My second trip to Ukraine was coming to a close. This time I stayed for three months, and had only one last weekend before I was set to leave for Poland. One thing greatly bothered me: after living in Ukraine for a total of six months, I had not scored a one-night stand. Not one. My most recent results were all from day game. While I’m thankful to receive any sexual delights from Ukrainian women, the thrill of a one-night stand cannot be matched by a day bang.
One of the reasons for this failure is that I partially gave up on night game since it was harder, but at this last hour I became determined to get a fast bang before leaving. With only two nights to accomplish this mission, I devised a four-pronged strategy to accomplish my goal.
First, I was ready to make at least 15 approaches a night. Typically I’d only do three or four, but in the previous two weeks I stepped my game up to prepare for the final assault. Second, I must be the last man to leave the club. Horny girls sometimes don’t reveal themselves until the end. Third, I must be more sexual early in the conversation. Girls who aren’t DTF must be quickly weeded out and discarded. Lastly, I was not allowed to get a phone number.
My main goal was to get the girl back to my apartment. Sex should be close coming, I hoped, if I could achieve that. It would be a very sore point for me if I didn’t succeed, even though I pegged my chances at winning at less than 10%.
I met with Roger, my American friend in the center of the city. We sat on a bench and debated our options: Arkadia (the club district), True Man (the rock club a taxi ride away), or the hipster bars in the center. They all have several downsides, but we decided that Arkadia with its outdoor clubs would give us the best chance for a one-night stand. He stated how he wanted to try some street game there and I agreed that it would be worth it, but by the time we arrived, it was apparent this wouldn’t work because of the dropping temperature. Few people were there and both of us were physically cold.
We each tried a couple of approaches in front of the clubs. They went nowhere. Even though it was a Friday night, the scene felt more like a Sunday night. One club, Itaka, was packed but it was for a concert. The best club, Ibiza, was more than half empty.
I decided to call an audible. “We can go in these clubs, but it’s cold, and we won’t be able to game properly. Plus it’s mostly dead. The indoor section of Ibiza is warmer but loud. I say we go to the hipster bars in the center.” It was a risky move, but my logic was good. The weather added an unfortunate dimension to the equation, and since Arkadia’s outdoor clubs are intended for summer, cold weather made them useless.
After Roger accepted my audible, we found a taxi. On the way over I said, “We have to assume that the hipster bars will suck.”
“Maybe they won’t,” he replied.
Well, they did suck. Five guys for every girl. I became depressed, because I was ready to do fifteen approaches but was stuck at three with no other opportunities. There was another bar worth checking out called Captain Morgan’s. I heard it was for light scammers, but there was no other choice. On the walk over, I bitched about how a city of over 1 million people could have so few nightlife options.
We went to Captain’s. The ratio wasn’t great but it was workable. I did three approaches but they barely went better than the ones I did on the street. I looked around to see no other girl to work on. My friend semi-hooked with one girl. Old foreigners were gawking at the half-naked dancers, slipping money in their g-strings even though the place wasn’t a strip club. I felt like my night was ending, but I didn’t want to give up. I told my friend I was going to briefly return to the hipster bar.
There still weren’t many girls, but I did see one. I was aggressive in approaching despite her large group, which happened to include her brother. The approach hooked. I knew I needed the one-night stand, so after 15 minutes, I asked sexual questions:
“When was the last time you had sex?” Four months.
“Do you want to come to the beach with me and make love?” No. Probably too cold for that anyway.
I didn’t say “I’m joking.” She knew I was ready to smash, but at the same time I kept teasing her to make it seem like I wasn’t completely sold on her. She asked me if I wanted to go outside to smoke and of course I agreed, having learned my lesson about smoking in Lithuania. I smoked up a storm, away from her friends, and I asked her if she had a nice ass. She said she didn’t, and she was mostly accurate.
We went back to the bar and I bought a round of drinks. We sat close. I said, “I need a little kiss.” She leaned over and kissed me on the lips. This was the first time a Ukrainian girl kissed me first, and I made a mental note to use the line again.
Now it became a matter of logistics. Thanks to calling the audible earlier, we were within eight minutes walking distance of my apartment, but there was the issue of her brother and best friend. They seemed intent on watching her, so I relaxed my octopus hands to make it seem like I was a gentleman. It helped that I was dressed nice, due to the original plan of hitting the fancy club instead of the hipster bar.
When the bar was about to close, I suggested that we go for a walk. Keen on the idea, she brought it up to her friend and brother, but I could sense some resistance from them. In English, I asked the friend, “Do you mind if I take her for a walk? I want to spend more time with her.” The friend wanted to say no, but couldn’t, since I asked politely, and replied, “It’s up to her.” My girl said she wanted to.
There was more talking and then I asked the brother for permission to take her for a walk. I said, “I’ll put her in a cab when she’s ready to go home.” He was also resistant, but thanks to the girl’s persistence, I got a tentative “yes.”
A problem developed: they decided to tag along with us. They walked a block in front of us for some time, so what I did to shake them was make a discrete turn to go the long way to my apartment. They didn’t follow and my girl didn’t mind. I finally had her isolated.
Early in the night she had spoken pretty good English, but she said she was tired of English and only wanted to speak in Russian. So my Russian made its appearance, and remained for the rest of the night.
Inside my apartment she only wanted water. Then she said she wanted to sleep. I got down to my boxers while she was fully clothed. Once on the bed we started going at it. Her ass was small, but it complemented her tiny body, so my boner was full strength.
Resistance was high, as I expected. I persisted in removing her bra. Her shirt was open and her jeans were unbuttoned. Then she said she was on her period. I told her I didn’t care. When she realized I’d seriously bang her, blood and all, she changed her excuse. “This is too fast,” she said. I told her all my best relationships start with passion. Then she said she’s a virgin, quickly modifying it to say she had sex once. I knew she would suck in bed, but I still wanted to bang. Then she said she was tired. Basically any excuse that exists not to fuck, she was throwing at me. I’m usually good at using words to defeat these problems, but I didn’t know how to translate many things in Russian, and she acted like she didn’t understand my English.
I rubbed her vagina through her jeans for a couple minutes, but she seemed indifferent. I put her hand on my cock but she didn’t know what to do with it. She had no moves. Nothing I was saying or doing was moving me forward. I could only get the jeans off enough to see she was wearing some type of delicious rainbow panties.
I thought that maybe she’s the type of girl that needs to be dominated before giving it up. So I got on top of her and held her down, but she whined and complained, threatening to leave. I knew then that I was not getting laid. I went from an English-speaking girl who kissed me first to a Russian-speaking girl who insisted on going to sleep.
In the morning I made a last ditch effort, but beyond a little kissing, she wasn’t having it. Then I suggested we go out later in the week. My moral conscious came into play, because if we went out on Thursday (after her phantom period was over), and I left for Poland on Saturday as planned, I would feel a little bad. So I lied small instead of big: “I’m going to Poland for one month because of visa issues before coming back.”
Big mistake. She was not pleased with this answer. “I don’t want only sex. Sex is nothing for me!” I had noticed. When she gave me a quick kiss goodbye, she said that when we meet again, she wasn’t going to have sex with me. It was obvious to me that her passion was directly correlated to her inebriation. As she lost the buzz, she become more frozen, and my only regret is not buying an insurance shot before we left the club.
Though this night ended in failure, it was the closest I got to a one-night stand in Ukraine. I think it spoke well to my new strategy and my desire. I had one more night to try again.
CONTINUED: Part 2