Archive for October, 2011

A quick update

Posted: October 24, 2011 in Uncategorized

Regular readers my have noticed that I’ve been a bit slack at updating this blog in the past month. I would say I’ve been busy, but that would be a lie. I’m just fucking lazy.

I have a bumper crop of around 10 posts coming over the next couple of weeks. Just to quickly let you know where I’m at with my game here’s a quick update.

The month of October has been quite successful for me. I fclosed 2 girls in 1 month from cold approach for the first time. I now have 2 fuck buddies. I deflowered a virgin. Posts to follow…

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Stats since 1st October:
1 number closes
1 kiss close
2 f closes

Read Part 1

The layout of the club is confusing if you haven’t been there before. People have described it as a labyrinth. All though I know my way around it like the back of my hand now, when I first went there I kept getting lost. This causes HBGlasses to confuse the downstairs dance floor with the upstairs one where her friends are (it’s to do with downstairs being split level). “OMG my friends left me! How could they do that!”. I’m just about to correct her, telling her that we’re still downstairs, and her friends are upstairs. Then a light bulb goes off above my head, cartoon style, “Yeah that sucks of them. You’ll have to come home with me. I’ll look after you”.

She agrees, but wants to finish her drink first, so I sit in a booth running comfort on her as she has her drink. She tells me she has a bf back in the US, and so she hopes I won’t try and take advantage of her when I get her home. She’s delegating all responsibility for any sex that occurs to me at this point. I can live with that. “That’s cool, I understand” I say. “Besides it’s late. I’ll probably be asleep as soon as we get to mine”.

They call it the ‘game’ for a reason. This part, pretending there’s no forethought of sex before an extraction to the sex location seems crazy. You both know what’s happening. You know what she’s saying is bullshit. She knows what you are saying is bullshit. She knows you know what she’s saying is bullshit. You know she knows…you get the impression. The rules of this part of the game seem obvious to me, and it’s easily played. Despite this, I can’t help but imagine many a chode has fucked himself up at this stage, trying to logically and verbally agree that sex will take place at this stage. I don’t blame them, the situation is so absurd it often makes me actually laugh.

More comfort on the way back to mine in the taxi. When I say comfort, I mean she talks and I listen. In most sets getting the girl to talk is the challenge. This isn’t the case with American girls.

Taxi: £25.00, Total: £54.60

We arrive back at mine and settle in. We’re sat on the couch. It’s time to escalate but she won’t stop talking. American girls.  I cut her off mid sentence by taking off her glasses, telling her I want to see her eyes. We kiss passionately. My hand is up her skirt like a rat up a drain pipe and I’m going for the clit. Get her too fucking horny to object before she decides to object is my standard plan in these situations.

She know’s what game I’m playing and stops me sharpish. I think I’ve almost perfected the way I deal with having escalation attempts blocked. I just stop, but never actually acknowledge what happened. This is something I learned from60 Years of Challenge. Once you verbalise a rejection, it becomes official in a girl’s mind. Ignoring the rejection minimises it, and lessens the chance of her falling into the frame of rejecting you.

The two of us sit there in silence for a moment. She looks at me, her eyes burning with lust, “You’re just too damn cute” she says. 60 seconds later we’re in my bed fucking. She gives amazing head, and deep throats me. I’m starting to realise that American girls give better head than English girls. I’ve heard others say this too. God bless America.

As soon as we finish she freaks and wants to go home. I talk her out of it. Travelling all the way across London by bus at this time of night would be crazy. I promise her food and she calms down. We go out to the only takeaway open near my flat at 4am, a budget Southern Fried chicken joint. I think the word’s ‘budget’ and ‘southern fried chicken’ used together give you an idea of how bad the food is, but it all tastes suprisingly nice when a bit drunk.

Chicken: £7.20, Total: £61.80

After we’re done eating I fuck her again. In the morning I buy her an oyster card with some credit on it as promised, and send her home.

Oyster: £10.00, Total: £71.80

So it’s £30 vs £71.80. Still, preferable to actually paying for sex in my eyes.

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Stats since 1st October:
1 number closes
1 kiss close
2 f closes