4 comments/ 13445 views/ 9 favorites To Russia for Love By: fantasyhunter2 I joined the agency two days after I graduated from college. I was heavily recruited for the position having been what my university called a scholar-athlete. What that meant was that I had very high grades in a rigorous academic program while participating in team sports. My 4.0 average in international studies with a minor in linguistics got me noticed by the recruiter. My fit body and athleticism practically made the guy foam at the mouth. Not that I was pro quality or anything, but I did contribute to the football team winning our conference twice and making three bowl appearances. Not everyone can make second team all-American. I also ran track. I had blown the recruiter off when he first approached me. I was planning to go to graduate school, maybe even get a law degree. I wanted to be a diplomat and maybe even president someday. I wouldn't even entertain the idea of spying for my country, especially for some super secret agency that I hadn't heard of before my junior year. But this fucking recruiter was relentless. He simply refused to take no for an answer. In the end he convinced me that I could do more good at the agency then in the diplomatic core. The job paid better also and I would be able to pursue graduate studies in my downtime. What he didn't say was that there was damn little downtime in the spy business. I breezed through boot camp with a group of Marines that summer and went directly to the agency's secret training facility under a mountain out west. I was already fluent in six languages and easily picked up several more during the year I was there learning spy craft. Two months short of my twenty-fifth birthday I arrived at our embassy in Moscow. I had entered the country under a false diplomatic passport that identified me as some low level diplomat assigned clerical duties. I remained sequestered in the embassy for several weeks. During that time I grew a beard and studied the details of my new identity. I was amazed how easily the agency had been able to create a bullet-proof Russian persona for me. Even the old KGB would have been hard pressed to disprove the falsified background of Dmitri Vachlav Dombrovski. At least that is what I hoped since my life depended on my identity being believed. A week after I arrived in Moscow another agency employee used my entry documents to leave the country. Once I left the embassy I would have no way out and only limited contact with my compatriots. A month after I walked into the embassy, one of the ambassador's limos pulled out of the main gate. I was secreted in the trunk. Even in the old Soviet Union no one would dare search the trunk of the United States ambassador. While the ambassador enjoyed a luncheon near the Kremlin, I was snuck out of the limo in a Moscow alley with only the rats as witnesses. As I watched the large American automobile drive off from behind a pile of rotting trash in a very real way I was watching my country desert me in a foreign land. It was made clear to us in training that our personal safety ranked far below the importance of the mission. Though it was not explicitly stated I knew that they would kill me before they let me compromise anything about the agency. As I slipped into the bustling life of downtown Moscow, I wasn't sure how I was going to manage my mission. I was sure however that what I had to do was important. The agency knew that Russian arms were moving into the Middle East and in some cases killing our soldiers in Afghanistan. We also knew that these arms were being stock piled in other countries creating an even greater threat. We even knew the identity of some of the arms merchants. What the agency needed me to do was infiltrate the arms cartel and learn about the mechanics of the transactions and the routes the shipments were taking. My first step was to gain the trust of an agency contact inside the Russian Defense Ministry. Though he had helped the agency for years he was a cautious man that was more fearful of the arms merchants than he was of his government. He wasn't involved in the sale of weapons but he knew some of the inside men who were. I needed an introduction and we hoped Mikhail Pevzner would be my connection. However, I had some more immediate issues. They had found me an apartment which I was sharing with a construction worker named Sergey Gudilov. I made him for an agency plant instantly, but of course neither of us could acknowledge our connection. I supposed he was there to watch me. It was going to be days if not weeks before I would get to meet Mikhail. My cover was that I was a recent graduate of Novgorod State University. I had grown up in the country and was in Moscow to find work. I spent my days visiting offices in Moscow pretending that I was seeking a job and my nights with a very sullen roommate. I couldn't tell if Sergey was a native that had been turned or an American like me. However, I quickly learned that his cover was real. Instead of job hunting on my third morning I practiced my spy craft by secretly following him. I tailed him to a site where a new office building was going up. I stayed long enough to be sure he was actually working on the project. My observations made me wonder if I was correct about him being a part of the agency. After a week and a half of pounding the pavement and enduring Sergey's disinterest, I was beginning to rethink my decision to join the agency. Being a spy definitely wasn't the thrilling life portrayed in movies and television. I might well have tried to walk back into the embassy if things had not changed soon. Happily, I received a contact that afternoon. As I was returning to my apartment from the metro station, a man bumped into me practically knocking me to the ground. He dropped the papers he was carrying and as I helped him gather them he pressed a note into my hand. I was to meet Mikhail at a bar the following evening. My heart raced as I destroyed the note detailing my first meeting as a spy. I was so anxious I could not sleep that night. Job hunting the next day was impossible. I was simply too focused on my meeting to think clearly enough to answer questions. Unfortunately, I knew that I would have to control these reactions if I was to be successful. I told myself that I was allowed only one day like that. By evening I felt I had my emotions under control. I sat at the bar waiting for my contact. Since I had been shown pictures of Mikhail I knew I would easily recognize him but had no idea how he would know me. When he sat down next to me at the bar, I acknowledged him per my instructions as I would any stranger that sat next to me at a bar. We exchanged pleasantries and he ordered a drink. After another minute he started a conversation about a recent hockey game. One of the things I had studied in preparation for my roll was Russian hockey. The conversation felt eerily similar to one I might have in an American bar about football. Of course we were speaking in Russian about a sport that only a few years earlier had been almost unknown to me. At some point he passed me another note with instructions for another chance meeting. After five such meetings over the course of two weeks, a friend of his took me to an apartment in an upscale part of the city. The apartment belonged to yet another person who I never met. I waited alone for Mikhail for an hour hoping I hadn't been set up. My contact came in the service entrance and surprised me with his stealth arrival. After apologizing he joined me on the sofa. Oddly the scene felt more like a date than a meeting between spies. I had already concluded that Mikhail was either gay or using the appearance of being gay to cover his activities. Even though I was a confirmed heterosexual in my mind, I was prepared to go as far as I had to for the mission. We had been taught that sex was a powerful weapon in the covert arsenal. During training I had assumed they were referring to traditional male female interaction. With Mikhail staring into my eyes I wasn't so sure of that assumption anymore. His eyes were quite stunning. They were blue, almost the color of sapphires. For the first time I saw the kindness in his eyes. I had already felt the gentleness of his spirit. It was a puzzlement to me how a man so clearly kind and docile could be involved in our work. "Dmitri, we are safe here. The owner is away for an extended time. His son was once my lover and I have been known to visit him here." I was surprised at his openness regarding his sexuality. I wondered if it was a test. I also wondered if the man that had escorted me to the apartment was the former lover. Almost as if he had read my thoughts Mikhail explained that my escort was the man's friend and the cover for his bringing me here was to have sex with me. In an odd twist he asked if that bothered me. "No, why should it? If it helps for others to think that I am homosexual, then I will happily portray myself that way." "It is a shame that you're not," He sighed. "You are attractive and interest me." He spoke in English for the first time. Though I was a bit startled by his use of English and the perfection of his accent, I continued in Russian as if he had spoken only in Russian. "We do not have to pretend here, D...I am sorry I do not know your name," He said in English. "I think it best you know me as Dmitri," I replied in Russian. "As you wish. What is it you want of me?" He asked reverting to Russian. "Introductions to certain people." "What people?" "We know the names of two, there may be others, Yevgeny Moiseyev and Vasily Kolesov." "Why not ask for an introduction to Vladimir Putin while you are at it?" He shot back making me think that I had lost him. All I could say in response was the truth. "Because he is not of any use to my current needs." I was relieved when Mikhail began chuckling. "You are a bold one, my friend, but these men you wish to meet are very dangerous." "I know that but it is perhaps even more dangerous men I wish them to lead me to, Mikhail." "Let us talk about this over vodka," He suggested and walked across the room. He had obviously been in the apartment before and felt at home. He opened a cabinet to reveal a hidden bar. He returned with a bottle of clear liquid and two crystal glasses that looked like they could have been used to serve the czar. Clearly his friend's father was an important man. We toasted and each downed a large swallow of the finest vodka I have ever tasted. "So then, are you agreeable to making the introductions?" I asked as he refilled my glass. "I do not see how my introducing you to these men will be of help to you." "We are aware that they know and trust you, even though you're not involved in their outside business. If after a casual meet you let it be known that I need work, things might progress independently from there." We knew that there was a small possibility that Mikhail was playing us and actually involved in the arms trading, but thought it highly unlikely. If that was the case I was enjoying some fine vodka with the man that was going to set up my execution. "I would be placing myself in danger. There is no logical reason for me to know you. How is it I would come to introduce you to these men?" The answer that came into my head surprised me, but instantly I knew it would be the perfect cover. "Perhaps you met me in a bar, which is in fact true. We became lovers. Then in some social setting I could be your date." He looked bemused. "That could work, but I do not often socialize with these men nor are they easily fooled." "Your answer tells me that there is no problem bringing a homosexual date when there is a social occasion," I stated for confirmation purposes. "No, despite outward appearances things in Moscow are much more progressive than in your supposedly freer society," He replied with a bit of spite in his tone. I let the tone pass, happy to know that my plan was at least partially viable. "The bigger problem is that you're not queer," He continued surprising me with his use of a negative reference to his sexuality. "I am not Russian either but that hurdle has been overcome. It seems to me that the question of my sexuality is far easier to fake." "Oh really," He said and reached for my leg. Suddenly I had a gay Russian caressing my thigh and clearly looking for a reaction. "Yes," I said softly and reached out to touch his cheek the way I would a woman I was about to kiss for the first time. I had no idea how far he would make me go to prove I could play the role. I hoped it wouldn't go all the way to the bedroom because I was uncertain if I could actually suck his cock to fulfill my mission. "At least you do not recoil from my touch as most cunt lickers would," He said while still squeezing my thigh. "I can do what is required," I insisted and leaned in to complete the kiss. With my eyes closed his lips didn't feel all that different than a woman's lips. I told myself if I didn't know he was a man there might be no difference at all. When I felt his tongue touch my lips, I had to fight off the urge to withdraw. Instead I parted my lips and greeted his tongue with mine. After a minute of swapping spit he was apparently satisfied that I was sincere in my desire to pretend that I was his gay lover. "It is a shame that you're only pretending. You're a very good kisser, Dmitri," He said while grinning at me. "Thank you," Was the only response I could think of at that moment. "Ok, then, it seems that you are prepared to do what is necessary to make your deception work. The men you propose to become involved with are not only dangerous they are also powerful and have many sources of information. If I am to introduce you as my lover we will have to create evidence that would lead to that conclusion." "What are you suggesting?" I asked feeling like I might be letting him set me up for some weird sexual ploy." I didn't imagine that I was so desirable or that gay men generally prayed upon straight men to get sex. But I was more than ten years younger than Mikhail and considered the possibility he might have a thing for young men. I also considered the possibility that some ingrained homophobia might be leading me to be overly suspicious of him. "We shall have to date and make a public appearance of being a couple. You of course will need to begin spending the night with me. Normally, I would think we should sleep over at each other's place but your roommate is a complication." "He might be surprised to learn I was homosexual," I agreed. "If that is the case you must correct his thinking. My thought was he would be opposed to you fucking a man in his apartment. We can not risk his telling someone that you are not queer." My stomach did a flip flop. I was on the verge of beginning a public relationship with a man and being told that I had to inform my very manly roommate that I was gay. In addition it sounded very much like Mikhail intended to make the relationship far more real than I imagined. The phrase fucking a man seemed to echo in my head. "I suppose you are correct. But it isn't the kind of thing one just blurts out to a relative stranger." "It is a hard thing to speak of for many people. It is fortunate that my room mate knows and accepts that I bring men home to sleep with." I doubt that I hid the surprise I felt over the discovery that he didn't live alone very well. The idea that there would be someone in the next room while I was pretending to fuck a man worried me. "So you're proposing we sleep together with your roommate in the apartment?" "It is the only way the deception will work. He works at the ministry also. Don't worry; it will all be make believe once we are behind closed doors." I heard myself agree to the plan and our first date. He insisted that we walk together to the metro station. When he took hold of my hand on the station platform I felt queasy. I told myself to fight the discomfort. I was trained to deceive others and be someone other than myself. For the first time I realized how deeply I might have to immerse myself in a different personality. When we reached his stop he gave me a quick kiss before leaving me with the glare of two Russian soldiers. I got off at the next stop even though I was still far from my apartment. I walked around aimlessly, covering several miles before I finally found my way back home. My room mate was there with a woman I would have taken for a hooker had I seen her on the street. They had clearly been making out. Their clothes wore pulled in ways that only happens from sexual groping. I apologized for interrupting and he gallantly declared that I had not interrupted anything. I was glad that he had company because it gave me more time to figure out how to tell him I was gay. After a few minutes the feeling of being in the way led me to declare that I was going for a walk. I hung out in a local bar for a couple of hours before returning to the apartment. Thankfully, the couple had retreated to Sergey's bedroom. Not so thankfully they serenaded me with their lust filled cries and passionate moans for two full hours. My room mate obviously had incredible stamina. The next night's conversation with Sergey gave me the perfect opening to tell him I was gay. He was regaling me with all the details of his marathon evening. When he asked me what I thought of the woman, I explained that I was not into pussy. "Never? You only go for the cock," He said clearly surprised. Before I could reply he added, "I myself do not discriminate." Suddenly I wished I had not decided to make my admission to him. Pretending to be in a sexual relationship with Mikhail to further the mission was one thing. However, living with a guy that was looking at me like he was a hungry dog and I was a steak in the butcher shop window was really scary. Sergey was not in on the deception like Mikhail. "I have fucked women in the past, I just seemed to have gravitated to only men recently," I lied hoping to help him understand my fake situation. "To each his own, Dmitri. I only wish you had told me sooner, we could have taken care of some lonely nights," He added clearly offering something I did not want. The problem was how to derail his idea without hurting his feelings. "The thought is tempting, but I have a boyfriend," I said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "To whom you are committed. I have never known a fag that kept to only one partner," He said clearly surprised by the idea. I bristled at being called a fag, but knew from his tone he meant no disrespect. It was just his way of speaking. "Now you do, Sergey." "It is a shame. If you change your mind you know where my bed is, Dmitri." I had gone in a few hours from a confirmed heterosexual to having offers from two different men to have sex. It was both discomforting and flattering at the same time. Two days later I was on a date with Mikhail. I learned that Moscow had a thriving gay community and spent a few hours actually having fun dancing amongst a group of young men. Back at Mikhail's apartment I told him about my talk with Sergey. "This could be trouble. Didn't you consider that your refusal to have sex with him would signal there was something amiss with your story?" "Why should it? I am dating you and presumably we are fucking. The subject came up naturally. It isn't like I made this admission hoping to bed him." "Is he attractive, virile?" "I suppose though it isn't something I really consider about a man." "Your true sexuality is not the issue. If you were dating a woman and an attractive, sexy woman offered herself to you, would you reject the opportunity to fuck her?" "If I was committed to my girlfriend, probably yes." To Russia for Love "Probably is not good enough. I know it would not be so with me. Regardless of my having or not having a boyfriend I would be unlikely to turn down an offer of sex with such a man. Your doing so may set off an alarm. In Russia we can never assume a person is what he seems to be. Your safety and mine depends on people believing that you are homosexual." "Are you saying that I have to suck Sergey's cock to keep us safe?" "It is too late for that. You have already turned him down. Besides, your poor technique would likely raise more suspicion." I had no doubt about that. I was pretty sure throwing up on Sergey would also be an issue. "So what are you saying I should do?" "You must convince him that you're homosexual and in love with me. I will have to spend the night at your apartment after all. You will have to show me the same affection you would a female lover when I am there." As I walked to the Metro station the next morning I mulled over whether it might not be easier to simply have sex with Sergey than to play lovey-dovey with Mikhail. I was leaning toward the sex when I remembered that my inexperience would be an issue. Though my agency training had been thorough they neglected to teach me how to suck a cock. As I rode on the crowded subway, I all but concluded that I should declare my mission a failure. I could send the signal and in a few days be out of Russia. Then again I considered that the agency might just leave me to rot in Moscow. Faced with the possibility of starving to death on the streets of a hostile city, sucking a guy's dick or playing kissy-face with my pretend gay lover didn't seem so bad. As it turned out it didn't take much to convince Sergey I was in a relationship with Mikhail. A few days after our first official sleepover at his apartment, I brought him home. A little cuddling, handholding and a few rather chaste kisses easily convinced my roommate that I was in a serious relationship. Sergey actually seemed a little disgusted by the display. While he was very into gay sex, it seemed he didn't appreciate gay romance at all. Funny thing is at the time I could better deal with the idea of connecting romantically with a guy than I could the idea of sucking a cock. The next morning I woke up in my bed with Mikhail's head on my chest. We were both all but naked having slept in our underwear. The presence of my usual morning wood was disconcerting with a man's flesh pressed against my body. I eased my way out of the bed and lost my erection while taking a piss. He was dressed and ready to go by the time I came back to the room. I escorted him to the door and we shared a goodbye kiss for Sergey's benefit. Our fake romance continued for several more weeks. We dated and slept over at each other's apartments. The dates were actually fun and the better I got to know Mikhail the more I liked him. Other than cuddling and kissing in front of our respective roommates for show, nothing remotely sexual happened between the two of us. In a way that felt odd because the dating seemed very real. Had Mikhail been a woman I was dating for that long, I definitely would have had an issue with the lack of sex. The only issue I had with Mikhail was the lack of an introduction to the arms traders. I had been in Moscow almost two months and officially dating Mikhail for over a month when I decided to confront the issue. As we lay in bed that evening I asked about the meeting. "There will be an opportunity next month. Vasily is having a gathering at his home in Petushki. I told him that I would be bringing my new boyfriend." "He doesn't have any issue with you being homosexual?" I asked for the first time. "Not that I am aware of. Such a thing would not serve him well if the rumors about his associate, Yevgeny Moiseyev are true." "What rumors?" "It is commonly thought that Yevgeny prefers young men over his wife's cunt." Yevgeny Moiseyev was an unattractive man in his mid-fifties. He had bulging eyes and a hairline receding awkwardly into baldness. When I first saw his picture I was reminded of the character General Burkhalter from the old television show Hogan's Heroes. Sadly his wife was even less attractive; looking more like an old man than a fifty-something woman. The only way I could imagine Yevgeny attracting young men to his bed was with money. "I see. And what of Vasily, is he married?" I knew that the handsome, 42-year-old Russian official was a widower who had only recently remarried. I probably knew more about him than Mikhail. But I thought it best to feign ignorance. There was no telling what I could learn by keeping my fake boyfriend talking. "His first wife died many years ago. Some say under suspicious circumstances. I do not know much about that, but I do know the marriage provided Vasily with advantages. His wife's family was important and that led to him meeting other important people. His position likely came from those connections. His country house that you will visit came from his inheritance. He recently remarried. I am certain that he is more interested in his twenty-year-old step son then he is in his forty-five-year-old bride however." "Are you suggesting he married his first wife for prestige and money and then killed her and then married his second wife to get close to her son?" I asked already aware of the supposition about the first marriage. "I am suggesting nothing, just reporting the facts. There is no evidence to prove her death was anything other than natural. However, that she has been gone now for over ten years and Vasily had not dated much until he took his new wife is a puzzlement. Some suggested that he was still mourning his one true love others saw it to mean his interests are elsewhere." There was no question that Vasily and Yevgeny spent a lot of time together. I wondered if perhaps the younger man had sucked his way to the top. However, I choose not to pursue that thought with Mikhail. In fact the conversation pretty much died entirely at that point. A few minutes later my pretend lover turned his back to me and drifted off to sleep. I laid there awake for a couple of hours. Though I had become used to sleeping with a man, that night my thoughts troubled me. Being presented to these men as a homosexual was possibly fraught with complications. They might insist that I prove my sexual orientation to them by joining one or both in bed. I also went back to the idea that was hammered home in training; sex was a good way to put a contact off guard. This was told to us mostly so that we would be on guard against female operatives. The idea of entering into a homosexual liaison for the cause was never mentioned. But it had been made clear that we were expected to do anything required to succeed in our mission. I knew I would have to make a decision regarding my willingness to exceed certain limits. If I was going to agree to sex with either of the older men, I would need experience. I had little doubt that Mikhail would be willing to teach me and that Sergey would be happy to help me practice. What I was unsure of was how my body would react or if I could actually go that far for the cause. When I finally got to sleep that night, my dreams were filled with weird homosexual imagery. Mostly the scenes involved me interacting with disembodied cocks. The only face I saw in those dreams was that of the actor who played General Burkhalter. I could even hear the heavily accented way he said Hogan as I sucked his cock in my imagination. It was fortunate that I didn't wake up screaming. However, my busy night had not gone unnoticed. "Dmitri, what has you so troubled? You squirmed as much as a whore in a church pew as you slept," Mikhail said when I emerged from his shower. "I suppose that the fast approach of my destiny gave rise to unpleasant dreams," I answered truthfully. I was fairly certain that the destiny I had in mind was different from the one he imagined that I was speaking about. I was pleasantly surprised that he seemed to accept the explanation and asked no further questions. We saw each other twice more that week without speaking of Vasily and Yevgeny or the impending meeting. The following week while we were out drinking, he gave me the date and details of the party. His roommate would be attending also so the three of us would travel together on the train. When he added that Yevgeny was anxious to meet me, my worries returned. By the time we left the bar, I had resolved to have what I feared would be an unpleasant conversation with Mikhail. I only had three weeks to become an experienced gay lover if that was to be the game plan. I had to know what the likelihood was that Yevgeny would insist on having sex with me. That night as we lay in my bed I jumped right into the subject. "Mikhail, something is bothering me about the plan," I began. "More than one thing should be bothering you, my friend." "Most of the possible dangers I am prepared for, but there is one thing I am not ready to handle. Do you think that Yevgeny or Vasily might require shall we say proof of my homosexuality?" "Are you asking if they will insist on fucking you?" He said barely stifling his smile. "Yeah, I suppose, but I was thinking more of them insisting that I suck their cocks." "It is all the same," He said casually. "What I need to know is if they will respect my relationship with you and accept that as a reason not to have sex if one or both should propose such a thing." "I am not sure, but I can not imagine that these men take no for an answer, no matter the reason." "So I should be prepared to accept a proposal if it comes?" "That depends on how badly you want to achieve your objective. I can only get your foot in the door. It is up to you to ingratiate yourself and bring the rest of your body into the parlor." The metaphor was apt and I knew what I had to do. But asking Mikhail to teach me how to have gay sex seemed to take more courage than allowing myself to be left in Russia with little way out. "Dmitri, where are you going with these thoughts?" He asked forcing me to break my silence. "My name is Doug," I said in English and placed my hand on his chest. "I need you to teach me things so if I must do things with them I will be prepared." "I would enjoy teaching you, Doug. But if you can not even say the words, how can you think you will be able to do these things as you call them. By the way I appreciate your sudden openness, but for both our sakes let us stay with Russian and Dmitri." "I know we must continue to be careful, I just thought that if I was going to suck your cock you should know my real name," I said with trembling lips. He reached over, slipped his hand into my underwear and began to fondle my cock. I was stunned at my reaction to the touch of a man. It felt good and my cock came to life the same as if he had been a woman. He stopped and pulled my underwear off and then removed his own. His uncut cock was already more than halfway to full erection. "I have wanted this since our first kiss, but I gave up hope of it happening," He said as he took my hand and guided it to his cock. "I don't know what to do," I protested as he guided my fingers around his growing shaft. "Handle it as you would your own cock. It isn't really so different." However, it was far different. His cock was longer by at least two inches than my average tool. His body hair was darker and thicker. There was also the matter of his foreskin. I was cut and had never even in a locker room seen an uncut cock in person. I reflected on the idea that having a piece of skin snipped off one's dick was a rather odd fashion statement. I also wondered if it might be an issue since it seemed to be a uniquely American tradition outside of the Jewish community. "Is my circumcision a clue that I should not reveal?" I asked as I stroked his cock. "No, it is becoming somewhat of a trend with the younger men in Moscow. You should however consider trimming or shaving away your cock hair. That feels good," He replied and again reached for my cock. I reflected on the odd feeling of having my cock played with while I was playing with a different cock. He took away all thought when he leaned toward me and initiated a deep passion filled kiss. By that point I had kissed him many times for show. But I had never felt any passion before. It was just acting like the characters in a movie. I wasn't prepared for the rush of feelings that hit me when he rolled on top of me and deepened our connection. His tongue probed my mouth as our hard cocks rubbed together. I felt like I couldn't breathe and wanted to escape. It wasn't so much the act as the enjoyment I was feeling that had me so terrified. I wanted to scream that I wasn't queer and make him stop. But at the same time I never wanted the amazing feeling to end. My nerve endings were on fire with excitement and pleasure. My mind however was filled with confusion. I couldn't understand how I could be enjoying something so against my nature. When he rolled onto his back, I allowed him to pull me on top of his body. Our lips never parted. I quickly realized our roles had switched and I was in charge. I pressed my tongue into his mouth and began to slowly hump him the way he had been humping me. This went on for awhile until I was too breathless to continue the kiss. I rolled onto my back and we lay side-by-side for a minute panting in near unison. "I think you're ready for more, hot stuff," He cooed and then began licking and sucking my heaving chest. It felt completely surreal. No one had ever paid that kind of attention to my chest and the sensations were sending electric shocks through my nervous system. He was again fondling my cock and I impulsively reached for his. I found his heavy ball sack instead. Where my balls were nearly smooth his were covered in coat of fur. I rolled his hairy nuts in my hand and tickled his perineum the way I often did to my own when masturbating. His appreciative moans told me he liked what I was doing. I tentatively walked my fingers up the length of his hard, throbbing shaft as he continued to suckle on my chest like I had the tits of every woman that would let me. Not knowing what else to do I wrapped my fingers around his cock and stroked it like I would if I was holding my own dick. I heard a deep kind of purring sound as he moved his lips below my nipples. When I realized where his mouth was heading my heart started pounding. I was excited and terrified at the same time. I loved having my cock sucked and reasoned that it couldn't be all that different having a woman or a gay man sucking me. At the same time I was scared that I might like it too much. I didn't want to enjoy sex with a man, nor was I sure I could reciprocate when it came my turn. As it was my first contact with another guys cock ended quickly. As he kissed his way down my belly, he shifted his body and his cock slipped from my hand. He moved and positioned us so that we were lying with his face at my crotch. I closed my eyes to avoid looking at the hard beast that I knew was very close to my face. He nuzzled my cock and began to lick my ball sack. I instinctively spread my legs wider to give him full access to my nuts. There was no doubt about his ability to please a man. His tongue danced all over and around my sensitive balls. I felt his hot breath cascading over the most private parts of my flesh. I had never felt so fully attended to by anyone before. Despite all the pleasure I was feeling, I still had a knot in my stomach. Part of me wanted to protest and insist that he stop. But the more his tongue and lips touched me the less I cared about the fact that it was a man and not a woman between my legs. When he finally left my balls and slowly ran his tongue up my shaft, I was his. When he twirled his tongue around my cock head, I opened my eyes and looked at the hard cock that was only inches from my face. I wasn't ready to actually put it in my mouth even though I knew I would eventually have to get to that point. As he licked the precum from my cum slit I reached for his cock. I tentatively touched his shaft as he engulfed my needy cock. I moaned and gripped his cock as he slid his lips all the way to the base of my dick. I felt his nose touch my balls as he easily took my cock head into his throat. At that moment I was certain I would never be able to suck a cock the way Mikhail was sucking mine. Within minutes I was near the edge. As I tried to form the words to warn him, my cock suddenly erupted sending a torrent of thick cum into his mouth. He did not seem to be distressed at all. In fact it seemed that he was thrilled to be drinking my ball juice. He continued to suck and swallow until my dick became so sensitive that I pulled it out of his mouth. That was when I realized that I was still holding his cock in my fist. If he had stopped before I came, I think I would have given my first blow job that day. Once my release came, my revulsion over the idea of sucking a cock came back with a vengeance. As I lay there panting, holding his erection in my hand, I had no idea what to do. I assumed that I was expected to suck him off since he had just given me the best blow job of my life. But I wasn't ready. "Mikhail, I am sorry, but I can't..." I began to explain. "You do not have to do anything. I got great pleasure from sucking your cock. But you will not ever learn anything if you do not try. Perhaps if you just jerk me off for your first time?" He suggested. My sense of obligation to repay him for the pleasure he gave me overcame my aversion to doing something queer to please another man. I started slowly stroking his cock. He sighed appreciatively and I moved my other hand to his balls. I fondled his sack and stroked his dick. After a rather long time his ragged breathing told me that he was getting close. I felt increasing excitement over the idea of being able to make him cum. My own breathing became rougher and my heart beat sped up. I stroked him faster hoping to coax a river of cum from his cock. He moaned, "Yes!" When I moved one of my fingers from behind his balls to his anus. I was on a kind of autopilot. I teased his tight anal rim with my finger tip as I whacked his dick with gusto. He cried out something unintelligible just before his cock erupted in my hand. Thick spurts of cum shot up and then fell back onto my hand. I was suddenly fascinated by the feeling of the warm thick goo running down the back of my hand as I continued to jack his convulsing cock. On some level I didn't want it to end. But in another few seconds it was over. He reached down and gently took my hand away from his shrinking tool. Then he swiveled around so that we were lying face to face. "You give a great hand job. Are you sure that you are a devoted cunt fucker?" He asked in English His tone and the use of English surprised me more than the question. I nodded indicating that I was straight, though I was no longer as certain of my sexuality as I had been when I arrived in Russia. I could easily enough rationalize away my enjoying the blow job he gave me. He was a great cock sucker and logically it seemed reasonable that the fact of him having a dick made little difference when he was pleasuring me. His tongue and mouth gave me pleasure not his cock. But I could not deny at least in my own mind that I had enjoyed making him cum. It wasn't so much the touching of his cock that I enjoyed. It was more the feeling I got from having been able to make him cum that thrilled me. Oddly, I hadn't even bothered to wipe his drying semen off my hand. I got the idea from the way he was looking at me that he either wanted to cuddle or go for a second round. However, all I could think about was getting out of bed. There were two problems with my desire to run away. First, I had no idea what the protocol was when a guy gave you blow job. I did not want to insult Mikhail and cause him to end our association. The other issue was thornier. Had we been in his apartment, I could have made an excuse to go home, but given the situation short of throwing him out I was stuck sleeping with him as we had for weeks. Throwing him out of my apartment didn't seem a wise move. So I told him I needed to take a piss and climbed out of bed. To Russia for Love Since the bathroom was shared with my roommate, I slipped on a pair of underwear before leaving the room. I was glad I made that choice. When I came out of the bathroom after peeing and scrubbing my pretend lover's cum off my hand, Sergey was waiting for his turn. Since he hadn't chosen to put on underwear, I came face to face with his nakedness. It was not that unusual since it seemed he was a bit of an exhibitionist. What was unusual was that I looked down at his cock. Thankfully, he wasn't hard. But still for the first time I took note of how long his dick was and that he was circumcised. He was also neatly trimmed and unless his balls were way less hairy than his body he shaved his sack. It seemed that Mikhail had spoken the truth about younger Moscow men going in for circumcisions and pubic hair grooming. There was one more thing I hadn't noticed. His scrotum was pierced and adorned with a gold hoop. I was certain that it must be new since I couldn't imagine missing that even when I was avoiding looking at his junk. "Excuse me," I said as I tried to get around him to get back to my room. "Can you wait a minute? There is something I need to talk to you about," He said as he stepped into the small bathroom. I didn't see a reason to refuse so I said that I would wait. I am not sure why it surprised me that he didn't close the door. He simply took hold of his long cock and aimed it at the toilet. A heavy stream of golden liquid began flowing. It was like he had to go so badly his sphincter gave way like a dam bursting. It seemed like I was frozen unable to turn away. I wasn't exactly turned on, but I was definitely fascinated by the sight of his long cock spewing the contents of his bladder. I watched his entire routine, which included some enthusiastic shaking off of the last droplets at the end. Even as he washed his hands I couldn't take my eyes off of him. I was glad he didn't make a comment on the way I watched him. "So things must be heating up with you and Mikhail," He said casually. "The two of you seemed far more enthusiastic about fucking tonight." I fought to keep my expression nonchalant. I hadn't even considered that my quiet nights sleeping with Mikhail had suddenly become an audio show for my roommate. We did move around a bit and make some noise to try to make it seem we were making love in the past. But of course that night was the first time we made real sex sounds. Until Sergey said something I had not considered that it would be noticed. "I guess we were a little more enthusiastic for some reason tonight," I quickly lied hoping to quell his curiosity. "If that is what you needed to talk to me about, I am sorry we disturbed you." "Don't be ridiculous. I am sure you have heard many sounds coming from my room. I would never complain about such a thing. I just noticed a difference and thought maybe that meant you were becoming more comfortable with the queer sex." I wasn't sure how to take his statement. I hoped it wasn't because he figured out that I had been faking being gay. I decided that I had to take the offensive. "Why would you say that? I am homosexual; of course I am comfortable with making love to men." "I know that you are attracted to men and not women, but, I do not think you have much experience, if any before Mikhail. But that is your business. What I really wanted to know was what you thought of my new jewelry. A woman suggested it and I want to be sure men will like it also." I looked down at his crotch as if I had not seen it before. "It is very attractive," I said. "Please, you can hardly see it from that angle, look closer," He said as he spread his legs a bit. I decided I needed to stroke his ego. "You know, Sergey, I do find you very attractive. Had I not already been involved with Mikhail when you proposed that we sleep together, I would have been eager to join you in bed," I said as I knelt in front of him. "You do not have to say such things. I don't expect every man to want to have sex with me," He said obviously pleased to hear what I had to say. He reached down and lifted his long cock up as I looked at his balls. What happened next really surprised me. I gave into my desire to see what his smooth sack felt like and touched the area around the piercing with my fingertips. "So you like my jewelry?" "Yes, I do. It makes me wonder though about oral sex," I said honestly. I could see sucking his balls being a dangerous and yet erotic experience. The gold ring was encrusted with chips of various colored gem stones with I imagined could cut a tongue or lips. "Careful we wouldn't want Mikhail getting jealous over your interest in my balls," Sergey said clearly joking. I withdrew my hand and jumped back up quickly. The idea that I was starting to fondle another guys nuts and even imagining what it would be like to have his balls in my mouth really disturbed me. "Dmitri, relax. It was a joke. I am sure he would understand that nothing was happening; just a friend showing off a new purchase." I was sure that even had Mikhail walked in on me sucking Sergey's cock there wouldn't be an issue. I was also thinking I might have to suck my roommate's cock sometime soon to prove I was gay. I couldn't risk blowing my cover with anyone. There was always the possibility that I was wrong about him being an agent, or worse that he was an agent for the other side. "Of course, I am being foolish. Well, goodnight," I said. He said goodnight and gave me a hug. Before releasing me from his arms he whispered that the offer was still open if I had changed my mind. I didn't respond. When I returned to the room, Mikhail was laying on his side with his bare ass facing me, snoring. I was glad that the evening had come to an end. I crawled into bed with my underwear on. I avoided having another date with Mikhail for a couple of days. I was certain that our next date would lead to another sexual encounter. As convinced as I was that I had to have practice having sex with a man before I met the arms dealers, I simply couldn't deal with the reality of getting that practice. I had accepted the idea in the abstract, but was still repulsed by the reality of taking another guy's cock into my mouth. I had barely considered the idea of anal sex. On my third night avoiding Mikhail and cock sucking lessons, I was surprised by a knock on my bedroom door. When Sergey entered my unlit room, I could see only his form illuminated by a distant weak light coming from somewhere in the apartment. "I am sorry if I am disturbing you, Dmitri," He said as he moved toward my bed. I was thinking of you and worried about something." He was only a few feet from my bed when I realized he was completely naked. His cock was erect. I was fascinated by the size of his manhood. I knew his flaccid dick was very long but never imagined that it grew in the same proportions as mine when he was aroused. I was also a bit afraid. I couldn't imagine why he would have come into my room like that unless it was for sex. Though I was in good shape he was definitely stronger than me. I was certain that I would lose the battle if he chose to rape me. "What are you worried about, Sergey?" I asked trying not to show my fear. He stood at the side of my bed with his cock less than a foot from my face. Curiosity was winning over fear. For the first time in my life I wanted to touch another man's dick. His erect cock was nearly half again as long as mine and I wondered how different such a big tool would feel. "I was thinking that our little meeting the other night in the hall may have upset your boyfriend. You have been home alone every night since. Is he mad that you touched my balls to look at my jewelry?" "No, he and I are fine. I don't think he knows anything about us talking that night. I am certain he does not know that I examined your scrotum." "Then you didn't tell him?" I realized that I was entering dangerous territory. My keeping the incident from Mikhail and then not having sex for several days could easily be misinterpreted as meaning I was interesting in Sergey. "No, why would I? Nothing happened that I felt I needed to report. I just looked at your new decoration." "Yes, of course. But sometimes innocent things are misunderstood and other times seemingly innocent things are not so innocent." Though I knew that I should just end the conversation and send him away, I couldn't stop myself. "Sergey, what are you trying to say? Why are you really here?" "Because, I was thinking of you and became very aroused. I have wanted you since we met. Mikhail does not have to know," He said bluntly as he reached for my face. I turned causing his hand to find my head instead of my cheek. However, I did not pull away when he began to caress my close cropped hair. "Why have you fought your desire for me," He said and moved a few inches closer so that his thighs were against my bed. I felt myself lick my lips as I imagined his cock entering my mouth. I wondered if I was actually gay if the prospect of sucking his huge cock would have still been so daunting. My mind seemed to scream that I wasn't gay even though my vocal cords made no sound. But desire was slowly betraying what I believed to be the truth. I wanted to touch him. "Oh fuck," I thought, "I really want to suck that god damn huge prick." I felt sick and elated all at once. Worse I felt my own cock begin to stir in my shorts. He moved his hand from my head and let his fingertips run over my cheek and down my neck. It was like sparks passed from his fingers to my flesh when he touched my chest. "Don't fight your desires," He sighed as he bent down. I kept telling myself that I couldn't be with him as his lips came closer to my face. Then we were kissing. First it was just our lips. Soon his tongue was in my mouth. Next his hard naked body was beside me in my bed. Desire forced all logic and thought aside. His hand slid down my body and into my shorts as we continued to kiss. His touch was far gentler than Mikhail's touch had been. At some point I was no longer wearing underwear and I was fondling his massive tool the way he was fondling my cock. Our lips remained together and our tongues traveled between our mouths as we played with each other's genitals. I could actually feel my inhibitions and disgust melting away. By the time he began to kiss his way down my body, I knew I was going to suck my first cock that night. When he reached my dick and began to lovingly kiss my shaft, a new fear came upon me. I had no idea how to make it seem that I had experience. He was lying beside me with his hard cock ready for my lips as he kissed and licked me. My only hope was to mimic his actions. I leaned in and kissed his cock head. His big shaft jerked wildly and he sighed happily. I ran my tongue along his rigid pole the way he was licking my shaft. What I had expected would repulse me, excited me. I licked all the way down to his balls and back up. When I ran my tongue around his cock head, I tasted precum for the first time. I found the taste to be an odd combination of salty and sweet with just a hint of musk to make it truly interesting. I no longer doubted my ability to take a cock into my mouth. But before I could slip my lips over the end of his throbbing cock, he pushed me onto my back and engulfed my shaft. He didn't stop until his nose was nestled in my ball sack. It felt like his throat was massaging my cock head. After a few seconds he slid his lips back up my dick and let it slip free of his mouth. He grabbed hold of my shaft and held it as he ran his tongue all over my glans. I cried out in sheer elation when he teased my cum hole with the tip of his tongue. The intense pleasure bordered on torture after a minute. Then I was back in his throat. Up and down my shaft his lips moved while his fingers teased my sack. I have no idea how long he sucked me like that before my cock erupted. He swallowed every drop and didn't let my dick leave his mouth until I begged for a break. As I lay on my back panting with his body still atop, my doubts returned. I wished he hadn't let me cum before I had had my chance to suck his cock. After another minute of him remaining where he was with his face at my crotch, I began thinking it was odd that he was not in more of a hurry to have me reciprocate. I had resolved in my mind to suck him to orgasm and drink his semen despite my reemerging doubts. But it seemed almost as if he didn't expect me to do for him what he had done for me. His actual expectations were far more frightening. As I regained controlled of my breathing, he moaned, "God, I fucking love fags. I can't wait to get my cock inside your tight man cunt." All of sudden he was licking my balls and trying to get my legs up in the air. I didn't know what to do. I had no idea if a gay man could refuse to be fucked, but I sure as hell wasn't ready for what he wanted. His tongue went lower and he pulled my ass cheeks apart. I could feel his spit dribbling down my crack. Next his finger pierced my anus. He was the first person outside the medical profession that had ever inserted anything into my body. I groaned as he drove his digit deep into my rectum. For a moment it hurt, but the fucker really knew what he was doing. He found my prostate and suddenly jolts of pleasure were shooting up my spine. I tried to find the voice to tell him to stop. But fear of being found out silenced my objection. Almost involuntarily I struggled under his weight. Though to me it was resistance that I hoped would signal I was not into anal sex, he seemed to take it as writhing caused by the pleasure he was giving me. More saliva ran down my crack and he added a second finger. I cried out clearly in pain. He ignored my wailing and began to finger fuck my ass with two meaty fingers. He continued to lick my nuts as he fingered my virgin asshole. Pain and pleasure merged. I began to feel like I needed to take a crap. I struggled to fight my senses and fear. It was my last chance; I could sense that he was going to mount me at any moment. "No! Please, I don't...." "Shut up queer boy! All of you fags like to be turned into fucking girls," He insisted as he swung around and climbed atop my body. The sudden removal of his fingers from my ass left me with mixed feelings. I felt empty in a way that I had never experienced. I also felt great relief that the pain was gone. The relief was temporary. He forced my legs up over my head. "Grab your ankles you little bitch!" He demanded. Knowing that I had no choice I complied with his command. I reasoned that voluntarily taking his cock up my ass would be less of an ordeal than making him rape me. "Please..." I sighed in a feeble voice as his fingers entered me again. He rammed his fat digits in and out of my fully exposed asshole while pressing his other hand hard into my chest. "I know you want me, fag boy! Don't try to deny it, just tell my how much you want my cock in your cunt," He roared causing spit to fly from his lips into my face. "I don't, I'm a virgin," I admitted hoping that would stop the onslaught. The idea of being my first seemed to turn him on even more. He laughed and said, "So, Mikhail is the bitch. After tonight you will know what he feels like when you fuck his pussy!" I have no idea why calling Mikhail a bitch sparked me to fight. But fight I did. "No, you fuck. Neither of us are bitches! We are men. We do not fuck because we do not have cunts, you cock sucking bastard!" I screamed as I balled my hands into fists. He laughed at me again as I began to pound his chest. But there was clearly no stopping him. He pulled his fingers out of my ass and grabbed his cock as I continued trying to fight him off. I felt the head of his dick pressing into my anus. Then he was inside me. I was right about the danger of fighting him. If I had relaxed I am certain he would not have been so brutal. He rammed the entire length of his cock into my body. After a few thrusts all the fight left me. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back on the bed. He took hold of my ankles and rammed his cock in and out of my body. At first the pain was all but unbearable. But to my surprise numbness took hold and then I felt pleasure. That pleasure made me feel shame. My shame was magnified when my cock ejaculated all over my belly. Something must have happened inside me when I came. Within seconds he stopped thrusting. I felt his cock jerk inside me and then flood my rectum when his thick hot seed. When his orgasm was done, he pulled his cock from my body and let my legs fall down on the mattress. I hoped he would simply leave me to my shame. But he was not done. He lay atop me and began kissing me softly. After awhile he said, "Damn, that was great. I knew you would be a good fuck. I also knew that you would like it even though you are not queer." My eyes flew up and I tried to protest. "Don't bother lying, Dmitri or whoever you are. Your not wanting to have sex was suspicious. I began to really wonder when I found you and Mikhail to be the quietest fags I have ever known. I don't know what game you are playing, but you better get a whole lot more practice in before you go to be with another man," He warned. "Who are you?" I asked feeling defeated as well as ashamed of my reaction to his fucking me. I knew I had let my accent slip and likely revealed that I was an American. I think I might have done it on purpose hoping he would reveal his own secret. "I am Sergey Gudilov, a bricklayer and your roommate who you have clearly been deceitful with. You are very clever my American friend. If you had not tried to pass yourself off as a fag you would probably have fooled me. I am sure you have fooled everyone else you know. I am curious though how you have fooled Mikhail who is clearly homosexual. Is it possible you have seduced him into falling in love with you and he is willing to wait for sex like some little virgin school girl?" I pushed him off me and got out of bed. "I think you are the one who is being deceitful now, Sergey," I said in English no longer hiding my nationality. "I had only guessed about you being an American," He said in heavily accented English. "Perhaps you're a terrorist. I should call the police." I was beginning to believe that it was possible that he was an innocent bisexual construction worker who had been used by my agency to add legitimacy to my cover. Of course it was possible that he was an agent from almost any country and was testing me. "There is no need for the police. I am not a terrorist," I replied honestly. I suppose my sincerity showed. "No, I suppose you aren't a terrorist. But you're not a recent graduate of university from the countryside either." "Nor are you a simple Moscow construction worker," I insisted. He smiled, held out his hand and said, "So we have secrets, what of it? Come back to bed Dmitri. I will teach you to be a good queer lover." I took his hand but didn't move any closer to the bed. Though it was only a couple of small steps, it felt like I would have to leap the Grand Canyon to get to that bed. "Your hand trembles. Are you afraid of me or afraid of how good I made you feel?" He asked in a soft caring sounding tone. "Why do you care? You raped me. What difference does it make to you how I feel?" "If I hadn't forced you to accept me, you would never have known how good being fucked feels. I saw in your eyes what you wouldn't admit you wanted. I will not do it again unless you tell me that you want me the way I want you right now," He said in a way that convinced me he was sincere. "What makes you think that I have any desire to fuck you?" I asked as I inched closer to the bed.