Damaged Sochi Sex

As referenced in my naked ironing man  (NIM) experiences, I got fed up one night with the usual bullshit dudes and decided to try something different.   

So when this crazy fierce-looking Eastern European dude reached out online and said something akin to “hey, you are sexy” I thought WHY THE FUCK NOT.  I checked out his profile.  Here’s what I found:

  • Spoke four languages (Russian, German, Farsi, English)… okay, cool, can’t be a moron
  • Oozed alpha male… alright, way different from the calm demeanor of NIM
  • Straightforward and blunt… I can deal with that


I engaged him in text conversation.   It was kind of insane.  In fairly short order I found out that he was a total bad boy.  Spent time in jail in Eastern Europe.  One of his tattoos (more of an etching, actually) he was given unwillingly.  Former drug dealer and user.  Now he’s a customs agent that specializes in the drug unit.  Complete alpha male who told me once I had sex with him, I was going to be all his.  Because he didn’t like to share.  He spoke in explicit detail about some of the sexual things he would like to do to me.  Part Russian, German, and Persian.  Felt a bit dangerous.  Crazy cool green eyes.  This was nothing like the dudes I was meeting at the office.  A girlfriend nicknamed him Sochi.

In contrast to desperately wanting to hear from NIM that he liked me (although I knew he did, he never ever sent a “good night, beautiful” text message), Sochi was full on, full frontal assault.  I admit I really liked it.  We spoke on the phone.  In his awesome accent he said “Once you fuck me you will want no other.  I am addictive.”  I got instantly wet.  I saw proof of his, ahem, asset.  He asked me what a “professional lady” like me wanted to do with a bad boy like him.

We try to set up a date.  Turns out he has just had surgery from an injury from – wait for it – when he was an underground kick boxer.  So he’s got this big hole in his back that’s healing.  We delay seeing each other so he can get fixed.  Wait a week.  Then he decides he’s fine to meet me.  When I meet him, I realize he’s one of the many guys who says he’s six feet tall that, well, isn’t (OKCupid has some great stats on this that I will share later).  So he’s a bit shorter.  Definitely stylish in a European way but wearing too much cologne.  I wasn’t sure what to expect, but all that animal magnetism?  Definitely there.  

This guy is an animal…in a good way.  Turns out he’s on Oxycontin for his pain – and yup, big hole in his back, but he fucks me anyway.  Like the champ he is.  He drinks Red Bull.  I thoroughly enjoy myself.  He tells me he’s at about 50% of his capacity.  I simply can’t imagine what he would be like at full strength. 

We haven’t seen each other since then because he tore his stitches.  Don’t laugh.  We still text every once in a while.  Depending on my mood, I can very well see myself experiencing Sochi again…just to see what this alpha male can dish out when he’s at 100%.  It just might kill me.

What do you think?