Posts Tagged ‘lay report’

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

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Cost of a hooker in Soho, London: £30 (So I’m told…).

It’s a Friday night and the sky looks miserable, but it’s hot. Like tropical hot. The air is thick with water vapor, hinting at a future downpour and makes doing anything physical seem like a big effort. Given this I’m not surprised the bar is dead. I’m just polishing of my first beer.

Beer: £3.70, Total: £3.70

Me and a couple of wings are hitting on girls in a quiet corridor that connects two parts of the bar to one another. The responses are luke warm. We could probably do something with this but the heat and the fact the venue is so dead just seems to be making us lethargic. I’m about to call it an early night when one of my wings suggests a bounce to a club. I don’t like the idea because I’ll have to pay the cover, but I agree to go along just to have a look through the window.

Arriving at the club and looking through the window it isn’t very busy. Probably less than 50% capacity. Despite this, the hotties I see through the window in their short skirts shaking their asses convince me to part with the £10 for the cover charge. I head inside with my two wings.

Cover charge: £10, Total: £13.70

The club’s owners appear not to have heard of air conditioning. It’s sweltering and the dance floors all stink of sweat. I get myself a bottle of beer.

Beer: £4.70, Total: £18.40

I chill out for a bit. I’m really not in the mood tonight. I can’t bring myself to open a single set. I see a girl on the edge of the dance floor dancing and grinding her hips. She looks like an HB6. We’ll call her HBGlasses. The way she moves her body attracts me. I’d like to fuck her, but I’m not sure if the dancing is a DTF indicator or attention whoring.

It’s not quite AA, but I can’t bring myself to approach. This is what I’m like in clubs recently. I don’t have a hardcore fear of approaching, it’s more like an apathy. I almost can’t be bothered to approach. There’s still some anxiety,. it’s just not the full on, stomach churning fear it used to be.

Some time passes. I try hitting on a few girls by standing between the bar and the girls’ toilets and poking or grabbing them as they go by. I try about 3/4 girls but nothing hooks well. More time passes and I find myself on a half empty dance floor. I notice HBGlasses out of the corner of my eye. I make eye contact and smile. She smiles back. It’s on.

“Hello”, I say as I approach. She says hi back, her American accent obvious over the loud music. “Buy me a drink and I’ll dance with you!”, she offers. I laugh, “Dance with me an I’ll buy you a drink”. We dance for a couple of minutes, during which time she refuses the k-close, then she asks me to get her a drink again. I decide she’s only after a free drink and this is going nowhere. I tell her no, and walk away. She comes over to me, “Well I’m going to get a drink, do you want to come with me?”. Now I’m curious as to where this might lead. I agree and take her by the hand and lead her to the bar.

The bar is rammed. Looks like a 15 minute wait for drinks. We chit chat about the differences between clubs in the UK and US for a minute, then I decide we’ll get served quicker at the other bar. I grab her hand and lead her there. She’s a bit drunk and not quite sure where I’m taking her. I tell her it’s OK and she seems happy for me to take the lead.

We bump into one of her friends on our way downstairs. I explain where I’m taking her, and her friend goes upstairs to be with her other friends.

The bar queue downstairs is much shorter, as I knew it would be at this time. She grinds against me as we wait to be served. She orders her drink then asks me what I want. I go for a Jack and Coke. She is sort of making out at this stage that she is going to buy the drinks. Score. My cocks really throbbing by now, this girl can move her ass. American girls can grind much better than other girls. God bless America.

Then the barmaid tells us the cost of the drinks. HBGlasses motions that I’m paying. Cheeky bitch I think. “Cheeky bitch”, I say. “You’ve got the dick, you pay the bill”, she retorts. The fact that I have a huge stiffy and am honestly starting to believe that this girl is DTF leads me to agree and pay the bill. I may say I was right to do this instead of calling her out and refusing to pay because I sensed it was on, but that could be me backward rationalizing a mistake which happened by chance to lead to a good thing. I still wonder whether buying the drinks was a good or bad move in the long term.

Drinks: £11.20, Total: £29.60

We dance and drink for a while. “I have to get back to my friends” she says. She’s off now she’s got the drink. Fuck that. Not on my watch. Not with the size of this erection.

I drag her into a corner and grind her hard, “Wait till you’ve finished your drink, then go back to them”. I get the kiss close moments later. I just know at this stage that I have a good chance of fucking her tonight, so I probe for logistics. Turns out her apartment is all the way over in East London.

Me: Shit, that’s a long way. How are you getting home?

Her: I don’t know, I lost my Oyster card (card for paying for travel on London’s public transport).

Me: I live close by. Just 20 minutes by taxi. You’ll have to come home with me. It’ll be for the best.

Her: I don’t know, I have to find my friends…

Me: Look, I would just take your number but my phone’s out of battery (the truth lol).

Her: That’s a shame

Me: I know. So what we need to do, is go back to my flat so I can charge my phone and we can swap numbers.

She thinks about it intensely for a few moments.

Her: Ok.

Epic.

Her: But I have to find my friends first. I’ll need to tell them.

Fail.

I know if she finds her friends my chances of a lay will plummet. She seemed to be with a fairly large group, so at least one of them will cock block, especially since she’s a little drunk. This girl’s hind brain wants to fuck me so she’s allowing any fuzzy logic that gives her plausible deniability that she’s coming to mine to fuck me to win over her fore brain. Her friends won’t be so easily convinced. We wander off to find her friends. I’m not hopeful.

It’s then that dumb luck intervenes…

To be continued.

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Stats since 1st September:
1 number closes
3 kiss closes
1 f closes

Thank god I’m an atheist

Posted: May 21, 2011 in Uncategorized
Tags:

I fclosed the married girl. Bad I know, but as Roissy might say, the sexual market is a free market.

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Stats since 1st May:
24 approaches
4 number closes
1 kiss closes
1 f closes