The Russian

Everything about this guy screamed ‘no feelings’, so it was perfect.

Steely blue eyes, small frame but everything was hard. Ridiculous amount of muscles to the point it almost made me uncomfortable, but when he approached me I was so drunk, and by the time we started having sex we were half way into it before I realized he didn’t have any body fat.

Russian only got pleasure from three things: Weed, video games and porn. Maybe working out, but he almost did that as an obsessive routine.

I always kind of sensed if given opportunities, he would be the next Norman Bates.

Scratch that.

Too much mess. His place was freakishly spotless, in the, extended hotel visit kind of way. No pubes anywhere.

To be honest, I’m not even sure if he really enjoyed sex. I think he liked behind able to show off that he could last for an hour and a half and come on command.

We had a weird, come when called kind of thing going, until it got a little strange.

I have never, never fucked someone who talked so much post-sex. Especially if the ground rules are clear. I knew everything about this asshole. Family, when the no-feelings family moved to Canada, about his twin, sister, her kids…Everything.

He must have just been bored or lacking human contact, but for someone who appears to be the strong silent type, you couldn’t get him to shut up.

The weirdness started when I drunk texted him to come and meet me at a bar, he showed up, and I was dancing some guys were trying to pick me up and I overheard him say, “You can dance with my girl, but she’s not going home with you.”

When I mentioned it later, he gave me a different story and I brushed it off when he didn’t message me back after a few weeks.

After a long Saturday night of drinking and drunk snapchatting I got a text at 2:00pm.

“Let’s fuck. I need those tits in my face.”
Hayley: Oh god…who is this?

At this point, I had given my number out to so many people I stopped saving them in my phone, and I deleted the Russians number after two unresponded drunk calls.

Well, obviously I fucked him. At this point, it was more like sitting on a chair. Sometimes you just need to take a seat because you’re tired of standing.

Our encounters were only 1:00am or later. He was unemployed and I live off strong coffee and caffeine pills. If I’m not exhausted, I wonder if something is wrong with me.

It started to fizzle out once he started talking about how he wanted a girlfriend. Someone who was into all the things he was into, available at the drop of a hat but they could fuck other people.

Basically once he stopped choking me during sex and started fucking me like I was his girlfriend I stopped replying to his texts.

I should also probably mention that during this same time I had also started sleeping with Rodeo. 

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