My first International romance with a female Preying Mantis - When I flew across the world to meet a complete stranger

Back in 2006, Skype was still in its infancy.

It was a program I'd forgotten existed on my computer. Randomly I switched it on and found my password. So I figured that if I was going to learn Russian then I needed to make some Russian friends. I added guys and girls, yet only the women granted me permission to talk to them. All the guys thought I was gay. Fair enough. But no surprise when only one Russian man started to chat to me. He wanted me to send him pictures of me naked.

Actually I'm surprised these women allowed me to add them because they get approached every day with dirty men asking for sex. I experimented at one point and pretended to be a hot Russian woman. Within minutes 13 men had added me and 9 were asking for sex or naked photos within 5 minutes. More and more wanted to chat, most from Turkey and from Saudi Arabia. I think these men need help. These repressed men have no idea how to treat women. I'm surprised their race hasn't died out.

Out of the 30 or so Russians that I added, I made friends with about seven of them.

Then, I met Natasha, a girl that would one day change my ways and take me to a new level of emotional understanding.

My god this girl was a hottie and she knew it. She was accustomed to stepping on men in clubs and on the Internet. She shocked them with her beauty and when they expressed their desire, she bit their heads off like a female praying mantis. She claimed that she had been hurt by many guys who only cared about her looks. She claimed to have never met a man who cared about her inner beauty. And it would have been hard to get past her beauty for an uneducated guy.

Only the coming years would teach me that she really knew how to use her beauty to manipulate. But I was not there yet. I was just an awestruck guy.

So I had a massive task: To somehow show her, over the Internet from Australia, that I could not care less about her looks. And it was even more difficult when the photo she sent me was of her in a fluro, green bikini (The Praying Mantis has the exact same colour green). This was the test she gave all men. How do you pass this test?! The answer was actually quite easy. Bust her on it. So I used photoshop and painted her face as a goofy clown with white paint and big, red nose. Then I sent it back to her with a message "That's better". I thought she'd be pissed at me. It's a risk, but it was a very different reaction from what she always got from men. She was enthralled and loved being teased. It allowed her to drop her defences and give us the chance to get to know each other.

She didn't teach me much Russian but I made a good friend. I thought that one day I might meet her if I start traveling. By then though I may have a girlfriend and her with a husband.

I kept living my life and when a woman left my house after a night of fun I sometimes turned on my computer, logged onto Skype and chatted with her. We developed a connection.

It struck me as to why I hadn't found a proper girlfriend in all this time. I slept with them well before I had the chance to get to know them. Natasha and I sent each other videos and audio. It was very sweet. I felt anticipation when I turned on my computer. I'd leave my computer on, hoping she would be there eventually and say hi.

And although I had never met Natasha, the more I knew, the more I loved. I started falling in love with a high maintenance Russian princess, a woman I had never even met. How was this possible when we could barely understand each other? We tried to speak but could not understand. We could only communicate by a in-beta text translator.

Then one day after several months of talking. Through a struggled audio recording by email she asked to meet me in Croatia. I was intrigued and my heart raced. Could I take this risk? Croatia was out of the question, but we would both fly half way around the world to meet in Thailand, the riskiest thing that I had done so far in this journey. But this was the drama of life and I lived in a universe of unexplored possibilities. So much could go wrong, but I was Energy and I felt strong enough to go through with it. But I needed some crazy inner-game training and only Heath and Omar were wise enough to give it to me.

My friend Omar gave me exact techniques and reminded me of "PUA routines" (again... forgive my PUA days) . My other friend James uploaded theories and perceptions to my system like Neo did when learning Kung Fu in the Matrix. And so I prepared. I re-read some essential "PUA books" (yes I did), watched my favourite social dynamics DVD's and kept my mind fit and competent.

An Australian guy who spoke very little Russian. A Russian girl who spoke very little English, meeting in a country where most of the population spoke neither language. If anything was to fall apart it was this. Past issues of distrust surface for me when I have to make a big investment of any kind. After photos of her snogging her best friend surfaced I felt very unsure. I almost pulled out of the deal and I freaked.

There as was an emotional investment here that I didn't want to damage. But Natasha said they were like sisters and were very close. I don't remember being with my sister. Heath wanted to punch me because he would die to be with a bisexual Russian woman. Who wouldn't? A thousand men would stone me for my thoughts. Admittedly I loved those photos and wanted to see more. But in my head these two women were a couple and I may be getting chumped.

I felt I was still learning about what it took to attract women and I was a chump. And there was a battle inside. It was my brain and groin fighting my heart. I hadn't felt a real, emotional heart connection in years. As I had built a silly alter ego as a "PUA" (lord help me) , I could handle being with bisexual women. I loved the one threesome I had in the past, but if 'Greg' was to have a say in this, then that bisexual girl should not be a woman he was in love with.

As a man, I viewed bisexual women as hot, but not long-term relationship material. This girl may be the wrong type for a longer term romance. But I was caught and curious.

I wanted monogamy with a woman I'd never met. But would I be eaten alive?

My heart was coming alive and I hated it. I was feeling so many things and I resisted because I had learned long ago not to trust my hearts emotional decisions. I used the bisexuality thing as an excuse, but really I was simply expecting something, anything to go wrong, so I could confirm my old beliefs with, "See??!!" I was fighting this all the way.

Then there were the frightening opinions of others instilling the worst fears in both of us. She was taking a massive risk because it can be more dangerous for a single woman to travel solo to meet a strange man. But we both stuck it out. I had attracted her so much that nothing would sway her opinion. In her words: "I must meet you. I have been searching you all my life". Her English sentence needed to add "for" between "searching" and "you", but I understood clearly.

Several months after my own crazy new years, alone and unarmed except for my innergame, confidence, techniques, seduction skills and rehearsed Russian phrases, I boarded the Thai airways flight to Thailand for Bangkok. The following two weeks changed my reality forever.

I landed at 11pm with the confusing sound of foreign language, the smell of garbage and a high humidity. But out of the crowd was a tiny Thai woman with my name on a private car transfer. I wished I'd brought friends along. But Natasha was arriving the next day from Moscow, alone and I would be meeting her at a military airport near the city of Pattaya.

My cheap Bangkok hotel smelled like rotten eggs and burned hair, and this, with my excitement kept me awake. But being a master of dynamic attractions, this would be the only skanky hotel I would stay in. I would go 5 star all the way. Mind you, nothing beats a buffet breakfast in Thailand, no matter how low quality the place is.

A hot, humid day and I had spent months at the gym. I was looking fit and with a trickle of sweat down my face I was ready to meet this girl. My driver and I pulled up at the military airport and I had my driver film the first moment Natasha and I would meet. There were Russians everywhere. Many of the men drank beer after beer as the hundreds of Russians made the slow process through customs. Then, out of the crowd I saw her. I was mesmerised. Never had I seen such a beautiful woman, even in the Hollywood films.

I had a cuddly koala teddy bear ready for her and when she walked out of the airport everything seemed to slow down. I kept reminding myself, "You are the prince. You are the prince. You are the prince". She was so gorgeous that I thought I'd quickly become a servant. But I was Energy. "Stay Energy", I whispered to myself.

Her touch was soft and her hug was warm. Greg was feeling nervous but I became Energy, an identity I had yet to integrate into my own. These two weeks made me do that. I ran the hand compliance test to see if she was still attracted and then made her link my arm. My driver filmed it all.

I had a 5-star hotel booked. $400 per night. Our swimming pool connected to a bar and it overlooked the sky blue ocean. Relaxing with a drink, waist deep in water was paradise. As the sun set that night we made love on our soft, king sized bed. It was a natural progression and it escalated without her resistance. Her kiss drained me. A feeling struck me and it was the warmest sensation. Her heartbeat gave me life. In person she was exactly the woman I had dreamed in my head. It was crazy.

My brain started going nuts at the possibilities and how I ended up in that hotel THAT night. My father would have been proud I'm sure. To read the words I use to describe her here, you can see that she has me slightly whipped, but I haven't started writing poetry yet or crying over sunsets. Whether it was simply a culture difference or an air of adventure, this woman ignited feelings in me, yet I trusted her with them. She had no judgement on my past.

I told her many secrets and she simply accepted them and moved on and then showered me with love. I must say, I loved her values. I felt that this new heart connection gave me ultimate game because I knew exactly what to do and now I could also add a strong heart to the equation. I felt powerful.
Those two weeks in Thailand were the most amazing and romantic moments I have ever experienced. The adventures we had, learning each others language, exploring each others bodies. In this time I learned that I couldn't REALLY be fulfilled by multiple partners. When with multiple partners only my groin and head were given satisfaction. For such a long time I had NOT taken care of a heart connection. My empty flings kept my heart from needing to trust anyone because there was no vested interest. With the heart now pumping I had to question whether women really were robots. I would re-evaluate when I returned to Australia.

The larger the risk the greater the reward, and to this day I have not felt such love and connection, and physically I didn't settle for less. She's a 10/10. Don't believe me? Watch the video.

She was genuinely funny. I thought she could do stand up comedy. And I would lay a bet that she has many male friends that she laughs with, but who also plot to plant their sperm in her. She was so unbelievably sweet mostly and she was a great listener.

The downside was she was the most high maintenance woman I had dated so far. Often she would demand or sulk that I make her toast or get her water. Rarely she said thank you and also insisted I speak in English and forget Russian. She had a temper when she didn't get her way and never apologized when she knew she was wrong. It pissed me off. I found that I paid for more dinners and taxi rides.

I started chumping out. It became a regular nightly occurrence to walk through the markets and see all of the great imitation fashions. Natasha loved it. We stopped at almost EVERY jewellery and clothing store and she'd continually ask for my opinion on what she should buy and then she'd buy the opposite item. We spent ridiculous amounts of time at each store for her but when I wanted to stop and see the wide variety of pirated DVD's, Natasha would become annoyed, tell me I was too slow and then demanded we moved on. I could hear Omar's voice running through my head "Don't let her chump you! You'll pay for it forever!". So I physically slapped myself.

I needed to get this woman under control. Then at one stage I let her have it and told her emphatically that I was not her servant and she should treat me with respect. I rammed home my message and while my vocal tone was easily translated, I couldn't say the same for my words. I'm not even sure she understood me. But it seemed to work. Then I ran 'hoop theory', a system a P.U.A implements to continually have the woman qualify herself to him. I ran game and had her buy drinks and I began to even up the equation. She seemed to get with the program after that.

I figured that she was too accustomed to having guys bend to her will, that I would be another guy for her to eat alive like that female praying mantis. She was not going to make a meal out of me this holiday. I had come too far to allow that. Prince theory was solidified in my mind after this conversation. How can she be a princess unless she could keep me, the prince? It did the trick and she pulled herself together.

Since being in the game I had learned to NEVER show a woman my weaknesses. Always look strong and unshakable. And then I was struck down. I got an eye infection and it swelled up with a disgusting puss. In the beginning when it seemed fairly red she told me not to touch it. I was stubborn and only made it worse. I tried to keep it covered and I couldn't believe it would destroy my short holiday.

The chump began to re-emerge. Greg, the chump with the asthma and other medical conditions seemed to rear his ugly head and it frightened me that I might lose her. I couldn't hide this. I admitted defeat. I looked totally deformed. Being weak would simply mean I'd lose the girl. Back to square one.

But then it had an opposite effect. She nursed me in my weakest moments. She took great pleasure in caring for me unconditionally. It seemed to give her the chance to show her maternal side and qualify herself as a partner for life. With her I didn't feel like a freak. I was confused. All I was learning about game seemed to indicate weakness equaled death. But she nursed me to health and we carried on our beautiful affair.

I made a true heart connection. My heart was racing. It was alive. EVERYTHING was working again. I tried to tap into my old feelings of hurt and they were gone. Seriously, gone. I felt alive. At long last, the reason why I had started this journey was here, in front of me. I had lost my heart and soul. Now they were found. My ex's words, "I loved you no matter what" resounded in my head and I suddenly understood. And here was another real example of love, no matter what. I'd figured it out. I had the key. I knew the secret. Finally.

For several years, while learning dynamic attractions I had shut off the heart valve. And Natasha brought life to it. For months after this adventure I tried to bring up thoughts of past pains and ALL have disappeared. It is as though they never existed. I look on everything as a fond memory.

And as she left me at the airport that hot day two weeks later, I felt my soul being ripped away with only one promise to her. "I will see you again butterfly. I'm always with you".

I cried like a bitch that day and the next. It was a lesson in feminine energy. A power to cry that wasn't exclusively for women. I could be affected by another. But that day, unlike with my ex, I drowned out other women. When you see her you'll know why I don't ever want to ruin it. But this decision has been my choice. She was worse. She was crying a week later. I must be good.

As I stepped up as a prince, I believed I'd found my princess, and so far I have not found another woman who can come even close, except my ex, who left me so long ago.

How strange, but the day after Natasha left, my ex called me. I have always noticed she calls at the exact times I need, when I feel broken. She is very intuitive. We spoke for an hour and it cost me a lot of money on an international mobile telephone call (I called her back). I wished I'd never worried about money with her, but at that point in my life long ago, I felt I had no choice. She was happy with her man who treated her well, thank god and I believe she continues to grow her relationship with him.

I spent two days alone and counted the hours down until I could leave this country. I'd spent over two weeks in heaven and the final days seemed an anticlimax. And so I flew home with an uncertain future and an empty feeling of loss for my princess.

On that flight home as I pondered over my adventures and how far I had come, I thought of my ex and of Natasha. I thought of my ex and how far she had lived from me, how I could never afford to see her, how I could never be with her, and how helpless I felt at all of this with nobody to help guide my future. Then I realised something and a sickening feeling took hold of my stomach. I was back at square one.

Back at square one. I had gone full circle in the game and was in an even worse position than before. It was actually five times cheaper now to travel to my ex than it would be to travel to Russia to see Natasha and at least five times further. AND I was now earning five times as much as before. So, in actual fact, I was in the exact same position in my relationship with Natasha, than I had been with my ex. How the fuck did that happen? I was alone again. I'd found my princess, but so what? I couldn't afford to see her again, and she couldn't find the money to come to Australia on her wages. Life had chumped me. Was I its bitch? So I took my drama to my innergame guru, and loyal wing, Heath, and he explained my situation to me like this:

JAMES
When you have a low quality lifestyle, you will have low quality problems. Before the game you had a low quality life. When you have a high quality lifestyle you will inevitably have high quality problems.

GREG
Yeah... ok uhhuh...

JAMES
A low quality problem is you can't afford to pay your rent. A High quality problem is that you earned so much money you have to pay shitloads of tax unless you can put it in an offshore tax haven.

GREG
And this relates to me how?

JAMES
Look at your skills, your friends, your harem, your home and your life. Now look at the type of woman you met. She has the exact qualities you have been searching for. BUT she is on the other side of the planet.

GREG
Exactly. So I'm fucked.

JAMES
Yet in quantum physics you will find that life will repeat its lessons to you over and over and over until you finally learn what its trying so hard to teach you. That's why so many religions believe in reincarnation. Your situation is the same as with your ex, because last time, you may have made the wrong decisions. Now you have the chance to make the right one.

I started to understand that life wasn't bitch-slapping me. It wanted to wake me up and make some decisions. It wanted me to take life by the horns and ride it like crazy.

JAMES
Greg, you want to travel the world and learn Russian. You have a Russian princess and you need to get her here. Do you see a high quality opportunity here?

A moment of silence and stark reality.

GREG
I'm going to Russia, aren't I?

JAMES
You're going to Russia.

I had heard that an Australian man can get molested by women in Russia. I aimed to test this legend. Part of me, the P.U.A side, wished to see Russia as a single man. But I'm loyal to my girl until she's no longer my girl. The following adventure brought all of my experience and skill together. Without the game I think I would have died in Russia as a tourist. To venture into unknown territory, even for the most skilled P.U.A's is an almost final risk.

Of all the places to take a vacation, I was heading to Russia, a land described as a 'mystery wrapped inside an enigma'. I'd already spent two weeks with a high maintenance Russian princess in Thailand and I had come home feeling empty. I could not imagine it had to end there. Two choices lay ahead. Keep searching and sarging on an endless plateau, or carry my game to its end, to one of the mysterious places on earth, Russia. I knew what I would choose. I was different from other men. I was a prince.

My flight would be a 15 hour journey. Brisbane to Hong Kong, and then a transfer to Moscow. And this where my introduction to Russian life began. My flight from Brisbane to Hong Kong was with Cathay Pacific. The plane was decked out with large seats and a tv monitor for every passenger. On board there were well over a dozen movies as well as television shows from around he world.

Even flying economy felt like bliss. After every meal, we were presented with a damp towel to clean our faces. Drinks were served whenever we asked. The engine was quiet and I felt it easy to fall asleep. I must say I would recommend Cathay Pacific to anyone. My experience with Asian airlines has been nothing but fantastic.

Three hours later I boarded my transfer flight to Moscow with the national Russian airline, 'Aeroflot'. To me, even the name spells "No comfort". It is not a name that is prettied up for marketing. The plane was old and seemed rickety. The aisles were small and the seats should only have fit a child.

For the 7 hour flight there was no television or music, no magazines to read and no pillows to sleep on. The seats barely reclined and it made my neck sore. Two hours into the flight the food was served. A massive Russian man wheeled around the food trays to the tired guests. A polish man sat beside me, seemingly very hungry. The burly Russian man stopped and bluntly asked. "Do you want pork or chicken?"

POLISH MAN
What kind of chicken is it?

Now on a normal airline, while it being an ambiguous question, most hostesses would try to answer with, "Sir it is a Teriyaki Chicken lightly peppered with a side dish of fruit and dessert". But not on Aeroflot. This Russian leaned across my seat, to the Polish man and replied sternly,

RUSSIAN HOST
What do you mean, "What kind of chicken?" There is only one chicken ...

A scary moment, but I thought, "Fair enough answer. There is actually only one type of chicken". The Polish man quickly chose pork.

I must admit, I was expecting beautiful Russian women to line the aisles. But there were none.

I was pimped out and dressed for success, but I may have easily stood out as a tourist as I was not wearing tracksuit pants, something I had noticed many Russian men wearing in the movies I had seen. For the P.U.A, I was in standard issue stylish jeans and business jacket, topped off with long, silver necklace, leather wrist bands and expensive 'looking' watch. Maybe I vas overdressed but I didn't know what awaited me and I was taking no chances.

Russian customs officials greeted me without a smile and directed me to fill out an immigration card, yet they did not and would not supply me with a pen. I would have been through customs quickly at this point had it not been for the fact that they never supplied pens to fill out the immigration cards. Then, suddenly several hundred people rushed down the stairs and lined up to head through customs. I would be stuck at the back for another hour.

Finally I was through and on my way to see Natasha. After so many months I saw my her in a red jacket and tight jeans framing an even tighter ass. Only glass separated us but I could tell from the look of her excitement, I'd made a perfectly correct decision to take this trip. She wrapped her arms around me and I received the hottest kiss I'd had for some time.

Then suddenly a man approached me with a massive bottle of rum. With a big grin on his face he hugged me and said, "Welcome to Russia!", then stepped back and poured half this bottle into a cup that was almost as big. Handing it to me, he shouted, "When you visit our country you drink Rum! Russian tradition!" I looked at that daunting glass and knew I'd be sick.

I had overstepped my boundaries. A P.U.A does not drink. I'd be completely out of control and Natasha was not coming to my aid. She simply laughed and encouraged me. The pressure was on and my heart was seriously racing. But I put that glass to my mouth and sunk it down like a man. Strangely it went down smoothly and I seemed to be able to gulp it like water. No wonder the Russians could drink so easily. Natasha and this man laughed, along with another girl she had brought along. I was drinking iced tea. The laughs were on me. They filmed this moment for prosperity.

A good sense of humor goes a long way and it seemed that my Russian comrades shared my sense of humor. The man turned out to be Sergei and the girl, Katya, his girlfriend. They were an amazing couple that seemed as though they'd been best friends forever. Either this was a perfect relationship they had found, or a VERY comfortable one. To me, too much comfort meant too little sex. It was too early to tell.

For a P.U.A it is vital to have a good social outfit that brings value to your overall existence. Friends are simply friends but a social outfit meant that you felt extremely secure that you'd always feel entertained and have great stories to tell. These people were a social outfit. Double dating was a lot of fun.

We spent our first day traveling the Moscow bus service route and I was excited at seeing everything. I was even excited to see an empty can of coca-cola, written in Russian. The buildings were old and gray, the bus seemed on its last legs, the roads were slippery and the drivers had no patience.

But Russia was becoming 'westernized' and shopping cetres and sushi bars were popping up everywhere. Natasha was a big fan of sushi and that's where we were headed. As we walked the streets the first SMS arrived: "Greg it's Alena. Call me". Then the next: "Greg it's Alexandra. Hope you had a good flight. See you soon". Women I'd sarged on Skype were now eager to see me.

Moments later Alexandra called and Natasha and her friends looked at me with great curiosity as I excused myself. Alexandra was in the area. She knew where I was and her work was only minutes away. She was insistent on meeting me. But I had my woman here and my original plan of sarging Russia was falling away in place of a freak-show of sexiness in one amazing blonde bombshell. I needed to grow some real balls I realised as I heard myself saying, "Sure, I'll meet you in a few minutes.

I'd talked to Alexandra of relationships and she'd revealed that she had feelings for me, although she couldn't believe they were real because we'd never actually met. I was afraid of fireworks between Alexandra and Natasha. Natasha was pissed off, although she wouldn't say it. She simply became silent. Yes, women are the same in Russia. They use the same emotional blackmail.

Alexandra came bouncing around the corner and surprised me with a big smile and a big hug. But she'd cut her hair so short, it was similar to a man's. Deal breaker. I felt relieved. I needed any excuse to lose any immoral thoughts and this was it. I felt guilty even thinking of another woman, and now I didn't care. I introduced Natasha and Alexandra and they seemed like cats. An under the radar hissing came from Natasha and Alexandra, trying to take the higher ground. But I couldn't stay with Alexandra. We were to spend a day together later in my trip.

I found it difficult and rude to tell Alexandra she couldn't stay with us. There were already 4 of us and a 5th wheel wouldn't be tolerated with Natasha and Kat. Sergei didn't seem to mind at all.
After a big sushi meal, Kate and Sergei kindly delivered us to our hotel. They knew months had gone by without Natasha and I tearing each other apart, evident by Sergei's comment, "You two have some business to take care of. We'll see you tomorrow".

After we arrived to our room, we found two single beds. The shower was the first stop. We literally tore at each other while pushing each other under the shower. Her soft, tanned skin became wet and slippery. The water ran over her silky, shiny body and her blonde hair darkened as it became damp and messy. I kissed her entire body, licking every inch that I could. I needed relief and she was by far, the best woman I'd ever been with. The struggle was worth it.

Her breasts pressed up against my chest felt warm and if I pressed hard enough I could feel her racing heart beat. Then she went down and I could have sworn she must have been practicing before I arrived because she was freaking awesome at it. Then our wet bodies moved to the bed and I think we were a bit rough with each other because I noticed a few bruises on her and I had scratch marks down my back. That's passion.

The afterglow of such relieving sex meant that I was drained. I needed a couple of hours to recover. While I only need a couple of hours, it seems Natasha is a big fan of sleep and after these months I was shocked that she would spend so much time in dreamland. I hoped this would be a once-off. I didn't fly to Russia to sleep.

Natasha had bought the cheapest train tickets to her town of Nihzhny Novogorod. With the steam rising off the concrete, on that cold, late night we handed our tickets to the straight-faced, burly Russian ticket-master woman and stepped on board to be hit with the pungent odour of sweat. I couldn't place its source until I looked down our aisle.

Our plans of raw fucking on the train were dashed in a second when we stepped onto our carriage. Around a hundred, massive, muscle-bound Russian army soldiers lined the bunk beds of the entire carriage. And there was me, a little Australian man. A foreign man, with an amazingly beautiful Russian woman. Did I feel nervous?

They invited us to drink with them. This was crazy. On the right of me were two Russian men, in front of me were 3. To my right, Natasha. Mostly they gave the command, "Drink" and shoved vodka shots in my face, which I reluctantly drank. I was to meet Natasha's father in 4 hours. Her father is an ex-military man who achieved a very high rank during Russia's communism years. This was truly a rock and a hard place. But I found the more drunk I got, the better my skills at speaking Russian became. After a while I was in a daze. "Drink", came the order and I sank it down. "Drink", it came again and I began to lose focus. "Drink" and I put up slight resistance, and failed. "Drink. Russian tradition!". Who was I to deny them their tradition. "Drink!". I needed a break. I needed to survive. "Drink!" My throat burned and I could barely stand. But I tried. I was able to land on my bed, face down, at the mercy of these men.

So, lucky me, Natasha stayed up with these men and they tried to make their passes at her. She loved all the attention and I was helpless to stop it. They began to question her as to why a gorgeous Russian woman was with a foreigner, and expressed they didn't like their women leaving their homeland. My spider senses were tingling and I hoped that I wouldn't wake up naked on the train track somewhere, or worse, dead. I think they were all just chumping me. In an ideal world I would have drank them under the table. But what chance did I have against men who sank back vodka simply to keep warm.

In my hazy drunken state I looked up to see Natasha sitting there loyally awake, seemingly to protect me. I felt so safe with her there and I knew this woman was special. For all the brute strength all these military men held, it was nothing against her feminine power. She could have made them do anything. And a very drunk P.U.A had scored her. How could I expect this journey would put me on a smelly old Russian train, surrounded by massive, single army soldiers and a freakish Russian woman. This would prove to get stranger every day.

The morning broke and I woke to the sun glaring in my bloodshot eyes. I still felt drunk, but the sudden rushing of the men startled me. Natasha urged me to wake quickly as we'd arrived in her town and we were about to meet her father. I gathered my gear and I was forced to almost run. I didn't know why everyone seemed so urgent.

Her father greeted me with a smile that faded when he asked, "Have you been drinking?" "Me????...Noooooooo...." It was awkward to say the least. But as the army men stepped off, Natasha's father asked, "Russian army on your train? Of course you must drink. Come!". And we rushed to his car as he was late for work. If I thought a language barrier was difficult with Natasha, then I would only be guessing what her father was saying most of the time.

I'd waited for this woman, to be with this woman and I'd had sex for only one night. Now I was to spend the next few days with her family and I would not be getting laid, sleeping in their living room. How many days would I go without sex...again?

It turns out another 4. And she had a habit of trying to turn me on wearing a tight, satin nightie and denying me the pleasure for the sake of appeasing her parents. It was killing me. My b*lls would swell.

One of the moments I'd waited for such a long time was upon me. I was to meet Natasha's friend Ellen, the woman I'd seen in their lesbian, sexy photos. This was the woman I'd always felt was Natasha's lover. There seemed to be something more than simply friendship between these women and I was going have my chance to find out what. She lived several floors up from Natasha and she invited us up. I'd bought a sweet little gift of body chocolates for her to use in her other sexual adventures and she was delighted.

Not long after we stepped into her home she began eyeing Natasha sexually and complimenting her on her figure. She also complimented me and revealed that she'd love a threesome with us, jokingly. But there was a deep air of seriousness that simply waited for us to respond to positively. And then a strange thing occurred. Heath tells me I have a contradictive personality and it was here that I really noticed it. I could never want to share the woman I loved with another woman because I had fears of losing her and that she'd love the caress of a female more. But here I was considering the offer. What happened to my morals suddenly?

The dick has no morals. Thank god for the balance my brain and heart give.

Two nights later we all set off to a nightclub with her other gorgeous friend, Sonya. She had beautiful, thick hair that fell to her ass. She was a phenomenal dancer and used her body to attract the eyes to her on the dance floor. As I danced with her, Natasha and Ellen surrounded me. Russian dance music filled the room, three beautiful Russian girls rubbing up on me in a truly attention-grabbing scene.

I became lost in the moment and failed to notice two massive Russian men, staring at me with a 'kill' look on their faces. The man who told me was a friend of Natasha's who was also a P.U.A, mastering his attraction skills. In his broken English, he told me he had heard of me from the Internet and that he was so happy to actually meet me.

While we spoke different languages, all of the P.U.A lingo was exactly the same. P.U.A's have their own language, anywhere in the world. I was his new wingman, and I had a protector for the night. The crazy-looking men disappeared after he approached them. So while I was hooked up, I winged him with the 'Australian guy' gambit that was giving me an edge. P.U.A's will help you anywhere you go. They'll become your brother in a foreign land.

I went home with these three women, yet I fell asleep alone in the lounge room. Can you imagine how painfully turned on I'd become, knowing that my lady was in the other room, and her military-man father lay in his bed, probably with one eye open? Guess what I did that night?

The journey then took me to St. Petersburg and to so many amazing, historic locations. I could only imagine the battles that took place over the hundreds of years throughout Russia. The lifelike paintings of the Czars and the extravagant palaces of true Royalty, killed when Communism took it's hold in the early 20th century.

Of course, this is no history book. This is story of sexual conquest, and above-all, finding true love after a world-wide search. So, as the train from St. Petersburg took off to Moscow I had the strangest thought, "If my father had told me that one day I would be getting sweaty and naked, with a 10/10 Russian woman on an old communist train at 2am, headed for Moscow, Russia, I would have said "And get girl germs?? You're disgusting"". But that night got freaky. And in a tiny, isolated compartment on a lonely train, I twisted in every position possible. My back was sore the next day.

Time was ticking its evil hand again in my life.

Time limits. Time limits. Time limits. Always time limits on my love. Never stability. It seems I was only allowed 2-3 weeks a year to feel true love. For most of my life I'd experienced this. From my first, proper girlfriend once every 2 weeks, to the girl who took my virginity, seeing her once every two months, through to my ex, once a year, and now to my Russian princess. Painful time limits that nobody I have known ever experienced. And one of the reasons i found the Game.

But on my final day, as I left Natasha, once again at the airport, I left satisfied, knowing in my heart I'd found the right one. This would be the last time I ever experienced time limits. I didn't cry like a little girl. I didn't feel sorry for myself. And while she wasn't with me, I didn't feel alone.