- Joined
- Jul 27, 2017
- Messages
- 16
Hey boys, Pinochet here and I'm filing a report from the field with HQ ;-)
My apartment is on the top floor of a 1920s building, on a street corner. It looks out over a canal. I had just gotten home when I saw out the window a girl sitting on a bench on the other side of the canal, sunning herself. She was wearing a pair of noise-canceling headphones and a sleeveless spandex bodysuit suitable for sporting activity. Nothing else that I could detect ;-)
She was thin and athletic, pushing 30 probably, mid-length chestnut hair, serious-looking, not too pretty-pretty. The type of lovingly-etched, no-nonsense face that looks great without makeup. And that fucking matte golden skin that drives me wild (connoisseurs will know what I mean…)
I needed probably 10 minutes to put my shoes back on, get downstairs, across the canal and to her bench. I had to go in the opposite direction to use the bridge and double back. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry anywhere, but conditions can change quickly in the field, as you know, boys, so chin up ;-)
In all honesty it was a perfect setup. Seated approach is my favorite anyway, the girl was alone and I had a clear path to the target
As no one else was around, I managed to make it obvious with body language that I was approaching her, before I even opened my mouth. I made eye contact and smiled.
She smiled and took of her sunglasses. A good start. There were two benches side-by-side each about eight feet long. She was sitting near the middle of the closer one. I took a seat about three feet from her. On reflection, I could have sat closer, but I think that giving her a chance to get used to me didn’t do any harm.
At this point she briefly closed off her body language and I thought I was BTFO. However, the fancy headphones apparently needed fiddling with so that they didn’t make further noise. She turned back to me.
This was either false modesty or a feminine rapport build because, as I mentioned, she was still extremely young and in faultless shape.
She pointed to the building behind us.
She laughed and thanked me for the offhand compliment. By the way she lit up it was clear that she was glad to have been approached. I should say that this conversation was progressing at a fairly slow pace as I have only in been in the country a short time and do not have a firm command of the language.
I extended my hand. She introduced herself and apologized for being a bit sweaty. Far from requiring an apology, it actually turned me on. I didn’t mention that, but just smiled wickedly.
We chatted amicably about how we found the apartments, how long we had been here, what it was like living in the neighborhood. Her body language was very relaxed, we were each half-turned toward the other, invested in the conversation. At one point she raised her arms behind her head. Her underarms were tenderly shaven, a little stubble showing through. I admired silently but almost swooned inside. I have an inexplicable passion for women’s underarms, it has been with me since adolescence.
After about five minutes I went for the close: I wanted to make sure it happened while the conversation was still lively and on the upswing.
I took my leave of her. She smiled, and after I had crossed the bridge and doubled back to turn the corner toward my apartment, I actually saw her give a little wave.
She had been genuinely beaming during the last part of the conversation. The boyfriend was real and the delight was real. This was one of my better approaches. Her being unavailable was literally the only problem. I left feeling like if she had been single, this would have resulted in a date with 95% certainty. The vibe was right, the girl was attractive, responsive, invested in the conversation, intelligent, charmed.
¡Saludo!
My apartment is on the top floor of a 1920s building, on a street corner. It looks out over a canal. I had just gotten home when I saw out the window a girl sitting on a bench on the other side of the canal, sunning herself. She was wearing a pair of noise-canceling headphones and a sleeveless spandex bodysuit suitable for sporting activity. Nothing else that I could detect ;-)
She was thin and athletic, pushing 30 probably, mid-length chestnut hair, serious-looking, not too pretty-pretty. The type of lovingly-etched, no-nonsense face that looks great without makeup. And that fucking matte golden skin that drives me wild (connoisseurs will know what I mean…)
I needed probably 10 minutes to put my shoes back on, get downstairs, across the canal and to her bench. I had to go in the opposite direction to use the bridge and double back. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry anywhere, but conditions can change quickly in the field, as you know, boys, so chin up ;-)
In all honesty it was a perfect setup. Seated approach is my favorite anyway, the girl was alone and I had a clear path to the target
As no one else was around, I managed to make it obvious with body language that I was approaching her, before I even opened my mouth. I made eye contact and smiled.She smiled and took of her sunglasses. A good start. There were two benches side-by-side each about eight feet long. She was sitting near the middle of the closer one. I took a seat about three feet from her. On reflection, I could have sat closer, but I think that giving her a chance to get used to me didn’t do any harm.
At this point she briefly closed off her body language and I thought I was BTFO. However, the fancy headphones apparently needed fiddling with so that they didn’t make further noise. She turned back to me.
This was either false modesty or a feminine rapport build because, as I mentioned, she was still extremely young and in faultless shape.
She pointed to the building behind us.
She laughed and thanked me for the offhand compliment. By the way she lit up it was clear that she was glad to have been approached. I should say that this conversation was progressing at a fairly slow pace as I have only in been in the country a short time and do not have a firm command of the language.
I extended my hand. She introduced herself and apologized for being a bit sweaty. Far from requiring an apology, it actually turned me on. I didn’t mention that, but just smiled wickedly.
We chatted amicably about how we found the apartments, how long we had been here, what it was like living in the neighborhood. Her body language was very relaxed, we were each half-turned toward the other, invested in the conversation. At one point she raised her arms behind her head. Her underarms were tenderly shaven, a little stubble showing through. I admired silently but almost swooned inside. I have an inexplicable passion for women’s underarms, it has been with me since adolescence.
After about five minutes I went for the close: I wanted to make sure it happened while the conversation was still lively and on the upswing.
I took my leave of her. She smiled, and after I had crossed the bridge and doubled back to turn the corner toward my apartment, I actually saw her give a little wave.
She had been genuinely beaming during the last part of the conversation. The boyfriend was real and the delight was real. This was one of my better approaches. Her being unavailable was literally the only problem. I left feeling like if she had been single, this would have resulted in a date with 95% certainty. The vibe was right, the girl was attractive, responsive, invested in the conversation, intelligent, charmed.
¡Saludo!
