It was Shammers idea to go to Poland to chase Eastern European girls. After he had a successful run in Lithuania, having made love (his words) with a local girl on the beach (someone should make a drink about experiences like this), and two days after, having owned the whole floor of a nightclub in Vilnius while he danced with a stunning local girl who ditched her boyfriend to dance with Shammers, he then decided to organize a little trip with the RSG guys. Nick and I agreed to go, where we would be joined by Adam in his local city.
While my story will take place in Lodz, I have to mention that I witnessed something in Krakow that would change Day Game; Something I didn’t think would be possible before:
Although already knowledgeable and experienced about Day Game, it was only in 2009 things started to click for Nick. Whereas he’d number close dozens of girls per week, he wasn’t getting many lays, as you can see in his old posts.
We were doing Day Game in the streets of Krakow. After having walked the whole afternoon looking for sets, we were near the apartment, about to call it a day, when Nick, restlessly, tried one last approach. In less than 15 minutes he extracted the cute Polish student while I went back for a nap. I woke up with Nick text-messaging me saying he had fucked her in the toilet of a pub! It was (if I’m not mistaken) his first ever SDL.
Nick only got better after that and went on from being the least successful player in our group to the best Day-Game Artist in the world, with hundreds of lays and scores of SDL.
Lodz is a charming university city 100 Km from Warsaw. Upon arriving there, we spent the afternoon catching up with Adam in a cool little pub. Him being well connected in the city, he invited us to join him in the VIP area of a nightclub where we met a very confident young man who was studying at a local university while also learning game. He is as good looking as a night-wolf.
While we were enjoying each other’s company, Nick pointed at a local girl who was dancing next to her friends, near the bar.
‘That girl over there is at the most fertile time in the month. Notice how she’s dancing on her own, even though there aren’t any males near her. She’s not trying to get anyone’s attention, but unconsciously she is trying to communicate she is ready to mate. Neither of her friends are dancing. Also, it’s too early in the night so she can’t be drunk. I don’t fancy her, but someone should approach her.’
He barely finished the last sentence, and I was on my feet walking straight towards her. I complimented her on the way she danced (by then I was honing my direct approach for bar/club-game) hooking her right away. When she found out I was Brazilian, she answered me back in Portuguese. It turned out she had spent two years in Brazil as part of a university exchange. What a great banter.
I brought Sexy Dancer and her friends back to our VIP area, and Adam started hitting on the other girl. He had previously asked us to not say he was Polish, instead he wanted to play as an American.
After about an hour or so, I isolated Sexy Dancer to an upstairs area where we made out. Since I was staying at a hostel, I didn’t have any place to F-Bomb her at, but Nightwolf had kindly offered me his hotel room, at a nearby Holiday Inn.
‘Let’s get out of here,‘ I suggestet
‘Anywhere, let’s get lost.‘
Since I didn’t have any location ready, I played the adventurous card. The goal was to get her out of the club and away from her friends.
She readily got up, I picked up the key from Nightwolf, and we jumped into a cab.
When we got to the hotel, she called her friend to say where she was. Of course, they spoke in Polish and I couldn’t understand a word, bit I smirked when she told me her friend was at Adam’s apartment.
Adam told me afterwards that the following took place when his girl picked up the phone:
‘Hey, I’m sucking his cock right now … Hmm, it tastes nice … Are you gonna have sex with yours? … Ok then, have fun.’
We went down to business. She was so horny our clothes went down within minutes. I bent her over and started F-Bombing her from behind. Because she was too sensitive, she’d twist her body in such a way that the bomber would slip off. I then grabbed hold of her long hair and yanked it hard, unabling her movements. It was one of the most sensual fucks I’ve ever had.
I was greeted with a glass of whisky back at Adam’s apartment, while the two girls started talking to each other, in Polish, unaware that Adam could understand them, comparing their experiences. They were rating us.
According to Adam, their exchange went somewhat like this:
‘How was yours?’
‘It was amazing. How about yours?’
‘Oh, it was great!’
We both got a five-star rate. It would have been embarrassing to hear otherwise.
Now, the girls wanted to get back to the nightclub; Adam and I wanted them to go home so we could go back to the nightclub and pick up more. We got our way (again) and as soon as they entered they cab, Adam and I were walking back to the club, trying to get one more notch. Unfortunately we didn’t have any luck the second time, but it would have been legendary if we did.
Although I had gotten back as the king of F-Town (a game we used to play in which the last person to F-Bomb a girl in foreign soil would hold this noble tittle), Nick’s SDL was truly amazing. He went on to repeat it many more times.
P.S. I’m in some sort of relationship now, so I won’t be posting about new F-Bombs for a while.
We will call him Loser – he is. At 36, all he has accomplished is to have finished his college degree (last year) and has the ability to work out for four hours a day, even though his body doesn’t show. Living with his parents, he never had to work to buy any of the many cars he has had. When he told his mum he wanted to start riding a bike, she promptly offered to pay for his insurance (which is very expensive in Brazil), should something happen to his BMW motorcycle.
He is a whiny leftist too, who ‘fights’ for the minorities.
We became friends through a mutual girl-friend at a house party, in 2012. Upon deciding to hit a local nightclub later that night, I showed him how to approach a group of girls and he got obsessed with me, and wanted to be my friend at any cost.
I never actually saw him picking any girls up, but he’d always tell me he did. About two years ago he texted me and some other friends saying that he was in a serious relationship and had to delete his Facebook, Whatsapp, etc. Loser simply disappeared… until recently.
Loser reactivated his Facebook account and got in touch, inviting me for a beer, which he insisted to buy. There, he told me how he’d broken up with his girlfriend because she was a mental girl who wanted to control and force him to stay away from all his friends, that she would slap and scratch him if he didn’t comply to her wishes. He also told me he started taking Jiu Jitsu. This was in January 2016. Since then, he’d often invite me out for a beer and would insist on paying – almost as a bribe for his dull companionship.
Around October, I met a girl at a nightclub and brought her back home. After F-Bombing her in all forms you can possibly imagine (like a whore), I suggested we had a threesome with another girl. On the very next day she had a friend lined up, which we took to a bar and to a Motel after. What a resourceful girl this Nightclub Pick Up turned out to be. I decided to let her come visit sometimes; we’d drink, fuck and then she’d take a Uber back home. Even though she was short and cute, I didn’t like her spending the night because she was a nester, besides being a little bit mental. Still, she was the giver of the best (maybe second best) blowjob I’ve ever had.
One night she texted me asking if she could come over; I told her I wouldn’t want to see her anymore because I was going out with some other girl. Nightclub Pick Up then took a Uber to my doorstep, rang the bell and asked if we could talk. Even though I found that weird, I still talked to her, outside, and politely told her to fuck off. Because of her attitude of knocking on my door, I blocked her from all social medias.
It was two months ago that Loser and I had just stepped into a bar when it all happened. Nightclub Pick Up was standing in a corner near the entrance, surrounded by her girlfriends. She was looking at our direction in awe; I pointed a finger at her, with a smile on my face, as if saying ‘I see you,’ but continued walking towards the inside of the bar; Nightclub Pick Up, still with a shocked look on her face, waved back in response; Loser, who was right behind me, asked, ‘let’s go to another bar? My ex girlfriend is here.’
So we turned around and left.
Outside, I received a message saying ‘I never imagined you’d run from me,‘ from an unsaved number. I looked at Loser and he too was reading a message he’d just received. I was laughing inside, trying to control it, thinking of the shocking look she had on her face when she saw both of us walking in together.
The dilemma then was whether I should tell him, and I opted to do so, because I figured it’d be worse if he found out later through some cunning tactics Mental Nightclub Pick Up could apply.
Since there is no easy way of doing this, I told him plainly, when we were driving towards some other bar.
‘Look, I’ve been out with this girl a few times, but I would never have imagined she was your ex.’
Then I showed him the messages she had just sent, and how she was not even saved in my contact list. He asked me when it happened and then he said, that he wanted to go home.
‘I don’t like fucking ex-girlfriends,’ He stated in a crying voice.
‘Alright,’ I replied, ‘I’ll drop you off. I understand you are upset, but this was non-intentional and you can’t blame me for it.‘
If the same had happened to me, I would have said something like, ‘she gives good head, doesn’t she?’ and forget about it all. Or maybe even send her a photo of us both, asking ‘which one did you like better?’ or even ‘whose dick is bigger?’ But Loser was almost crying over a crazy ex, while riding in my car.
I dropped him off.
On the next day, I messaged him to ask how he was doing; he had already blocked me from Facebook and Whatsapp. He told our mutual friend that the problem is with him (obviously) but he feels like punching me. I’d like to have him try. Although he is bigger and stronger, he’d be very slow. Him having taken only BJJ wouldn’t be enough to take on me. I’d lower my base and try to connect an upper cut, if he went for my legs. If he managed to take me down, I’d try to tire him before attempting a sweep or submission. I am comfortable fighting from my back.
We met again, by chance. I was upstairs at a bar on a first date when he walked up to use the toilet. He must have heard my voice because he turned to look at my direction. I was laughing at a joke I had just made when I saw him, fist clenched staring at me. As we locked eyes, I nodded at him, a nod that said both ‘hey there’ and ‘bring it on’. Loser looked away and waited for his turn to use the toilet. I was wondering if he’d have the courage to charge at me when he walked out.
After he finished using the toilet, he walked down, carefully looking at his shoes.
In this post I will talk about: how I picked up one of the sexiest girl I’ve ever been with; Escalation Game.
I nicknamed her Dorothy, from the Wizard of Oz. She is 24 years old, about 1,50 tall (according to her – I think she’s 1,48 max), weighs no more than 45 kg [I’ve found out, she weighs 37kg]. Her sking is slightly tanned, like Eva Longoria, she is short with straight hair, small, perky breasts and a tiny ass to die for. She is 10/10 my type of girl. I like other types too, but similar to her, I have been with two others in my whole life – both became long-term girls, one before game, one post-game.
It’s a compatibility difficult to fathom. I am 1,82, weighing 84 kg and it seems like I would break her in two, literally, during sex, and would be able to stick half of my penis into them. But no, those types are built for sex. They get their pleasure from their wombs being pushed-in hard. They bear the pain and get off from it. It’s like the perfect gene-match, that’s why the attraction is electrifying, almost tangible.
This year I’ve been focusing less on Game and more both on my business and on playing poker, especially in the first three months.
I went through a dry-spell, mostly because I would cancel dates to go play a tournament on the weekends. One day I even took a girl out and talked about poker for most of it. I still got the lay.
Therefore I decided to set up a much better Tinder profile and I found out that the description is key to not only match with the 8s and 9s, but have them to message me first. (More on that soon).
Since my strongest asset is end-game, this internet thing works well for me.
I was in a city, one hour away from where I live, at my aunt’s house, where she cooked feijoada and I was making caipirinhas when Dorothy super-liked me and soon after sent me the first message. She looks gorgeous. While my text-game isn’t as good as Nick’s, Jimmy’s or Burto’s, it is still way better than average, enough to keep the conversation light and the girl engaged once they are hooked. We talked about various things on Tinder, for the first two days, and then we exchange numbers. I was always teasing her and she would respond really well, always following my leads.
I tried to get her to Campinas, but she said she wouldn’t be comfortable coming. It was Saturday afternoon when she asked me ‘why can’t you come to me instead?‘ so I set to find an excuse to be at her city.
‘Well, I do have a family event in your city tomorrow, so maybe I could go tonight and just stay till tomorrow.’
She responded by sending me a list of bars we could go to, and very deferring, she asked what kind of places I enjoyed going.
I pick her up 23:00 and took her to a live-music bar, where we sat at a table outside. It was mildly cold, but bearable without any jackets. Lots of people were judgmentally staring at me. When I pointed that out to Dorothy, she said it was because she is so tiny, they think she’s 15. Since we were both drinking, smoking and flirting, people probably thought of me as a nonse who would give cigs and booze to a minor. Maybe not concerned, maybe they were jealous. Good thing I wasn’t driving a van.
I arranged my self to sit at a 45 degree. I sat back with my legs pointing away from her, legs crossed, so my head would have to be slightly turned to face Dorothy. She sat facing me, her legs pointing at me. She was leaning towards me. Later, when I returned from the toilet, I noticed she had moved her chair slightly closer to mine.
Dorothy likes speed, guns and danger, so my stories were about: a car accident I had in Florida and how everyone came out unscathed – it involved a party, a friend and two girls; about martial arts and how much that helps me make decisions in life; about my trips to the Amazon Forest; about living in London and organizing fashion parties.
Whilst she wasn’t giving many obvious IOIs, I noticed one, specifically, that said she wanted to fuck me. She was wearing a sleeveless blouse, and she would often raise one of her arms to flinch her hair We all know that armpit display is a strong sign the girl is attracted. She raised both of her arms, but she didn’t touch her hair. Instead, they were just raised in display while she was looking away. She looked so fresh!
We all have our peculiarities. Me, I won’t date a girl if her armpits are dark, creased or for some particular reason don’t look good to me. Hers were gorgeous and it made her that much more attractive.
My escalation is simple, lean and efficient – natural. I wait for a point in the conversation where we are both conspiring, smiling or laughing at the same thing, I then grab one of the girl’s hand and hold it, playing with it or interlocking fingers, resting on the table or on one of her legs. It’s a level achievement. Once you got this, you can grab or release at will.
Held-hand-escalation is way better than asking the girl to pull your finger so you can spin her while she bites you ankle, allowing you to twist her arm to get a kiss.
Sometimes girls will need their hand back and will be shy to grab yours again. If it’s resting on the table, you don’t want to leave them there, begging for her hand back. Make sure you keep your hand busy too, by grabbing your glass, for example. I will often break contact before she does, if I need to.
While it looks very simple, there are important points to be considered.
I always keep my hand under hers, so girls know they can pull back – normally they won’t;
I never want to hold the back of her hand, like grannies do – unless fingers are interlocked to emulate spooning;
I don’t change my BL to hold her hand – it’d be like coming out of my way. I continue sitting back, relaxed;
My grip will be looser than hers for most of the time, but I will squeeze her hand and wrist every so often to show dominance.
You gain so much rapport from it. It’s what couples (boyfriend & girlfriend) do. They don’t make out all the time; they hold hands. It reinforces your bubble – or creates it.
From there, I grabbed hold of both Dorothy’s hands, teased her so she would give me a reaction, pulled her in, Eskimo-kiss-closed her then pulled back. The kiss was on. Another level achieved. I could kiss her anytime now. I liked to wait.
Extraction was simple. Once we were in my car, I asked her if she’d like to continue drinking, to which she replied she wanted to eat. I suggested going to a love-motel where there were drinks and food and we could rest some. Before she could say ‘OK,’ I turned the engine on…
We had teased so much prior to the motel that it took me more than 30 minutes to get seduction on. She was so hyper, turning on the Jacuzzi (fully clothed), exploring the room and choosing the music. But once we started escalating, there were sparks all over. Clothes were off, I lied her down while I kissed her body. When I got to her nipples, she moaned with pleasure. Hands everywhere – what a body! She came as soon as I penetrated her. I thought she wouldn’t be able to take the whole thing, but she did.
“You hurt me a bit“, she said in a complementary tone. I pounded her harder. I would pick her up, spin her around, slap her tiny little ass, because I wanted to hear her moan from a different angle. She was biting the pillow and scratching my arms.
It was like she was possessed by the devil.
If there were any soul connection at all, it was overshadowed by the physical connection. We were two sluts seeking pleasure from one another.
She could score as an eight, but for her ideologies. On her Social Network page, her description says ‘Feminist, Black and Actress.‘ She is also a ballerina. I take she is mix-race, because her skin colour is quite light.
I had second thoughts before and during the date. I once turned down socialist/feminists because, after I’d said ‘I’m exactly what you’re fighting against. I’m a businessman,’ she replied:
‘You explore people then.’
‘I employ people, and pay them a salary both sides agree upon. I provide opportunities so they can get their bills paid and improve their lives.’
She said I was different, in a good way, and offered me her number. I never contacted her.
This Ballerina was different. Besides being hotter, I thought she could challenge me some.
She took the bus from a neighbouring city and walked to our rendezvous, at 18:30 hours. A local bar. I brought in Americano with me, who just introduced himself and left, and then both Ballerina and I changed tables, after my suggestion to sit outside. I was right away leading. Because of a good-mood I was in, conversation was light and we seemed to hit it off quite well, though I knew that given Brazil current situation, people are more politicized and at some point, we would have to touch the subject. If you assumed she is a leftist (why would you?), you then are correct.
Up to this stage, she knew me only to be a teacher, never a business-owner.
We took stabs at each other all night long. I’ve won most (if not all – fourth is arbitrary).
Upon hearing I am into watching MMA, she said ‘well, that’s a sport that shouldn’t exist altogether. What’s the point of creating an event in which the sole purpose is to inflictpainontoone another?’
As in any other date, you don’t want to create conflicts. On the other hand, you have to show conviction of who you are and what you like and believe in. I quickly dismissed her – to the pleasure of a guy sitting next table who was clearly eavesdropping on us (who I got the impression was rooting for me) – by saying ‘it’s a situation in which two adults agree to fighting each other and are well prepared to defend themselves.’
I thought it’d be unnecessary to mention a Russian organization that promotes fights among kids. Nevertheless, I don’t watch kids fights.
She didn’t quite agree with me, and we swerved the conversation to her telling me about how she was into dancing and acting since she was little.
After coming back from the toilet, Ballerina told me that, if anyone asks us, I’m her boyfriend. She was fed up with this waiter who was hitting on her while she was queuing.
‘Worst of all, I’m not proud to say it’s NOT the first time it happened,’ she said with a discussing face. ‘You are so lucky this doesn’t happen to guys much.’
I welcomed this opportunity real bad and said matching her discussing voice:
‘Oh but it does, and it’s horrible. A cousin of mine, who is a former footballer and now works as a model, gets hit on all the time. He is married too, but has never cheated. When I lived on The Island, women would sound their horn at me. At a bar, I would always grow very uncomfortable when I just wanted to hang out withmyfriends. Some girls would just try to escalate try to kiss me. Don’t you just hate it whenthishappens? I mean, people are so invasive. Americano has women throwing themselves at him left to right. And he too isfaithfulto his wife. People are socluelesssometimes…’
This did it. I told her story-after-story and she didn’t know how to react. I made it almost look like I was another girl complaining to her friend, so effortlessly. She seemed to be confused to find out this was not a Gender Issue, and it was beautiful.
This one was less dramatic. She criticized some automaker companies for having the most fiscal benefits. Randomly, I had read an interview in which Brazil GM’s CEO was asking for better conditions to get a more competitive market, instead of the benefits, so it can be viable to export, instead of only selling it locally. The cost of production in Brazil is nearly twice as much as both Mexico and Argentina, and it takes longer to produce it here.
I almost felt bad for this one. Almost.
I had the felling this date was not going too well, and decided to invest a little bit more, so I threw in some DHV related to both teaching and travelling to the Amazon, the two subjects that would spark her interest, then I got her talking about her passion for acting. I learned that she comes from an upper-middle class family and has probably never wanted for nothing. At the same time, she is a hard-working person who seeks her independence, which is rather an attractive quality to me.
She had tried to touch my arms a couple of time and I took that as IOIs.
She told me her last bus would leave at around 22:30, so we went to another bar nearer her stop at around 21:00 hours. We split the bill and walked.
There were some other IOIs on how she looked at me, turning her chin over her shoulder in a very feminine manner.
The first kino happened when I made fun of her over something and she showed me the middle finger – culturally it’s okay to do this to a friend as a form to bond, in Brazil – so I grabbed her hand and ordered her to behave. We instantly interlocked finger and she told me that she is always well behaved.
She was leaning against me when I showed her a note I carry in my wallet, written by my little adopted sister, who was seven when she wrote:
Suave, may God go with you and please don’t talk to strangers.’
‘Be careful, I might be a little bit strange sometimes, said Ballerina.
‘I’m sure you are,’ I replied pulling her in for the kiss.
Her soft, thin lips are a real turn-on and she is a good kisser. As I grabbed her hard, sometimes yanking her hair down, she got very aroused. Twenty minutes before her bus is due, I ask her to stay until whenever, and I would drive her home after. She says she doesn’t want to be a bother, to which I reply:
‘We are both having a good time, why cut the night short, when we can enjoy each-other’s company for longer?’
At this stage, we truly were having a great time. When we kissed some more, she again got aroused and stealthily placed her forearm on my cock.
‘Let’s stop somewhere, get some beer and head back to my apartment?’ I wanted this moment to be bold.
Girls have funny ways of saying ‘yes,’ to that question, and I was curious to find out hers.
‘Are there any places near your house that sell beer?’
‘Oh, there are plenty.’
When we were waiting in line to pay for the beer at a supermarket near my place, she leaned against me, put her hand between her back and started to lightly stroke my cock over my trousers. To be honest, anyone could notice what was going on and we both knew it.
Extraction and Fourth Stab
I was fingering her in less than five minutes after walking into the apartment. I deliberately went a bit fast, and then she showed some mild resistance. We both knew what was going to happen.
I took a step back and played some music. After escalating again, I carried her into my bedroom, threw her onto my bed, and removed her dress then the rest of my clothes. Again, we were going a bit too fast – I didn’t care much – and she decided to do a take away on me.
‘I want to turn you on and make you wait. This is me taking a stab at you.’
I guess this was her way of re-framing, for she knew she was going to get F-Bombed and probably felt she had to get the upper hand and hold on to it as long as she could.
There was no need to panic since I know how to play the take-away game. We just lay on the bed as if we had just fucked, me completely naked and her on her panties only. She would make fun of me and say I looked upset. I never did, but there was no point in telling her. I guess she wanted me to be upset so bad that she would see me as if I were. I brushed it off and started talking about something else, but she would bring it back, as if she were making fun of me, again.
This was so easy to deal with and in about ten minutes, she was escalating me, this time to never go back. She was laying on her belly when I removed her nickers, grabbed a condom and took her from behind, as animals do.
The stabbing at each other ended.
It was during and after sex that her true self came out and I could see that behind her concepts were this kind and slightly insecure little girl. She was often asking whether I was enjoying the sex and asked me to tell her what I wanted her to do. Then she said something a little bit weird:
‘You brought me here to perform an act. If I don’t perform well, you might be put off a bit.’
My philosophy says that sex is act to be performed with another person and that both parts must be comfortable with what you are doing. I will only do what I like. I expect pleasure and I give pleasure. For me it’s a turn on to see a girl moaning and cumming. I like to watch them shaking after a session, so I told her that for me, having an orgasm is the end of sex. I like the during phase; the noise, the bed rocking, the touch and feeling of her skin, the many passionate kissing and more…
We fucked many times, and she asked the same question again. She needed reassuring. I didn’t reassure her the second time, but she had proven to be a sweet person who liked to cuddle and kiss. I like her lips and kisses.
A funny incident happened in the middle of the night. After waking up for another go, she came on my hand. Then she started stroking me hard while giving me head. I wanted to cum, so I came into her mouth. After she headed to the toilet to spit it out, I told her I had some Listerine if she wanted to wash her mouth. She told me she was going to brush her teeth. On her way to grab her necessaire, she said to me in a mildly distraught voice:
‘I’d rather you told me next time you plan on coming in my mouth.’
Now, if a girl is stroking your hard with her mouth in your cock, you will assume she is OK with what comes after.
‘Are you serious you got upset?’ I asked
She hurried back to where I was, sat on my lap, very apologetically saying she was not upset and that she was going to brush her teeth either ways. Maybe her complaining was an automatic reaction to something she actually likes, but probably in some women-discussion group, it was said that men should ask them if they are okay with it. I think she does what she is told, not what she wants to, but, again, her personality comes out and she is this caring, warm-hearted girl.
I would definitely want to see her again. We had this amazing sexual energy, which is not easy to find, and I need some new challenge in my life. In addition, I like her as a person, even though we both fight against what the other believes in.
This post is separated into three parts (Intro, Story 01 & Story 02) that are connected, though each will make send on their own. I personally like Story 01 best.
And here I am, writing from an airport terminal again and it’s the same one where I wrote or revised texts before. Since flights are famously expensive in South America, it’s difficult to get around and any short trip must be well planned. On average, flights costs Brazil’s monthly minimum salary. Or more.
I managed to convince a girl-friend who works for an airliner to book me a ticket to the Sex Island, where I came to spend the weekend. It’s difficult to manage a harem from afar. Bitches were all over the place. Curly converted to church and is dating a boy who hasn’t grown his pubics yet; Netflix & Chill answered my messages very non-committedly; some girls had a strange vibe, others I never got round to messaging. In the end, I came onto the island targeting three girls, two with whom I’d been with before: one from Rio (Copacabana), whom I never wrote about, Lucy Liu (my main target) and the new girl is Church Choir Singer. Spending three nights, I should have enough time to be with each of them.
I set foot on the island Thursday to Friday at around 2AM and had Copacabana meet me at a bar near my hostel. I booked a private room as to not worry about logistics. Of course, sex was on a plate and she was all over me. We ended up going to her place instead, where I had my way with her. She is 23.
Nice! I managed to get the first one out of the way after a few hours, and I then had enough time to plot for Lucy Liu and Singer.
I learned that Lucy Liu had her phone stolen one week before I came to the Sex Island. She is a University Student and has no money to buy another until next month. We chat over Facebook. I also learned that after I left the island, she broke up with her 60+ year old boyfriend, whom she lived with. She is 21. I also realised he is not all that alpha and he is very much jealous of her. It’s a funny story. Although they are not together, she is still living at his house. She told me she had left, but didn’t have many options in terms of housing, so she kind of works as his helper, but she can now do whatever she wants to, like have a life.
Lucy Liu sincerely tells me she doesn’t like her ex anymore, when I ask whether she gets jealous of him. I couldn’t care less.
How I first met Lucy Liu:
Thirteen months ago, when I was living on the island, I went on a date with a girl who, for some reason, brought along her friend Brenda. That has happened before, and in most cases, it works to my advantage. But something was off that night and my charms did not work too well, so I decided to cut it short for various reasons. One of them being that, when we were entering my car to change venues, the girls were fighting to sit on the back seat !
After I duly dropped them off, I thanked the saints I would never have to meet them again. A few days after, I receive a Facebook friend request from Lucy Liu, having Date Girl as a common friend.
After a few exchanges, she fires:
LL: ‘Do you and Date Girl chat very often?’ Followed by, ‘Can I ask you a very personal question?’
Me: ‘Sure, I know what you will ask, but go ahead.’
LL: ‘I bet you don’t. How large is your penis?
Me: ‘0.0 I got it wrong.’
LL: ‘LOL. It’s just that this came up today, after class.’
All three girls, Lucy Liu, Date Girl and her friend Brenda are classmates, so I assumed she’d had this vital discussion with them.
Me: ‘You were discussing my dick…?’
LL: ‘Yes, we were. So… what’s the answer…?’
Let’s talk about penis for a second. Whether we lie or tell the truth, she has only one way of finding out. I, for one, never have a measuring tape ready by my bed.
I am not proud to confess I have measured it before. I am very proud to say that it rates well above average. It is not particularly big but it ain’t never gonna be small. But you’re damn right I would add another inch to it if I could.
Anyways, I answer her straight and soon receive a rather polite compliment, as if it was an accomplishment, like getting that promotion. Thanks, I guess. Then she throws some cold water, which shrinks my penis to half; her boyfriend’s, she says, is an inch larger than mine. What a cunt! He is 60+, fucks a 21 year old and is strapped.
LL: ‘Btw, what did you think I was going to ask?’
Me: ‘Whether I’d been with your friend, Date Girl.’
LL: ‘I see. She is no longer my friend. We don’t talk.’
That’s new information. It’d be like a piss-off-my-former-friend-fuck.
We then exchange pictures (not nudes), talk about sexual fantasies, she asks about my travels and we try to arrange a date, which we both forget about after.
The next day I open her with a mild tease, to which she replies the following:
LL: ‘I’ve been told about this bald guy who is quite good looking, but when he is on the catwalk, he thinks too much of himself.’
Date Girl and Brenda certainly noticed that I walk slightly funny, but catwalk?! My tendons are shorter, so it looks as if I have springs under my feet. It’s not a disability and it’s easy to fix, but it doesn’t bother me. It did when I was a teenager. Add to the fact that, besides being tall, I hold my head high, keep a good posture and dress a bit different, I do come across as arrogant. I probably am too.
Me: ‘Those groupies…’
*** some many other subjects ***
Me, after many exchanges: ‘I’ve been called snobbish by your friends.’
LL: ‘Well, you seem to be, but I don’t know you. Maybe you aren’t.’
Me: ‘Did you discuss my dick with Brenda today?’
LL: ‘Why, did she say anything to you?’
Me: ‘That didn’t answer my question.’
LL: ‘I don’t remember talking about your dick with her. So… nothing happened between you guys?’ She’s investigating.
Me: ‘Nah. I dropped them off then went on to help a girl-friend who’d had too much to drink and couldn’t drive.’
This was a way to DHV myself after a date gone wrong. It is almost to say I had a booty-call. I also explained that neither of her two friends had caught my attention and that Date Girl actually is a bit fun, more so than Brenda is.
Me: ‘Don’t tell them, though.’
LL: ‘Don’t worry, I won’t.’
A few hours after, Date Girl messages me the following:
DG: ‘Groupies? Come on now?!’ she snaps. ‘Unfortunately your name was mentioned today.’
Me: ‘Hahaha, you gossip girls.’
DG: ‘And then you say you’re not snobbish. Oh, rest assure that the size of your penis was never a matter to no one… especially Brenda. She was really embarrassed by this. It’s is nonsense.’
I print-screened it and forwarded it to Lucy Liu. Boy, was I enjoying myself!
She replies after two hours, first with an audio saying she showed Brenda the print of our first penis- conversation. ‘That was it,’ she sworn, followed by an apology.
In the second voice message she said the only reason she showed Brenda the messages was to not cross her, in case we had hooked up. Then she laughed at the likability of Date Girl being much more enraged with this all, given the fact Date Girl changed her Facebook status to some angry emoticons gnashing their teeth.
LL: ‘I am very embarrassed.’
At this point she didn’t know whether I was upset. My intention was to see her reaction and get her to explain herself.
Me: ‘You girls are so funny, I’m cracking up. You will probably get some fulminating stares from Date Girl on Monday.’
LL: ‘Oh, she gives me hateful looks all the time now. Can’t wait till Monday,’ she replied, giggling.
Me: ‘And the reason for your falling out…? Did you borrow any of her Barbie dolls without permission or something?’
Nope. It was not as exciting as that. It was just a silly misunderstanding that neither of them had the ability to set straight. Although they hated each other, they continued being friends on Facebook – because unfriending would probably mean an all-out war.
Of course, LL made sure DG found out about our eventual crazy afternoon fuck, which happened to be on my last day on the Island, before moving back to Sao Paulo.
Thirteen months have passed and there I am on my way to meeting Lucy Liu. And Date Girl is coming along. They are BFF now. I wonder if they ever talk about my dick.
When we meet, it’s a bit awkward and difficult to engage in conversation with them both. No one mention the elephant in the room, so we talk about being robbed. After a while I take them to a cosy little bar, in which we order inside and drink outside, standing on the sidewalk where there is reggae music and some ten to fifteen local people gathered into small groups.
After a while, we are all more relaxed, then I start kinoing Lucy Liu. She happily complies. I poke fun of her not knowing how do dance and pull her closer to me. We are now snuggling.
Date Girl tries to look relaxed, but she doesn’t know what to do with herself.
Lucy Liu and I start making out and she is instantly turned on, rubbing her body against mine.
Meanwhile DG slow-dances alone next to us.
Lucy Liu had been anticipating this encounter for 13 months now. We make out very passionately and everyone is looking at us;
Everyone but DG, whose glass of beer on her hand is now the centre of her universe, even though it’s nearly empty. She sips at it every five seconds.
When I try to stop the kissing, Lucy Liu draws herself closer and kisses even more passionately. She is on her toes. She groans of pleasure when I yank her hair; my hands are all over her back, bum and legs, passed her short flowery dress.
I almost feel embarrassed for Date Girl, who makes an effort to not look at us. She is starring at a very interesting lamppost across the street.
I think Date Girl had such a wearing day prior to meeting us, even though she doesn’t work nor studies at the moment. She suddenly felt very tired and wanted to go home. We insisted that she stayed, but she needed to rest, she argued.
‘Want us to walk you to the bus terminal?,’ I politely offered, good soul that I am.
‘It’s fine. You guys stay. It’s just round the corner.’
A mean-minded person would say she wanted to get away from us, but not me. I know she’s just tired. She waves us goodbye from distance while she rushes off. Poor little lamb. I guess watching lamppost can drain you off after all.
Lucy Liu and I headed back to the hostel where I fucked her extra-hard. This had nothing to do with the missing inch. I swear.
I took Singer out to a bar Saturday afternoon, along with a common guy friend. The three of us had a few beers, Singer and I mildly flirted and she was kinoing me. It was going to be on. Our friend then had to leave, which would provide for a natural isolation, but then we all decided to go and meet again in the evening.
I was getting ready to meet Singer and some others friends when Lucy called saying she was ready to meet me. Because she had no phone, she was using her friend’s. Her ex-boyfriend had hidden the computer, so she could not even access her Facebook. I then had two choices:
Take Lucy ou;
Take Singer out;
After pausing for a second to think what would be the chivalrous thing to do, I then scoffed at this and chose the one with the finest ass.
She was wearing a thin dress that went above her knees and a jacket over it when I arrived to Pick her Up. It was mildly cold, as it normally is this time of the year in Sao Paulo. Our first date was going to be at my place. We had only to stop at the local supermarket to pick up a bottle of wine and some candles. My house was hit by a storm, so I had no power at home.
The supermarket would help to break the ice, there should be any. It was easy, just poke fun of her. At the wine section she told me she liked sweet wine so I asked an assistant whether they had wine for kids. At the stationary isle I told her we had crayons and paper at home and that she needn’t worry. So I went on with this frame, calling her a child all the way through.
This childish girl is very feminine, has a sweet, delicate voice, green eyes and a beautiful face. She looks like Snow White.
At my place I gave her a tour of the house and introduced her to Top Bob, a teddy monkey I found met a while ago. I live at a seven room house, which is also a school, so there were lots to show. The highlight of the tour was a kids room with small chairs and desks.
She walks as an artist in evidence, but very casually and romantically. Snow White is always smiling and sometimes giggling for no reason.
In my kitchen, she was standing in the middle of the floor, waiting for the matches to light the candles. I walked up to her, grabbed her head, pulled her in and kissed her. There had been virtually no kino prior to that moment, and yet it was magical, masculine and seductive. My fingers were touching her legs just where her dress ended. We both got excited by the touch, her tongue went cold. We parted.
She was feeling very comfortable in my kitchen, lighting the candles while I opened the wine. I was telling her how my house was similar to Fight Club’s Paper Street house.
Halfway through the first glass of wine we were kissing again. She’d removed her jacket, I was pulling her hair and kissing her neck. She was wearing micro underwear. With one hand I lifted her dress. I wanted to expose her, even though there was no one to see. I wanted her to feel exposed. She was wearing no bra and her dress slid off her shoulders. Her dress was now a garment in her waistline which soon dropped to her feet. She had only her micro nickers on, while I was still fully dressed, leaning against the kitchen sink.
She got the warmth she needed from my body. My hand was squeezing her leg and bum, she was rubbing her body against my crotch. I slid her panties down. She was now fully exposed to me while I was fully dressed. I could do anything with her now.
The first thing I wanted her to feel was my F-Bomb, so I never fingered her. I led her to my bedroom while I got undressed, dropping my clothes in the hallway. When I laid her onto my bed, a strip of light that came through the window lit her face. Her eyes brightened when I first penetrated her. She kept the same feminine manners, being submissive and caring.
She knows her body well because she does Tantra Meditation with a group of women. When she cums, her orgasms can last over two minutes.
A very delicate and sweet girl with amazing skills in bed. And she is not even experienced. We spent all night on top of each other, switching positions whenever the other got tired. She is so tight I thought she was a virgin.
When I was dropping her off in the morning she said two things I will never forget: 1) Thank you for the night and the magnificent orgasms; 2) I’m going to need a pillow to sit on at work today.
It was a different kind of happy meal. After having picked up Ginger at a rock bar through some Rock Solid Played Game, having had to mildly AMOG a very good looking competitor who wanted the same girl as me, she would just refuse to come to my house. We were making out on the street, next to her car, her girl friend inside, waiting to get dropped off. Ginger’s hand was inside my jeans.
Logistics was difficult because she had her car and I had mine. We live in opposite directions. What would you do? Invite her to Mac Donalds, of course!
She gladly accepted my invitation, so we dropped her friend off then she followed me.
The ideia of going to Mac D’s was because it’s a 24-hour thing. Now, you have to consider that using the drive thru would not be a good strategy, so we decided to park in a little corner, far from any prying eyes.
She parked next to me and then entered my car.
Let me tell you a bit about Ginger. She is 1,62m and works as a personal trainer. Yes, she is fit [!], has got a flat stomach, curvy ass and (at least) D-cup breast. No sooner than she entered my car her hands were all over my cock. We found a new connotation to Super Size.
Our intention was not to fuck there, but things got out of hand, so I pulled her knickers down, span her around and conquered her from behind.
Neither of us came, but I got the notch! She is coming round for more tonight. She said that, if I give her my address she will come visit every-other night. I’m loving it.
After we finished, she got into her car and drove off, while I stopped to order some French Fries to go.