Ursula, The Russian Spy

Ursula, the Russian Spy, came about when I was staying at my then boyfriend's loft in NYC.  He had inherited some sort of car business and was constantly talking about the Gumball Rally and Bullrun and all sorts of gadgets to make the fastest time driving across country.  All that mattered to me was the sex.  I'm not sure if it was his infectious laugh, his massive porn collection hidden in a built-in floor vault designed by a decorator, his fast car collection, his thick cock, or his big loft, but somehow he knew just how to turn me on.  And so we were "dating", some four thousand miles apart.  

On one of my weekly visits to his loft, while he was at his inherited job, waiting for him to return home so he could fuck me before heading out with God knows who so we could turn one another on only to return to the loft and fuck some more, I went for a walk.  It was one of those street vendor shops only Manhattan knows all too well, where I saw this wig.  It was short dark hair, with some pink high-lights, giving that smart Brunette just a bit of fun.  I had to have it.  

Returning to the loft, I knew exactly what I was going to do with it... get out my camera, some lingerie, and with the wig in place, remind my lover, through email, that I was not so quietly waiting for his return.  It started with photos of "Ursula, The Russian Spy" on her mission.  She was breaking into his loft, discovering his secret "materials" only to get turned on herself, before leaving.  All was properly documented.  And when he returned home, we had incredibly naughty sex with the wig in place.  

I returned to Los Angeles, knowing all too well where to find him on www.nerve.com (fyi, the very best dating site for anyone slightly left of center.)  I created a profile, using one of the many hopeful porn girls who had sent me their photos.  She was perfect... looked exactly like his mother.  And I gave her his mother's job prior to marrying his father... flight attendant.  He had posted, under favorite movies, a porn with a note that to anyone who really knew that movie he would give fifty bucks.  Truth be told, I had never heard of that porn, but a quick google search and I knew all I needed.  A few emails with me as this other woman, with him not having a clue it was me, and a date was set to meet... fifty bucks in hand.  

I then contacted a male friend in the big apple, and clued him in.  He was to meet my boyfriend at the bar at the W hotel, deliver the Ursula Spy file and request the fifty bucks for his troubles. I took the photos of me as Ursula, now "breaking-in" to my place and discovering this false on-line girl to be the real me.  I Fed-exed them to my friend who arrived at the set rendez-vous in place of the fabulous creature I had devised.  And my man laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and so did I.  My friend received his fifty dollars and my boyfriend and I knew exactly where we stood.  He loved my creativity and I loved his ability to spark this in me.  And so the whole exclusive thing and possible cheating was entirely avoided.  

Instead, Ursula, with that same great wig, started showing up in my movies.  I was on a creative roll, inspired by my man.  And the sex rocked!  Certainly giving me lots of material for my movies.  We even found another couple on nerve.com to get it on.  

Then, another trip East, taking care of his turtles while he was out of town caring for some sick relative... yeah, I may be blonde but I was starting to see through this one... or perhaps feel would be the better choice of words.  I discovered a hairdryer in his bathroom.  This is a man who shaved his entire head.  A hairdryer?!  To make matters worse, I suddenly noticed a shampoo bottle and hair conditioner in his shower!  I knew this wasn't for his pubic hair, which he never did shave neatly for me.  I was on a mission and out came Ursula.  I didn't have the wig, but I had recently purchased a black bunny fur Russian hat, so I devised Ursula's cohort, Katrina. And the photos revealed the spy's discovery... the other woman's cheap fur scarf, and God were her clothes silly, but in particular the robe on the back of the bathroom door with the other woman's name monogrammed into it... the very robe he had purchased for all of his employees and had told me he had also purchased one for me with a monogrammed "Kat."  I never did see my robe.  But, hers was definitely standing out like a sore thumb. 

It was the last time I would send this lover an Ursula file.  It was the end of our sexual relationship, but Ursula had only just begun.  And I'll always love him for that.