We’re on the first day of the holiday, touching down in Malaga late morning and finally getting all our stuff together by early afternoon. We are totally shagged from the clubbing in London the night before so we have a “quick” nap. I collapse and barely stir until 7pm. We rustle ourselves into a group and head into the centre of town.

In front of the train station I open my first set, 2 seated HB6s. Very young looking but even I’m shocked when they say they are 14. Not that I was trying to close, it was just a warm up. Goes ok. Open another set as we alight in the main station and then a third outside. It’s just easy indirect stuff. We have local sherry in a traditional wine cellar and then I do my first proper set – 3 set of 18 yr olds. I open simple asking for directions, DHV a bit and then start to reward their IOIs. Tony T and Shameem have joined to wing and it really heats up.

The language is quite an obstacle but we make do. Tony is salsa spinning his target while Shameem is doing his usual intense eye contact thing. I’ve got the prettiest, a petite HB8 with a big cheesy smile.

HB8: How old are you?
Krauser: Too old for you
HB8: No, really. How old?
Krauser: Guess.
HB8: Thirty
Krauser: Very close.
HB8: How old do you think I am?
Krauser: Dunno. Stand up and give me a proper look at you
*she stands. I check her out head to toe*
Krauser: Turn around
*she turns around. Waits expectantly*
Krauser: 12

Just routine stuff like that. I lower-back lead her off a back street and the set follows. It’s really high energy and lots of smiling and laughing but there’s some underlying resistance. Tony T’s girl keeps asking for 5 euros fee for giving directions so I give her my Zimbabwean $100billion note. She puts it down her bra and tries to get Tony to take it. He’s not taking the bait.

About fifteen minutes in we sense it’s not going much further. Tony’s target shit tests us pretending to steal my money so he deliberately kills the mood by telling her off and showing paternal disapproval. She’s deflated and meekly gives back the money. We move on.

One of many sets that weekend

Now we are on the main shopping street which is lit up bright. I get a quick instant date (see other report). Coming back from that I see a 7-set of 18 yr olds giving what may be a promixity IOI to our group. So I open them. I think it was random shit. It hooks easy and I bring Wisdom into set on the pretext that he’s an awesome dancer and we need to find a club worthy of his new moves. Two of the girls really show interest, HB7s, and pretty much take us on the instadate.

We end up in a teeny-bopper club and things are interesting when the girls are waiting for drinks that we refuse to buy (I go to the bar and return with a JD&coke for me and one for Wisdom). We practice a few compliance tests and lock-ins. The girls start shit testing. Given their youth it has to be subconscious. They start dancing together just behind us – beta bait. Wisdom and I just talk about men stuff and give them barely a glance. So the girls try harder and hand me their camera to take pictures.

More beta bait. I take a few pictures of me and Wisdom, holding up a finger and admonishing them to wait. Then he jumps between them for a photo and I do the next one. Didn’t quite have the nerve to do my “zoom up onto the girls breasts” photo routine.

I decide to do a mild punishment / DHV and walk off and open a 3-set of Greeks who are further along the bar. Nice girls but I don’t hang around. It’s just to see the effect on the target set. We happen to bump into them a few hours later so its a warm set then.

They are doing the typical young-girl indecisive stuff and try to shit test us again – this time saying they’re going to meet their sister and come back in half an hour and can we look after their coats. I say no. Obviously. So I just take my target’s number and let them go.

Our crew has split into a few bars now so we meet up in a cougarish bar next door. Wisdom and Lee do a good set and then Jambone and I head back to the shopping street to do some day game. It’s still target-rich. I stop an absolute stunner. Quite likely a 10. But she can’t speak English at all. Her manner is lovely and she shows interest but there’s no way to take it forward and she moves on. Virtually right after Jambone opens another 10. He does it right in front of a seated 3-set of young HB7s who watch with intense interest. I use that as my opener: “Watch this, it’ll be really interesting”.

Jambone has the same langage barrier but the girl’s sub communication shows it would’ve been on if they’d been able to understand each other. He comes to wing my set – playing up the “She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen” love struck angle. And it’s half true too. This set is ok but they are clearly waiting for someone – boyfriends we find out but by then we are already in the next set.

Saturday 28th November. I am woken from drunken sleep at 9am by HB8 Romanian, the girl from the recent “Instant Date in Westfield” post. We’ve been out a few times since, so perhaps I should recap……

HB8 Romania

After that instant date, we swap a few texts and then meet on a Sunday afternoon in central London for a Day 2. First thing I do is kiss her, wanting to set the tone. I’m sick of being LJBF’d by delaying kino. I lead her towards Carnaby Street and we go past Ann Summers. I pull her in and future project the kind of lingerie she’ll be wearing for me. It’s slightly awkward but works. Then we get to The Diner for a milkshake. It’s the perfect venue cos we’re settled into a dark booth sitting side by side. She loves the milkshake. Then we go to a nearby pizza restaurant. It’s all normal comfort building with a few attraction spikes. Only thing of note is when the bill comes:

HB8: *gets out purse* I’ll pay my share
Krauser: Yeah, I agree.

We walk hand in hand through Soho looking for a pub but it’s a wierd night. Lots of them are closed and the few open onces are rammed. I lead her through a back alley, throw her against the wall and get a makeout. First time. She enthusiastically falls into it and the nagging LJBF danger disappates. I find a good pub. As we sit together she relaxes entirely, leaning into me and stretching her feet out, playing with my fingers and generally accepting the feminine role. I remind myself that this girl is tall, hot and leads a team of 19 people in a bank. And here she is playing besotted schoolgirl to me.

Six hours in she has to drive home. Logistics are horrible cos she lives way out West and works their too. No chance of her staying the night, not with my current level of game. I throw her into a phone box and makeout. My phone vibrates with an incoming text, so I take it out my pocket and hold it against her chuff. She responds with a mixed pleasure and shocked honour. The latter carries the day.

Day 3 is a major DHV. We run a successful entourage night at a top club. Fifteen girls and five guys, including a HB9 Playboy model that Burto brings. I take HB8 to the pub and we are first there, so get the best corner seats. Gradually over the next half hour everyone turns up, all greeting me like the tribal leader, until we have absolutely taken over the bar. Last of all comes HB8 Indian for the first time I’ve seen her since the Starbucks number close. Imagine what she thinks as she walks in! We bounce to the club, all on the guest list for free, and the remainder of the night I have HB8 Romanian, HB8 Indian and HB7 Spaniard competing for me.

HB8 Indian

HB7 Spaniard

I take HB8 Romanian back to her car and she drops me off at Trafalgar Square for my late night bus. It’s a Thursday night. Getting off the bus at 3am I text HB7 Spaniard, who has a habit of getting the wrong bus and generally being led astray:

Krauser: Don’t get murdered
HB7: Ok, justin my way to get murdered…. At least im sober!
Krauser: Cool. I’m nearly home
HB7: Ur a bastard, i was assuming i would crash at ur place! This and the retarded [I kept calling her a retard]….. Im not ur friend anymore!
Krauser: You can. Get the [bus number] from [bus stop]. Call me.

She calls and is keen to come to my place. I’ve majorly DHV’d this night, remember.

HB7: Ok, im getting to [bus stop]
Krauser: Cool

Various texts follow over the next hour where basically the bus doesn’t come, she lets her own bus go by three times, and then figures out she’s at the wrong bus stop. I tell her to get a taxi. She arrives, jumps into my bed. Then it gets wierd.

She cuddles up to me, I go for the makeout (never even kiss closed her so far). She resists. I caveman, she relents. Heavy makeout. She resists every step of the way but every now and then when she thinks I can’t see she has a beaming smile. When I go to touch her chuff the LMR seems real not token, so I don’t push it. Next morning is more of the same but this time she dress up in three different costumes I have in my wardrobe (Japanese school uniform, the red one from Evangelion, and the french maid – in case you’re interested). I call in sick for work.

Day 4 with HB8 Romanian is the following Sunday. It’s crappy weather. She is ten minutes late so I go to a nearby Starbucks and she meets me there. As soon as she can, she’s stretching out and leaning into me, playing with my fingers again. She doesn’t want to leave. I take her along the South Bank by the river and it’s dark so the lights are awesome. I stop her a couple of times for a makeout but don’t go all horny-teenager on her. Then to a pub by the river. I escalate the sex talk and do The Stone.

What’s The Stone?

Krauser: Blah blah blah
*grabs her hand, puts it on my cock and..*
Krauser: This is how you make me feel
*puts her hand back*
Krauser: Blah blah blah

She giggles, calls me a pervert, and for the rest of the night keeps saying things like “You’re such a pervert. I should be careful”. We walk back to my house on the pretext of a nice Chinese restaurant nearby. As I get her to the door I try the Mystery comfort routine – invite her in just for a minute then go out again. She won’t even come to the door. Bizarre.

So we go to the restaurant. After food, we are a bit sleepy from digestion. I hold her hand over the table, footsie underneath, and just stare intensly at her. My voices deepends and slows, and I start pacing her reality.

Krauser: You can feel the heavieness of the warm food in your belly. The heat is spreading out, up through your chest, down your arms to your fingers. It’s a pleasant sleepy feeling. You feel safe and content etc etc

She’s totally in a trance. As we go to leave I sense some change in the atmosphere. I suddenly feel like I’m being judged. Like she’s weighing up an important decision on my worthiness. It’s subtle and I can’t explain it. I walk her past my house again because that’s the way to the station. I make no attempt to bring her in – I just point it out as we walk by. She’s talking about how she has to get up early tomorrow and she’s not sure where to change trains and blah blah blah.

At the station we kiss goodnight at the barriers. She seems tense.

Krauser: Fuck it, I’ll come down to the platform and make sure you get the right train.
HB8: *smiles, hugs* Thank you!

Down at the platform she’s being tense again and reconfirming where to change trains.

Krauser: *checks watch*. OK, I’ll come as far as [interchange station, 3 stops away]. You’ll just get lost.

And fuckin’ hell was I surprised by the response. All of the tenseness dissolves, she breaks out into a huge beaming grin, and jumps me. She’s hugging, dotting kisses all over my face, and just oblivious to everyone else there. I know I just passed a major test. Once we get to the interchange I decide to lock down this impression

Krauser: Right-ho. Text me when you’re home so I don’t have to send the police looking for you
(text) HB8: I enjoyed this day/evening, safely in my warm and cosy room now.

Friday 27th November and I’m at a house party in central London thrown by a group of Eastern European student girls. We are invited but its a weak connection – Wisdom number closed the host ten months ago and hasn’t really seen her since but she asked him to bring some guys. Everyone has to wear a wig.

First thing I do is walk up to a four set of girls and introduce myself. Girl number 2 (Latvian HB7) is my target for the night. I can’t think of any funny thing to say on the spot so I neg Girl 4 (English HB6)

Krauser: Hi, I’m Krauser. And you are?
HB6: Hi, I’m HB6
Krauser: You are awfully posh *stands back, cocks head, looks quizzically, still holding her hand* I’ll bet you’re from the South-East. And you’ve got private school manners.
HB6: Heeheeheee. No! How did you guess *starts qualifying*

Within a minute I accomplishment-intro my wing:

Krauser: Burto, come here a second. I’ve got some people who should meet you
Burto: Hey girls!
Krauser: This is a good friend of mine Burto. He’s the only person I know to run naked through Red Square.
Girls: Heeheehee wow etc
* introduce girls, and he shakes hands in turn*
Krauser: This is HB8. This is HB7. This is HB7. And this is…..erm……erm….. Posh Girl
HB6: Heehee. No! *playful punch*

The party is mostly in the lounge area. About 25 people, 15 of them girls, half of them sarge-worthy but no stunners. I do an extended run with the target, alternating between C&F and comfort building. She hooks good and qualifies like crazy.

HB7 Latvia

Krauser: This wig works for you [it’s a pink bob]
HB7: Thank you
Krauser: Come here, I’ll show you *isolates her in hallway in front of mirror, sits her down and sits behind*
HB7: Teehee
Krauser: You’ve got distinction eyes. Having the fringe come down low like this *brushes her fringe* really brings that out. It was the first thing that caught my attention.
HB7: *flirty eyes, smiling, enjoying the kino*
Krauser: Then the bottom curls in like this, right at the end of your smile. You’ve got a good smile.
HB7: *beaming smile*
Krauser: But unfortunately it brings out your Bugs Bunny cheeks. They’re kinda cute though.

Plenty of fun. Other things like I’m talking to the target and her friend in the kitchen:

Krauser: So if you were both lesbians, would you be cool lesbians like in pornos, or manly bull dykes like in real life?
Girls: Oh, we’d be the cool lesbians *look at each other and pout*
* Big tall girl overhears and comes over, stands in front of me looking serious*
Butch: I’m a lesbian. That’s offensive.
Krauser: *state control, decides she’s fucking with me* But are you a cool lesbian? I only like cool lesbians.
Butch: *grins* I’m soooo cool *laughs*

I do a few AMOGs on the other guys. One young lad is on the sofa with three girls around him. I go over, shake his hand, pull him up, turn him around and steal his seat. He wanders off and the girls stay.

I number close the target about an hour in. Burto tells me I should do more comfort because the attraction is locked in but unfortunately the opportunity never quite comes up and we leave soon after. Other interesting parts to the night:

Hot girl was supposed to come this party with me (had already accepted). The HB8 Indian from the earlier Starbucks post. On the night before, at precisely the time I know she’s meeting friends in a bar before going to a club, she texts me:

HB8: Hi krauser, I can’t make it on fri, family duties
Krauser: (10pm the next night, at the party) Ok
HB8: (one hour later) Lol did u only just get that? And we should def meet up soon!

That follows the Roissy rule on flakes. If a girl flakes, don’t respond until five minutes before you were due to meet. It shows alpha indifference and gives her a trigger to make up with you.

Wisdom and I were walking through the pouring rain at 3am to get a late night bus home when three french girls open us, asking for a good club. We bounce them immediately but one is cockblocking so I number close HB7 French. We’ve swapped a couple texts since.

Following Tuesday I decide to reopen the HB7 Latvian with text game:

Krauser: [Name]. Just looked you up on Facebook. Didn’t find you. [Surname], right? Krauser
HB7 (2min later): Salut! =) you got the surname right, just my name is spelled with an “s” [name]
* three hours pass*
Krauser: Ok. I’ll look again. Help me out – make your FB profile that silly pink wig, then I’ll recognise you 😉
HB7 (10min later): Haha, this is a huge drawback of meeting people in wig/costume, it’s impossible to recognise them after. =)

Looks solid right? That night I search and get zero matches in Facebook. So I text:

Krauser: No matches. Hmmmmmm. Search [my email] and add me.

Two days later she adds me.