standard Platinum (Vodka) and poured myself a shot. It oozed out of the bottle like syrup into the glass as it filled up ever so slowly. Downing it down in one I could hardly feel a thing as the vodka went down. Damn, it was getting to be time to head back to America. This was getting too easy.

I headed out to Tverskaya Street and passed Night Flight, the early shift of girls were streaming in the front door eager to pay their $40 and try their luck in finding a trick. I silent cursed myself and promised that no matter what happened, I was not going to go into NF tonight ? no matter what. If push came to shove I would go to the boar House if I had to but no over priced Night Flight ? famous last words. Soon I descended the steps to the Pushkinskaya metro station and caught the purple line train for one stop to Barrikadnaya station and walked the 500 meters to the foot of the Stalin era building at Kudrinskaya square. The Real McCoy is a great bar. It reminds me of a road house saloon because the bar is large and imposing and the floors are done with what seems like unfinished timber in a very casual manner. The area in front of the bar is pretty wide open and doubles as a dance floor once things get going. There is a small row of tables on the other side of the dance floor along the window which always seems to be occupied with couples gazing out onto the street. After I checked my coat (they do coat check VERY well in Russia) I headed over to the bar and got a beer. Things really did get off to a slow start and I ended up talking Rugby with a group of Brits until more local talent showed up. The Real McCoy is known as a place to hook up for meaningless sex so if you are there after 11:00 PM on a weekend you are considered fair game. The Brits were getting pretty hammered and asked me to join them in vodka shots as they just ordered a bottle. After a few shots, the mates decided to head off to a strip club as they had been there since 4:00 PM and were getting pretty sloppy. Russian girls recognize the signs and tend to stay away from the sloppy guys so their leaving was a good thing.

When the lads headed off, they had left the bottle which still had about four fingers of vodka left. The bar tender asked me if he should take the bottle or leave it and I said that such wonderful vodka was too good to waste, but I would appreciate a new frozen shot glass and an ice bucket to put the bottle in while I sipped my beer. As the music got louder and louder I noticed that I was being watched. A table of girls whom I had not noticed earlier were pointing at me and talking. One of them came up to me and asked if I was a foreigner and was I going to drink the rest of that bottle by myself? I said something lame but they asked me if I would care to join them under one condition ? I had to bring the bottle to the table and that I had to speak English to them. Well, that was two conditions actually but who?s counting? Turns out that these little lovelies were from Kiev and were visiting a college friend who was studying at MGU (University of Moscow). At first, they didn?t look like anything special but I soon realized it was because unlike the Moscow girls, they were not decked out to the 9?s. But they were fun and wanted to practice their English and helped me work on the bottle of vodka. I asked one if hey wanted to dance and then another and you can pretty much tell where this was going to end up. I was taking a shine to Dasha who was by far the best looking of the three; sort of a 22 year old Maria Sharapova look alike with high cheek bones and long straight hair. But something was not quite right and she was sort of fading in and out. I soon realized that this girl had had waaaay too much to drink and that the vodka was not going to help. Well, you guessed it. Within about 5 minutes she was getting sick. Right there at the table. Great. Just fucking great.

One of her friends took her into the ladies room (actually a co-ed bathroom with individual toilet stalls) and tried to clean her up but she started crying and making a scene so the whole posse decided it would be best to just take her back to the apartment. So they left. Just like that. They fucking left. So here I am at 12:30 AM or so sitting at the table by myself again with a sliver of vodka and half a beer. Going to the strip bar was starting to sounds pretty good right about now. I knew there was a reason why I didn?t go after young amateurs. I had gotten my coat and given up the table when one of the posse returned to the bar and walked straight over to me. She said she was sorry about her friend and how it must have ruined my evening. I told her not to worry about it. She was sort of loitering and there was a bit of an awkward pause. I broke the ice by apologizing and telling her that I didn?t remember her name. She told me it was Marusha (Ukrainin for Mary I think) and that she was not ready to go home yet. So I re-check our coats, bought her a few drinks at the bar and pretty soon we were slow dancing and doing the pelvic grind. I asked her where she was staying and she said that she was supposed to stay with her frineds back at the MGU dorm but now that Dasha was sick it was not going to be much fun. Being the gentleman that I am I offered to let her stay with me in my fabulous apartment on Tverskaya and she accepted gratefully asking if thee was a couch she could crash on. Not exectly what I had in mind but WTF.

We managed to catch the last train back to Pushinskaya station and walked the last block or so back to the apartment. I gave s smirk as we passed Night Flight and she looked a little puzzled why I gave the smirk and I told her that we had just walked past the legendary Night Flight. She stopped dead in her tracks and begged me to take her inside. I scoffed and told her to forget it but she pleaded with me to go inside. She explained that she had heard of Night Flight but had never even seen the place let alone go inside. She said there was a similar pace in Kiev, but without the same air of sophistication. Soon I relented and said what the hell and we walk to the door. By now, the Face Control doormen recognized me but not my little friend. They said she was not appropriately dressed and could not come inside. I explained to them that she was not on the program and only wanted to go inside to see; she was with me and we would only be 5 minutes. 500 Rubles later, we were in the door and I paid the cover of another 500 Rubles each. It seemed a but light to me but perhaps they knew we were not there for the regular program.

I have been to Night Flight many times before and always shake my head when some dumb shit walks in with his own girl. You can imagine how stupid I felt. And if things were not going bad enough that night, who do we stand beside at the bar but Katarina, a girl that I had taken home the week before. For $400 bucks thank you very much. She was all over me looking for a repeat and I had to be firm with her saying that I was with Marusha and was not looking for a girl from inside. As you can imagine, that did not go over well. If looks could kill, I would have been dead in the spot. And Poor Marusha, was clueless, she could not understand what was going on. So Katarina decided to fill her in on the private joke and told her that she and I had done the horizontal mambo the previous week. Of course this was all in blazing fast Russian and I only caught every third word but I was sure I was going to be in the middle of a cat fight. What the hell had I done. I was a stupid, stupid man. What happened next absolutely stunned me. It was like a switch had gone off in Marusha and she was suddenly as touchy grabby with me as you could imagine. The thought of me banging these model quality girls was actually turning her on. I ordered some wine (bad move) and while we sipped she went around the room pointing and asking me which girls I had screwed, which ones I had not. Which ones I would like to screw and which ones I would not. It was surreal. After about 30 minutes of this, it was time to go. The girls were getting pissed off with my little amateur and did not appreciate the finger pointing. So we got the coats, went upstairs and as it happened I had a half bottle of white wine still open which we sipped.
Let your imagination run wild. The rest of the night was pure fun and games until the sun came up. Good thing I had slept that evening. We slept until about 10 AM and she showered, dressed, kissed me on the cheek, thanked me for a fun evening and slipped out the door.

Of all of the girls in Moscow that I have had the pleasure of bedding, the Ukrainians have been the most fun. Not always the best looking but certainly the most fun. This was no exception. And the best part was the price. 1500 Rubles ($60) plus another $40 in wine. Not bad for an old dog with vodka breath.

Photo: Marusha 03

Jake, "thing's happen for a reason"!
You didn't get to poke your head in that Peruvian/salsa place you wrote about before, this trip?

Anyway, thank's for sharing your stories.

Back in the USA - The Epilogue

What started out to be a 10 day trip to Moscow turned into nearly 20 days.
Thanks to Sf4dfish (for reminding me), I thought I would wander by the Peruvian place before heading back home on Saturday. I had arranged for a car to come for me at 7:15 AM Saturday morning so I was pretty bullish on not only getting some action but maybe getting some sleep as well before the long plane flight home. I was also feeling pretty good about myself after scoring a near freebee at the Real McCoy a few nights before so I figured I night as well take a shot at the Peruvian place called Inkara. If I struck out then I could always stop by Night Flight for some late night take-out. It?s always good to have a backup plan.

It had been a relatively quiet week with minimal mongering action and I had arranged to meet my old Moscow running mate Al to join me since Yulia (his new Tatar girlfriend) had headed out of town the night before. I took the Metro up to Octobrskoye Pole and walked the last 800 meters or so. The last time we had come in June, the action was pretty good so we thought we would get there early again and get good seats near the bar and the dance floor for maximum coverage. It was barely 8:00 PM so getting a quick meal in before the rush was easy enough. As last time, the food was ok but not great.

In hindsight, we actually made a tactical error because we had gotten there waaaaay too early for a Friday night. And since it was my last night, Al though we should at least get a small bottle of vodka to celebrate my trip home. Big mistake. Again. One half bottle turned into three and we ended up getting pretty trashed. Shooting vodkas with beer chasers is a guarantee for getting pretty fucked up indeed. Regardless, we were both invited to dance by a couple of really hot younger girls who appeared to be in their 20?s. Initially I felt a little self conscious groping a 20 something devushka in a nice respectable neighborhood bar on the dance floor. It was one thing to do the same at the Real McCoy, but at the Peruvian Restaurant? After a quick scan around the floor I could see it was ALL old farts like me and AL dancing with much younger girls. Imagine that ? it was geriatric pity fuck night! Seriously, though ? it?s quite common in Russia to see younger girls dancing and carrying on with much older guys in public. While it would bring nothing but glares and finger pointing in America, it seems quite commonplace in Russia ? just like in Brazil. But I digress.

It was nearly midnight, and the band was taking a break. Al suggested that we move our little party to his place which was not more than a 10 minute walk from the restaurant and actually closer to the direction of the Metro station. While my dance partner was not overly friendly with me, it looked like Al?s little honey was pretty frisky so I thought I would oblige by talking a walk with them towards his apartment and then peel off and head for the Metro before last ride at 1:00 AM. Things were probably just getting heated up at Night Flight so I wasn?t going to strike out completely. I decided it wouldn't to go up with the others to Al?s apartment for one more drink before heading back downtown.

Next thing I remember, I woke by the sound of my phone ringing. Not my cell phone but the phone beside the bed ? IN MY APARTMENT! Instinctively, I reached for it and it was the driver yelling at me in Russian telling me that he had been calling for 15 minutes and that I was late. I glanced at the clock by the bed and it was almost 7:30 AM. What the fuck had happened? Half the lights were on and the TV in the living room was at half volume tuned into the Russian version of MTV. How had I gotten home from Al?s place? I got up out of bed realizing that I was only half packed and if I didn?t get moving right away I was going to miss my ride to the airport. As my feet hit the floor I felt something slimy under my foot and realized that I had stepped on a condom. And worse yet, the damned thing had been worn but not used (if you know what I mean) Was I alone? What the fuck had happened? Who had come home with me? Had anyone come home with me? If not, then what the hell was the condom doing on the floor. So many questions. No time for analysis. No time for a shower. I hastily got dressed and stuffed everything in bags that was not already packed and headed out the door while I made a quick scan of the room making sure I didn?t still have company. This was NOT what I had had in mind.

When I reached the street the driver was screaming at me about being late. The other guy who I was supposed to be sharing the car with was laughing his head off. Another damned Moscow vodka induced ?white out?. He knew well and fine what had happened. And here I thought I knew better. Clearly I had not learned my lesson. I rummaged through my money clip to tried and make sense of the whole affair and determine whether I had paid anyone for anything or not. Everything seemed be in order and it only looked like I was missing about 1,000 rubles or around $40. Certainly not enough to bring home any takeout from Night Flight. As I fumbled through my pockets, my cell phone rang; it was Al. He was calling to see if I had made home ok. ?Al?, I pleaded, ?what the hell happened?? The guy sitting in the car with me could not contain himself. This was the funniest thing he had seen on his whole trip. Poor bastard. Al explained to me that when we had gotten to his place, he pulled out a bottle of champagne he had been saving but opened it anyhow. I guess after the four of us downed the bottle, Al?s dance partner decided to do a strip tease for us in the apartment and pretty soon my partner joined in as well. According to Al, I decided to join in the fun and started grabbing at his friend which irritated the hell out of my girl (God, I wish I could remember their names) and a minor cat fight ensued. According to Al, he saved the day by grabbing his girl and swabbing her tonsils with his tongue. Apparently this made everyone happy and my little pal decided that it was time to head off to my place so we allegedly got dressed again and headed out into the night. Beyond that I could not remember a thing. But judging from the worn (but not used) condom, I gather that it was not my finest hour. I am only guessing, but the girl must have brought me home and at least tried to fuck me but exactly why the equipment had never been used remains a mystery. Sometimes it's better not knowing. Clearly, it was time to be going home.

I was starting to see a pattern here. Clearly, Al is not a good influence on me. We had worked together some 18 years earlier and instantly revert to that time and place each time we get together which always seems to end up with us drinking our faces off. Not a recipe for the best mongering performance, but a hell of a lot of fun. Don?t you just love friends like that?

Now, I?m back in America and heading to Rio in 25 days. Just enough time to recuperate. Thank God Al doesn?t live in Rio.

Nice story, but too much high end action for my tastes. I have always avoided Night Flight, since I stay in cheap hotels.

Explorer8939,

Yeah I know - I really did pay way too much all things considered. I had every intention of going to a Tochka with my local friend Vlad as my driver. He assured me we could find girls from the provinces who would be delighted with $100 for the night. But when I spent a night with Helena, she filled my head with horror stories of these homeless girls that she knew who would be washing out their underwear in the sink of the ladies room at the Boar House and drying them on the hand drier. I suppose that kinda turned me off. But looking back - I should have experienced it!!!

Next time.

By the way - thanks for directing me to sextsalk.ru . That was a little gold mine. As my Russian language skills improve I definetely want to use that as a guide and stay the hell away from Night Flight. I think next time I need an apartment that's not in the same damed building!!!

The most important thing is to leave Moscow, where prices are incredibly high, and head for some other cities, especially those in Siberia.

I hear you man. Point well taken. I was in Ufa for one night this trip and the price difference was staggering. Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to try out the goods. I have a buddy who has lived in Tyumen for three yeas now and he just laughs when I tell him I'm coming to Moscow. The funny bit is that he can't speak a word of Russian and yet manages to get plenty of pussy just the same.

I would be very interested in visiting Ufa, if only to test out the semi-Mongol women there.

If you are serious about going to Ufa, let me know in advance because I have a mongering friend who lives in Ufa and would be happy to show you around. As you can imagine he does not get many American or Western visitors. He tells me that there is a disco in one of the two decent hotels there that usually has some pretty hot Bashkiri girls who will go home and screw you silly just for the chance to go and sleep in a nice hotel and order room service in the morning.

BTW - I imagine the Bashkiri girls are sort of like the Kazak girls. Dark hair and eyes and sort of hooded nose. I have been to Almaty twice and had some experience with two Kazak girls. One dull and the other wild.

These reports are very helpful. I might never make it to Russia (mostly due to horrible dollar policy) but if I did, the info in these reports would be useful. Thanks.

Thanks Mitchc,
Looks like I might make a tip to Tyumen in December (Brrrr) and to St. Petersburg in April. I hear the Salons there try to be like Termas. We'll just see about that.

Hey Explorer8939,

Is this more like what you had in mind?
Sex $14, blow job $10, all night $60.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qCXr-RM07w

The guy in the video speaks Russian as badly as I do.

The ladies in Siberia were much better looking that the housewife in the video. Things were so cheap there that when I was brought some Playboy class girl for $30 an hour, I thought it was a rip-off.

LOL - Somehow, the thought of going to Siberia in December doesn't seem so bad now. Have you seen the other three by this guy? He's hilarious. My Russian is not much worse than his so WTF, I might as well give it a whirl next time. You gotta hand it to these girls for being ballsy, driving up the road and around the corner for a blow job or a screw in the car in broad daylight? Sporty.

Riojake, since you have obviously been to Rio (hence your name) I would ask if there is any comparison whatsoever to a Carioca girl and a Russian girl?
I guess I have stayed-up allnight with carioca-garotas (usually always involving sex), but if it wasn't then it was either playing video games or watching movies. I can't say it was conversing -- I am surmising this is where "intelligent, educated and goal oriented women" doesn't quite seem fit the ones I have associatd with.

A typical "date" with some of these women has usually involved dinner consisting of a milkshake at Bob's and some Pringles, a blockbuster rental(generally a disney-like flick), smoking some weed and then sex that ends when I just can't take it anymore. My favorita-garota has recently asked me on my return voyage to bring her some game where she can "blow-up a lot of things". In return she promised me that she would "work" on her tanlines in my absence.

I could be wrong here, but I am thinking I would be disappointed in Russia......you think?

Cinco,

Well, I'm in Rio at the moment and it's almost 9:00 PM Sunday evening. The girl is in bed sleeping after an afternoon at the beach and a "nap". She's been with me since Friday night when I met her at the Norte Faire at Sao Christavo. The funny thing is that she's not a GDP. When she gets up we're going to Rio Scenarium for some dancing.

Hold on - she just woke up and she's calling my name. I gotta go. More tomorrow...........

Cinco,

Sorry I didn't get back to your question earlier
It's Friday and I'm back in the US. I know I said I would post more on Monday but hell, it turned into a busy week. Turns out Rio Scenarium is closed on Sundays now so that was a bust. By the time we tried a few other places she was whining about being tired so I got her a cab and sent her home. That's the problem with non-GDP's who have day jobs.

To answer your question about Russian girls, based on your description of what a typical date would be, I would say that you would hate a date with a Russian girl. Those on the program are all business. Wham, bam, thank you..... sir?

Now, there are exceptions but for the most part, I would say that Russian girls do not have that outward affectionate demeanor that Brazilian girls have. There's none of that touching and kissing. The sexual innuendo is quite a bit different than in Russia. It's all just a bit more..... professional if I can use that word

For example, I was in Balcony Bar a few days ago with friends. Within 10 minutes a trio of graotas was chatting us up and pretty soon they were stoking our arms and smelling the cologne and touching our faces and doing the soft selling.

That does not happen in Russia. They will sit or stand there like a statue until you initiate conversation and then they will be very formal until you start to broker a deal. There's a saying that Russian women are cold on the outside and warm on the inside. Once you get them behind closed doors they can explode with pent up sexual tension, but there's not that outward sexiness that you get in Brazil.

So yes, it's very likely that you would not enjoy it in Russia and be disappointed.

(Message edited by riojake on November 30, 2007)

This is exactly right. However, Russian girls do have a pretty good work ethic.

RioJake.

I surmised the same conclusion about Russian girls from what I have heard and read.
I did date an Estonian girl(closest thing to a russian for me). Jet-black hair, beautiful blue eyes and intelligent (she spoke 5 languages fluently). However, I found I always had to initiate the sex and she seemed to be always uptight and thinking about other things. As for the Carioca girls, I look into their faces and they seem to think about nothing but being happy.

That's a good description.
Russian girls will more often sit and suffer in horny silence than initiate contact. I remember once going into the Pig Pen (Boar House) at 2:30 AM. There were 20 girls lined up like meat. I just stood there with a beer eyeing them all telling myself that I would leave with the first one who came over and initiated a conversation. After 15 minutes I had to over just to break the ice.

These girls give NOTHING away in terms of feelings. But once behind closed doors...... watch out. I would stack up my best sexual experience in Russia with my best sexual experience in Brazil - no problem. It's the preamble that's completely different.

But don't get me wrong - it's not bad. Just different. Russians are very deep and soulful. Not at all superficial (except the girls at Night Flight). Many are very well educated and intellectual.

It's not uncommon for them to recite poetry or talk about literature between rounds of screwing your brains out.

Whew! That was a great report ! I've been to Rio many times and still go frequently . I've been curious about Russia for a while and your report painted a good picture of what the mongering scene is like there. Thanks!

Cdaze,
Thanks for the comments. Since returning form Rio and reflecting on both places, I really think the way to play Moscow is via the amateur circuit. Compared to Rio (which is getting expensive), Moscow is just getting out of reach unless you are an Oligarch yourself. There are still scads of good looking, curious Russian girls who hang in bars looking for sex. Many of them are very curious about foreigners and many speak decent English. By learning a little Russian, I think there is the real possibility of sex. And if you strike out, there are plenty of working apartments that can scratch your itch without breaking your budget.

RioJake,
Yes Rio is getting quite expensive . I feel sorry for the guys that spend all there time in Luomo or Monte carlo . Don't get me wrong, those termas are still great places to visit but I find using agencies and going to casas you can get more for your money. It's a shame that just as the dollar dropped "L" and some of the other termas decided to raise thier prices .

> It's a shame that just as the dollar dropped "L" and some of the other termas decided to raise thier prices.

That wasn't a coincidence. The dollar is still the reserve currency of choice, so when we fuck up it affects virtually the entire world. Devaluing the dollar is destabilizing economies all over the place, both by first-order effects (reducing the amount or value of their tourism and export trades) and second-order effects (devaluing and/or destabilizing the currency reserves their government holds).

When the dollar straightens out again (give it a year) you can expect the prices to stop rising. Of course, nobody likes to lower their prices...