- Joined
- Dec 7, 2019
- Messages
- 240
Before the Approach
Deep into the dusk demesnes of night is a flickering ember of belief, of hope, of conviction, of progress, of self-fulfillment, of deconditioning, of removal, of gain.
The rotten scoundrels of the past do not matter as determined steps are taken in these shadows, nor do the heavenly expanses of future prophecies. What really matters is the now – the feeling of the now – not introspection but outward expression.
Everything is starting to make a little more sense, I think, as my feet carry my body into familiar settings.
This is Friday night. Picture it as a humid, nascently springtime milieu just a tad past 1:00 AM. Picture me as dressed in a well-fitting black tee (the type that is cut lower in the back than in the front), washed jeans, black suede sneakers with light blue accents, silver necklace, silver bracelet, black hairband. For all of my recent confusion, I at least have been upkeeping my workout regimen and the effects are popping a bit more now.
I find my way to at favorite bench, a fateful spot beautifully jettisoned circa a series of large apartment buildings predominantly housed by college students. If you don’t know how I game here, how I game here is this: I post-up at the bench with my phone as a prop, I wait for the sporadic passerby (typically a partygoer), attempt to induce an AI, then work to stop her, hook, immerse, and pull.
It’s the culmination of a school-year long study in Covid-time street nightgame. It’s not the most efficient, relatively-speaking, as I only receive maybe a few approach opportunities in a few hours. But I enjoy the plentiful bounty that may result, so I find that it’s well worthwhile.
So I’m here, doing the things that I do, practicing breathing exercises and making mental notes, when a cute brunette appears in the periphery. After a sprezzaturatic pre-opener, I stop her with intrigue bait and have her sit next to me, inquiring her thoughts on some relationship problem that my fake friend is having. She’s engaged and even begins to touch her knees to mine, but I never am able to ram past the ASD associated with bailing on a promised meet-up with a friend. I lose her in the end, but it was a solid start to the night.
Around thirty minutes pass before another passerby passes. Sigh, it happens. But all we need is one, so the move is to stay calm, focused, and ready.
The clatter of girlish footsteps, the symphony of female voice. Ah, there’s someone nearing. I’ve grown to anticipate the thrilling rush of this moment right before I take a small glance over my shoulder to deem her approach-worthy or let that one slide.
What we have here is a tall, sylphlike blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl with a phone to her ear. Her clothing is not reminiscent of the rompers, daisy dukes, or shiny black pants that seem to be en vogue here. Instead, she is dressed in a white tank – clearly with no bra – and a flowy yellow skirt. A chain of blue beads comprises her low-drooping necklace. The color is a perfect complement to the dyed-blue streak in her hair, which is further accented with a blue bow of the same color. And the look is garnished with a plaid neck scarf, gold hoop earrings, and glittering blue eye shadow.
Eccentric, eclectic, very different.
Looks-wise, she is not a stunner but across the HB borderline. I need to focus on embracing a tasty platter of sexual experiences, so once the HB designation is made, the approach must come.
The Approach and Pull
When I breathe and glance up from my phone, I am already met by her eye contact. Before I say anything, she says something, despite a phone being glued to her ear. Hi!
“Hey there. Wait… hold on… I need to ask you something. Are you the type of girl who can give good advice about relationships? Not for me… but for my friend Jada.”
She pauses in front of me and smiles. Her free hand motions towards her phone. I then make a playful gesture for her to hang up the phone. With a half-turn away and a “one moment” finger, I overhear her wrapping up the conversation. It takes a minute for her to do so. Meanwhile, I’m tapping at nothing on my phone.
Finally, HBBlueSparkle is about to end her call with perceivable annoyance. The final sounds before she abruptly hangs up are a juxtaposition of words and tone. She says it dismissively.
"Love you, Chris."
Then she quickly sits down next to me, asking what’s up.
Things at this moment are looking and feeling good. I had more material for the new revision of the “My Friend Jada” gambit – about how there’s this guy she kind of likes but doesn’t want to feel slutty with. Which is a feeling that she shouldn’t have, of course, because desire is as natural as breathing and hunger.
But I let it hang as an open loop and let the conversation flow, given that she brought up her subject of passion.
From this point, the next five-to-ten minutes consist of an elicitation of not so much her spirituality but more so about selfless mentalities, and I also touch on SOTs of spontaneity and adventure. Eventually, it is revealed that she’s a local actress. A thespian partaking in local plays. She’s dropped out of school to pursue that full-time. It gives juicy content of role-playing and transformation that I decide put in the bag for later.
Instead, I ask her what she’s up to. Nothing, she says. The question is boomeranged to me. Thinking about winding down my night, maybe finding a way back to my place and making some music as that’s what I do to relax. Before I even make the invitation or leave it as an open-loop, I see a flash in her eyes.
The sense that I could have pulled already occurred earlier on, but I pushed myself for patience due to risk-aversion. Now, I know that she’ll accept.
I ask if she’d like to give her thoughts on some music, and she readily agrees. Neither of us have a car, and she doesn’t want to Uber. She insists on making the 25-minute walk to my place. Fine with me. We begin the walk. After bumping into me a couple of times, I just take her hand and hold it. Leading the way down the streets.
Here I draw for imaginative questions. Say she won the lottery, and money was no object… where would she go? Nepal. Okay, I completely get that… because you have the mountainous expanses, grassy green valleys, and puffy white clouds that give you a sense of secret remoteness and really allow yourself to escape and lose yourself because of how in touch you are with nature. So now say that she’s booked the flight, eagerly anticipated it for months, and now just stepped off the plane… what’s the first adventurous thing that she’d do?
It goes on like that. After a while, she says that she really needs to use the bathroom. Inquires if I know anywhere on the way – perhaps the gas station? I respond that the gas station doesn’t have bathrooms (no idea if that’s true), and the only spot that I know of is in some alleyway. It’s kind of dark and sketchy, though.
My ears hear a response that she’ll just wait until we get to my place.
For the rest of the walk, I encourage her to rhapsodize about what acting means to her. Like, it must be so freeing to become whoever you want to be. Not chained down by the self-imposed constraints that everyone else believes.
That’s what she likes about acting the most, apparently. Despite currently cast in some Shakespeare anthology, what she’s really focusing on is her YouTube and Tik Tok channels. I say that she’ll have to show me later.
Into my place, and I turn on my speaker and aromatherapy diffuser while she uses the bathroom. When she comes out, HBBlueSparkle sits on my adjacent futon instead of next to me on the bed. A framed picture catches her attention. Her hand curiously reaches for it, asking who the other person is. It’s my dad and me.
I stand up, gently take the picture from her, set it down, graze her fingertips with mine, and softly suggest that she’d be more comfortable sitting on my bed than that old and rugged futon. She giggles and comes with me to the bed.
Perhaps I could’ve talked about family, but I’d rather talk about music in this moment. I turn on the playlist and leave my own music for later if necessary. The topic for the next few minutes is about connecting with music, feeling it, removing yourself from this world into one of exciting kicks and electrifying snares… almost if you can feel the beat pulsating all the way up through your body.
She lays down now, murmuring something about being tired. I mirror this movement. For the next minute, I transition between strong eye contact and staring at the ceiling, working to build anticipation still. I know she’s ready for escalation, but I work it a few moments longer before I turn to lay on top of her with our lips touching.
The Sex
Kissing, caressing, whispering. All of that.
The shirt comes off easily. Yep, no bra. There’s a little resistance when I reach for the skirt not too long later, but I fractionate back upwards and then the rest of her clothes easily slide off.
My fingers work her pussy, and my tongue works her breasts. When she cums, she does do viscerally. Her face and neck became really, really red. She goes to the bathroom afterwards. When she gets back, I’m really gentle with her before getting inside in adapted missionary – condom on. I’m not as hard as I’d like, but it’s been better than in times previous. My body is quite tired and I’m not feeling much, so I just finish her off again with my fingers. She goes to the bathroom again.
Upon her return, I lightly press down on her shoulders.
I want you on your knees.
She’s enthusiastic about doing so. Her blowjob is okay at first, but she works hard at trying to find the right spots and technique, so it turns out to be very, very nice. It was also highly enjoyable to play with the bow in her hair – definitely something to reflect happily on.
After some time of lightly tugging on her hair and periodically making sure that she looks up at me, I cum, and she swallows. I welcome her back up onto the bed and make sure to be very exploratorily affectionate. Cuddling and deep-diving. This will be a ONS, but I want to, ahem, put the ribbon on a nice experience.
We discuss favorite movies and memories. Family and future. I practice more elicitation and a little time warping so I can get the feel of it for another time. Her movements and overall actions have become extremely slow and deliberate now. Dramatic whisks of her willowy arms.
Looking around the bed, my eyes catch the shimmer of small particles. On my body, and on hers, too. From her glittering eyeshadow, or glitter and glittering eyeshadow. I can’t tell, exactly.
Blue sparkles everywhere.
Post-Lay
It’s around 4:30 AM when the idea of going home is mentioned. I’m fine with it because both of us are very tired and not really able to fall asleep. She’s a 45-minute walk away from her place, so I offer an Uber. But she insists on walking again. Her home is not the fancy, hotel-like extravaganzas of some other girls, and I don't want her to walk there alone at this hour. We both enjoy walking and each other's company, so I just make the walk back with her. This makes her very happy.
HBBlueSparkle reveals how she broke up with her boyfriend yesterday. That was Chris. It had to be something like that. Either cheating, an orbiter, or a breakup, from the way she handled that phone call. Somewhat ironic considering the gambit...
I finally see some of her YouTube and Tik Tok videos. They are quite quirky just like her - a source of pride. She inquires my age, so I find out her age. 22. I just tell her that for clear satisfaction.
Her dad is a pastor. Moved the family all around the country in her childhood. Had some tension there, and she has slightly different beliefs now. There are some red flags with this girl, but we’ve had a nice time and it’s all good.
We finally reach her dilapidated complex. I say it’s homey and reminds me of a strong community. She agrees.
A final make-out as I feel up her body, and an emphatic validation about how she’s a great kisser. And a quick word of best wishes. It’s received nicely.
The look in her eyes say that she’s probably expecting a number close, but I just smile, and she does, too.
I turn away, deep into the dusk demesnes of night, ruminating about what type of doughnut that I should get. Should be there right around when the shop opens.
Glazed, lemon-filled? Or mocha, topped with delicious icing and wispy latte art?
It’ll be a pleasant dawn.
Deep into the dusk demesnes of night is a flickering ember of belief, of hope, of conviction, of progress, of self-fulfillment, of deconditioning, of removal, of gain.
The rotten scoundrels of the past do not matter as determined steps are taken in these shadows, nor do the heavenly expanses of future prophecies. What really matters is the now – the feeling of the now – not introspection but outward expression.
Everything is starting to make a little more sense, I think, as my feet carry my body into familiar settings.
This is Friday night. Picture it as a humid, nascently springtime milieu just a tad past 1:00 AM. Picture me as dressed in a well-fitting black tee (the type that is cut lower in the back than in the front), washed jeans, black suede sneakers with light blue accents, silver necklace, silver bracelet, black hairband. For all of my recent confusion, I at least have been upkeeping my workout regimen and the effects are popping a bit more now.
I find my way to at favorite bench, a fateful spot beautifully jettisoned circa a series of large apartment buildings predominantly housed by college students. If you don’t know how I game here, how I game here is this: I post-up at the bench with my phone as a prop, I wait for the sporadic passerby (typically a partygoer), attempt to induce an AI, then work to stop her, hook, immerse, and pull.
It’s the culmination of a school-year long study in Covid-time street nightgame. It’s not the most efficient, relatively-speaking, as I only receive maybe a few approach opportunities in a few hours. But I enjoy the plentiful bounty that may result, so I find that it’s well worthwhile.
So I’m here, doing the things that I do, practicing breathing exercises and making mental notes, when a cute brunette appears in the periphery. After a sprezzaturatic pre-opener, I stop her with intrigue bait and have her sit next to me, inquiring her thoughts on some relationship problem that my fake friend is having. She’s engaged and even begins to touch her knees to mine, but I never am able to ram past the ASD associated with bailing on a promised meet-up with a friend. I lose her in the end, but it was a solid start to the night.
Around thirty minutes pass before another passerby passes. Sigh, it happens. But all we need is one, so the move is to stay calm, focused, and ready.
The clatter of girlish footsteps, the symphony of female voice. Ah, there’s someone nearing. I’ve grown to anticipate the thrilling rush of this moment right before I take a small glance over my shoulder to deem her approach-worthy or let that one slide.
What we have here is a tall, sylphlike blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl with a phone to her ear. Her clothing is not reminiscent of the rompers, daisy dukes, or shiny black pants that seem to be en vogue here. Instead, she is dressed in a white tank – clearly with no bra – and a flowy yellow skirt. A chain of blue beads comprises her low-drooping necklace. The color is a perfect complement to the dyed-blue streak in her hair, which is further accented with a blue bow of the same color. And the look is garnished with a plaid neck scarf, gold hoop earrings, and glittering blue eye shadow.
Eccentric, eclectic, very different.
Looks-wise, she is not a stunner but across the HB borderline. I need to focus on embracing a tasty platter of sexual experiences, so once the HB designation is made, the approach must come.
The Approach and Pull
When I breathe and glance up from my phone, I am already met by her eye contact. Before I say anything, she says something, despite a phone being glued to her ear. Hi!
“Hey there. Wait… hold on… I need to ask you something. Are you the type of girl who can give good advice about relationships? Not for me… but for my friend Jada.”
She pauses in front of me and smiles. Her free hand motions towards her phone. I then make a playful gesture for her to hang up the phone. With a half-turn away and a “one moment” finger, I overhear her wrapping up the conversation. It takes a minute for her to do so. Meanwhile, I’m tapping at nothing on my phone.
Finally, HBBlueSparkle is about to end her call with perceivable annoyance. The final sounds before she abruptly hangs up are a juxtaposition of words and tone. She says it dismissively.
"Love you, Chris."
Then she quickly sits down next to me, asking what’s up.
HBBlueSparkle (sitting down): So what’s up?
Me: Well… do you know the feeling when your close friend breaks up with her boyfriend, and you just are trying to help her through it? That’s kind of like me right now.
HB: Oh my god, yeah.
Me: Okay, cool. So let me know if you think this is the right approach. I’m telling my friend Jada that what she needs to do now is just… let loose… relax… let herself go… get back out there. Because otherwise the regret of missed opportunities will stick with her forever… instead she should untangle herself, move on, and live in the NOW… does that make sense?
HB: It does, it does! You’re telling her exactly the right things.
Me: Exactly the right things… nice. You know, I’m really glad that I’m talking to you. I can already tell that you’re the type of compassionate women who always puts other people first.
HB: I am! I’m very spiritual, so that’s a big part of my life, trying to help others.
Me: Wow really… spirituality can be so pivotal in the stressful world that we live in… almost like an escape. You say that you use your spirituality to help others… if you could give an example of a recent time you graced someone with holy words, what would it be?
HB: It’s just all of the time! Even tonight. People get emotional and upset, and I do my best to help!
Me: That makes perfect sense. We live in such perturbed times with heavy, heavy pressures of things like school, work... and Covid... just weighing down on us like enormous boulders on our backs… and people need a way to be lifted up, right? So actually… YOU’RE like the ray of light in a sea of darkness, YOU’RE the special person who gives the free gift of kindness… YOU’RE the person who is the savior for those confused and mislead, guiding them to a brighter, more prosperous future in the name of God.
HB:
Me: Well… do you know the feeling when your close friend breaks up with her boyfriend, and you just are trying to help her through it? That’s kind of like me right now.
HB: Oh my god, yeah.
Me: Okay, cool. So let me know if you think this is the right approach. I’m telling my friend Jada that what she needs to do now is just… let loose… relax… let herself go… get back out there. Because otherwise the regret of missed opportunities will stick with her forever… instead she should untangle herself, move on, and live in the NOW… does that make sense?
HB: It does, it does! You’re telling her exactly the right things.
Me: Exactly the right things… nice. You know, I’m really glad that I’m talking to you. I can already tell that you’re the type of compassionate women who always puts other people first.
HB: I am! I’m very spiritual, so that’s a big part of my life, trying to help others.
Me: Wow really… spirituality can be so pivotal in the stressful world that we live in… almost like an escape. You say that you use your spirituality to help others… if you could give an example of a recent time you graced someone with holy words, what would it be?
HB: It’s just all of the time! Even tonight. People get emotional and upset, and I do my best to help!
Me: That makes perfect sense. We live in such perturbed times with heavy, heavy pressures of things like school, work... and Covid... just weighing down on us like enormous boulders on our backs… and people need a way to be lifted up, right? So actually… YOU’RE like the ray of light in a sea of darkness, YOU’RE the special person who gives the free gift of kindness… YOU’RE the person who is the savior for those confused and mislead, guiding them to a brighter, more prosperous future in the name of God.
HB:
But I let it hang as an open loop and let the conversation flow, given that she brought up her subject of passion.
From this point, the next five-to-ten minutes consist of an elicitation of not so much her spirituality but more so about selfless mentalities, and I also touch on SOTs of spontaneity and adventure. Eventually, it is revealed that she’s a local actress. A thespian partaking in local plays. She’s dropped out of school to pursue that full-time. It gives juicy content of role-playing and transformation that I decide put in the bag for later.
Instead, I ask her what she’s up to. Nothing, she says. The question is boomeranged to me. Thinking about winding down my night, maybe finding a way back to my place and making some music as that’s what I do to relax. Before I even make the invitation or leave it as an open-loop, I see a flash in her eyes.
The sense that I could have pulled already occurred earlier on, but I pushed myself for patience due to risk-aversion. Now, I know that she’ll accept.
I ask if she’d like to give her thoughts on some music, and she readily agrees. Neither of us have a car, and she doesn’t want to Uber. She insists on making the 25-minute walk to my place. Fine with me. We begin the walk. After bumping into me a couple of times, I just take her hand and hold it. Leading the way down the streets.
Here I draw for imaginative questions. Say she won the lottery, and money was no object… where would she go? Nepal. Okay, I completely get that… because you have the mountainous expanses, grassy green valleys, and puffy white clouds that give you a sense of secret remoteness and really allow yourself to escape and lose yourself because of how in touch you are with nature. So now say that she’s booked the flight, eagerly anticipated it for months, and now just stepped off the plane… what’s the first adventurous thing that she’d do?
It goes on like that. After a while, she says that she really needs to use the bathroom. Inquires if I know anywhere on the way – perhaps the gas station? I respond that the gas station doesn’t have bathrooms (no idea if that’s true), and the only spot that I know of is in some alleyway. It’s kind of dark and sketchy, though.
My ears hear a response that she’ll just wait until we get to my place.
For the rest of the walk, I encourage her to rhapsodize about what acting means to her. Like, it must be so freeing to become whoever you want to be. Not chained down by the self-imposed constraints that everyone else believes.
That’s what she likes about acting the most, apparently. Despite currently cast in some Shakespeare anthology, what she’s really focusing on is her YouTube and Tik Tok channels. I say that she’ll have to show me later.
Into my place, and I turn on my speaker and aromatherapy diffuser while she uses the bathroom. When she comes out, HBBlueSparkle sits on my adjacent futon instead of next to me on the bed. A framed picture catches her attention. Her hand curiously reaches for it, asking who the other person is. It’s my dad and me.
I stand up, gently take the picture from her, set it down, graze her fingertips with mine, and softly suggest that she’d be more comfortable sitting on my bed than that old and rugged futon. She giggles and comes with me to the bed.
Perhaps I could’ve talked about family, but I’d rather talk about music in this moment. I turn on the playlist and leave my own music for later if necessary. The topic for the next few minutes is about connecting with music, feeling it, removing yourself from this world into one of exciting kicks and electrifying snares… almost if you can feel the beat pulsating all the way up through your body.
She lays down now, murmuring something about being tired. I mirror this movement. For the next minute, I transition between strong eye contact and staring at the ceiling, working to build anticipation still. I know she’s ready for escalation, but I work it a few moments longer before I turn to lay on top of her with our lips touching.
The Sex
Kissing, caressing, whispering. All of that.
The shirt comes off easily. Yep, no bra. There’s a little resistance when I reach for the skirt not too long later, but I fractionate back upwards and then the rest of her clothes easily slide off.
My fingers work her pussy, and my tongue works her breasts. When she cums, she does do viscerally. Her face and neck became really, really red. She goes to the bathroom afterwards. When she gets back, I’m really gentle with her before getting inside in adapted missionary – condom on. I’m not as hard as I’d like, but it’s been better than in times previous. My body is quite tired and I’m not feeling much, so I just finish her off again with my fingers. She goes to the bathroom again.
Upon her return, I lightly press down on her shoulders.
I want you on your knees.
She’s enthusiastic about doing so. Her blowjob is okay at first, but she works hard at trying to find the right spots and technique, so it turns out to be very, very nice. It was also highly enjoyable to play with the bow in her hair – definitely something to reflect happily on.
After some time of lightly tugging on her hair and periodically making sure that she looks up at me, I cum, and she swallows. I welcome her back up onto the bed and make sure to be very exploratorily affectionate. Cuddling and deep-diving. This will be a ONS, but I want to, ahem, put the ribbon on a nice experience.
We discuss favorite movies and memories. Family and future. I practice more elicitation and a little time warping so I can get the feel of it for another time. Her movements and overall actions have become extremely slow and deliberate now. Dramatic whisks of her willowy arms.
Looking around the bed, my eyes catch the shimmer of small particles. On my body, and on hers, too. From her glittering eyeshadow, or glitter and glittering eyeshadow. I can’t tell, exactly.
Blue sparkles everywhere.
Post-Lay
It’s around 4:30 AM when the idea of going home is mentioned. I’m fine with it because both of us are very tired and not really able to fall asleep. She’s a 45-minute walk away from her place, so I offer an Uber. But she insists on walking again. Her home is not the fancy, hotel-like extravaganzas of some other girls, and I don't want her to walk there alone at this hour. We both enjoy walking and each other's company, so I just make the walk back with her. This makes her very happy.
HBBlueSparkle reveals how she broke up with her boyfriend yesterday. That was Chris. It had to be something like that. Either cheating, an orbiter, or a breakup, from the way she handled that phone call. Somewhat ironic considering the gambit...
I finally see some of her YouTube and Tik Tok videos. They are quite quirky just like her - a source of pride. She inquires my age, so I find out her age. 22. I just tell her that for clear satisfaction.
Her dad is a pastor. Moved the family all around the country in her childhood. Had some tension there, and she has slightly different beliefs now. There are some red flags with this girl, but we’ve had a nice time and it’s all good.
We finally reach her dilapidated complex. I say it’s homey and reminds me of a strong community. She agrees.
A final make-out as I feel up her body, and an emphatic validation about how she’s a great kisser. And a quick word of best wishes. It’s received nicely.
The look in her eyes say that she’s probably expecting a number close, but I just smile, and she does, too.
I turn away, deep into the dusk demesnes of night, ruminating about what type of doughnut that I should get. Should be there right around when the shop opens.
Glazed, lemon-filled? Or mocha, topped with delicious icing and wispy latte art?
It’ll be a pleasant dawn.
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