Oulan the Mongolian

Yes, for real. As in, she was born and raised in Mongolia, immigrated at the age of 20 to the U.S. to attend N.Y.U, and somehow gravitated toward banking employment. Some colleagues of mine dragged me to a Wall Street meet and greet young future employees (or something like that). So after the standard speeches were given by several of the invited banking geniuses, there was a mingle session. So me and this friend were standing there sipping our Heineken and sampling some chicken satay, when out of the blue, a tall (5'9''), skinny, long haired, Oriental looking lady comes up to me and says: "Hi, I like your face, do you have a girlfriend?" To which I respond: "No, I am married". She did not bat an eyelash. And then she said she was raised in Mongolia and came here for school, and she had a young son in Russia with her estranged husband, sniff sniff etc etc. And she also told me that one of the managing directors at the place she worked offered to be her sugar daddy (Nah, a financial professional do that sort of thing? Never!) She was stunned and amazed and declined that offer. And all that within our first 30 minutes of talking. So she was living in Soho, near this great restaurant (Raoul's). After this party was over she needed help so I called a taxi for her. In the meantime I had to save her from the jaws of friend who was zooming in for attack. So I escorted her and she asks me to step in the taxi with her, and rests her head on my shoulder. Great, so now what do I do. I was seriously concerned she would throw up on me. We went into Raoul's and had a few more beers, and as we were talking she noticed my bruised knuckles. I had just worked out at the gym the day before, and usually I do a couple of rounds on the bag without any gloves. So I told her I train, just to relieve some frustrations and stay in shape in the same time. She said in Russia real men train without any gloves or protective gear. Well, I guess I would strike ot over there, wouldn't I? After a couple of drinks we went back to her place and she offered me a joint, which I took. Now the problem is, it was getting late, I needed to go home, and this joint certainly didn't help things, as I was starting to fall asleep. All I could do is crawl out of there and get myself a taxi. No sex happened with her at all, ever. I think she just wanted someone to drink with and complain to. I suppose had I pursued it a bit more, it could have happened. And then I could say I bagged a true descendant of the great Genghis Khan. It was her birthday a few days later, so I sent her an email saying happy birthday in Mongolian (thank you Google translator) and she responded with this totally amazed "Oh my God, you got it!".
We met a few more times for dinner, and she was always running soooo late. And once she even asked me: "You want to fuck me don't you". I just laughed at someone being so upfront! I did help her out financially, and after each gift, I felt naked. After all, there was no return on this particular investment, if you get my drift.
And during one of our discussions she said she wants me to go down the Amazon with her, and she was planning this great birthday surprise for me. But by that time I was getting tired of the whole situation as fun as it was, and I bailed out. And I was certainly not going to go down the Amazon with anyone! You kidding? That whole place is infested with man eaters! On our way out of this restaurant I did drag her towards me and seeing she was wearing a shirt that showed just a glimpse of her nice muscular belly, I slid a few fingers over it and planted a big passionate one on her, right in the middle of this Soho street with the cabs zooming by.
Nice little adventure, and I always wonder what she would have been like in bed. I would have been more motivated to try had she not been such a scatter brain.