Not that that would discourage Volodya much.
aw, fuck, I almost cheated on Mikel last night. Key word being almost, thank the fucking lord god.

I did come close though. I was piss-drunk but that's never any excuse. I am such a fucking slut



Five o'clock in the morning and I was predisposed to him already after a night of hard drinking and shitty Moscow club anthems, he talks to me, understands my language, laughed like crazy when he saw the jug of bird food with the bilingual warnings ("Hummingbird nectar, do not drink" and "VOLODYA this is HIV sperm from my prostitute cock!!"), when I start talking about Chechnya he goes along with insulting Kadyrov ("I saw a picture of him and he looks like he's taking a shit") even though he's a total Putin whore. Like being home, like being home.

The sun is rolling around and he's thinking he wants to crash, everyone else is gone, so I let him into my bed because where else is he going to sleep? My room is the size of a prison cell. I get in with him and he asks me if I want to take everything off, which makes sense because it's going on a hundred degrees these days. Strip down to our boxer shorts, who cares if we're in bed together, it's totally platonic, he's straight. He's straight but he tells me I'm beautiful and I watched him get turned on when I was telling him about how I beat the shit out of this guy the other night who pissed me off, likes me for my strength and the fierce look in my eyes even though his type of partner is a submissive girl like from a Japanese cartoon.

Then of course the way he's holding me is definitely not fucking platonic, but I know he's lonely and it strikes a chord in me, makes me feel tender. Let him stroke my arms and hold my hand, anyone can have that, okay.

He starts nuzzling my nose, presses his mouth to my face, clearly wanting me to kiss him, and I start thinking, what an asshole, he knows I have a boyfriend, but I'm too tired and drunk to do jack shit, just lay there hoping that if I don't respond he'll get the message, give up and I won't have to cold clock him. So he kisses me, persistent bastard, and ... well, shit, I don't the hell kiss him back but I'm not punching him, I'm not telling him to fuck off, but in my mind there's a fucking marquee going "MIKEL MIKEL MIKEL MIKEL", or more like "Why isn't this Mikel? This isn't the one that I want. This isn't the one that I want."

Because I'm a fucking whore and like I complained to my friend, I can find something to turn me on about a 400-pound woman if the situation arose where I would need to fuck one. Yeah, of course I'm getting turned on. A hard cock is a hard cock. Whereas with Mikel a prick's not a prick unless it's your lover's prick. Ilya bitched about it after, doesn't notice that he turns heads, doesn't know how everyone who sees him wants him, acts totally sexless with others, it's almost creepy - like he only has eyes for you, he said (and then complained about all the sappy shit we make him say).

But if I don't kiss him back it's not cheating. And, shit, I didn't know what to do. I don't know if I just froze up or if I wanted to prolong it as long as I possibly could, because I knew I couldn't sleep with him, not only in that "I can't do this because it would hurt Mikel" way, but it just wouldn't fucking work with anyone else. I don't even jerk off to anybody but him. But somehow I just wouldn't fucking get the words "I have a boyfriend, scumbag" out of my mouth, somehow I just wouldn't fucking hit him or whatever, couldn't move, aw, fuck, I don't know why I didn't just do it, I fucking wanted to and that's pretty much just as bad. All I could think about was Mikel, how much I goddamn wanted him, wanted him and not this stranger, couldn't move, couldn't think about anything else, just Mikel, Mikel, Mikel. And meanwhile I was letting him have my mouth, kiss my throat and chest, and it wasn't until he started fumbling around with my crotch (and it felt so fucking good) that I finally snapped out of it and made him fuck off. Passed out like thirty seconds after. Woke up a few hours later and felt like shit ...

I wrote most of this to Mikel. Said "All of a sudden I just wanted it so badly, I didn't give a shit who I got it from, but I wanted it for real, I wanted to listen to somebody's breath go ragged and hear them start moaning, feel them get hard, and everything, everything we have suddenly seemed so distant and ... I don't know how to put it. Incomplete. And I knew that I could have that, I could have it right at that moment if I was willing to take it. I wanted to cry, because I wanted sex but I didn't want him, I wanted it to be you, I wanted it to be you so badly. I wanted you so much at that moment. Not just for sex but for everything, I wanted to hold you and kiss you and fall asleep with you so much I could almost feel my arms around you."

Which is the truth. (On one hand I'm thinking it's kinda pathetic.) I'm just so fucking frustrated ...


Anyway, he's gone now. We were going to go party up in NYC, go look up Zhenya in Brighton Beach and take some E or at least smoke pot, but his ma called up all "what the fuck are you doing at his house" and shit. I don't know. *rubs face* Probably a good thing we didn't hang out anymore. He'll be in Russia in a couple days anyway, won't have to deal with him.