A few years ago, I used to be active on Tinder and very shameless about trying to get laid. I was getting sort of bored of my usual type at the time (white, highly educated, sorority) and started to push my boundaries a little, experimenting with girls of different ethnicities and outside my social bubble. I live in a city that receives a lot of international tourism so I eventually started matching with short-term travelers from across the globe. After a memorable evening with a Saudi Arabian woman who was my first sexual experience with a foreigner, I decided to focus more intently on what women from countries had to offer.
From her dating app profile pictures, Nadia looked like a well-traveled socialite type. Her profile said she was 25 and lived in Moscow, and she had red, curly-ish hair past her shoulders, pale skin, green eyes and a fit body with what I expected would be nice curves. I’m a 6’3 white guy who is in shape for comparison. Her pics looked like they were taken at fashionable events, and she was dressed very well and with jewelry that signaled she was a person who came from means. Once we matched and started talking, I found this assumption correct. She was traveling with a couple of friends around North America. They had just landed in my city after a week in Mexico at the beach and were on there way to NYC for a week after my city. It was winter so they were still adjusting to the travel and temp change from the beach and her friends wanted to take the night off. She, however, was up for meeting me for a drink.
I was watching football with some friends but said adios as soon as I got the OK to meet at a nearby bar. I called an uber and headed her way wondering what it would be like to hang out with a Russian girl. When I arrived, she greeted me in front of the bar and I was not disappointed. She was holding her coat (not cold enough for a Moscow native) so I got a good look at her figure: she was 5’8, wearing a dark skirt and stockings combo with heels and an emerald green fuzzy button-up sweater. She had C-cup size tits and were they…fake? I wondered. She would later tell me that she felt like prey when I showed up and looked her up and down for the first time. We hugged then went inside where we quickly ordered drinks and fell into a conversational rhythm. Her accent was straight out of a James Bond movie and she had the languid confidence of someone who was not unsure of her station in life. I was out of my league here with regards to her travel experiences. She had been everywhere and not just once. I love a challenge, though, so I was feeling it. I have a friend who spent some time in Russia for work who I recalled had told me that Russian women like aggressive, forward men, so I wasted no time in being overtly sexual and making any excuse to make contact with her. After a few drinks I suggested we go back to my place and she agreed.
In the uber home things heated up quickly. We sat in the back and she sat in the middle seat next to me, angled towards me and leaning in. I put my left hand on her knee and quickly slid it up to the hemline of her skirt. Her legs parted just enough to signal that she was into it and I moved my hand up further pushing her skirt up her leg until I felt where the top of her stockings met the skin of her upper thigh. She turned towards me and began kissing my neck and breathing heavily in my ear while she stroked the back of head with her hand. I maneuvered so I was facing her and kissed her deeply. We continued this shameless make out session the entire way back to my apartment.
When we got to my floor and inside I immediately began taking off my winter outerwear and helping her do the same. We moved to a couch in my living room where I sat down and she straddled me as we continued to lose clothing. I pulled her sweater over her head and was able to undo her bra, freeing her well proportioned (fake!) tits with silver dollar sized nipples. I used one hand to pull her head back by hair and the other to cup a breast so I could lick it. She began bucking against me and then started grinding her pussy into my thigh, her skirt bunched up around her waist. This girl had serious sex appeal; she knew how to move and respond to turn a guy on and I was as hard as I can remember. Eventually she put her hand on my chest and looked me in the eyes and said in a thick accent that she wanted to give an American man head. She undid my belt, pulled my pants and boxers off, dropped to her knees in front of me, and began sucking my cock slowly and with intensity. As this was going on I kind of had a moment of clarity where I just took in the entire scene as this gorgeous red-haired Moscow socialite who I just met sucked my cock in my apartment while I sat on the sofa. All I was missing was a glass of champagne.
After a truly excellent blowjob with lots of eye contact I stopped her as I was getting too close to cumming. I stood her up, taking a quick moment to admire her body again and spanking her pale, heart shaped ass in her blue thong. I stripped the rest of her clothes off her and began making out with her again as I worked my fingers inside her her shaved pussy to get her wet. Once she was slick and ready, I picked her up and walked her to my dining room table, where I laid her down on magazines and stacks of unopened mail. The table was almost the perfect height for me to fuck and because it’s in between my couch—where things usually start—and my bedroom, I usually make a pit stop here to mix things up. I lined myself up in front of her and began slowly working myself in, no condom, as she gasped. Once I was in, I started moving slowly in and out, holding her by her waist and leaning over to kiss her. The table isn’t the sturdiest so you can’t go 100%, but it’s a great beginning to a night. I fucked her slowly as she talked dirty to me, asking me if Russian pussy was better than American pussy. I fucked her slowly and deeply until my legs got tired. Then I picked her up and brought her into the bedroom, where I kept the lights off. I flipped her over and pulled her back off the bed so we were both standing, her leaning over the bed on her stomach. This time I wasn’t as gentle, and as soon as I got inside her I began ramping up speed like a metronome increasing. As I got up to speed I grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled it back so her back was arching. She began letting out AH AH AH moans every time I thrust into her. I could see sweat glistening on her back as I felt my orgasm build up. I said I was about to cum and she said to cum in her, that she was on birth control. I pulled one last time on her hair and buried myself as deep as a I could and then began to came, going weak in the knees. I slumped over her out of breath and lay there for a minute. I asked her how it was and she said “fuck, I need a cigarette.” She grabbed her purse, walked to the window naked, lifted it up, sat down on the ledge, and lit up while 30 degree air streamed in.
We had sex two more times that night. The next morning, she ordered breakfast from a Russian restaurant before she came back to bed and we had slow, passionate sex, much different from the night before. She left my city two days later.
Over the course of a couple years I had sex with girls from England (several), Nicaragua, Mexico, Canada, Ireland, Italy, Australia, Bulgaria, India and South Africa, in addition to the Saudia Arabian and Russian. Let me know if you want to hear more.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/j48oui/beginning_of_my_adventures_with_international
Absolutely! More, please!
More please! ??
More broo
Great story! Would love to read more :>