- Joined
- Dec 18, 2013
- Messages
- 211
Greetings gentlemen!
I am proud to say that I am back out on the meat market now, hitting night game at least twice a week and approaching girls regularly whenever I happen to be out. New numbers are re-accumulating in my phone again, and with some new and improved pictures, I'm chatting up a lot of POF girls too (not going for internet dates yet—hands are full enough as it is, lol). As some already know, I recently terminated a one-year relationship for a multitude of reasons, the two most critical being irreconcilable career goals and monogamy. It wasn't all bad: I gained a massive amount of necessary sexual experience with her as we generally fucked three to four times per week for twelve months. I think did my best to be a good boyfriend with consistent emotional support and powerful sex (she told me I was the best sex she ever had—thank's to Chase and Ricardus's articles), but eventually she drained me too much emotionally and expected too much of my time. My social world outside the relationship was fading into oblivion, and I knew I could not reset all the bad precedent that had been in place for too long—demolition was the only option.
Here is my first lay since the breakup, and I've done my best to break it down into discreet categories of interactions. I ended up employing a date compression strategy, where the first night we randomly met was 'date' number one, and the second two 'dates' were a coffee meet-up followed by meeting her with her friends later that same evening just before sex.
Lust at First Sight:
One week ago, I was doing the usual Saturday night run at my favorite salsa dance bar (about eight minutes walk from my apartment). It's January and fucking cold up north, so logistics aren't exactly great for pulling a girl back to my place on foot, save for calling a cab (I have no car), which sometimes gets delayed to the point of flushing my escalation down the toilet).
I'm sitting at the bar alone in my orchestra concert attire (midnight black, slim cut suit with royal oxford dress shirt with french cuffs, complete with faux diamond cuff links and tie bar). With the exception that I'm ten years younger and have much longer hair, this about sums up my look:
I love playing James Bond dress up, and since it actually relates to what I do, it's a great conversation starter for me. As I sit with my calm, collected alpha pose, sipping my vodka martini with a large, thin slice of lemon peal, this beautiful Danish blonde (who I swear bears the most striking resemblance to Heidi Klum, so from here on, I will refer to her as Heidi) who is sitting three or so bar stools down from me (with no one in between) smiles coyly and gives me a come hither.
Slowly, I push out my stool and make my way next to her, keeping myself in slow motion, and I give her my sly smile:
In conversation, she does most of the engaging: even when topics fall flat on the floor, she is quick to re-engage and get us connected again. I learn that she has only been in the states (and my city) for two months—her first visit to this bar, in fact. I tell her I am a violinist with X orchestra, and it turns out she went to one of our concerts just days earlier and really loved it! On top of that, she already has her next ticket for our tango concert in a week. My job/career would end up doing most of the work for me with this girl, along with my "handsome, beautiful looks..." her words: whatever, I'll take it!
She herself is a neurological scientist with her PhD and now works in the university medical lab here in town—dam, I just love a hot career woman! Within about five minutes, she is leaning her shoulder hard into mine, so I take that window to touch her elbow and lower arm. Very soon, we're onto touchy feelies with our hands, so finally I pull her in for a make-out right there at the bar. It's a very small venue (maybe twice the size of my studio apartment) and totally packed. I know that making out is generally a bad idea for bringing a girl home, but it just felt like the thing I wanted to do with her for three reasons: A) I wanted public validation, B) reward for her obvious, strong attraction to me, and C) in the past, many women have thought I was gay because they said I look so well dressed for a man of this city, and I apparently have a 'pretty face'... my first kiss radically changed all their minds: I wanted no mistake in this girl's mind from the beginning!
Side note on my kissing strategy:
When Mr. Bond wants to kiss a woman, he just does it—to hell with the rules. If the kiss is good enough, she'll want more (my theory anyway). I seem to have a way of kissing a girl that has this effect, so this may be a rule I can break—not entirely sure—still carving my own personal routine. Let me try to express the way I go about it: the kiss should be slow and include gentle but confident touch of her upper to lower arms, then lower torso, and then thighs, moving on to her lower back and then back up to her shoulders. Don't go for any private areas yet—too fast and you spoil the escalation. Avoid tonguing much, and don't let her get in too deep if she tries. Focus your tongue on her lips as if they were her labia (this will make her curious about receiving oral sex from you). You should express subtle amounts of the brimming intensity in your own heart, communicating with resolute certainty that you already consider her to be yours, making her weak in the knees, and leaving her craving all that passion in her loins.
We went back to talking a little, and she straight away bought both of us dirty martinis. She said she gets the impression that I have a dirty mind. I told her that I love dirty girls. She kissed me again. Then, she told me how sexy she thinks it is that I play violin in the orchestra while grabbing a napkin, writing down her number on it, and sliding it over to me. I think Europeans look at classical music more romantically than most American girls—usually, a girl just thinks "wow, that's impressive" and then their attention goes elsewhere.
Soon I realized she was there with her four ethnically diverse female friends (another Dane, Portuguese, French, and Russian) whom I would meet again one week later on the night of the lay. They needed to leave yet eagerly left her alone with me...shit, I LOVE sexually liberated cultures!!!
As our touchy feelies seemed to be reaching a good hight, I suggested she come back to my place to play some violin for her. She goes into the anti-slut excuse of having to let her dog out...which, moments later she comes clean on, telling me that her dog is fine but that she just doesn't go home with guys on a first meet. Since I understand where her objection is coming from but still know she is super into me, I sit back, play cool, and tell her that it's all good (using my same Daniel Craig-inspired smirk, shown above). Then, I leaned in to her, my mouth to her ear, and told her with my deepest, most sultry voice what a loss it would be for her. She turns her face and kisses me again... (later on she will tell me how much she loves kissing me, lol).
Because I was truly uncertain of my skill to get her home that night, I decided to just go for the raunchiest make-out of my life: I moved her over to the wall across from the bar and pushed her up against it, getting my hands all over her body as we shoved tongues down each others' throats. Now she was really moaning and bending at the knees in horny abandon. Random fat chicks even purposefully bump into us, which I found hilarious! At one point where we paused for air, she told me that I'm sexiest man she has ever met in [my city]. That made me feel pretty fucking awesome—guess I'm a validation whore too, lol. I suggested again that we go back to my place, and she asked me if I have to do anything the next day... ("holy shit I'm in," I'm thinking)... unfortunately, I do actually have a Sunday morning job, and to avoid getting into another lying routine, I mentioned that fact, to which her emotional state seemed to sag.
Fuck. My. Life.
Eventually, her cab arrived, and we both got in it together (she offered to take us each home and paid).
Side note: Everyone at the bar assumed we were going home together, which I thought was cool—I legitimately want the player reputation. In fact, the next night, I received this cake at my door—preceded by a loud knock at 11:30 pm with the culprit sprinting down the hallway, never to have been in my sight:
As the cab made it's way to my place, I coyly rejected making out with her any further, and as it stopped at my place first, I offered her one last chance to come with me. She said that she just can't, but "you have my number, so I hope I hear from you
" I smiled silently to her while opening the door—I can walk away from anything. I will just have to persist over more time.
Week of Texting:
I have put myself in a somewhat strange rut lately where if I failed to get a girl home with me on the first meet, I would just cut contact unless she texted me. It then occurred to me that of the previous two women I have slept with, I did actually crawl through multiple dates before sleeping with them, and so as a beginner, it is probably necessary to jump through those extra hoops as part of the early learning curve. So, I decided to shoot her a text around 5pm the next day:
Pre-Concert Coffee Date:
When we met up at X Coffee, she received me very warmly, and we exchanged several cute kisses right outside the door. I felt like Mr. Bond with his Euro Bond girl, and this rush of suave confidence suddenly washed over me. As I lead her inside with my arm at the small of her back, she asked what I like to drink, and I told her blah blah as I took lead and moved my hand from her back to take her hand, while she gladly took hold of mine right back, and I lead her single file through the line. I thought about asking her to pay, but then I thought to myself, "hell, I know this girl wants me, and I just love this Bond role play that seems to be working so well, so again, rules be damned, I'm just going to do the smoothest order of drinks as if we were filming a movie." Even the male cashier responded warmly to my gentlemanly command. We made some idle chat, and when our cappuccinos were ready, I grabbed both of them and told her to come upstairs with me, isolating and putting us in a location where the heat gets ridiculously high (definitely around 80 degrees). As soon as we sat at a table for two, she took my hand and we had some good conversation in which I made a strong point of expressing my open minded acceptance of female sexuality... long story short: my original plan was to go for a pull to my place before the concert, but I come to find out she only has an hour before needing to leave and drive her friend somewhere. No biggie—I'll let her get all hot and bothered from the tango and go from there, haha! She made a comment about it being so hot that she might have to take her clothes off. I tell her that we'll have plenty of opportunity to do that soon. She blushes. We part ways after an hour of chatting, kissing, and holding hands.
Post-Concert Meet-up:
After the concert, I met up with her and all the same friends from a week earlier in the concert hall lobby. The Portuguese girl, who is a pediatric physician at the university medical center, invited us to go out for drinks or to her place for wine. [Heidi Klum] hesitantly tells me it's ok if we don't go with them—we can just go on by ourselves if I want... whoa, am I so in or what?! I look back at her and say, "let's go have a drink—I'd love to meet your friends!" We do just that. Back at the Portuguese girl's loft, they have several bottles of wine and fine European cheeses. Since I feel quite certain of a lay happening tonight, I want to milk the social prospects first. That, and her Portuguese friend is quite hot and turns out she loves Philharmonics series concerts (the meet and potatoes of what we play—the great classics). I end up flirting with her quite a bit, but I always return periodically to the pillow on the floor next to my Heidi, during which times she has her hand on my ass and even down the back of my pants. I return the favor, all while chatting harmlessly. As the get-together drew to a close, Heidi asks me if it's ok that we go back to her place, and I tell her that it's all good. She asks me repeatedly when I want to leave, and I realize that I am coming close to shooting myself in the foot, so I call it quits on social hour and we say our goodbyes.
LMR @ Her Place:
*Note:I used to be quite a good writer back in high school and college, but it's been so long that I'm afraid my dialogue grammar has gone to shit—will do my best
I'm actually beginning to enjoy this whole LMR thing—a chance to expertly convince a girl to want my cock. Once her female lust switch flipped to 'on,' she treated me like a beast, begging me to fuck her deeper and harder—it was awesome! Here's how it more or less went down:
She offered me another drink (at which point, I was growing concerned of alcohol penis). I accepted a cider, but barely took a sip. I began to physically escalate in her kitchen, hands squarely on her breasts over her clothing this time, and to my surprise, she stops me and says, "easy." She invites me over to the living room couch (it's a two bedroom apartment, and the French girl is her roommate). She reminds me that I had offered to play my violin for her before, so I take it out and play a short, slow tune that's very romantic and luscious. She stands up listening and tells me that it's so beautiful. I let her hold my violin and show her a little how to do it. After a little of that, I put it away and resume kissing her again, my hands running along her legs, and she says the same thing while stopping me again, "easy." So, I just sit back and smile slyly at her, to which she says,
"What? Sooo... you just wanna fuck?" I thought to myself, "honesty, honesty, honesty..." In my deepest, most sultry voice, I tell her,
"I would be lying to you if I said that wasn't on the top of my priorities. I'd like to take things one step at a time and see where they lead. Right now, I really like you, and I want you." Then, I get the best compliment a woman has ever given me,
"I think you're really a bad boy in disguise. I could tell when I first met you that you were a tiger..." Then the LMR collapses... "Maybe we should move into the bedroom"? she asks, to which I reply while taking her hand,
"I think that would be a good idea."
The Lay:
From there, I laid down on her bed first while she went to brush her teeth. When she came in, she pounced on top of me, and I grabbed her thighs. She was lusty as all hell, and I pulled her in to kiss my while grabbing her breasts from the outside and giving them a firm squeeze: they're huge! I get her shirt off and just enjoy sucking her giant tits with the bra still on while reaching back to unhook it hastily. Once her beautiful melons are bare in my face, I roll her over, expecting to go down on her and warm her up with some oral...nope. Instead, she's grabbing my pants, expertly undoing my belt and trousers until she has one hand around my shaft while the other is removing her own pants. This girl wants to get fucked! Oddly, she then asks me,
"Isn't this breaking American rules of dating?" I told her,
"We had three dates: X bar and lounge, X Coffee, and the tango concert," to which she replied,
"You're a slick devil."
Before I can even grab a condom, she is guiding my dick into her pussy, and I'm thinking, "awe fuck it, just go with the flow and sort the rest out later...this feels too good to interrupt." So, now I'm raw dogging her while she moans for me to fuck her deep and hard. After ten or so thrusts, I come to my senses and realize I better grab a condom.
Long story short: I finished in her twice that night, slept over, and took her again in the morning. She's very quiet (for her roommate's sake) but tells me it was amazing. Each time I would go to warm her up for another round with some fingering, she quickly grabbed my cock to fuck her again. As we laid in bed together, she kept telling me what a beautiful man I was, running her hand up and down my now well-defined abs. She asked me if I was married, had a girlfriend, or a boyfriend... lol, um I said, "even I have my limits." I told her I don't do girlfriends, to which she had a sad face for a moment.
The Aftermath:
Monday afternoon, I get this text.
So, there you have it, gentlemen. Looks like I just got a new fuck buddy. Hope you all enjoyed reading!
Cheers!
-M
I am proud to say that I am back out on the meat market now, hitting night game at least twice a week and approaching girls regularly whenever I happen to be out. New numbers are re-accumulating in my phone again, and with some new and improved pictures, I'm chatting up a lot of POF girls too (not going for internet dates yet—hands are full enough as it is, lol). As some already know, I recently terminated a one-year relationship for a multitude of reasons, the two most critical being irreconcilable career goals and monogamy. It wasn't all bad: I gained a massive amount of necessary sexual experience with her as we generally fucked three to four times per week for twelve months. I think did my best to be a good boyfriend with consistent emotional support and powerful sex (she told me I was the best sex she ever had—thank's to Chase and Ricardus's articles), but eventually she drained me too much emotionally and expected too much of my time. My social world outside the relationship was fading into oblivion, and I knew I could not reset all the bad precedent that had been in place for too long—demolition was the only option.
Here is my first lay since the breakup, and I've done my best to break it down into discreet categories of interactions. I ended up employing a date compression strategy, where the first night we randomly met was 'date' number one, and the second two 'dates' were a coffee meet-up followed by meeting her with her friends later that same evening just before sex.
Lust at First Sight:
One week ago, I was doing the usual Saturday night run at my favorite salsa dance bar (about eight minutes walk from my apartment). It's January and fucking cold up north, so logistics aren't exactly great for pulling a girl back to my place on foot, save for calling a cab (I have no car), which sometimes gets delayed to the point of flushing my escalation down the toilet).
I'm sitting at the bar alone in my orchestra concert attire (midnight black, slim cut suit with royal oxford dress shirt with french cuffs, complete with faux diamond cuff links and tie bar). With the exception that I'm ten years younger and have much longer hair, this about sums up my look:
I love playing James Bond dress up, and since it actually relates to what I do, it's a great conversation starter for me. As I sit with my calm, collected alpha pose, sipping my vodka martini with a large, thin slice of lemon peal, this beautiful Danish blonde (who I swear bears the most striking resemblance to Heidi Klum, so from here on, I will refer to her as Heidi) who is sitting three or so bar stools down from me (with no one in between) smiles coyly and gives me a come hither.
Slowly, I push out my stool and make my way next to her, keeping myself in slow motion, and I give her my sly smile:
In conversation, she does most of the engaging: even when topics fall flat on the floor, she is quick to re-engage and get us connected again. I learn that she has only been in the states (and my city) for two months—her first visit to this bar, in fact. I tell her I am a violinist with X orchestra, and it turns out she went to one of our concerts just days earlier and really loved it! On top of that, she already has her next ticket for our tango concert in a week. My job/career would end up doing most of the work for me with this girl, along with my "handsome, beautiful looks..." her words: whatever, I'll take it!
She herself is a neurological scientist with her PhD and now works in the university medical lab here in town—dam, I just love a hot career woman! Within about five minutes, she is leaning her shoulder hard into mine, so I take that window to touch her elbow and lower arm. Very soon, we're onto touchy feelies with our hands, so finally I pull her in for a make-out right there at the bar. It's a very small venue (maybe twice the size of my studio apartment) and totally packed. I know that making out is generally a bad idea for bringing a girl home, but it just felt like the thing I wanted to do with her for three reasons: A) I wanted public validation, B) reward for her obvious, strong attraction to me, and C) in the past, many women have thought I was gay because they said I look so well dressed for a man of this city, and I apparently have a 'pretty face'... my first kiss radically changed all their minds: I wanted no mistake in this girl's mind from the beginning!
Side note on my kissing strategy:
When Mr. Bond wants to kiss a woman, he just does it—to hell with the rules. If the kiss is good enough, she'll want more (my theory anyway). I seem to have a way of kissing a girl that has this effect, so this may be a rule I can break—not entirely sure—still carving my own personal routine. Let me try to express the way I go about it: the kiss should be slow and include gentle but confident touch of her upper to lower arms, then lower torso, and then thighs, moving on to her lower back and then back up to her shoulders. Don't go for any private areas yet—too fast and you spoil the escalation. Avoid tonguing much, and don't let her get in too deep if she tries. Focus your tongue on her lips as if they were her labia (this will make her curious about receiving oral sex from you). You should express subtle amounts of the brimming intensity in your own heart, communicating with resolute certainty that you already consider her to be yours, making her weak in the knees, and leaving her craving all that passion in her loins.
We went back to talking a little, and she straight away bought both of us dirty martinis. She said she gets the impression that I have a dirty mind. I told her that I love dirty girls. She kissed me again. Then, she told me how sexy she thinks it is that I play violin in the orchestra while grabbing a napkin, writing down her number on it, and sliding it over to me. I think Europeans look at classical music more romantically than most American girls—usually, a girl just thinks "wow, that's impressive" and then their attention goes elsewhere.
Soon I realized she was there with her four ethnically diverse female friends (another Dane, Portuguese, French, and Russian) whom I would meet again one week later on the night of the lay. They needed to leave yet eagerly left her alone with me...shit, I LOVE sexually liberated cultures!!!
As our touchy feelies seemed to be reaching a good hight, I suggested she come back to my place to play some violin for her. She goes into the anti-slut excuse of having to let her dog out...which, moments later she comes clean on, telling me that her dog is fine but that she just doesn't go home with guys on a first meet. Since I understand where her objection is coming from but still know she is super into me, I sit back, play cool, and tell her that it's all good (using my same Daniel Craig-inspired smirk, shown above). Then, I leaned in to her, my mouth to her ear, and told her with my deepest, most sultry voice what a loss it would be for her. She turns her face and kisses me again... (later on she will tell me how much she loves kissing me, lol).
Because I was truly uncertain of my skill to get her home that night, I decided to just go for the raunchiest make-out of my life: I moved her over to the wall across from the bar and pushed her up against it, getting my hands all over her body as we shoved tongues down each others' throats. Now she was really moaning and bending at the knees in horny abandon. Random fat chicks even purposefully bump into us, which I found hilarious! At one point where we paused for air, she told me that I'm sexiest man she has ever met in [my city]. That made me feel pretty fucking awesome—guess I'm a validation whore too, lol. I suggested again that we go back to my place, and she asked me if I have to do anything the next day... ("holy shit I'm in," I'm thinking)... unfortunately, I do actually have a Sunday morning job, and to avoid getting into another lying routine, I mentioned that fact, to which her emotional state seemed to sag.
Fuck. My. Life.
Eventually, her cab arrived, and we both got in it together (she offered to take us each home and paid).
Side note: Everyone at the bar assumed we were going home together, which I thought was cool—I legitimately want the player reputation. In fact, the next night, I received this cake at my door—preceded by a loud knock at 11:30 pm with the culprit sprinting down the hallway, never to have been in my sight:
As the cab made it's way to my place, I coyly rejected making out with her any further, and as it stopped at my place first, I offered her one last chance to come with me. She said that she just can't, but "you have my number, so I hope I hear from you
" I smiled silently to her while opening the door—I can walk away from anything. I will just have to persist over more time.Week of Texting:
I have put myself in a somewhat strange rut lately where if I failed to get a girl home with me on the first meet, I would just cut contact unless she texted me. It then occurred to me that of the previous two women I have slept with, I did actually crawl through multiple dates before sleeping with them, and so as a beginner, it is probably necessary to jump through those extra hoops as part of the early learning curve. So, I decided to shoot her a text around 5pm the next day:
*Next, I wait a while on purpose, avoiding actually tapping in to read the message for hours. I like women to know when I have and have not 'read' their messages, so I can play around with different angles of communicating my busyness.*
*we have Friday and Saturday performances*
*legit typo on my part, lol*8:31 pm Her: Hey [me]! I'm doing good, busy at work ;-) Glad to hear you are enjoying the practice! I'm going to the tango on Saturday. Will be quite a treat with such a talented violinist plus good dancers at the performance ;-)
11:34 pm Me: There will be quite the treat for you Saturday night... sweet dreams [smiley kiss]
*Wednesday morning*
11:52 am Her: Sounds exciting [wink] Hope you have a great day [wink]
*Thursday night*
12:41 pm Her: How is your day? Would you be interested in going for coffee or a drink some time?
*Friday night*
Note: I intentionally let 72 hours pass with no communication from me: my effort to build attraction through scarcity, and I had legit reasoning, for which she is made aware...
11:26 pm Me: Hey there
12:24 am Her: Hey
*Saturday morning*
10:25 am Me: Morgen! How about we meet at X Coffee when you're done—text me
12:01 pm Her: Morning
2:03 pm Her: Hey, I am about to leave work, can be ready in 1.5-2hrs. Does that fit you?
2:04 pm Me: That works perfect
2:05 pm Her: Great! you live close by the coffee place, right? I can text you when I am about to leave home? I have around 10 min drive to there...
2:06 pm Me: I do love very close by [wink]
Pre-Concert Coffee Date:
When we met up at X Coffee, she received me very warmly, and we exchanged several cute kisses right outside the door. I felt like Mr. Bond with his Euro Bond girl, and this rush of suave confidence suddenly washed over me. As I lead her inside with my arm at the small of her back, she asked what I like to drink, and I told her blah blah as I took lead and moved my hand from her back to take her hand, while she gladly took hold of mine right back, and I lead her single file through the line. I thought about asking her to pay, but then I thought to myself, "hell, I know this girl wants me, and I just love this Bond role play that seems to be working so well, so again, rules be damned, I'm just going to do the smoothest order of drinks as if we were filming a movie." Even the male cashier responded warmly to my gentlemanly command. We made some idle chat, and when our cappuccinos were ready, I grabbed both of them and told her to come upstairs with me, isolating and putting us in a location where the heat gets ridiculously high (definitely around 80 degrees). As soon as we sat at a table for two, she took my hand and we had some good conversation in which I made a strong point of expressing my open minded acceptance of female sexuality... long story short: my original plan was to go for a pull to my place before the concert, but I come to find out she only has an hour before needing to leave and drive her friend somewhere. No biggie—I'll let her get all hot and bothered from the tango and go from there, haha! She made a comment about it being so hot that she might have to take her clothes off. I tell her that we'll have plenty of opportunity to do that soon. She blushes. We part ways after an hour of chatting, kissing, and holding hands.
Post-Concert Meet-up:
After the concert, I met up with her and all the same friends from a week earlier in the concert hall lobby. The Portuguese girl, who is a pediatric physician at the university medical center, invited us to go out for drinks or to her place for wine. [Heidi Klum] hesitantly tells me it's ok if we don't go with them—we can just go on by ourselves if I want... whoa, am I so in or what?! I look back at her and say, "let's go have a drink—I'd love to meet your friends!" We do just that. Back at the Portuguese girl's loft, they have several bottles of wine and fine European cheeses. Since I feel quite certain of a lay happening tonight, I want to milk the social prospects first. That, and her Portuguese friend is quite hot and turns out she loves Philharmonics series concerts (the meet and potatoes of what we play—the great classics). I end up flirting with her quite a bit, but I always return periodically to the pillow on the floor next to my Heidi, during which times she has her hand on my ass and even down the back of my pants. I return the favor, all while chatting harmlessly. As the get-together drew to a close, Heidi asks me if it's ok that we go back to her place, and I tell her that it's all good. She asks me repeatedly when I want to leave, and I realize that I am coming close to shooting myself in the foot, so I call it quits on social hour and we say our goodbyes.
LMR @ Her Place:
*Note:I used to be quite a good writer back in high school and college, but it's been so long that I'm afraid my dialogue grammar has gone to shit—will do my best
I'm actually beginning to enjoy this whole LMR thing—a chance to expertly convince a girl to want my cock. Once her female lust switch flipped to 'on,' she treated me like a beast, begging me to fuck her deeper and harder—it was awesome! Here's how it more or less went down:
She offered me another drink (at which point, I was growing concerned of alcohol penis). I accepted a cider, but barely took a sip. I began to physically escalate in her kitchen, hands squarely on her breasts over her clothing this time, and to my surprise, she stops me and says, "easy." She invites me over to the living room couch (it's a two bedroom apartment, and the French girl is her roommate). She reminds me that I had offered to play my violin for her before, so I take it out and play a short, slow tune that's very romantic and luscious. She stands up listening and tells me that it's so beautiful. I let her hold my violin and show her a little how to do it. After a little of that, I put it away and resume kissing her again, my hands running along her legs, and she says the same thing while stopping me again, "easy." So, I just sit back and smile slyly at her, to which she says,
"What? Sooo... you just wanna fuck?" I thought to myself, "honesty, honesty, honesty..." In my deepest, most sultry voice, I tell her,
"I would be lying to you if I said that wasn't on the top of my priorities. I'd like to take things one step at a time and see where they lead. Right now, I really like you, and I want you." Then, I get the best compliment a woman has ever given me,
"I think you're really a bad boy in disguise. I could tell when I first met you that you were a tiger..." Then the LMR collapses... "Maybe we should move into the bedroom"? she asks, to which I reply while taking her hand,
"I think that would be a good idea."
The Lay:
From there, I laid down on her bed first while she went to brush her teeth. When she came in, she pounced on top of me, and I grabbed her thighs. She was lusty as all hell, and I pulled her in to kiss my while grabbing her breasts from the outside and giving them a firm squeeze: they're huge! I get her shirt off and just enjoy sucking her giant tits with the bra still on while reaching back to unhook it hastily. Once her beautiful melons are bare in my face, I roll her over, expecting to go down on her and warm her up with some oral...nope. Instead, she's grabbing my pants, expertly undoing my belt and trousers until she has one hand around my shaft while the other is removing her own pants. This girl wants to get fucked! Oddly, she then asks me,
"Isn't this breaking American rules of dating?" I told her,
"We had three dates: X bar and lounge, X Coffee, and the tango concert," to which she replied,
"You're a slick devil."
Before I can even grab a condom, she is guiding my dick into her pussy, and I'm thinking, "awe fuck it, just go with the flow and sort the rest out later...this feels too good to interrupt." So, now I'm raw dogging her while she moans for me to fuck her deep and hard. After ten or so thrusts, I come to my senses and realize I better grab a condom.
Long story short: I finished in her twice that night, slept over, and took her again in the morning. She's very quiet (for her roommate's sake) but tells me it was amazing. Each time I would go to warm her up for another round with some fingering, she quickly grabbed my cock to fuck her again. As we laid in bed together, she kept telling me what a beautiful man I was, running her hand up and down my now well-defined abs. She asked me if I was married, had a girlfriend, or a boyfriend... lol, um I said, "even I have my limits." I told her I don't do girlfriends, to which she had a sad face for a moment.
The Aftermath:
Monday afternoon, I get this text.
Her: I'm leaving for a week this Friday, wanna get together before then?
Me: Sounds like fun [wink]—how's tomorrow or Thursday night?
Her: Both, if you play your cards right ;-) lol Tomorrow would be great
Me: Then let's begin tomorrow night, shall we... I always make the most of a good hand [smirk face]
So, there you have it, gentlemen. Looks like I just got a new fuck buddy. Hope you all enjoyed reading!
Cheers!
-M
