This is Svetlana, a Russian lass I ended up with for three years. Russian girls are like Irish girls, they are fiery, feisty, resourceful, very sexy, they cry and laugh very easily, they have short fuses, and deep souls to match. This is the girl I had sex with 9 times in one night, and she made me do it. After a few minutes of vigorous rogering, the words would come, Russian words that I did not know; profoundly imploring at first then more and more vicious as the moment neared. When she came it, she vibrated from head to toe. The next morning, she was fine, but I could not walk.
There was a big open-air rock concert that day, for which we had all planned, so the other students put me in a wheelbarrow, and one of them, Nickolas, pushed me all the way there, about a mile and a half. Svetlana walked alongside, holding my hand. I was beside myself with sheer bliss, all I could do was loll my eyes back and look at the gorgeous vault of the blue sky, and I named and blessed each little white cloud. And as I did so, with each benediction, they would say Amen.
A couple of days later, I was fine again, and I received a present from Svetlana. She had gone to an engraver and bought a blank military type medal which she had engraved with the following words. “To Myles Paulsen, the order of the Purple Cock, wounded in the services of the BEDouin”. I still have it.
Oh, those dear dead days, those dear dead days...
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