My Russian Adventure

Have fun reading my story, based on the Moscow Music Peace Festival in 1989. Many thanks to my Editing Cousin, your input means the world to me.

MY RUSSIAN ADVENTURE - part 2

Only when Management Guy #1 arrived, I could escape from the chaotic meeting. I succeeded in relieving Geraldine, but I got nowhere with the Skinny Guys and Longhairs. I found a mission though, there was a party to be organized.

Back in the open air of the stadium I found half of the soldiers gone. 'Smart,' I thought, 'the Americans are a bigger threat to each other than to the great Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.' But the platoon of privileged soldiers was still there.

It was as if the sergeant was expecting me. He called in Mels, the translator, right away, then he led me down the galleries of the stadium to a large room they used as an officers' mess. The jet set soldiers tagged along, they got the looks but were not sent away.

The sergeant started rambling in Russian, and a few of the soldiers chipped in, and a heated discussion flared. The voice of one of the soldiers seemed to carry the most weight. Mels took me aside. "That one is Kirill, he is the son...orr, erm, you better not know."

He got cut off by Kirill. "Mels! Perevesti! (translate)" To me: "Khochu poznakomit'sya s muzykantami." (I want to meet the musicians.)

This man was something else, not an inflated ego I knew my way around. Despite his youth I felt fear, while Kirill just asked me a civil question. I had to take a few slow breaths to control myself and I smelled my armpits.

I answered, "your American guests are certainly interested in a get together of some sort." ... "They would be honored to experience the famous Russian hospitality." They would enjoy comparing their drugs & alcohol to the Russian equivalents for sure.

I was sure Skinny Guys and Longhairs were not interested in getting scared shitless in a private meeting with this man, so I added: "It should be in a big setting, so a lot of people could enjoy the get together."

I held my breath. Was my remark too bold? Now he would give a nod to a soldier who'd lead me to a pool filled with sharks. Mels sensed I froze, he squeezed my upper arm with a little shake.

But Kirill was on the same page, he knew multiple private venues that could host a crowd. He emphasized the importance of supervision though. He didn't want loose capitalists straying in Moscow.

"Great, great," my head got into gear again, "I'll be glad to pass an invitation to the stars of the show."

"YAtak zhe interesuyus' tovarami. (I am also interested in merchandise.) YA mogu pomoch' v yego rasprostranen ii." (I may be of help distributing it.)

"Every rock band has its own merchandise. I will put you in touch with their PR people." I left our own stash unmentioned, I wanted to stay clear of Kirill as much I could.

When Mels pulled me out of the room, a weight lifted off me. I burst out, "what kind of people are we dealing with? Rich party bozos, KGB, mob? Will they make it an endless procession with handshakes? Will there be music, will there be girls? Do you know any women who are into rock music? Or into rock musicians?"

Mels burst out laughing and patted me on the back. "Good questions, Bareld, very good. If you leave it to the officials, the only women attending will be 40 plus, they'll keep their daughters away. Come with me, there's someone I'd like you to meet." We went up two flights of stairs. "By the way, I'm assigned to you. They want me to report your moves."

He opened a door with a sign: судья. "Referee," he said to my unasked question, and ushered me into the room. "Meet my sister Arisha. She speaks English as well." A woman put her book away and stood. Wow. His sister was a Bond girl. A face vibrant with life, like she was holding back something incredibly funny. I was just smiling goofily. Mels shook my arm again. "Bareld? Meet my sister Arisha."

I had to suppress my inclination to bow to her. "Great to meet you. You sure this is your brother and not your son?" I had no idea how this stupid remark found it's way to my mouth. But she burst out laughing. A laugh that could blow flowers into bloom.

"You were right, Mels, he is adorable." and to me: "Nice to meet you too. Do you want coffee?"

"Yes please." I welcomed a sense of normality. We sat at the table and she poured us a cup. The tension in my neck and shoulders left my body, to reappear in another bodypart.

Mels brought her up to speed in Russian. Arisha turned to me. "So you want girls to come?"

"Only if they're over eighteen." This wasn't a joke, Arisha still thought it was funny.

"I'm well over eighteen and I want to come. Party with Amerikantsy, and fuck Skinny Guy. And could you get me one of your jackets?" I immediately wanted to rise and give her my jacket.

Mels held me back. "She's not your size. Do you have women's sizes?"

"We do, we do."

She wanted to party, fuck Skinny Guy, and it would be a bonus if I could add a jacket and a cap to the equation. Plus, she had plenty of friends of the same mind. She wanted to know how many jackets we had. I told her Geraldine bought five times the amount we needed. and that we had jeans as well. The boxes in the buses.

"My friends and I, we'll come to the party, you give us jackets and jeans?" she asked. I answered I'd be happy to provide. "You could be our pimp", she said. I cringed at that remark. She noticed, smiled and ruffled my hair. "Buy girls for jeans."

The sudden gesture of affection ruffled me as well. "You're joking, right?"

It made her smile even more. She took her book and coat, and headed for the door. "I'll meet you tonight at party, da? Mels will show you. Don't forget boxes."

* * *

Multiple rooms at the stadium were assigned to our firm. We used them as offices, control rooms, and one as a private canteen. I caught Geraldine and told her about the girls and the clothes. She exploded. "Are you mad? You want to bribe girls into having sex with... Fuck you. You crossed a line here, Bareld. You're gone for half of the day and you come up with this?"

"Wait, wait. Geraldine, you haven't heard the whole story!" Shit, I should have started with the meeting with the army (and Kirill). When I explained the tense situation she calmed down a bit. I added: "Don't mistake those girls for pitiful and vulnerable. These are upper class women who are not to be denied. You called me a spoiled little brat?"

"Good of you to remember."

"Well, Arisha says her friends are women who would gladly pay for our jeans and jackets. And if they felt like fucking a rock star they would."

"Would they now." She let out a deep sigh. "We won't sell the clothes though. They're already paid for, they're meant to create goodwill." She thought for a bit. "Bareld, we do hand out our stuff, but let it be personal gifts. I don't want to turn it into business. Have you got any more?"

"I have to inform our American friends that they will be picked up from their hotels at certain times, to be escorted to the mansion of I-don't-know-who."

"Hah, good luck with that. So the army provides the transportation?"

"We are allowed to use our buses, as long as we're escorted."

"Hm, if they use our buses we can come as well." Her anger was gone now. "That might not be so bad, Bareld, it gives us the opportunity to join in. I assume the Russians are not inviting all of the band crews. I wouldn't mind seeing something more of Moscow beside our hotel."

I suspected Geraldine had another motive. She'd shown interest in the guys of the German band that was part of the line-up.

Mels and I set to work. We had the mandatory disposal of a black KGB car with a driver, to shuttle us to the hotel where all of us were hosted.

When we approached Band #1, Longhair #3 demanded a second party venue to be able to avoid certain colleagues. I sighed in myself, this wasn't going to be easy. I had no mandate to meet any demands.

A bombardment of questions and demands followed. I made the time-out sign, and I took Mels aside. "We got to change tactics. This way it will take forever and we can never satisfy all."

Mels held his chin. "Huh, what if..." He pointed at me. "You nice guy. Me: bad. Angry. Bossy." But Mels was a gentle guy, I couldn't see him pulling off a James Bond type villain. Should I be the bad guy? I didn't really qualify either.

I resumed the dialogue with the band. "There will be a military escort this evening..."

Suddenly Mels seemed to lose it. He started shouting and ranting in Russian. He pushed me, I got a slap to the back of my head, I could only shout: "At nine! Nine o'clock!" before Mels pulled me violently out of the room by the back of my collar. I could see the shock on the faces of Band #1.

Around the corner in the hall Mels dropped the anger like a dirty bathroom rug. He smiled and started apologizing, I cut him off. "Geezus, Mels! You're brilliant! You could teach Stanislavski!" I started to snicker. "No need for apologies. Did you see the look on the face of Skinny Guy #2? Shame I got no video, footage like this would make me rich!"

We perfected our act in the following meetings. Mels said to me: "I teach you Russian." He tapped my forehead twice. "Now you can understand Russian." I was slow.

"What? How?"

"Tell me what you want to say."

"Like what I just said to them? You guys need to be in the hall at nine pm?"

Mels started shouting in Russian again, gave me a whack; "Translate!"

I hesitated. "If you guys want to go, you need to be in the hall at nine?"

In a flash Mels was all smiles again. "See? You now understand Russian."

We issued the instructions to Band #2 to #7. Some of them may have been on to us, they seemed to enjoy our performance. I know we did. Time to check in with my employer.

* * *

It was Friday, dinnertime and we sat with Harry, Geraldine and the rest of the crew. I told them about the ominous meeting in the officers mess, our tour along the bands, and how Mels taught me Russian. We gave a little demonstration.

Mels rambled out a sentence in Russian and gave me a questioning look. I said: "Mels here says: Learning Russian is easy if you have a good teacher."

With a straight face he said, "exactly." Most of the crew chuckled, but one said, "Wow."

After the meal I found a couch in a dressing room. I just meant to hang for a moment, but I went out like a light.

Mels woke me up: "Vecherinka time Bareld! Party time!"

At the parking lot both our (Harry's) buses were ready to go. They were surrounded by jeeps and black cars. It was strange to see the famous Skinny Guys and Longhairs enter

our

buses.

The whole boarding process was a happening, something in between a school outing and a military exercise. The whole caravan started moving.

During the ride I could see the surroundings change. Through grizzled brick and concrete buildings we reached an outrageously wealthy part of Moscow. At the end of a huge driveway stood a marble monstrosity.

As everybody moved inside, I remained in the bus. I went through the boxes, and filled the biggest suitcase we had with a selection of our wearables.

With effort I dragged the suitcase up the marble steps. A few soldiers stood at the entrance, grinning at me. One of them made a gesture that I should go round the back. A service entrance? I felt silly but kept going.

In the ballroom I found Skinny Guy, Band #2 and Band #3. In the center of the room stood Arisha. She made a grand gesture, introducing me, and said, "this is my pimp, if you want girls, go to him." Again, louder: "This is our pimp, if you want girls, he's your man!"

What the hell?! I glanced at Mels, who obviously enjoyed my discomfort. He said with a nod to the suitcase, "Filled with red lights? I love the attention to detail of the Dutch. Go nuts, this house has lots of windows."

"Very funny. Where do I check in?" He snickered at that.

Arisha entered my personal space. Wearing heels she was just a bit shorter than me. She sat one hand on my shoulder. "You're not mad, are you, Bareld?"

When I looked into those radiant eyes, my angry thoughts were replaced by a desire to hold her. Please her. Was this how my mother made my father feel? I suddenly felt more sympathy for the man than I had in a long time.

"Erm, I'm not mad. Anymore." She burst out in a full laugh that came from deep inside.

She gave me a little kiss, ruffled my hair and looked at the suitcase. "You brought the clothes?" I nodded. "I'm thrilled! I'll find a room where you can put it." With a smile she vanished into the crowd.

Only a few moments ago I pictured myself getting drinks, chatting, flirting and dancing, letting go after a stressful day. But my new job apparently just started. Harry came to me, he said, "Pimp, it is our job to facilitate, and you're doing just that. I'm proud of you," and he chuckled. Go ahead and laugh, Harry. I've got a job to do.

* * *

Arisha got us a room with a billiard table in the middle, smelling of smoke. It had a faux leather cover, and I displayed the contents of the suitcase on it. Arisha brought her friends, one after the other. Not in a steady stream, just as they arrived or she bumped into them. She told me what they would like, and I made piles on the floor. Arisha put a post-it on top with their names, in Cyrillic script of course. Ленка meant Lenka, she wanted 5 caps and t-shirts for her children. It didn't show she was five times a mother, she was a feisty energetic woman. She came onto me, but Arisha cut her off.

"Why did you steer her away from me?"

"You're no match. She likes controversy, conflict, for fun. She's a great woman, but not for you."

"And you decide that for me?

She grinned, "yes, I decide." She closed in on me and whispered, "You're too sweet. When I go fuck Skinny Guy, I will think of you, all right?"

"Erm..."

She laughed at my face and was gone. I hated the idea she was going after Skinny Guy. Was there a way I could prevent it? Despite my reputation as a ladies man I rarely pursued women. Reacting to opportunities and going with the flow was my style. Now I was at a loss.

Longhair approached me with his arm around the waist of a curvy blond girl, she was wearing one of our caps. "Great job Pimp, keep up the good work."

She winked and said, "spasibo Pimp." (thanks Pimp.) By now Arisha was the only one still calling me Bareld.

The party was a blast. After a start where both sides tested the waters, the alcohol and the music did their work. Longhair #3 lived up to his reputation of being a rotten drunk, but judging to the bellowing laughter of both his Russian drinking partners, they weren't put off by his misbehavior. I saw Arisha moving around like a butterfly, leaving smiles wherever she went.

I danced some, had some conversations, but my heart wasn't in it. I kept an eye out for the girls. I think it was about 4am when Arisha caught me keeping track of a quarrel. "Gollantsy, let it go," she said, "That's Lenka remember? She is a tiger. If you worry, worry for him." She stepped into my space with her hands behind her back, her face inches off mine. "Bareld." I held my breath.

In the corner of my eye I saw Skinny Guy. She followed my gaze and snickered, "I changed my mind about him. I knew I wanted you when you came into the room with the suitcase beast."

You wanted me? Why didn't you show it? "

"I did, you fool. What have I been doing all evening?"

I scratched my head. She'd flirted with Skinny Guy, but others as well, and most of all ... with me.

I muttered, "we had a job to do, and you tease everybody, and you told me you had eyes on him."

She laughed and pulled me in. "You should have seen your face. Like you took a bite out of a lemon and pretending it was nice."

It made sense now. "And you kept squeezing the lemon. You're mean."

"I know. We're no good match either." She brought her face even closer, and I kissed her. Probing at first, but then it was as if a current started between the both of us. We took a deep breath and kissed again, feverish now. "We go upstairs," Arisha gasped. I cast my arm around her and felt her body settle into mine. I piloted us around wild moving dancers to the staircase.

* * *

We found a room with a silk-sheeted double bed. She closed the door and started unbuttoning my shirt. When I moved she said, "let me.", I did, but with my right hand I stroked her hair and made circles around her ear. She pushed me with my back onto the bed and bared me further. I relaxed under her touch.

With one movement she stripped off her cocktail dress, leaving only her bra and panties. She turned her back to me, wiggled her but and said, "pull."

When I pulled her panties down, she flopped down on the bed and said, "clasp." She hung her panties on one, and her bra on my other big toe. "Don't move, gotta keep them tidy." She took a moment to massage her feet.

"I know why they are called fuck me heels'," she muttered. "they fuck me all right."

I must have closed my eyes for a moment. I got a whack with a pillow. Arisha straddled me and whacked me again.

"In Russia... whack! we find it... whack! very, very rude... whack! to fall asleep in the presence... whack! of a horny girl!"

She felt her ministrations had stirred my member to life again. "Aha." I got one more whack but the sting was out of it. "Lucky for you there is at least one gentleman in the room."

She squeezed my dick a few times. "Welcome sir, you are very welcome." She slid him in. "Please enter. Hmm" He certainly did make him feel welcome, she felt heavenly around me. She started moving slowly, while she caressed me with the pillow. I started groaning and closed my eyes. When she sensed I was getting close I got another whack with the pillow.

"No you don't! She jumped off me and took position. "Dog, Bareld, dog! Fuck me! Woof!" I entered her as fast as I could. I could be a gentleman too.

I started pounding from behind, and I got into a trance. I barely registered her screaming as she came. When I felt her body going limp, I used even more force. The thought her will had left her, and she was now mine drove me over the edge. It was a glorious feeling.

I dropped myself onto the mattress, on my back. Arisha snuggled to my side, she was grinning again. With her finger she started doodling in my chest. "You sweet guy ... You also dog ... " I dozed off. She whispered: "I like sweet, and I like dog."

* * *

I awoke by a screaming Russian fellow. 'What the hell', I thought, 'shut up! Didn't you invite us?!'

I saw Arisha holding back a laugh. "He is the son. His bed. Wants to sleep. Now."

We hurried to grab our clothes, while the guy screamed about the wet spot. He started tearing the sheets of the bed, and used them to whack us out of the room. We stood naked in the hall, and he threw the sheets at us and slammed the door.

I muttered curses, staring at the door, but Arisha clearly enjoyed herself. She dropped her bundle of clothes and leaned into me. She stroked my head, and my chest. "You sweet, and dog, and also fun. Great sense of humor."

When I looked into her eyes, the grumpiness in my gut was replaced by little shocks in my belly, the feeling grew and I had to laugh. I kept snickering. "You are an incredible woman, Arisha. I could love you, you know." Oh god, my tongue beat my brain again. "Sorry I said that."

We were still standing, naked. Arisha's wandering hands found my cock. She let her boobs touch me, and by swaying her hips she could write with her nipples on my chest. When she felt me harden up, she grabbed the sheets and gave me two corners, while she held the others. She indicated to spread the sheets on the floor, and lay down on them.