October 10, 2012 13 Comments
First night in Zagreb is a thunderstorm. Excited teenagers huddle under shop awnings as their Sunday night plans are washed away. I head out to my favourite restaurant for steak and spend the rest of the night at my apartment, chatting on Facebook. Things unexpectedly perk up. Not only does my top girl confirm our Monday evening meeting but another cold lead, a stunningly beautiful Audrey Hepburn-alike, hits me up out of nowhere with “Hey, I see from your status you’re in Zagreb. Sorry I never replied to your messages but I don’t like Facebook chat. Do you want to meet?”. Fuck yeah, she’s a solid nine. I can’t stress enough how much she looks like Audrey Hepburn. It’s not a mere resemblance, she’s a spitting double. I hail mary all the other vaguely-warm Zagreb leads in my phonebook and get four responses out of ten but logistics eventually puts them all on the backburner.
Monday lunchtime Audrey shows up and we spend five hours drinking coffee, then whiskey and finally rum. It’s a funny old date. There’s no question she fancies me but I can feel a barrier and know it’s not on. Deep rapport is perfect and within two hours we are strongly connected and sharing alot of our identities. I really like this girl. But the kino isn’t there, she isn’t reciprocating the verbal escalation and she deftly maintains social distance. This presents something of a quandry. I can’t smoothly escalate but nor can I allow this date to end without making an unambiguous statement of intent. She has to know she’s dealing with a man, not a wuss. So three hours in I make my big move. I’m waiting for a hypnotic scanning moment but several times it almost happens and then she breaks it off just before it gets intense. So next time it happens I just tell her:
- Me: I want to kiss you now
- Her: You shouldn’t try
- Me: *vacuum eyes*
- Her: I can tell you why, if you want
- Me: Tell me
She launches into a long explanation about how she does find me attractive and if I’d done this earlier in the year she’d have had sex with me but at the moment she’s hung up on her ex boyfriend and trying to get him back. Harumph! She orders another drink and I just go back to rapport and framing. My best bet is this is 50-50, when logistics clear. That’s better than the 0% I rated it 24 hours earlier. But we say our goodbyes and my mind quickly turns to Vampira (I’ll let a picture of her lookalike explain it)
She’s smoking hot. Properly jaw-dropping sultry beauty in a little ballerina-sized body. Imagine a slavic version of Penelope Cruz in From Dusk Till Dawn. Now this is how it looks when a girl is up for it! We meet in a whiskey bar at 8pm and she’s dolled up well and immediately giving me the eye. She’s in the fashion industry and looks it, dressed like a comic book siren. So I settle into my drink and just let things unfold. She’s knocking the vodka back fast. I know what that means. I hold position and let her come to me. Within an hour she’s climbing over me in the bar so I start looking towards extracting her. She insists on showing me a nearby bar which serves a blueberry liquor (tasty, as it happens) and agrees to the short five minute walk to my apartment giving herself the pretext that she wants to watch the Mad Max 1 rerun that starts two hours later. Pretty quickly she’s topless on my bed and I start breaking down the LMR.
It’s here that something just clicks into place mentally. I suddenly figure out what it is about this girl (and other previous girls) that I really liked sexually versus the girls who I quickly tired of. Vampira has a tight little ballerina’s body but her hips and breasts are almost bursting out of her clothes. They aren’t big per se but there’s a buxom quality to her proportions and skin tone. The closest analogy I can conjure is to imagine an inflated beachball. When fully (perhaps over-) inflated the rubber is struggling to contain the air pushing against it from inside and it takes on a tight stretched look with all the wrinkles pushed out of it. In a girl this is like smooth vibrant skin with good subcuteous fat and strong curves. The girl seems totally in bloom. This I like. Vampira had such a tight young body I was slavering like a hungry wolf. In contrast Myrka looked great in clothes but once they came off she had a slightly deflated look. The taut stretchy vibrance just wasn’t there. And that, dear readers, drains me of the will to fuck a girl.
I made a mental note of it then started biting her ass. “Harder, leave marks” she purrs.
Just as I start yanking her tights down she tells me “I promised myself I wouldn’t go that far tonight”, and that’s that. I set her hindbrain against it but she’s not budging. So we roll around a bit having our jollies but I’m gonna have to wait another date to fuck her. Harumph!
Next day I drink coffee and fly home to the land of ugly women. God save the queen.