- Joined
- Jan 1, 2020
- Messages
- 745
As posted in the twat tournament thread, after spending 3 hours and 45 minutes in the same train carriage (and one or two rows of seats away from) this cute hot young stylish brunette, I found a smooth indirect way to open her upon arrival at our destination station (while she and the girl she was traveling with were standing in the corridor in between the seats waiting to get out of the carriage, I busted on her for listening to rave music so loud on her headphones that the entire train carriage could hear it at one point).
The long train ride had given us ample time to observe each other. And I took a gamble that, like me, she had liked what she saw, even though I don't think I'd ever caught her looking at me, and at one point I thought to myself that maybe I was looking at her too much. It probably helped that I was socially proofed, sitting with two bros.
Now while she had seemed super enthusiastic when the number close occurred, after literally 5 minutes of verbal interaction, if not less, adding her number onto my phone herself, saying “call me,” and then “see you soon,” before leaving, after responding to ice breaker text on WhatsApp, she went radio silent when I sent a throwback text to continue chatting.
I accepted that her emotional state could have changed and made a mental note to make girls invest more and to in general attempt to execute longer interactions before number-closing in the future and removed her from my mind. This wasn’t so hard to do as I was spinning another plate, that I intend to close soon as well.
And then, four days later, she responded. She agreed with my text and asked me what I had been up to that week. I gave it two days to respond, and then when she answered I texted her straightaway so that we could have a chat. And it worked. I ended that chat with a soft close.
Again, only two days later did I notice that she’d hearted my soft close. So I shot her a hard close. She agreed enthusiastically, proposing two days.
We met last night – she had to delay her arrival by 1 hour and 15 minutes, but I just took the fact that she was making a time-consuming journey to get there to be a sign that she was invested – at a bar a few minutes’ walk from my studio.
The first thing she asked me after I kissed her on each cheek and we entered the bar together was “How old are you?”
Now I will be leaving the city I’m living in in a few months, and I’d already lost a cute hot Russian babe a few weeks ago among other “reasons” because “of our age gap,” so I thought what’s the harm if I give her a white lie? I don’t normally lie to girls, ever. But I find age to be such an irrelevant topic, and one that has been so sullied by the current feminist wave in the West, which applauds grannies taking young men as their lovers but vilifies the reverse due to “power imbalance,” that I told her what she wanted to hear instead of the truth.
I said I was 29 (I’m 36) because I knew first that she was still studying as an undergraduate so probably still in her early twenties, and second because if it was the first thing she said to me then it must be a make it or break it social frame issue for her. I asked her how old she was, and she said 22.
I took a beer even though normally I don’t drink alcohol because I didn’t want to create any complications. I wanted her to have an experience that was as smooth as possible.
Upstairs, we sat at a table. There was live music playing on the lower floor, and our floor was packed with other couples and there was a cozy, warm vibe.
We stayed in the bar for approximately 1 hour and 15 minutes. Very soon into our interaction I complimented her little stylish button-down jumper and used this opportunity to touch her hands and neck to inspect her rings and necklace.
I focused on connecting with her, giving her strong EC (which I had to break at points when I was gathering my thoughts to respond to her, but in the first few minutes of the date it was electric as I didn’t take my eyes off hers), kino (not overdone – at first just our legs touching intermittently, then I felt her bicep and leg when she said she used to do a lot of sport), talking about how I like traveling by myself because then you are more open and free to meet people and “sometimes you meet someone and it’s ok, but sometimes you meet someone and you have this strong connection straightaway” (light BF disqualifier, insinuating that I like to travel to fuck strangers), and in general always trying to answer her questions as briefly as possible and reroute them back to her. Telling her that I "did a lot of shit" in high school also gave off slight bad-boy vibes, which I suppose disqualified me further.
Sandwiched in the middle of the date I seeded the pull.
Then I just picked up the thread, and off we went.
Back at home, it was smooth sailing.
After I had thrown her on the bed, when almost all our clothes had already come off, she still timidly tried to resist by saying something about her period, but I suggested we take a towel and just proceeded as normal. Then the most adorable thing happened, she was inching away from my manhood as if it was too big for her. I just told her to calm down, gave her lots of encouragement, kisses, and comfort, kept fingering her, and at about the third try I was in pussy city.
Traumatized as I was from having had the Russian also use as a justification for ending things that “I don’t seem to care whether she cums or not,” this time, though I did jizz about 10 or 15 minutes into the first bang (choking, rough, interspersed with softness), I went and got the pocket rocket and put it on her clit, and then after a while she suggested we take a pause because she preferred me to the device (but must have realized a pause was then necessary).
We were back at it after a while and this time she was the one to say she “couldn’t take it anymore,” and I insisted, “But I want you to cum,” to which she later said I was “crazy.” (I think, TBF, that this was a lost in translation moment – her English isn’t very good and neither is my grasp of her native language).
Anyway, I'm following the texting protocols and will endeavor to get her out twice more and then lock her in. She has two tats and says she smokes weed every day and takes drugs sometimes, so this could never be more than a FB, even if the chick is super cool.
The long train ride had given us ample time to observe each other. And I took a gamble that, like me, she had liked what she saw, even though I don't think I'd ever caught her looking at me, and at one point I thought to myself that maybe I was looking at her too much. It probably helped that I was socially proofed, sitting with two bros.
Now while she had seemed super enthusiastic when the number close occurred, after literally 5 minutes of verbal interaction, if not less, adding her number onto my phone herself, saying “call me,” and then “see you soon,” before leaving, after responding to ice breaker text on WhatsApp, she went radio silent when I sent a throwback text to continue chatting.
I accepted that her emotional state could have changed and made a mental note to make girls invest more and to in general attempt to execute longer interactions before number-closing in the future and removed her from my mind. This wasn’t so hard to do as I was spinning another plate, that I intend to close soon as well.
And then, four days later, she responded. She agreed with my text and asked me what I had been up to that week. I gave it two days to respond, and then when she answered I texted her straightaway so that we could have a chat. And it worked. I ended that chat with a soft close.
Again, only two days later did I notice that she’d hearted my soft close. So I shot her a hard close. She agreed enthusiastically, proposing two days.
We met last night – she had to delay her arrival by 1 hour and 15 minutes, but I just took the fact that she was making a time-consuming journey to get there to be a sign that she was invested – at a bar a few minutes’ walk from my studio.
The first thing she asked me after I kissed her on each cheek and we entered the bar together was “How old are you?”
Now I will be leaving the city I’m living in in a few months, and I’d already lost a cute hot Russian babe a few weeks ago among other “reasons” because “of our age gap,” so I thought what’s the harm if I give her a white lie? I don’t normally lie to girls, ever. But I find age to be such an irrelevant topic, and one that has been so sullied by the current feminist wave in the West, which applauds grannies taking young men as their lovers but vilifies the reverse due to “power imbalance,” that I told her what she wanted to hear instead of the truth.
I said I was 29 (I’m 36) because I knew first that she was still studying as an undergraduate so probably still in her early twenties, and second because if it was the first thing she said to me then it must be a make it or break it social frame issue for her. I asked her how old she was, and she said 22.
I took a beer even though normally I don’t drink alcohol because I didn’t want to create any complications. I wanted her to have an experience that was as smooth as possible.
Upstairs, we sat at a table. There was live music playing on the lower floor, and our floor was packed with other couples and there was a cozy, warm vibe.
We stayed in the bar for approximately 1 hour and 15 minutes. Very soon into our interaction I complimented her little stylish button-down jumper and used this opportunity to touch her hands and neck to inspect her rings and necklace.
I focused on connecting with her, giving her strong EC (which I had to break at points when I was gathering my thoughts to respond to her, but in the first few minutes of the date it was electric as I didn’t take my eyes off hers), kino (not overdone – at first just our legs touching intermittently, then I felt her bicep and leg when she said she used to do a lot of sport), talking about how I like traveling by myself because then you are more open and free to meet people and “sometimes you meet someone and it’s ok, but sometimes you meet someone and you have this strong connection straightaway” (light BF disqualifier, insinuating that I like to travel to fuck strangers), and in general always trying to answer her questions as briefly as possible and reroute them back to her. Telling her that I "did a lot of shit" in high school also gave off slight bad-boy vibes, which I suppose disqualified me further.
Sandwiched in the middle of the date I seeded the pull.
Then I just picked up the thread, and off we went.
Back at home, it was smooth sailing.
After I had thrown her on the bed, when almost all our clothes had already come off, she still timidly tried to resist by saying something about her period, but I suggested we take a towel and just proceeded as normal. Then the most adorable thing happened, she was inching away from my manhood as if it was too big for her. I just told her to calm down, gave her lots of encouragement, kisses, and comfort, kept fingering her, and at about the third try I was in pussy city.
Traumatized as I was from having had the Russian also use as a justification for ending things that “I don’t seem to care whether she cums or not,” this time, though I did jizz about 10 or 15 minutes into the first bang (choking, rough, interspersed with softness), I went and got the pocket rocket and put it on her clit, and then after a while she suggested we take a pause because she preferred me to the device (but must have realized a pause was then necessary).
We were back at it after a while and this time she was the one to say she “couldn’t take it anymore,” and I insisted, “But I want you to cum,” to which she later said I was “crazy.” (I think, TBF, that this was a lost in translation moment – her English isn’t very good and neither is my grasp of her native language).
Anyway, I'm following the texting protocols and will endeavor to get her out twice more and then lock her in. She has two tats and says she smokes weed every day and takes drugs sometimes, so this could never be more than a FB, even if the chick is super cool.
