2012 May 14 2012
 
  May 14, 2012   Posted by at 7:32 am   Fuckin 'around , Service Information   Tagged with: ,   7 Responses »

Question: What am I up to?

Answer: who cares?

True .. legitimate answer .. and quite acceptable .. even to me ... but since I have done is question might as well give the answer.

I'm coming back on the scene .. that I'm coming back to stir in the forums and dell'escorting. Why? In fact I'm not ever come out last year but I did some experiments ... some tests .. well I had fun doing the idiot (I can well .. interpretation by oscar).

So I come back to stir the murky world of the frequenters of the worst brothels of Calcutta as would clear ... but this time seen in a more ironic and funny ... less heavy.

It takes a little longer .. I'm not ready yet but I think the end result will be interesting, for sure I will make new "friends."

I also have other threads to resume and resume .. I just think that I have about 53 drafts waiting to be reviewed .. very strange thing for me because usually I write about the casting.

Surely most will end up in the trash because they are no longer relevant or simply because they feel the more my ... anyway ... unfortunately some will be saved for you.

2010 December 09 2010
 
  December 9, 2010   Posted by at 6:12 pm   Fuckin   Tagged with: , ,   23 Responses »

Ok ... since it's Christmas I make a "gift" too.

Lately she returned the curiosity around "Bibiebibo" .. the signature ... and other little things, all you can not reveal anything but yes.

And then reveal the mystery of the "signature" or the mystery of "ays"

You understand that it is an acronym, it is about understanding what it means, but first you need to tell you how I found out.

Those were different times, namely London a long time ago .. unknown (otherwise .. it starts again with the age ..) but several years ago and I was an adult and vaccinated.

I was in London for a mixture of business and pleasure and something about that time I've written in the past. London from the perspective of "escorts" is the maximum, it was then and still is I think. I had already attended this trend and here from time to time that is independent of any escort agency.

One evening I call an escort and I agree with you to a meeting. He comes to me and we spend a couple of hours decidedly pleasant. I remember perfectly the name "Mercedes", but unidentified Hispanic origin. I still have it somewhere on his business card that he left me, it was black with only the name in gold, phone number and a symbol in the name (in gold).

The symbol was the acronym "ays." All clear now? Not yet?

Clarified that is of Anglo-Saxon origin ... try to imagine what could be written on a business card to an escort. What does an escort? ... Ok .. so many things .. but one thing primarily: provides a service (.. at least in the Anglo-Saxon conception of escort).

So the "s" stands for "service" and now everything is clear.

The acronym is as follows: At Your Service, "at your service" literally but better understood as "to serve."

I liked the theme song and when I started writing in various forums and I had to find a signature, after using for a while, '"Love" but it was too saccharine ... here I inizato to use "ays."

The mystery is revealed that the signature was curious about a lot, and not just here on the blog but also in various forums. It is a great mystery but that's it.

There is still a long way to define ... like how did the nickname ... the story on the ship ... school age (this .. even with pliers Inquisitor ..).

ays Bibi

2010 Apr 27 2010
 
  April 27, 2010   Posted by at 11:18 am   Stories and Portraits   Tagged with: ,   6 Responses »

The initial phase of the new project has started and I have to say it went pretty well, so well that it is already walking alone. The still follow very closely but will not have to always be present and that was what I was hoping.

On the sidelines of everything that has happened I have to explain the title of the post otherwise you take me for a madman (oddio.. Not so difficult).

And 'success at the official presentation of the new project that I will not explain. In two words .. Remember when I wrote that I had gone to Rome to meet with a jerk of Parliament? Well .. from there started a project and now has materialized. And in Rome this week it was launched.

And that's where I made the guide. I must say it was very strange, for years I have benefited from the services of "escorts" and at the end, as in Dante's hell of a law of retaliation, I found myself "companion."

And 'all happened by chance and because of the four Russian words that I know of. There were also people who came from those parts, and then I found myself scarrozza three gals to rome. Among other things, it is not the Roman Empire, it was not exactly a walk.

But first things first.

It all starts with the presentation of the project followed by refreshments ect. ect. ect. followed by a nice fuck in the programs because, at the end of the day everyone had to leave for his cabbages. Big mistake because the three gals want to go around Rome but do not know a word that is not Romanian or Russian (two and a Romanian Russian). And then my "brilliant" I know you remember partner four crap in that language and I pretending to be a fine speaker and expert on the ways of Gogol .. (bastard inside ...) and assures the ladies that I will be their guide ... (bastard inside and out ..).

Now .. the ladies are not really "ladies" .... say things as they are, one (Russian) is a big woman about 40 years old and of considerable size, the two Romanian rather have thirty years, and a normal instead it is a considerable pussy (to put it in an understandable way at all).

It starts immediately for dinner and I have to improvise by drawing a random local Trastevere and thankfully I'm okay. The big woman Russian launches a taste of everything the steps to throw a fork ... while the "normal" (as the distinction from the "chick") just look snacking and little or nothing. The "chick" and it is normal but it gives us a little inside too with the wine of the castles.

At the end of dinner, the "buoy station" (the Russian) yields distorted by the last "tiramisu" swallowed up and wants to return to the hotel. Undecided until the last moment whether to call a taxi or a tow truck, I opt for the first and the fatigue load on the vehicle under the worried gaze of the taxi driver who tells me "aho ... I had just redone the armortizzatori .. .. Fuck them."

At this point it seems that everything goes well and I am going to call other taxi but the two stop me "hard" disk ...? That disk? Time? Steering wheel? Please specify ...

Sono cazzi… vogliono andare in discoteca a ballare… Ora.. io ho una certa età, non nego che da ragazzo ho frequentato discoteche ma si parla di luoghi che ora non esistono più…dove andavo io si sta scavendo per ritrovare i reperti dell'epoca e conservarli in un museo.. E tutto questo non accadeva a Roma.

Disperato chiedo aiuto al padrone del ristorante che impietosito mi snocciola qualche nome di discoteca abbastanza in voga nella capitale.

“Gilda”…”Jackie O”… “Piper”… cazzo ma sono gli stessi nomi che circolavano ai miei tempi! Ecco perchè la chiamano la città eterna! Poi arrivano altri nomi a me sconosciuti.

Erudito in cinque secondi sulla vita notturna della capitale, mi lancio e propongo alle tizie un primo locale. Via ..si parte.

Arriviamo in questo locale ed onestamente mi aspettavo qualcosa di meglio ma questo è quello che passa il convento e considerando che entrando ho visto in lontananza il Cupolone…mi pare un paragone adeguato.

The two embark on track regardless of everything and everyone. Rest a little shocked because they give points to the local cubist, if they had access to a pole ... I do not know where they would disappear .. I had stayed at the dances maybe a little more "normal" here is all a rub and a mood from porn movie. The fact is that in a short time the area is filled with "gadflies". What is a "gadfly"? And 'that insect extremely boring and insistent that as few bites and usually torture cows .. and Christians during the summer.

Where I come from is also to indicate those funny looking stubbornly to mate and copulate with all the girls, or women who like to throw the captain. In the disco if they were always and I see that this has not changed.

The two girls have attracted the attention of all the "gadflies" local and I have to say that the Romans as a "tafanaggine" have no rivals ... but the two are laughing at great and I understand that you are having to take the piss the cloud that surrounds them. I do my "hanger" that I lean on the wall, I drink and I look and I slam the Maronites thinking about what I have to do the next day.

After a couple of hours and at least three comsumazioni, the "chick" comes and tells me "where do we go now?" ..... Like where are we going? There are two options: to sleep or fuck it ... NO .. third option .. in another room .. because one is not enough, wants to see Rome .. ect. ect ... ect ...

Sorridenndo and bestemiando, move away the "gadflies" with both the normal and the output gain chased by curses on my future generations and praise the professionalism of my grandmothers and great-grandmothers throw me from them.

I opt for a local Testaccio and I find myself in a pit .. Crazy local level is quite low as people who music is fine but the two girls, will be the alcohol I think.

The chick is taken immediately assaulted by two really interesting examples of "male jerk" that is what makes the "conquistador" in disk specimens have in common ... a nice pitch on the head where you can park the buses of the faithful headed to St. Peter's , a lean physique .. nn but certainly athletic, discreet front have a "graveyard of pies" as they say a couple of comedians. And the eyes ... I do not know if it's just me but I noticed they eyed, constantly moving on every part of the body of the chick. I find myself thinking if I was like that, too, if I behaved the same way ... oh my God .. that figure shit .... if that were the case I would have given hole alone.

The normal she also has her work cut out to disentangle the various polyps that surround it, it all goes smoothly. The thing I get out of hand when the "chick" in slinguazzare begins with a man who must have free-range firearms because he has a gun in your pocket or at least I think.

The "gadflies" at this point you throw all the normal beginning to show signs of slowing down and in the end ... she gives up and moves slimonazza quite a gadfly. From the position of the hanger look sad disperse the horseflies were not disappointed, all with guns in his pocket and without being able to fire a shot.

Now I pose the question: how to go to sleep and take a nap without having to face the two duels Rusticana with the two horseflies? Or leave them there to fend for sun? I opt for a solution suggeritami by Quintus Fabius Maximus, temporized.

The chick continues to amaze me because she is in practice almost scopazzarsi the gadfly while the normal is more a victim than victimizer. Things go for long and I'm almost asleep when the scenario changes abruptly. The two greet their horseflies, you slinguazzano and then calmly come to me and tell me that we can go ... I'm surprised but I do not find the exact words to describe the faces of the two horseflies downloaded that way .. there are no words really, I should do just a picture but I feel that if I want to get out alive is something to be avoided.

By taxi the two big laugh and then I speak a little bit of the evening. The discussion continues in the hotel and in practice, I trust that they just wanted to have a little fun, are both married and with children as well. Never had intentions to go further, just a bit of fun and nothing more, and indeed the chick asks me if by chance I have offended or if I have created problems. "Absolutely not," was my answer and I have to say that I know lie pretty well and I think he bought it.

When I get in the room I think back to the evening and I think of all the various managers that after stressful meetings or conferences eventually "relax" with various escorts. I worked for a while in a multinational vied to go to conferences or take positions for short periods in remote locations to go to whores.

The two gals had fun at the end and did not do anything more than what they normally do hundreds of men, indeed .. were also good at stopping. What can I say?

I can only say that I did the escort and all in all it was fun .... I will open a new career?

2010 Mar 03 2010
 
  March 3, 2010   Posted by at 10:22 am   Fuckin   Tagged with: ,   3 Responses »

Today I glanced to the search terms by which some poor wretch comes in this wasteland that is my blog.

"The ways of God are endless," they say and also your search terms apparently. There are curious, strange, and crazy for even longer. Girl with a suitcase has devoted a page and did very well.

Today one made me laugh like few others .. in part because it is related to my recent past and in part because it means you just do not get the idea of ​​what you look for ..

In practice, a guy came to this blog searching with google: "escorts in london less than 80 pounds."

Now calculator in hand .. 80 pounds is equivalent to about 88 euro!!

At this point it is necessary to give some advice to this dear friend likely hood bitch (but I will remain only an aspiration ..).

Dear friend .. in London with 80 pounds ... if you can throw a party with a dark, understood as a Guinness at the pub. Le escorts, intendendo per escort ragazze di un certo livello, non le tossiche che trovi a king's cross, per 80 pounds non ti stringono neanche la mano.

Ed a dire il vero…anche in Italia mi sa che devi continuare a fare affidamento su Federica perchè con 88 euro di escorts trovi poco o niente.

Sai cosa posso fare? Mandami una mail che ti metto in contatto con Confucia…magari con 80 pounds puoi combinare ….

ott 02 2009
 
  ottobre 2, 2009   Posted by at 3:31 pm   Commentando le news , Prostituzione   Tagged with: , , ,   4 Responses »

Siccome siamo in una democrazia dove c'è ampia libertà di stampa e quindi non c'è pericolo che i video con le dichiarazioni della D'Addario spariscano come neve al sole …ho pensato di riproporli.

Una piccola letterina a Silvio…

Silvio, caro amico puttaniere di lungo corso, devi stare tranquillo ed ammettere le puttanate che fai. In ogni caso sono meno gravi delle puttanate che dici…tipo quella del milione di posti di lavoro. Rilassati e pensa a Clinton, lui per un pompino a momenti perdeva la Casa Bianca, tu per un pompino hai dovuto fare solo una Ministra e rischi di perdere Villa San Martino ma ne hai altre di residenze .. in sardegna, ai caraibi…ad hammamet…

incorporato da Embedded Video

2008 November 22 2008
 
  November 22, 2008   Posted by at 11:31 pm   Racconti e Ritratti , Sounds & emotions   Tagged with: , , , , ,   No Responses »

Ero indeciso tra i ricordi di una brumosa Londra o di una solare Russia. Sì, solare perchè la Russia può essere solare. Duval me l'ha fatta ricordare con un gioco di incastri passati.

Però ho deciso di tornare con la mente a Londra, circa un tot di anni fa. E lì ho incontrato Tamzin.

Cosa dire di più di quanto detto prima con Christine? Londra, soldi..solo ..ect. ect. la pasticceria.
Tamzin era una delle paste esposte. Meravigliosa.

Era un incrocio di razze e come spesso succede era il meglio di tutte e due. Metà tamil e metà inglese. Mai capito se di madre o di padre ed a dire il vero mai fregato nulla di saperlo.

Come già scritto, a Londra c'erano (e pensano ci siano ancora) agenzie tematiche, se volevi una ragazza di colore chiamavi un'agenzia, se volevi una ragazza asiatica un'altra e così via.

Una sera chiamai un'agenzia che mi mandò Tamzin.


PS è un esperimento, musica..racconto e forse ..non so..però ho voluto provare qualcosa di diverso.
Magari ci sarà una seconda parte..magari no.

nov 08 2008
 
  novembre 8, 2008   Posted by at 1:23 pm   Racconti e Ritratti   Tagged with: , , , , ,   1 Response »

Prologo: tempo e luogo

Londra, tanto tempo fa.
Come si fa a non innamorarsi di una città così quando non si hanno grossi problemi, non si hanno vincoli e ti girano un pò di soldi in tasca?

In quel periodo della mia vita ero in questa idilliaca condizione; giovane ma non troppo, nessun vincolo particolare, discreta disponibilità finanziaria dovuta ad un buon lavoro e nessun mutuo da pagare. In questa condizione mi trovo a vivere a Londra per circa un mese. Li chiamano “stage formativi”, in realtà per me è una vacanza a tempo pieno.

Prendo casa in una zona centrale. Il primo tentativo è un disastro allucinante, contatto un'agenzia che mi trova una “kind location”…vicino a Kings Cross Railroad Station. Tradotto in pratica mi trova un cesso di camera in una specie di ostello vicino alla stazione di kings Cross, quella dove son bruciate una valanga di persone durante un incendio.

Apart from the process in common with a group of strangers at a guess they have many years younger than me but many more problems than me to make ends meet and maybe some problem with the proper use of substances derived from opium, the rest of the room is simply a copy of the process above. The "location" is set in a corner with magnificent views of the "pizza hut" and consequent beneficial free of fragrances and aromas coming from the same. When you consider that white is a color that is not very frequent among the patrons of the sidewalks surrounding nightlife, here is the picture of a perfect place where you can shoot yourself in peace and have all the extenuating circumstances of the case.

Step two nights in my great room, sleeping but little by tightening a healthy and sincere friendship with a family of cockroaches living there for three generations. During the day I spend my time looking for an accommodation where to relocate even though I know that doing so will break my heart to my room neighbor, a young Spanish arrived two days before me that when I arrived he hugged me like I was a brother. I was the first "normal" person he met for three days.

Finally on the third day I find an accommodation within the reach of my finances. Incidentally, I would be willing to steal the crown jewels in order to leave. The new "location" decidedly more welcoming. I found another room in Knightsbridge. How to tell from rags to riches. For those who were not practical, it is (.. was .. maybe it still is ..) a very pretty area, a stone's throw from Hyde Park, close to Harrod's, close to the legendary King's Road (the street famous for fashion). . then how do you say "I turned."

The rent and also has turned a lot but you only live once and then ..

On the fourth day, I wake up, I open the window and see in the distance a piece of the park and then it says that happiness is hard to get!

For three or four days messing around on the streets like a moron, you know movies like "An American in Paris" or something? My internship has not started yet so I can try to enjoy the city and figure out how to move.

I find the London squares and streets strangest and then step guide to London with all the stops classic that it is unnecessary to list. Remarkable thing, a little bar with authentic Italian coffee in the heart of Soho.

Soho is rather a disappointment crazy, life in the neighborhood of vice London is a sadness. Much better move along "the thames." Then there are an infinite number of rooms in the convent garden and the theater district. Dancing a little bit everywhere and I find the area of ​​Camden. In short, the first week I like to fuck right and left like few others.

I begin the internship, commitment and minimum frequency only in the morning, in practice it is a godsend. Among other things, it is not even very far away, paddington area. I shall digress. Paddington is an area, in my opinion, very beautiful with a whole series of old style houses with white colonnades that is contaminated by a strong presence of Indians. I do not know if this has affected but the area is also teeming with ads for dating a fee.

Actually, this is one of the things that I saw right away. The first time I telfonato from a booth, I was surprised; throughout the cabin was covered with andesivi and business cards for escorts, bdsm, ethnic, call girls, call-boys ... ect ect. in short, all the samples was at hand. The feeling was that of a child left alone in the bakery.

And here the story begins.

Part One: the pastry or easy sex

What does a child left alone in a bakery? Of course ... taste the pastries.

And then one day I am at the regent's park sitting on a bench with a business card in hand. Business black with gold lettering in italics big "Mercedes" and below "the dreams become truth" and behind only "call at xxxxxxxxxxxxx).

You only live once ..... remember?

"Hello, mercedes speaking, may I help you?" Sure you can help me ... and so between a joke and a bit of embarrassment fixed the meeting. It is not really cheap, I would say pricey but does nothing. I will not tell how it went, and it went very well.

And so it all begins. If it had gone wrong I would not be here to tell and write.

After Mercedes try some other girl. Someone may say, "but why do not excuse you're looking for a no pay? a normal girl like everyone else. " Well, in fact I even found a couple of girls "normal" but normality is a very relative concept in England and London means specially. One evening I spend the evening in a pub drinking beer and playing dards and lose without restraint, however, I am referring to the snooker. Between dard, a beer and a game of snooker, I make friends with abitueè the pub. It 'a rare and difficult thing. usually the group of regulars not shit ever again, much less tourists but maybe because I lose a lot of darts became sympathetic.

At closing time I find myself with two girls in the group, nothing special, but pretty average. "Italians do it better" and similar crap and I finally found himself to sleep by them. Sleep .. understatement to say that I am to spend the night with them. I have never been a lover of the orgy, dell'ammucchiata, I do not like the traffic "on the bed" but will have been alcohol or another eventually ended up with two girls so "normal."

I go to a girl dle my internship, I attend in the sense that sometimes comes out to eat and ended up there. It 'a Hungarian girl who claims to be related to not know who important of his country. Very pretty and even a little strange. will also be related to an important person, but one day while we eat sitting on a bench in a small park asks me if I Farel a favor. "Of course," replies the Italian turkey doc (Of Origin crap). "Can I borrow 50 pounds?" Is the angelic request. Now, she has about twenty-two, blonde, a beautiful body, two big blue eyes that are now puppy model of cooker and stares at me hopefully. What do you think has been answered by a true gentleman Italian d.oc.? That's right, just that. Incidentally I have no ulterior motives but rest a little surprised by the request and in any case the advance that this loan is yet to be paid years later. Let's say that I have funded the development of an emerging country of Eastern Europe.

This explains why the use of tickets and ads. Much more relaxing and less complications and misunderstandings. If I go out with a call-girls and this asks me the rest of the money is not surprised, it is normal. if I go with two and we end up in bed, I'm not surprised, it is normal. You only live once and that shit .. at least quietly.

The choice is wide and varied, it is a supermarket open 24 to 24. There are ethnic and sectoral agencies for lovers of the genre. I do not have particular tastes and then go on classic things. One evening I call an agency and I answered a nice enough guy, fixed the meeting and sent me home girl Christine.

And here begins another story.

Part Two: You

Christine arrives on time like clockwork. I open the door and the space is occupied by a mass of curly blond hair, wavy ... and a fabulous smile. Green eyes smiling with golden hues and shining with its own light. "Hi, I'm Christine" has a beautiful voice, friendly and kind, cheerful. Defining moment: a calendar girl.

First rule the financial matters with the usual envelope and then begin to talk a little bit. Well .. we do not talk to much to be honest because I honestly can not stand to look at her very only. What about what happened? I can say it was a remarkable experience, she smiles, then laughs and smiles again. I often shoot shit in English and talk about anything and everything. At the end we are talking about a lot of things and in our drink, a laugh and a kiss. At the end of the evening we say goodbye and I say "You are very funny, thanks."

In the morning I do not go to the stage, go to the park, not Hyde Park, prefersico the other is near. Rest there for a while to look around and then go to the subway up to Covent Garden and rest there to see who has the bigger head. I muffled my head, I seem to walk 30 inches from the ground or close to heaven depending on your point of view. I have a feeling the space / time considerably distorted. In the late afternoon return to my room and call Christine.

He left me his home number. The night before, he told me that he lives with his sister who is now on. have recorded a song as an answering machine that says it is a hoot. I dial the number.

"Hello ......." and begins a song for two voices is a disaster but definitely fun because you feel that you recorded in a time when the alcohol is going to take a trip outside of the liver, and spent the evening with the duodenum.

At the end of voicemail leave a message with my phone number. Phrases that do not mean anything but that at the moment I seem smart and beautiful. After about half an hour the phone rings. And 'her.

"Hello funny italian! How are you? "Thus begins and it is already finished or maybe it started .. I do not know what, but I know that at that time" something "happened. Laughing and joking we arrange to meet for the evening. A payment is clear.

While we're on time, we decided to go get something to eat together. Idiot .. do not even know where to take her! I do not know who the other places where I eat sandwiches or some other crap in the pub and I invited her out to eat! Christine arrives on time as always, a little in advance and if yesterday had seemed nice, now I'm sure it is beautiful. I do not know yet where to go and she must have realized that they are a little messed up. It offers her a place close by. Ok, gone. It 'a place very similar to where I'm going, sandwiches, some crap and nothing more. A beer and some crap that I honestly do not know what it is but I do not care. She is in front of me and that is enough and move forward. He tells me he wants to get her breast again would increase it. It seems to me that he is fine as it is. "Noooooooo .. i want to page Became a third girl." For those who were not practical, the girl of the third page is told the newspaper "The Sun" on the third page that has a habit of inserting the topless photos of various starlets and is the most widely read newspaper page that makes it seem like the rest "Corriere dei Piccoli" an authoritative header. We continue to discuss the size of her tits and in general the perfect size of boobs. All this with a normal tone of voice and what do I see that it's interesting that the other patrons with looks more or less competent throw an eye on her tits Christine.

We go out and we are naturally embraced. Let's go back to my "home, sweet home."

And here begins another story.

Epilogue: ..... and so is

I've never seen again Christine, I was in London at other times but never have I found the courage to try to call her, to find her. I did one evening a few years ago. A special evening where the head goes its own way and you draw imaginary lines of the budgets of life and you count the good things and the bad things that one has done. The number is still there, I even now after many years and so I called her that night. I was lucky, she was there but there was not a song.

.... You only live once .... but inside you die many times.

2008 September 30 2008
 
  September 30, 2008   Posted by at 11:36 am   The Four Seasons   Tagged with: , , , ,   5 Responses »

It was a cold December 1991, yet people roamed the streets eating ice cream at will, even two or three at a time. The first time I saw such a thing I was stunned, I was told a lot of things but this was a novelty. Then the gentle interpreter told me it was a way as any to eat, the caloric value of the ice cream was a great help to the basic diet of the Muscovites and Russians in general, the fact that it was December mattered little to a people accustomed to cold and then the consistency of the Russian ice cream was different.

Unconvinced urged me to give it a try and he was right; different texture, taste great and very mellow, a good dessert that you could actually eat even while the snow was falling. At the very boring lunch circumstance I saw her.

High, slightly auburn hair, a sweet face but well-defined and strong. When I hear talk of Russian women most of the time it turns out the word "country girls". Perhaps, the climate and hard work have graced the faces of most parts of women, but next to them you can find the faces of a stunning beauty that leaves you breathless.

More than once I stopped watching children on the street who were the personification of the putti of Giotto or Michelangelo. Natasha, belonged to the second category of women, if they were smart in that moment I would have signed anything to go off alone with her. I finally get to talk to her, good English studied at university, better than mine.

I release the interpreter and ask you to accompany me around the city, but always banal excuse efficace.Con surprise agree and begin to turn to Moscow still marked by a coup attempt. The front of the white house in Moscow, the parliament, still bears the marks of the guns of the tanks. The cold is terrible when we get to Arbat street but suddenly everything changes.

By her side within a new world and old at the same time. Stalls with all the possible and the impossible; Russian watches alongside wonderful service of porcelain, precious Baltic amber with fine carved ivories. Endless junk of the past regime, pictures of Lenin, Stalin, and anyone else who has had some charge, or plaster busts of iron or as you put voglia.Bandiere red, American, early punk, illegal money changers that change a dollar to 55 rubles while the official exchange rate stands at 2.80 if I remember correctly.

In the midst of this humanity, Natasha who calmly and a sweet smile with me and guide me from one stall to another. Asks prices, I recommend what to take and what to leave out. Do not you realize that I'm not looking at the stalls but she and only she, the light snowfall that falls covering the tufts of hair protruding from his bearskin, or I will be the cold but his eyes shone with a special light.

After a while 'go in a side dell'Arbat where turning a bit' on the right and a little 'left, we finally find a small cafe in an old cellar that the new pseudo capitalist spirit has given rise. The "chai" Russian tea served in a classic glass of glass warms me like never before, or maybe the fact of me being there with her enough.

Rest in Moscow for five days. Natasha I have not known as an escort, I met her in a different way. It introduced me to a great country in a different way.

July 1996 I returned to Moscow for the last time.

The old Inturist near Red Square is a war surplus compared to the new hotels. In the streets the mercedes and bmw whizzing of the new rich in the midst of the lada. Step dall'Arbat and infinite sadness strikes me as soon as I see a nice name "Pizzeria Bella Italy". Maybe they are the same Italian mobsters who met in the night of the "Pribaltiskaja" in St. Petersburg in 1992 and arguing amiably about what "import" and "export" confident that the Neapolitan language is not easy to access if you do not have friends from Naples .

Where there was a fantastic little shop of antiquities, there is now a stupid clothes shop. On the way, I do not stop to observe more children, at night I can only see girls who are waiting down the road. Progress can not be stopped, maybe .... but in some cases it should be stopped.

I have not seen Natasha, I never wanted to see her again, maybe I was right or I may have done wrong, certainly this story I will stay inside and will always be one of the many crosses that I had to face in life and where my destiny is changed to Depending on which road I took.

With love Bibi

PS Tonight fly it snowed and it's cold.

PP.SS. I decided to take the four seasons. "Winter's Tale" is something written so long ago and published in a forum and which I quoted in full, the other stories are now already been written but has not said that I will not make additions.

Una nota a margine del già inserito ”Racconto d'autunno”: è un racconto che va interpretato localizzandolo nel forum dove è stato proposto ed avendo una minima esperienza del vissuto raccontato.

dic 22 2007
 
  dicembre 22, 2007   Posted by at 5:04 pm   Riflessioni   Tagged with: , ,   2 Responses »

Penso di essere arrivato al termine del viaggio. Questa è stata una bella esperienza maforse è finita. Ho fatto altre cose e son tornato ad altre cose che mi piacciono di più. Se poi queste andranno a finir nella palta…pazienza. E' qualche tempo che studio ed imparo. Ho deciso di metter su un forum. Tutti dicono che i forum son finiti; può essere ma i blog mi annoiano e quindi torno al primo amore. Tra breve inserirò il linke se qualcuno vorrà visitarlo…prego.

Attenzione però!!! Forum vietato ai minori dato che tratterà sempre e comunque di un argomento “proibito” e cioè escort, sesso ed affini. A presto e buone feste.

nov 03 2007
 
  novembre 3, 2007   Posted by at 5:16 pm   Racconti e Ritratti   Tagged with: , , , ,   2 Responses »

Come molti ho avuto anch'io occasione nelle mie frequentazioni di incrociare delle escort rumene. Oddio, magari definirle “escort” è forse troppo, meglio magari il termine “loft” ma poco importa.

La chiamerò “Gala”, nome di fantasia anche perchè non so che fine abbia fatto. E' una storia cherisale a qualche anno fa, direi circa 7 o 8 per la precisione. Era il mio periodo di “ritorno” all'attività di fruitore di servizi di sesso a pagamento (puttaniere in vulgaris…).

In quelperiodo ero ancora molto legato all'uso della carta stampata e così gli incontri venivano selezionati e scelti in base agli annunci sui vari quotidiani. “AAaaaaa ect” o “Massaggi…ect” che però volevano dire solo una cosa. Anche lì c'erano dei segreti che “l'esperto” conosceva, alcuni giornali erano da evitare, altri erano solo per un certo tipo di servizi (basso livello) altri erano per escort di lusso..insomma non era semplice e forse il divertimento era tutto lì.

Ogni tanto cercavo anche di trovare qualcosa che fosse diverso dal solito, in pratica di “scoprire” qualche ragazza particolarmente interessante. Su un giornale noto per l'elevata possibilità di “sole” trovo un annuncio un pò naif e così mi lancio. Telefonata: voce gradevole con un leggero accento straniero ed in breve combiniamo.

Quando la vedo resto sorpreso. Gala è una gran bella ragazza, niente da dire. Tralascio le parti che solitamente interessano di più nei vari forum dedicati e cioè gli aspetti tecnici dato che non avrebbe molto senso. Diciamo solo che siamo quasi ad un 10.

Episodio curioso che vale la pena di raccontare.

Location: motel alla periferia di milano

Personaggi: due, io e lei

Costumi: nessuno in quel momento

Ciack, azione: lei si alza e va in bagno poi non riesce più ad aprire la porta per uscire.Provate ad immaginarvi cosa mi è passato perla testa in quei minuti.

A parte l'episodio, lego subito molto con Gala. Scopro che è al suo secondo giorno di “lavoro” e che non conosce molto bene “cosa” e “come” deve farlo. Breve bigino sulle varie situazioni ed una preghiera di attenersi sempre a “certe” regole e poi con il passare del tempo mi racconta un pò anche di lei. Rumena originaria della zona dove imperava il conte Vlad. Poco o niente in Romaniae quindi decide di fare il salto della quaglia e lo fa in un altro paese dove si sposa. Fine della prima parte della storia per fine del tempo.

Dopo un paio di giorni ci risentiamo e la rivedo. Questa volta a casa sua. Riprendiamo la storia e così mi fa vedere l'album delle foto del matrimonio,la cosa strana è che manco ho visto le mie. Allafine mi racconta che ha lasciato il marito e si è trasferita in Italia da un'amica ed ha anche trovato un lavoro. Piccolo particolare; con il lavoro si paga a malapena l'affitto ed allora quando ha finito i soldi ha cercato una soluzionee visto che dove lavora tutti le stavano dietro ha pensato di mettere a frutto questo aspetto.

Ci vediamo ancora per parecchie volte. Gala è forse stata l'unica che ho frequentato un certo numero di volte; solitamente avevo fatto mio il motto di Paganini ma Gala è stata l'eccezione. Quando mi sono accorto che le cose avevano preso una piega che non mi era consona,l'ho vista per un'ultima volta e poi basta. Gala era solare,divertente e per niente sconvolta o preoccupata,aveva scelto lucidamente cosa fare ed in autonomia.

Passano anni e poi un giorno di quattro anni fa ritrovo un biglietto con il suo numero di telefono.Curiosità, follia o chissà cosa e la chiamo.

Con mia grande sorpresa mi risponde, il telefono è sempre attivo. Con gioia ma anche imbarazzo mi faccio riconoscere e così decido di passare a trovarla subito. Abita in una bella zona di Milano ora, non un grande appartamento ma carino. Faccio fatica a riconoscerla, è cambiata e parecchio. Il fisico che prima era un pò ruspante è ora uno spettacolo; alta lo era sempre stata ma adesso è anche più slanciata, dimagrita di qualche kilo nei punti strategici e forse aumentata in altri.

Il colore dei capelli è cambiato e pure il taglio. Il sorriso è sempre quello invece. Mi insulta con allegria chiedendomi dove fossi finito.Scopro che lei ha ovviamente continuato, anzi si è “evoluta”. Dalla carta stampata è passata agli annunci sulla rete, è stata una delle prime ad entrare nel web.

Mi dice che ha cambiato “clientela” , è passata ai clienti da un milione come minimo e con gusti anche strani. Mi racconta di un tizio di Firenze che la pagava una cifra per andare a Firenze per il fine settimana e tutto quello che succedeva era che il tizio si spippettava con le sue calze.

E così di seguito.Ora aveva un “ragazzo” o meglio uno che la manteneva e di tanto in tanto aveva qualche cliente affezionato. In pratica stava bene. Non riceveva più a casa ma oramai ero lì e quindi….

Non l'ho più rivista e non l'ho più chiamata. Ho ancora il suo numero di telefono, un giorno di due anni fa mi trovai per caso a passare sotto casa sua ed ho visto che il suo nome è ancora lì sul citofono. Ora spero solo che qualche pirla non la prenda a calci perchè è rumena.