I was just glad to finally arrive. It had been an excruciatingly long flight and all I could think about was finding my friend, Mark, and getting to a bed for some rest.

Mark had been living in Tashkent, Uzbekistan, for two years as an assistant program director for a U.S. government-funded educational development project. He had invited me to come over and check out the country for a few weeks since I was recently graduated from the Ohio State University with an M.A. in Russian history and I had no immediate job prospects. I was glad to get the additional international exposure, though I honestly had very little idea of what to expect in Uzbekistan.

When I finally had made it through customs, I walked through a small door and into a crowd of people waiting in the night air for friends and family – and a throng of pushy taxi drivers. I was being pressured by a particularly annoying driver when I was grabbed by the arm. I spun around quickly for fear of losing my bags, but was pleasantly surprised to see my friend, Mark, barking some Russian at the drivers and pulling me to relative safety outside the pack.

“Hey, man! It’s good to see you,” he said. “How was the flight?”

“I’m sure you can imagine,” I answered. “Long, boring … But it sure is good to finally be on the ground!”

I gave him a quick “man hug” and we turned to find his car.

In the car, Mark explained to me that he was doing some repairs at his house, so he had arranged to rent an apartment for me for the first couple of nights – just until his place was back up to snuff.

We drove on for 10 minutes through the Tashkent night, catching up on things. The city, according to a map I’d seen before the trip, was sandwiched between desert and mountains. From what I could see out the window at night, though, it had more trees than I thought it would. And I noticed that about half of the storefront signs in the city were in Russian, the other half being in what I supposed to be Uzbek. We finally pulled into a neighborhood of one- and two-story houses surrounded by walls at least eight feet high. We stopped in front of one of them.

“This is my place,” Mark said. “I want to show you how to get in and where everything is, in case you need something while I’m not home.”

We opened the gate and stepped into a courtyard.

The house was a nice one-story job. Mark showed me the kitchen and the room that would be mine once the workers finished up.

“The radiator leaked all over the floor yesterday,” he explained. “There’s some damage to the wood floor, but mainly I need to get the pipes fixed permanently. I had some guys out here today, but they won’t be back till Saturday or Sunday probably. That’s Uzbekistan for you.”

“It’s OK,” I said. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ll probably sleep in tomorrow, anyway. And then it’ll just be one more day. … Tomorrow is Friday, right?”

“Right,” Mark said, grinning. “You’re probably jet-lagged and ready to sleep. I’ll take you to your place.”

He gave me some keys – one to his house and one for the apartment where I’d be staying – then we drove down the street and back behind a set of apartment high-rises.

“It’s a just a couple minutes walking distance,” he said. “It’s an OK place. Two bedrooms, a balcony. I hope it’ll be alright. Oh, before I forget, take this.”

He handed me a piece of paper with his address and phone number written on it.

“I you ever get stuck somewhere, just call me. Or give this paper to a cab driver. He’ll know how to get here.”

Mark helped me lug my stuff up two flights of stairs. We found my place on the second landing and, just as I slipped the key into my door, the door to the apartment next to mine opened. A girl in her early 20s stepped out, dressed very well and apparently ready for a night on the town.

I can say without exaggerating that she was gorgeous. She was slender (that was plain to see from the skin-tight dress that showed off her just-right curves) and on the tallish side, about 5-foot-7 or a little taller. She had long dark brown hair that fell to the small of her back. And big eyes. Unforgettable big eyes.

I was dumb-struck, but Mark said something to her in Russian as she walked toward us to get to the stairs. She said something back and looked him in the eyes. I wishfully imagined that she’d smiled at me as she passed, and I glanced after her as she walked down the steps.

Once inside the apartment, I said something to Mark about the girl.

“Looks like I set you up with a very nice neighbor, doesn’t it?” he grinned.

“Wow. Nice eyes! And legs, too. … But I’ll probably never be able to talk to her,” I sighed.

“Aw, come on. What are you talking about?”

“Mark, my Russian is far from good, and she’s drop-dead gorgeous … not that it matters.”

“You’ve got the wrong attitude, man! Listen, you remember how pathetic I was in the States around hot girls?”

I nodded. We’d been friends at Bowling Green as undergrads. I had been the one with the steady girlfriend and he’d been the one with no action at all.

“Well, I’ve learned a few things that you’d probably do well to figure out, too,” he said.

I looked at him skeptically. I suppose I was also a bit embarrassed that I’d given away the fact that it had been awhile since I’d had much success with a woman … not to mention a beautiful one. My college girlfriend (her name was Kelly) had joined the Peace Corps and I had chosen to go on to grad school, so we’d agreed to let things end there. Things had been pretty slow since then. But now was I supposed to sit there and take advice from a guy I knew had been lamer than me when we’d been friends back in our undergrad days?

Mark started to tell me a little about some things he’d started doing to improve his body, his attitude, and his sexual performance. He said he had confidence with women that he’d never enjoyed before. But I was honestly a little weirded out by this line of discussion – plus I was exhausted – so I don’t remember much of what he said that night.

The next day I woke up feeling groggy.

The jet leg was killing me. But I could see it was daytime and I wanted to get on the local schedule, so I forced myself into the shower. When I finally came to my senses, that girl I’d seen in the hall popped into my mind.

As I stood there, the water running over me, I imagined her naked body, slim and supple, in my arms, the water running down her smooth back as I caressed every part of her. I could feel my penis getting harder at the thought of it, and I began to slowly stroke my shaft, imagining her squatting before me, her lips around me and her tongue massaging my manhood. I could feel her hands on my ass as she slowly licked up and down my dick, pausing only to suck on my balls.

The pleasure was intense as I pictured her rubbing the underside of my shaft with her tongue, her lips, her chin and then, with the tip of her tongue, teasingly licking the small amount of pre-cum that had begun to bubble up from deep within me before going all the way back down on my cock to milk me of every last drop of the scarce fluid.

My dick was throbbing with each pulse of blood that coursed through it and I knew I wouldn’t last much longer. I didn’t care, though. (And the shower certainly wasn’t going to object!)

In my mind, she stood and, with that smile I’d imagined the night before, she turned her back to me and bent over. With her left arm braced against the shower wall and the other pulling her pink, engorged pussy lips open, she turned her head to me and said “fuck me hard” with those big, deep brown eyes.

I closed my eyes and came with a coarse grunt as I mentally pushed my hard dick deep inside her tight pussy. Damn!

For the rest of the morning I was pretty much obsessed with the thought of her. I even looked out the peep hole in my front door, hoping to accidentally spot her on the landing.

I began to think about my stay in Tashkent and what I wanted to do while I was there. There wasn’t much for me to do, really. I had no “job” and I was basically on vacation. Add to that the fact that I was far from home – among people I would likely never see again – and I began to get an idea. I was a free man, I thought to myself. I had nothing to lose and some good sex to gain by simply letting lose and going for it with the neighbor girl. It certainly couldn’t hurt to try.

So I decided to knock on her door.

After knocking, I realized that if she answered I wouldn’t be able to explain why I had knocked on her door. I had no “story” and my Russian was not that great. I felt like an idiot and wanted to duck back inside my own place. But I thought that would make me look even stupider, so I decided I would have to play the help-the-poor-foreigner card.

After a few moments, a female voice from behind the door asked who was there. To my surprise, I answered with the word for “neighbor” without thinking.

After a few moments of confusion with me trying to explain myself through the door in rather bad short Russian phrases, there was a pause and I heard the locks being turned. Shit, I thought, what am I doing? What am I going to say?

My worries were, as it turned out, premature because the door opened to reveal a slightly shorter, slightly younger girl than the one I’d seen the night before. She looked me over briefly.

“Ot kooda vy,” she said, and I understood that she’d asked me where I was from.

“America,” I said, hoping that would get me a positive reaction.

I detected a sly grin and then, after a pause, she said in carefully enunciated English, “How I can help you?”

English! This was progress! The relief must have shown on my face because the girl smiled a little bashfully and added, “Maybe English is better for you?”

“Oh, yes,” I gushed. “I’m glad to meet you. My name is Jonathan. I’m here to visit my friend for a few weeks, but I’m staying here until he gets some repairs done at his house.”

She was apparently deep in thought. Maybe that was too much, too fast. I started again, more slowly.

“My name is Jonathan. It’s nice to meet you.”

A nice smile, and then, “My name is Lilya.”

She looked like she wanted to say something else, but couldn’t quite get it out. I noticed that, while she lacked the other girl’s stunning good looks, she was rather pretty in her own way. She had nice lips and a charming, disarming smile. Her dark hair was wavy and it fell to about shoulder length. She seemed about 5-foot-5 and, even with her jeans and sweatshirt, I could guess that she was in pretty decent shape. I was watching her bite her lower lip when she quickly looked up.

“I’m sorry that my English very bad,” she said with the Russian accent that I’d developed an affection for during grad school. “I’m student in the university.”

Just then her phone rang.

“I’m sorry, it’s the telephone,” she said. “I go to answer. Um… maybe you will wait?” And she disappeared into her apartment, waiving at me with her hand to stay still.

I didn’t have to wait long and she was back at the door, flashing that attractive smile and obviously trying hard to think of the right words to say.

“I’m sorry,” she said looking flustered, “I now should go to my house quickly.”

That comment threw me. She didn’t live there? I was a bit confused and she took advantage of the pause to step out onto the landing. She turned her back to me to lock the door and I could see now that she was indeed blessed with a great body. At least, I should say, that part of her body that I could see clearly, which was her ass.

I swallowed hard.

“Oh, you don’t live here?”

I was trying to sound nonchalant, but I was really thinking something more like, “Jeez, if her ass looks this good in jeans…”

“No,” she said as she turned to face me, “this is the house of my sister, or … kak nado skazat … cousin. Now I quickly must go to meet her.”

Maybe I was just horny, but this girl was getting cuter by the minute. Or maybe it was just delirium from the jet lag. Whatever the case, I was still a little confused about who was who, but I didn’t care too much at that point.
She stepped around me and headed for the steps.

“I’m sorry I must go now,” she said, again smiling. “Maybe we will meet with you again.”

With that, she turned and headed down the stairs, skipping the bottom two steps with a funny little hop.

“Bye,” I called after her, not a little bit lamely.

I smiled to myself as I stood on the landing. True, I hadn’t met the girl I’d been thinking about, but I felt like I had an “in” now. Plus, the girl I had met was actually quite cute. And that fantastic butt!

After a minute of just standing there, I realized that I was starving. I wondered what time it was. I stepped back into my apartment to check. It was already 3 p.m.! I had no idea what time I had finally gone to bed the night before, but I must have slept for at least 15 hours.

I decided to go see Mark, tell him what I’d done, and get something to eat.

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