Fashion Blogger

It was a Saturday evening during the London fashion week. I was about to meet with a wing I was introducing to daygame. Earlier that day in the morning I told Matt on the phone I was feeling tired with little motivation to go out. Later in the afternoon I did two sets: the girls were sweet but I had no banter. I had been pretty much rubbish.

In short, I started this session with my wing more as if I was doing him a favour: “let's do two sets each, quick compliments with a smile, spreading the love, we'll be so-so but whatever, once it is done we go have a nice dinner”.

I did not want to walk with him for ages, do nothing and let the approach anxiety build up and win us over. As he was coming to meet me next to Covent Garden, I spotted a girl who was probably a model because of her sculpted face and because she was sitting in a Starbuck just next to a Fashion Week event. I opened her with a compliment, she replied politely thanking me but checking her phone, not particularly interested. The first one the worst one. I had nothing interesting or witty to say, I wished her a nice evening and left to meet my wing.

Five minutes later I saw a pretty girl, looking like a model, Latina, with a great fashion style, sitting outside. I asked my wing “another model, do you want to go talk to her?”. He said he was not feeling ready yet so I happily volunteered to open her telling her I liked her style. She was cool, looking confident in the way she was talking. As I was close I could see that she was indeed pretty and in particular she had incredible lips. We chatted a bit about the fact she was a fashion blogger and she was attending the Fashion Week events, doing shootings in London. Instead of going “wow that’s amazing” I did a bit of teasing. I asked her to remove her stylish sun glasses so I could see her eyes. The eye contact was strong.

We bantered a bit:

“You must be one of those girls posting pictures of herself all the time and you must have the world record of likes from friend-zoned guys.”

“haha yeah well I am a blogger/model so I guess it is part of my job”

“If I was your Facebook friend, which I am not interested in, I'd have to use the option to unfollow you otherwise you would spam my wall.”

She giggled, we kept on chatting about her and a bit about me, and I ended: “alright, I have to go now to join my friend, he's lost somewhere. Bad news: you're not getting a new follower with me. Good news: you're cute and cool, let's have a drink while you are here in London”.

We exchanged numbers and I noticed one detail: she took my phone and punched in her name herself. This is not exact science, but it is usually a good sign.

Another detail: while talking to her I sent a simple text with my name and a smiley just so that she gets my number. Ten minutes after I left she sent me a text with another smiley: another good sign.

We texted the next day and she asked what I was doing. This was quite late on a Sunday evening. I was lazy so I suggested to meet the day after or Wednesday. She went radio-silent for a few days. I sent an anti-flake text on Thursday. She replied she had just finished the fashion week and we agreed to meet in the evening. She flaked one hour earlier, explaining she had left charger and keys at her friend's place, she had to go back but we could meet maybe later. In short, I just told her: “let me know, I am happy to make other plans, no pressure”. No reply so I forgot about her. If a girl flakes and does not clearly suggest to reschedule, I don't insist.

To my surprise she texted two days later, on a Saturday evening after midnight. I started to understand that this girl acted in the moment, when she was free I had to take the chance. Maybe that goes against the pick-up advice of making yourself unavailable but the fact was: this girl was pretty and fun and in London for just a few days therefore no need to wait for a week to make plans. There is a difference between trying to seduce a girl who lives here and a girl who is just passing through. So I suggested to meet that very evening -yes it was late but life is short. She did not accept but it still looked promising:

Her: “Let’s see if we meet tomorrow or Monday. You should visit me in Paris next week.”

Me: “I don’t visit you, you visit me ;)”

Her: “Haha ok then.”

I confess: before going to bed I googled her and spent one minute on her Instagram full of pictures reminding me how sexy she was, full of likes from followers and comments using always the same words hermosa, bonita, etc. After one minute, I thought: stop it, you will see her later, real life better than pics on internet, go to bed. But to help finding sleep, I made one mistake, at least I think that was a mistake for the next day: I masturbated thinking of her, shock horror!

I let her have the last word that night and re-engaged the following morning to suggest a date using a form of text I saw in one of Krauser’s books and which I found quite smart:

“Hey buddy, I am hesitating between snubbing this cute but slightly flaky pirate or giving her a chance to be taken to a cool place tonight, what do you think? ;)”

She replied positively and we agreed on a date in the evening.

Here we were, the date was planned but I had in mind she could flake again. She texted before the date to ask what I was wearing. I replied with a picture of Borat and his famous mankini saying I was wearing something summery and light to show my muscles.

I was meeting her at the end of the afternoon in Oxford Circus and I was getting ready about one thing: while waiting for me outside a shop she could be approached by a daygamer on his Sunday boot camp. The likelihood of this happening was high, and I could not blame any potential rival if it happened. Once a daygamer approached a girl who was waiting for me, she texted me while he was talking to her to tell me to hurry, I arrived and the guy said goodbye politely. I have to say he had been fair following the implicit rules of daygame camaraderie. I have already seen daygamers hitting on a girl and I would never go interrupt their sets.

We finally met: I decided to skip the first venue and go directly to the cocktail place. The vibe was really good, she was fun and spontaneous. After thirty minutes we were making out, all over each other. We were stopping from time to time to banter a bit and then back to kissing again. That was great.

At one point I said “let's move”. She asked where we were going, I said “I'll show you my drums at home”. She replied with this lovely word “OK”.

Our cab took ages to reach my place.

As I usually do to make a girl comfortable at home, I gave her some space and asked her to choose a playlist on Spotify while I was going to the toilet. Shortly after we started making out and it was on again. As I was playing with my lips and my fingers between her great legs, I was thinking hell yeah daygame is amazing!.

I had a great time doing foreplay, I spent quite some time doing it as I was enjoying her body and the taste of it. I could feel she was enjoying it too. She said “wow where did you learn that?”. The Spotify playlist she had chosen was perfect for sex.

I know you must be thinking: yet another wannabe Rocco Siffredi writing about how great he is in bed with a hot girl. To be honest I wish it was the case but things didn’t turn out this way.

Here is what happened: at one point I went to the bathroom to pick up a condom. I was out of my usual brand so I had to go for a box of a different type which I kept at the bottom of a drawer as a back-up. I struggled to open the box -those things must be designed to be impossible to open quickly, it’s made on purpose to kill the mood which increases the contraceptive effect. When I came back to the sofa my dear little friend was getting soft.

Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe I was tired. The unusual type of condom -bad excuse, too much adrenalin after all the excitement of the evening -the heavy make out at the bar and the long foreplay, or this bad idea of masturbating the previous day? Anyhow I needed to be turned on again, which is a really strange thing to say when a hot Latina is lying on your sofa waiting for you.

I made her stand, kissed her, touched her great butt. She was still on and that turned me on again. I gave her a tour of my flat while we were having sex -skipping the bedroom, too romantic. I remember the peak when I took her on the kitchen worktop, the rhythm of the Spotify track matching the moment perfectly.

We had been at it for a while and it was time to finish... But being a narcissistic idiot, I wanted to impress her with cool moves -such as carrying her to show how strong I was. Please allow me one or two sentences to self blame, it’ll make me feel better: “what an idiot, have you not heard many times that is not about trying to impress her at all costs and that it does not have to last ages, why didn't you finish intensely at that moment instead of wanting to show all your great sport sex skills?” I learnt my lesson. At one point between two positions as I was carrying her from one spot to another, guess what happened: I went floppy again.

Oh yes, you feel slightly alone in this situation. She was really cool about it and said “maybe you should change condom”. I went to the bathroom, took another condom, look at myself totally sweating in the mirror and thought there is a Latina dream girl waiting for you, what are you bloody doing? Come on!

Remember this scene from What women want when the character played by Mel Gibson is taking some time in the bathroom while the girl played by Marisa Tomei -Latina as well- is waiting for him? Well that was me.

I went back, kissed her, touched her great body, and I was ready to go again. When the sex ended, I let her recover on the sofa and went to the bathroom removing and throwing the condom etc. I was sweating, it had been intense, maybe too much for an old man like me. I was having mixed feelings: on one hand I was thinking what a great time with her, only daygame could have given me that. On the other hand you could have done better, you’re getting old. The weird feeling went away when back to the living room she jumped on me joyfully saying, “you’re good, can I take you in my luggage when I fly home?”

We chilled for a while then it was time for her to leave. As we were going down the stairs she jumped on my back. I walked the whole street carrying her. Why do I bother mentioning this detail in the story now that sex is over? Well those little things make me feel great, make me enjoy the feminine energy even more. A good sign that she feels good with me and can let go.

I took her to the train station and we agreed to meet later in Paris. Yes Paris. This wasn’t meant as a role-play joke: she was actually planning to be there for Fashion Week and me for work.

After she left we kept texting regularly, keeping it light and fun. For instance, as she was eating crepes in a restaurant I advised: “Choose a cider as you chose a man, have it brut, not sweet”.

We had agreed to meet on Tuesday in Paris. I had already forgotten one thing about her: there was no point planning an exact date and time in advance. When we texted after my arrival we realised my hotel was close to her Fashion Week party. It was around 1am and I was going to bed. She insisted I come over and give her a kiss good night. She was the spontaneous fun girl suggesting to meet last minute in the middle of the night and I was the logical guy thinking I’m tired, let’s stick to the plan, we can meet tomorrow. Being square is boring.

Eventually I went to meet her. She was waiting for me outside the venue, surrounded by other models who looked a bit bored. She gave me a warm welcome, I took her hand, we walked a few metres and ended up kissing passionately. She was sometimes biting my lips in a sexy way, under the rain, using her long fashionable coat as an umbrella. What a great moment, it made me feel a bit romantic, as in a movie. At this point, had I been a textbook player, I would have taken her back to my hotel for some more good time together before bringing her back to her party. But I think I was just happy how it was.

By the time I was back to my hotel she had sent me a few cute texts, we texted a bit again and I went to bed.

The next day I sensed that she would forget we had planned to meet. I sent an anti-flake text and with no surprise she texted back she had confused the dates and had a dinner to go to. I did not want to put any pressure. I was actually planning to meet my ex-girlfriend before dinner -we remained good friends after she got married and I was genuinely happy to see her and congratulate her. Since I wasn’t meeting Miss Latina we had plenty of time for a lovely dinner. Later when I was back to the hotel Miss Latina had texted me, we exchanged a few texts and I went to bed. The next day I was back to London and she was back to her motherland.

This had been a great mini-story, with a young and spontaneous pretty girl. She had exactly the kind of feminine energy that I like on top of being hot, she was fun, maybe a bit flaky -expected from a girl with options- and I didn’t get bored one single second with her. Again, I don't think I would have ever lived a story with a girl like that if it wasn’t for daygame.