My Month in Russia

Let the record state: I am down with the swirl. So when a good looking man, of the fairer complexion, that just happened to be Russian born and American raised messaged me on Badoo, I messaged him back.

On a Monday, N_Badoo messaged me and I replied back. We exchanged greetings, professions, and spoke for a few more days then he asked to exchange numbers, and we did. We agreed to meet that Sunday afternoon. So, imagine my surprise when I stumbled home on a Friday night and he hits me up that he’s in the city and wanted to meet for drinks. I had only been home for 5 minutes, didn’t even undress yet, so I figured, sure. He met me at a near by bar, The Duck, but they only accepted cash, so we walked to the ATM together. First thing I noticed was that he did not walk beside me. He walked ahead and I had to double pace to keep up with him. He got some cash then we went back to the bar. He got a beer and I ordered a margarita and we sat on the less crowded, although not quieter since the music was unreasonably loud. He got us another round of drinks and we conversed for about 2 more hours: work, travels, hobbies, foods and drinks we liked, families etc. The conversation was light and fun then he got up and kissed me. His kiss was extremely powerful and his hands felt amazing exploring my body. That went on for about another hour, then for some reason the bouncer kept opening the door and I started to get really cold. We went back to his car and continued kissing and feeling each other up. He tried really hard to get me to go back to his place but I was not with it; since he lived all the way near Coney Island and it wasn’t even a first date. But I did let him suck on my breasts. He did it so hard that I realized when I got home the stopper to my nipple ring was missing- How the fuck?

He met me on Sunday after I left the movies with my family. He drove from Brooklyn to get me and we went back to his place. We started watching Netflix and he made us dinner. After dinner we started kissing then he went down on me, satisfied my desire, and we started having sex. At first I thought average but once inside of me, and finding his groove, he grew exponentially-WOW! He felt amazing. We did a few positions until he finished then we rest for a little bit. We went back to watching TV, (he-from his chair, me-on the bed). In between his roommate came home, I guess he wanted to hang out with him for a bit, but he shut it down by saying ‘my girlfriend is here”. Girlfriend? We did not discuss this at all- I was not ready for this title, as I was still dating other men, and I didn’t feel he was either but I didn’t know what to say at the moment so I just let it be. About a half an hour later, he got the urge again and then again. I was enamored with his insatiable nature and it had been a while since I had a partner like him so I enjoyed every minute of it. Around 10pm we got dressed for him to drive me home. On the walk to the car, yet again, he walked ahead of me and I doubled my pace to keep up with him, I was again, annoyed.

Throughout the week we spoke on and off then we made arrangements for me to visit him Friday night. He picked me up, around 2am, from a party I was at and we went back to his place, we took showers then got down to business. The oral the second time around was less then satisfactory and the intercourse was only 1 and night. I love to cuddle after sex but he sat back in his chair when we were done. It did not enjoy laying in a huge king sized bed all by myself so I eventually rolled over and tried to go to sleep, and he came to bed shortly after. In the morning we had another session and then he had to go. He had a lunch picnic to attend upstate but before then he had a dentist appointment. After he finished with his shower, I went to take mine. He seemed annoyed that I wanted to shower and rushed me along because he had to make his appointment. He dropped me off at the train, I decided I wanted food so I found a place nearby, ate, and then went home.

The next day I asked him about the picnic. He mentioned, he got drunk and started making out with some man’s wife- sloppy much?. They got into a little fight but nothing serious happened. I took this as my chance to state my opinion. Keep in mind; I was still dating other men and I didn’t want to be his girlfriend any more that I felt he would be a good boyfriend so I proposed the idea that we remain just sex. We hang out and enjoy each other’s company, but no title and no responsibility and he agreed. The next few days went by ok. We continued to speak on and off but every once in a while he would say these things exuding extreme affection that made me scratch my head. Calling me pet names, and saying I love you, like I highly doubt you actually do but I don’t want to be a bitch today, so I’ll let you live. I realized that we never actually had a planned date. Every time we saw each other he and/or I were already out and/or we just went back to his place. So I messaged him said you should take me on a date: dinner and a movie followed by a night of sweaty sex. He replied –sounds like a plan and we agreed to meet on a Saturday. I checked with him earlier that week to make sure we were still on. He asked which movie and I said lets see what’s playing when we get there- because I could pretty much go with the flow. We agreed I would meet him in Brooklyn, he’d pick me up from the train and our evening would begin.

I called him before I headed out, just to do a final check, he answered and I made my way to Brooklyn. I texted him when I was a few stops away but got no reply. I called him when I got off the train-no answer. I started to feel a ball in the pit of my stomach. It was telling me, this night would not go as planned and that I should go home. That little ball comes in handy; the only problem is I rarely ever listen to her.

I walked to his apartment, knocked on the door and no one answered, I did it again and still no answer. I felt like a fool- I started to walk out of his building when I finally heard the door open. He was visibly drunk. He and his coworkers went out the night before and he was still hammered. I knew then this wasn’t going to be good. I sat down on his chair and we talked for a bit, the topic of food came up. I was hungry and so was he so we went into the kitchen to make some ribs and chicken. The entire time he flirted with me: kissing, touching, fondling, and rubbing, it was all very flirtatious and I enjoyed it. He kept calling me sexy and beautiful, saying how he was so lucky, and asking what would our kids look like, etc. I reveled in the fantasy of it all then when the food was done we ate. Maybe it was the 4 Coors Lights, or the unknown cups of vodka, or the almost 3 packs of cigarettes he smoked but whatever it was he became a pile of drunken stupor. He was so drunk he bit through a chicken bone fell off his chair, I had to assist him to the bed, and he even threw up on himself.

All the while I’m thinking I can’t ever find a happy medium. I go from a man that doesn’t drink at all to a man that cant control any of his alcohol- this night was shaping up to be a total disaster.

I ended up watching 6 episodes of Siren on Hulu then he partially woke up. Shortly after his roommate came home and wanted to go out and find some women. So, not wanting the night to be a complete waste I agreed to go out (not that I had much of a choice- it was either out or go home, and I really wanted sex). We went to a nearby bar called Wheelers and he acted like a total dick-bag; being rude to the waitress and servers and left a horrible tip, so bad that I gave the lady $15 just for dealing with his rude ass. From there he started talking to another Russian and convinced him to go to Williamsburg with us. So we got in an Uber and were off to Huckelberry Fin bar. The bar was nice, a good crowd, many of the people just came from a wedding so his roommate would have no luck finding a single DTF woman tonight. I was getting annoyed at this point: it was 2:30am, his roommate was socially awkward as fuck, and I just really wanted to have sex to make this night not a total bust. I pulled my guy to the side to tell him I was ready to go, but he wanted to party with his friends. Seriously- you met other Russian a few hours ago and you can be with our roommate any time. But because my shit was at his house I had to suck it up and continue to deal. We went to another bar where he got super handy with some chick and I was like dude I know we’re not a couple but have some decency- don’t be a dick in front of me. So I had to shut that shit all the way down. I was having an outer body experience saying to myself; why did you not just turn around earlier? Why did you continue to walk to his house? Why did you stay? And why did you agree to come out?

We made our way to what would thankfully be the last bar of the night Union Ave Bar or something like that. We get there and the music if bumping. Finally, at least I can dance and boogey to this. I find myself finally having a good time then this ass hole says it’s too loud and wants to step out side- Seriously What the Fuck!His roommate is still having no luck getting women- like zero! They go out to smoke more cigarettes. So just a side note: when we met he said he didn’t smoke, then when I went by his house the second time, it was I smoke cigars on occasion, then I realize that when he drinks he’s a chain smoker- Fucking Disgusting. Finally his roommate was able to converse with a group of girls visiting from Atlanta with their amazing black, gay, best friend (every one needs in their life by the way). He lied that he would be able to get them “party favors” at 6am and they should come back to the apartment. I knew looking at the girl that she was not going to give him anything but whatever this night was already a bust and they seemed like fun; so in the very least we could have a few laughs.  We all piled into an Uber SUV and head out. The driver takes the long route and of course my guy starts acting like a dick yet again. The white girl in the front from Atlanta is lit on trap music and we all make a request for something more ‘white’. Cue- Backstreet Boys, Britney Spears, and The Spice Girls- all resulted in an awesome cab ride home. Naturally my guy attempted to complain about our music choice and singing, at which point- I gave zero fucks. I left all my fucks on the dance floor after he made it perfectly clear that getting drunk with his friends was more important than spending time me. Back at the apartment I offered them the ribs and chicken and I got rave reviews for my cooking. We drank and had a few laughs. They tried to call their connect for party favors but at 6am he was asleep. The group left about an hour later and when I turned around my guy was lying across the bed tapped out. His friend never did get any sex because the girl had zero interest in him, wise woman she was. I left the roommate and other Russia in the kitchen and went to bed. I was on fire with anger, disappointment, and just the feeling of stupidity. Thinking another one I have to add to the list. It was very unfortunate, especially since when I made comments to him about him walking ahead of me and not cuddling he actually made those changes-so I saw potential. But the behavior he showed that night was unacceptable.

I slept for almost 2 hours then I had to go to the bathroom. He woke up for a few minutes after I did then went back to sleep. Then the coughing started (the coughing that was actually him throwing up); at that point I said Nope!I went into the bathroom, took a shower, threw on my clothes, and left the apartment. I have no intentions to reach out to him in the future. Next time I will listen to my little ball.                                                                                                                     

THE EX THAT NEVER LEFT

In the beginning of the New Year I disabled and deleted all my online dating apps. I went cold turkey; I cut them all off. As I write this post, I am 15 days sober, and I realized that I over-estimated the number of horrible stories I had. Now I am faced with the question- Where do I want this blog to go? There a still a healthy amount of dating mishaps I will divulge but the topic of this post is essential to fully understand the upcoming stories. This post of extreme open-vulnerability IS LONG BUT NECESSARY. I will explain how I emerged from the flames and entered into a world of self-love and self-discovery, that I might not have otherwise experienced, had it not been for the below. So, I hope that at the conclusion of this post; you take a moment to be open and honest with yourself and start to change your mind about all that you thought you knew.  

I lost my virginity at the age of fourteen. I wasn’t in love or anything, I just thought the guy was cute and I wanted to get it over with. After that, I had a string of high-school boyfriends (at which time, dating for a month was the emotional equivalent of being married). I was never the girl your mother warned you about- because I would travel far and wide to do my dirt. Armed with thick bottle-cap glasses and my Catholic school uniform- no one could detect my true-sexual identity. In my late teens and during college I had a few flings here and there. After a long-term break up, that rocked me to my core (stay tuned for that one), I took a few months off from dating and then I met HIM- the one that would become THE EX THAT NEVER LEFT

We connected on BlackPlanet.com. He was educated, handsome, and he demonstrated a genuine interest for me and my likes. He was a stark contrast to the men I had dated and slept with before; he put a smile on my face and I never felt so secure. We would joke together, laugh together, and one day he even met my mom. It wasn’t official introduction, but it meant a lot that he joked with her, rather than evade conversation. When he took me out for my birthday; I wore a dress that I made and he complimented me on it, which made me feel very good. All was going well, until it wasn’t. After about 5 months of perfection he became unreachable, and we started seeing each other less and less. Eventually after two weeks of him pulling away, I sent him a message- I guess you no longer have interest. Wish you all the best. I concluded that he had started seeing someone else, so I left it alone. 

Two weeks later he popped back into my life- but not in a way I could see coming…  

It wasn’t the horror show you find online when you google; mine was much like a mosquito bite, which was why it didn’t cause for alarm at first. But when nothing aided in easing the discomfort, I showed my mom (a RN) and her friend and I went to my GYN. A week later, when my doctor finally confirmed my suspicions, my response was: “For all the years that I’ve been fucking- it’s the time that I’m in a committed relationship that I get herpes? YOU’VE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME!” Yes; He gifted me with Genital Herpes Type 2. WHAT THE ENTIRE FUCK!!!!! My young mind, in its early twenties, could not understand how this could’ve happened. I was doing everything right: I asked him all the questions: When was his last test? What were his results? -He assured me everything was fine. We used protection (condoms) and I know I wasn’t fucking anyone else; so why me, why now, and how?  

Through my research I discovered the following: He very well, may not have known he had it prior to me. Why? You ask. How could he not know? You ask. Well here’s your answer. 

1- People can be carriers and never have symptoms of the virus. So, people who never have an outbreak will automatically assume that they don’t have herpes, and yet, may pass it on to their partners.  

2- Doctors don’t willingly include herpes testing. On a medical scale of diseases and viruses in the world- herpes is at the bottom of the list. I can remember getting tested, for years, and not once was herpes ever included. Sure, they tested for chlamydia, gonorrhea, HIV, and syphilis; because if left untreated these could actually lead to cancer, infertility, and/or death. But, herpes- NOPE! So, since one has to specifically ask for it; and, (back to point 1) if you have no symptoms- why would you. 

3- It’s everywhere. Another major reason why doctors don’t test for herpes is because 80% (every site will indicate a different number) of the population is living with or has had some form of the herpes virus. For example, if you ever had chicken pox – that’s a strain of herpes; if you get older and develop shingles – that too is a strain of the herpes virus. The blisters people call cold sores is also a strain of the herpes virus. The only difference is the strain, stigma, and location of the outbreak. People with oral herpes aka cold sores (commonly HSV1, but can also be HSV2) don’t go around telling everyone about it; they live their life, kiss and date and be merry. However, people with genital herpes (whether Type 1 or Type 2) are expected to disclose. There is a reason there’s a rise in Genital Herpes Type 1 cases. Ever got head or ate pussy from a someone? Well- there you go. 

4- And lastly, he simply could have neglected to inform me. As horrible as that idea may seem – it’s just as much a possibility as the above are. I eventually had to take responsibility for my actions and my decision to take his word as truth. But, take it a step further…

Think about it- Did you ever had a one-night-stand? Did you ever meet a person and have sex (intercourse or oral) that night? Did you ask the person you were dating when they were tested last? Did you go and get tested together, just to be sure? Did you abstain from sex the required 3-6 months it takes your body to build antibodies once a virus is detected? Do you always use condoms (not just for intercourse, but for oral as well)? Do you follow your partner everywhere they go, to make sure they are being faithful? If you answer no to any of the above, you too, could have found yourself in my situation. You were just lucky not to. 

The occurrences of my outbreaks (1-2 a year) were as annoying as random mosquito bites. So, even though I wish I didn’t have this- I still consider myself lucky. The worst part of this virus is THE STIGMA attached to it. The idea that people would think you’re dirty (I take 3 showers a day sometimes), or a slut (I prefer the term sexually-free) is more painful and always in the background of my mind.

During the many years and conversations, I’ve had with thousands of people I can confirm that, there is no direct relation between sexuality and herpes. I met people who were born with herpes or contracted it from sharing a beverage with a parent or friend. I met virgins that were gifted by their first partner, women and men that were gifted by their cheating spouses, people who were victims of rape and/or sexual assault, people that could count on one hand their partners and acquired their gift, and people that fell in love with a positive person and made the decision to stay with them. I also know sex workers and porn stars (with hundreds and thousands of partners) that are herpes negative. Herpes does not care who you are, how sexual you are, your nationality, religion, salary, etc. It simply does not care and having this virus does not change who a person is. 

So, after the initial wave of devastation passed, I confided in a close group of friends, one of which had a history of cold-sores (Oral Herpes) and asked her how she dated with the virus. I didn’t run into conversations exposing my diagnosis, but I told my partners on a ‘need to know’ basis and it worked, for years. When I would enter relationships, I would tell my partners and, luckily, they were all accepting. The fear that often lurked in the back of my mind: What’s he going to think? Will he hate me? Will he break up with me? Was always put at ease the moment he said ‘It’s ok. I still want to be with you. Thank you for telling me. And, “This doesn’t change how I feel about you”. I was lucky to have met men that were accepting of my status; and to this date, I have been successful in never transmitting my virus to a partner.  

Fast forward some more years- I had concluded that, if the man really liked me, and was ok with getting to get to know me before trying to have sex, my disclosure conversation (DC) would go over much better. This worked out great; until I broke up with my last ex (The Ex Files) and started dating again. After him It was obvious that I was in a very new world of dating and I was totally clueless to the rules of the game.  

Long gone were the days of conversation; everyone wanted to ask me my favorite position. So long was the idea of meeting up for a first date; everyone wanted to send me dick-pics and get a confirmation of sex. Hell, even the corny guys were playing the fast game. How the hell was I going to manage my newly found sexually-free identity with my status? Would I be outcasted as a leper? Would I be forced into celibacy? I didn’t like the idea of either. I could limit my dating pool to people in my similar situation, but I never liked limits and the people on those sites were just as bad as other online dating apps. So, I took a chance and I figured the only way to discover what would happen, would be to dive right in; and I’ll admit what I found was quite empowering, and I hope you stay tuned for more.