The Russian and the Mole…

Ok, so, I wasn’t going to write this PG-13 post for a few reasons.

Firstly, anyone (including my parents…oops..) can find this blog if they search for the post that was published on

Secondly, it’s moderately embarrassing, because the last time I did something this risky or dirty was at Mary’s somewhere around someone’s 21st birthday…

But, I decided it was just too good, and since I’m now an aspiring erotic novelist, I might as well practice…so:

The Russian and the Mole

After “the Polish incident,” I thought that I would relegate myself to perusing and pursuing only Italians. I tried to remain adhere hard and fast (pun intended) to this rule, to the point where I’ve turned down another Polish guy, a Brazilian (not the hot kind), two Germans, a Mexican (I think), and a couple of Malaysians (a bit too “ladyboy” for me). Well… I was ridiculously horny yesterday morning thanks to a recent dry spell, and was feeling quite a bit less xenophobic…

“Ruslan” sent me a message on my most useful of websites:

“Ciao usi msn?”

Now, normally, I would have ignored this for a few reasons. I’m very clear in my profile that I am still learning Italian and can’t speak it well. Also, this guy skipped right over the usual script that every single online user uses:

An Italian &

come va
bene, tu?
sesso, amici….
vicino gran madre
bella zona!
si, mi piace

Invariably, at this point the Italian will write some long paragraph message (in Italian) about something…either asking for sex details, hobbies, what I’m doing tonight, etc. Google Translator will fail me completely in its attempt to translate it, and I’ll have to resort to:

Mi dispiace, sono americano. parlo un’po’ italiano…
Oh! Sei americano?
[or some other question, STILL in ITALIAN, usually along the lines of “why on earth are you here in Turin, how long are you staying, have you had sex with many italians, etc.” To which, I always answer back in English, because I’m usually annoyed that they ignored my prior explanation.]

hai msn?

[“hai msn” usually means, “ok, i’m satisfied with your answers, so now we can speak using MSN messenger, where I will try to convince you to turn you webcam on so I can see what i’m workin’ with”]


So, Ruslan was skipping over some steps. However, one look at his profile stats (22, 6’3″, 165lbs,…um..XL “endowment”..) and a subsequent photo of “Mr. XL” as I called it, allowed a deviation or two form the normal routine. And, it’s also much easier to cut and copy things to be translated from MSN, which makes my head hurt less from translating.

Over the course of chatting, it was determined that Ruslan was: Russian, living with his mother, able to speak 4 languages but barely any English, horny as well, and bored…

In my defense, I was already planning on going to the cinema museum at the Mole Antonelliana, as it was also having a temporary exhibition of historical Japaneses Anime.   So, when I suggested that we could still just hang out (Sex at either of our homes was out of the question since he lives with his mom and I live with a roommate who can spot a short and curly from a mile away), and perhaps go to the museum, I was being serious, and not planning on what would eventually happen.

Ok, so rarely am I attracted to anyone more than a couple of years younger than me [not a peep mr. “G.Love”], but upon meeting him in front of the building, I quickly determined that Ruslan was HOT.  And hot in a very specific type of tall-skinny-dark-haired-green-eyed-italian-russian kind of deliciousness way.  Apparently he must have thought the same of the American, or he was just “accidentally” brushing up against me with Mr. XL as we were viewing the exhibits.

[Side-note, the museum is very well designed, and there’s even a “movie magic” area where you can be filmed riding the bicycle from  “E.T.”  You should go to it.]

So I started “brushing” back, and got crazy horny.  *sigh*

I’ve been to the museum several times, and knew exactly where the bathroom on the topmost floor was — the bathroom that had three separate (and lockable) rooms, one for each gender and one for the disabled.  I also knew that the museum wasn’t busy on a Thursday, and that the chance of someone else entering the bathroom was pretty slim.  I also knew that I had to see Ruslan naked like NOW, or I might just explode within full view of the Great Glass Elevator rising through the center of the Mole.  I didn’t know how to translate “wink, wink, nudge, nudge, let’s fuck in the bathroom” into Italian, and Ruslan seemed perfectly content to wait for me outside the bathroom, so I had to literally drag him inside under protest.  The protests ended when I started making out with him… and reached my hand down the back of  his pants.

In my oh-so-subtle way, I backed him up against the handicapped door (since I also knew that the handicapped bathroom of course has oh-so-conveniently-placed handles along the walls ), and in one swift move, deftly swung it inward, spun us around, shut the door and locked it behind him.  Within seconds, I was live and up close and personal with Mr. XL, which I’m quite sure was the biggest I’ve ever seen.  I can’t imagine who on earth would be able to take that thing in.  Luckily,  I wasn’t in the position to do so…


I had been planning on getting some action (but didn’t)  from Michele after our date the past Sunday, and still had some “supplies” in my bag that would do the trick.  So, I made sure that Ruslan made full use of the convenient hand rails— that really do keep you from slipping and falling.  Only once did the main door open and we had to pause in the act for a minute, but that was it.

It was a good pounding…and I learned much about the fascinating world of anime.


~ by Daniel on October 31, 2009.

One Response to “The Russian and the Mole…”

  1. HOLY SHIT!!!!!! I’m am laughing my ass off right now. You go boy!!!! You get you some!

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