- Joined
- Jan 1, 2020
- Messages
- 898
This happened right after the girl I’m casually seeing stayed with me for about a week. We’d been having sex every day, sometimes multiple times a day, and on the last day we spent the entire afternoon in bed. That afternoon had a strong impact on my energy — she gave me her ass, and I went in without a condom for the first time (I’ve only gone bare once before, when a condom broke during anal with an American tourist in 2020).
So I was still carrying a strong sexual and dominant vibe when I went to the supermarket and saw a fit, plain-faced Russian brunette inspecting asparagus. I opened her by saying, “Careful with those — make sure they’re not green.” She turned the asparagus toward me, I inspected it theatrically, handed it back, and said, “Yeah, that one might work.” She smiled, thanked me, and continued shopping.
A bit later, after picking up a few things, I walked past her again and said, “I should’ve written a list… now I’m lost,” glancing at the shelves. She agreed, and we ended up chatting for about five minutes. She told me she was Russian and had been living here for a while. I asked if she’d be down to grab a coffee sometime and collected her number.
Texting was smooth — standard small talk. The day after I sent a soft close, she liked the message, and then I proposed meeting for a drink on the weekend. We set the plan for Friday at 8pm.
She showed up in a tight short brown skirt and a stylish long-sleeve white T-shirt. Attractive and well-put-together. I greeted her with cheek kisses, and even in the elevator up to the rooftop bar I put my hand on her shoulder and stroked it (like a massage) as she talked about being stressed from work. The vibe was strong — honestly, I probably could’ve pulled her head onto my shoulder right there.
We sat next to each other at the bar, and within minutes, I had my hand around her waist. We stayed about an hour. I sprinkled in some light sexual framing — the idea of deep physical connection while traveling alone, our pre-linguistic biology, etc. She tried to derail it, or misinterpreted it, as “platonic connection,” but I steered it back to sex by being more specific. She had a beer, I had a mocktail. She mentioned she likes techno.
I extracted her home under the pretext of letting her try a drink she’d never tasted. On the walk over, I kept my hand on her waist.
At my place, she sat in my office chair and wouldn’t get up. I grabbed a small cube to sit next to her and kept the conversation going while we sipped. After a while I stood and told her to stand too; she resisted but eventually did. She put her arm on my shoulder and we made out a bit, but she pulled away and said she should go — “the longer I stay, the harder it will be to leave.” I walked her out, we kissed again, and she left.
When I analyzed it afterward, my conclusion was that with her being Russian, once we got home I should’ve been more decisive and led more strongly immediately. I’d been physically dominant all date, but once we entered my room I gave her too much space and let the momentum drop — which, with women like her, can read as hesitation or lack of leadership.
Later, over text, I tried to set up another meeting, but she gave me a weak excuse involving an ex-boyfriend — the same theme she hinted at when leaving my place. I might’ve grabbed her butt and breasts over her clothing at mine, can’t remember exactly.
Funny enough, I walked right past her on my street tonight on my way home.
So I was still carrying a strong sexual and dominant vibe when I went to the supermarket and saw a fit, plain-faced Russian brunette inspecting asparagus. I opened her by saying, “Careful with those — make sure they’re not green.” She turned the asparagus toward me, I inspected it theatrically, handed it back, and said, “Yeah, that one might work.” She smiled, thanked me, and continued shopping.
A bit later, after picking up a few things, I walked past her again and said, “I should’ve written a list… now I’m lost,” glancing at the shelves. She agreed, and we ended up chatting for about five minutes. She told me she was Russian and had been living here for a while. I asked if she’d be down to grab a coffee sometime and collected her number.
Texting was smooth — standard small talk. The day after I sent a soft close, she liked the message, and then I proposed meeting for a drink on the weekend. We set the plan for Friday at 8pm.
She showed up in a tight short brown skirt and a stylish long-sleeve white T-shirt. Attractive and well-put-together. I greeted her with cheek kisses, and even in the elevator up to the rooftop bar I put my hand on her shoulder and stroked it (like a massage) as she talked about being stressed from work. The vibe was strong — honestly, I probably could’ve pulled her head onto my shoulder right there.
We sat next to each other at the bar, and within minutes, I had my hand around her waist. We stayed about an hour. I sprinkled in some light sexual framing — the idea of deep physical connection while traveling alone, our pre-linguistic biology, etc. She tried to derail it, or misinterpreted it, as “platonic connection,” but I steered it back to sex by being more specific. She had a beer, I had a mocktail. She mentioned she likes techno.
I extracted her home under the pretext of letting her try a drink she’d never tasted. On the walk over, I kept my hand on her waist.
At my place, she sat in my office chair and wouldn’t get up. I grabbed a small cube to sit next to her and kept the conversation going while we sipped. After a while I stood and told her to stand too; she resisted but eventually did. She put her arm on my shoulder and we made out a bit, but she pulled away and said she should go — “the longer I stay, the harder it will be to leave.” I walked her out, we kissed again, and she left.
When I analyzed it afterward, my conclusion was that with her being Russian, once we got home I should’ve been more decisive and led more strongly immediately. I’d been physically dominant all date, but once we entered my room I gave her too much space and let the momentum drop — which, with women like her, can read as hesitation or lack of leadership.
Later, over text, I tried to set up another meeting, but she gave me a weak excuse involving an ex-boyfriend — the same theme she hinted at when leaving my place. I might’ve grabbed her butt and breasts over her clothing at mine, can’t remember exactly.
Funny enough, I walked right past her on my street tonight on my way home.
)
