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About Astana

Oh, and the profiles—lordy! “Lookin’ for my Tyrone!”—girl, he ain’t real! Dudes posin’ with fish—why? Ain’t nobody swipin’ for trout! Makes me laugh, cry, scream—total strategery fail. Sex-dating’s a jungle, y’all—half’s predator, half’s prey. “You’re tearing me apart!” I yell in my head, watchin’ ‘em swipe into oblivion.

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I indulge in Cunnilingus (give) for extra charge and Kissing if good chemistry whenever possible. I'm a firm believer that opposites attract and complement each.

First thing, I get to the shop on Kabanbay Batyr Street. My buddy, Askar, is already there, messin’ with a raccoon pelt. I swear, that dude’s got a knack for makin’ anything look good. But today? He’s all stressed out. Turns out, he messed up a custom order for some rich lady. She wanted a fox coat, and he gave her a badger. Oops!