Roy and I have only just arrived in Moscow for a one-month jaunt. I’ve never travelled with him before so have no idea if we’ll get on, or if he’ll turn out to be another daygame weirdo  However I’d been keen to get back to Russia and hate travelling alone, so when our schedules matched up we agreed. A few beers in Warsaw a fortnight earlier helped. I was informed Ricky Roma would be there a couple weeks too, and Shotgun and Gollum would also fly in.
Great, I love it when a Team Krauser assembles on the fly.
I check in to a grotty hostel up the road from Red Square. I’ve got better places lined up later but there was a lot of drama in getting myself behind the Iron Curtain. After returning from Minsk I had six days in Newcastle within which to get a Russian visa, a flight, and accommodation. It’s no exaggeration to say my visa-enstamped passport arrived with literally the very last post before my flight.
It was nail-biting, like having an eight about to bounce home.
Roy and I meet late afternoon by the tourist district of Arbat and then rattle off some sets in an underpass that gets lots of rush-hour foot traffic. Then the heavens open. Little did I know but it would rain almost non-stop the next two weeks and really diminish our daygaming opportunities. Still, I’d just spent three weeks in Minsk where it had been thunderstorms literally every single day of my trip. Surely it couldn’t get that bad again.
I do a great set with a smoking hot girl who can’t speak English. We are coseying up under her umbrella  Then we take a metro to Ohkotni Ryad and walk up to Kamergirsky. Dusk is cutting in now and the rain has stopped. Street musicians play, families walk around, and there’s a few girls. As we climb the bank to Kuznetsky Most station I see a very pretty girl round the corner.
Thick dark hair, big raccoon eyes, slinky tight figure, and tottering along in high heels and a skimpy dress. I find out later she’s half-Persian.
Roy sees her too. She gives me a big IOI so I jump in ahead of him. I don’t think he likes that, but she certainly does. It’s immediate eye sparkle, close distance, and a long handhold. She’s on her way to a job interview so I just mesmer her a bit and take a number. I apologise to Roy for going in a bit strong on the 50/50 ball but he doesn’t quibble things.
Texting is sparse but keen. She comes out for coffee soon after, around 3pm in Coffee Shop Company on Kamergirsky. The moment she arrives I know it’s on. Careful make-up, figure-hugging tights, and a big smile. We sit upstairs across each other on sofas but she’s smiling so much, leaning into me, and agreeing with everything I say so I soon pull her over to sit with me.
Kissing soon follows. She’s all over it, half an hour in. Her English is good and I genuinely like her manner and character. It’s the kind of date that makes me glow with satisfaction and remember why I’m in the game. Every moment is good and she’s well worth a dip.
We walk around side streets for a while, visit a free sculpture exhibition, and I finally get her to my door but she won’t come in. We walk a bit more then somehow end at my door again. Still won’t come in.
Ok, get fucked you stupid bitch! Fuck off! Next! I do the gentlemanly thing and walk her to the metro, kiss her goodbye and more texting ensues.
There’s two more afternoon dates like this, spread over two weeks. She’s always so busy. I’m running out of time now, entering the last weekend. My numbers are finally coming through for me and I’ve gotten a log jam with dates, carefully scheduling four per day and trying to estimate which is most likely to put out and thus earn the coveted final evening slot.
I get this girl out for 2pm and need to meet my regular at 4pm  so I figure we’ll have coffee and I’ll just sound her out in case it’s proper on. We sit in a cafe by Kuznetsky Most and it’s great again. Good chat, she looks lovely, and just being there fills me with happiness.
I start fingering her through her tights
She squirms, smiles, lets me do it. Then she sighs, “I’m on my period”. It has the air of “I’d definitely fuck right now otherwise”.
My turn to sigh. With only two days left in Moscow, this notch will have to wait. Unsure what to do I pull a newspaper over, get her to hold it up like we are reading it, then I….
wait for it…
Get my dick out.
Her eyes go wide and she gives a beaming smile. Then she wanks me off. We are sitting on a sofa in the corner of a very busy cafe but the newspaper does it’s job admirably. She just can’t keep her hands off me for ten minutes. Finally we are out of time. She poses a few photos for her Instagram that I take, then arranges the newspaper to be visible in one and adds the caption: “moments! :)”
I take her to the station, see my regular coming, and divert the outgoing girl to the other side of the tunnel and hurriedly kiss her goodbye. We’re still in touch so I’m hopeful she’s still on. Then I take my regular home and bang her. A so-so date follows, then I have a second date that leads to a notch but that’s for another post.
 On reflection, I still don’t know. Maybe he just hides it well.
 I fuck her the next afternoon, taking her anal virginity.
[2a] Actually I didn’t. I just wish I had. She flaked.
 “Regular” is something of an embellishment. I’d fucked her once on first date previous summer, then she’d freaked out on second date and run off. Irregular texting followed then when I met her early on this trip she’d appeared to be on her period and avoided any talk of coming home. So, this meeting would be only second time I’d fuck her. She was a very hot 19 year old.