I’ve been in Serbia a little less than a week and feeling properly run down. Yesterday’s escapades (post coming) were great fun but left me with a minging hangover, blue balls, and less than three hours sleep…. and suddenly it’s Saturday which ought to be the best day. Robusto and I do a few half-arsed opens mid-afternoon but there’s not much to shoot at and our heart isn’t in it anymore. I’ve been ground down having spent a week or two in each of Lithuania, Croatia, Turkey, Bosnia and Serbia without a night in my own bed back in glorious London.

My cute Serbian librarian starts missing me and decides she does actually need a revision break and would love to meet me for coffee at 8pm. I tell her to wear a dress so I can see her legs and to style her hair down. She follows instructions admirably. This girl is really falling hard for me, giving me a carefully chosen book as a leaving present, her favourite bookmark and an inscription of romantic poetry. She’s adorable too, fitting my newly-defined type exactly – exotic look, introverted, thoughtful, innocent. I know pulling her home is too soon so I just fingerfuck her in the cafe and say my goodbyes. She gets parked into long game and a possible import.

Banged a high six version of this

The main reason I cut that date short is because my Hail Mary text to yesterday’s SDL-near miss results in a 10pm date. I’d already told her I want to fuck her so there’s no question what’s up. She’s either DTF or wants me to validate her all night and it’s up to me to figure out which.

We have drinks in one of the many pavement cafes then I move her on to a bar near my apartment. It’s on. Easy, really. She downs a couple of vodkas then tells me she doesn’t want to go to an apartment I share with other men but will happily take a cab home to her own apartment where she lives alone. So we go. It’s effortless, all the work having been done the day before. Afterwards I cab it back. I’d put her as a high six, probably late-twenties.

I get my Serbian flag, +1, regain F-town. Sometimes it’s that simple.

Team Krauser has been out in Sarajevo for a few days, mainly because Jimbo is obsessed with the place and wanted to do the night train from Zagreb. I’ve had a week in Turkey visiting a girl then I roll in 9pm on Friday night. Apparently it’s impossible to get laid in Sarajevo…. according to this guy on the internet:

“Leave – ASAP! Let me be frank. Just forget Serbia, as well as Bosnia and Croatia.

You will never get any girl from there, if you are aiming above 3 in grade out of 10 (and I guess most of us aim for at least 7 or .

I have lived there, studied there, know the language, been there almost ten times now, know their songs, their culture, their politics, whatever, and also have some kind of network there.

But, their women – just forget it. Their culture, their society, will not allow it.

What we will be offered, if not living there for like 20 years, and really play their slooow game, is “kaka”, that is shit. So, no need to read any more threads about the former republics of Yugoslavia. Just get your bag and leave! If you are there hunting women, so to speak.”

I’m pretty sure that sex and tourism forums are where the high value men hang out. Probably George Clooney and Cary Grant have a few posts on which Serbian dive bars to find grotty 6s….. but I digress. There’s no question Yugoslavia is a difficult place to get laid if you are after high quality non-slutty locals and only in town a couple of weeks. Sarajevo is an order of magnitude harder than Zagreb. Bhodi goes so far as to offer a bet that he’ll drink a glass of his own cum if one of us fucks a Bosnian non-rotter in Sarajevo. Stakes are too high for me seeing we only expect a long weekend here.

Not easy

So Friday night rolls around, I’ve been in town only a few hours when we hit the bars. Jimbo and Robusto get into a really good set with two beauties, girls who’d turn heads in every London club and it’s going great until the inevitable friction…. both in serious relationships to local guys and just not willing to cheat. This isn’t the UK. When girls say that here it means something. So the boys eject and we try to find a club on the first day of Ramadan. It’s pretty dead. We end up downstairs in some rubbishy nightclub playing folk dance music. There’s only ten people and only one set – four girls of whom two are pretty hot. Robusto and I are figuring out how to open when some Spanish guy opens me and brings his Bosnian girlfriend over. Just friendly people wanting to chat so I reciprocate knowing it’s making me look social. But then the girls leave.

This is where I become something of a cunt and break the hallowed wing rules. Robusto follows them out and opens before they can jump in a taxi. The set has a weak hook but hook nonetheless. As I sidle up some gypsy beggar boy slides into the middle to hijack it. I fucking hate gypsies. Really despise them. Robusto proceeds to neutralise him while I notice the prettiest girl is looking at me alot and has the “up for it” vibe. I eyefuck her ragged and chat about nonsense, tooling her and being a dick. I hear Robusto in the background calling me a goblin (code for set-stealing) with steam coming out his ears. One week of blueballs, several hours of cocktails, and a hot Krauser girl returning my eyefucking…. I just don’t care. I steamroller the set and shut him out.

This is diabolical behaviour. I have no excuse at all. After taking her number I get a well deserved dressing down from Jimbo while Robusto mostly just calls me a cunt. There’s no answer to it.

A high seven version of this

It’s a hot lead. Text chat goes well and at 5pm on Saturday I meet her for drinks, already halfcut from cocktails with Jimbo the previous two hours. Conversation goes great. My date game is focused and on point so she keeps cooing “you’re so self confident”. That’s the best thing you can hear from a girl until “do you have a condom?” She takes me to the best little cafe in Sarajevo, real Austro-Hungarian style place, and I just know its on. I do my usual verbal escalation. Things like:

• Sorry, I just looked at your breasts. I’ll keep my eyes up
• I can see you are very introverted. I like it. You can really focus your attention and make interesting conversation
• When you go to the bathroom I’m gonna check you out. [when she comes back I stare at her legs and give an approving nod]
• I’m going to kiss you in the next bar

These have a dual function as compliance tests. If the girl doesn’t want to fuck, she’ll block or evade. Instead I was getting smiles, thanks, reciprocal compliments, and good sexual tension. Finally two hours in I kiss her on the street, planning to do one more bar but my spidersense tells me she’s ready to extract. So I suggest mixing cocktails. She’s easy about going to my house or back to her flat. When she tells me she lives alone I realise that’s better than trying to text three buddies and have them desert my apartment. Also, I want to fuck her in a soviet era block… my little fuck you to Socialism.

Back in the house it seems like plain sailing with the usual music, youtube videos and vodka oranges to get her ready. We makeout and I gradually escalate when the inevitable LMR comes up. This is Sarajevo not London. She puts her bra back on and I have to lean back for a while. With most girls there are a couple of key moments in the escalation where doing the wrong thing will set you back an hour or two by triggering ASD. I spot this one and just change the subject, put new music on and let her lean into me. My vibe works well and twenty minutes later I’ve got her top off again. I finger fuck her to orgasm but get more LMR. So another step back and we sit in the kitchen chatting, her sitting on my leg. Another half hour and now there’s time pressure because her friends are due around. We go back to the lounge and I’ve pretty much accepted the moment is gone… I’ll have to close tomorrow and risk her not contacting me. Bugger.

And then it all turns. I sense her horniness. Finally the hindbrain has overpowered the forebrain and she really wants to fuck. The clearest non-verbal signal a girl will give you that she’s finally ready to fuck (after a few knock backs) is she’ll proactively grab your cock and start rubbing it. Almost a 100% sign. So I push her over, pull the strides down and get my cock in her. +1.

Three minutes later her doorbell rings and I have to pull out with blue balls. It’s physically painful for the rest of the night. It’s about 10pm so I chat to her friend and then taxi home to join the gang. Got my lay but a bit unsatisfied. Bhodi weasels out of drinking his own cum on a technicality. I consider replying to the chode forum post above. I’ve knobbed a local Sarajevan good girl in less than 24 hours in the city. Surely I deserve a medal.

That’s me on the ninth floor, third left

I can’t gloat because it should’ve been Robusto with his dick in her. So my mission tonight is to make right my bad behaviour. The town is much busier on Saturday and it’s easy to open some sets and let him take over. Nothing really sticks, same old story. Hot girls, good conversation, plenty of attraction but overbearing social pressure cockblocking it. Around midnight my girl texts to say she’s in Hacienda bar with her friends and would we like to join? I remember she said her blonde friend (a solid seven) is a dirty ho so I figure I can strike off my debt. My girl has clearly been spending the past few hours sharing her story with her friends and DHVing us by proxy so when we roll up this blonde immediately fancies Robusto.

We run the set for an hour or two and he pairs off into isolation and dirty talks the blonde. He winks and lets me know its on. So I suggest a four-handed drinking party back at the girl’s flat and we taxi there. It’s a done deal. After a drink in the lounge we pair off. While I’m fucking my girl over her chest of drawers I get the “F-town” text. Nice one. I finish my girl off and dump another week’s work of cum on her tits, in her eyes and up her nose.

Lovely girl. She tells me her Number is “much lower than ten” and this is her first chance to tick the “get taken home by new guy” and “fuck foreign guy” checkboxes. Bhodi refuses the drinking the glass a second time.

It’s same-day-lay time, my favourite time of the week! I’m out in Zagreb with the usual cunts and a couple of students. It’s been a funny week. For some reason we’ve been at each other’s throats non stop with brutal amogging and state-leeching. It’s out of character for a group of guys who are usually such a finely-honed team. I’m guessing Jimbo has invested too much of his dreams in it and Robusto is still on a comedown from his big Central American jaunt. Whatever it is, it’s not been pretty.

Yesterday I binned the lot of them and went solo, desperately trying to recover my vibe. We’ve been really fucked over by logistics too – pretty much every girl we talked to was a day or two away from adjourning to the seaside foe weeks. Crushing. Under a normal (London) state of affairs I’d have been laid four times already but things just vanished… like Keyser Shose.

So, on to today. We make a real mental effort to cut the negativity and boost each other’s state. I leave the lunchtime restaurant buzzing. And I mean buzzing. I feel indestructable. I could fuck the Queen I’m so high on vibe. If you gave my vibe to Mehow even he would get laid. I’m walking down the street shooting six-guns from my fingers, hopping up and down, singing to myself. I do a couple of sets. Nothing solid but good reactions and a solid number. I’m doing high quality work so I just need to find an available girl who is into me. Not long before I get to the train station the girl appears. Eighteen, Czech, slim, a bit punky, and cracking tits. I’m not letting this vibe go to waste so I pounce.

It’s a solid ten minutes. I know she fancies me. Suddenly all the SDL planets align. She’s just arrived in Zagreb an hour ago, her mum doesn’t know she’s here, she just wants a look around for a day… she’s got nothing better to do. Her eyelids bat, she giggles at some jokes and suddenly she’s on an idate with me. I text Jimbo to keep the apartment clear and find the F-town tags.

I feel the vibe, spider-sense tingling. It’s hard to put my finger on the details but she’s kinda chill, putting up no obstacles, and when I throw out a couple of feelers (“Sorry, I was just looking at your breasts”…. “I like your ass. Let me have another look”) she takes them without blocking. She orders tequila and lets herself get a little drunk. This is clearly a girl who wants me to fuck her so I ramp it up a little with the “what’s the craziest thing you ever did” for which mine is Robusto’s Havana story, with me in the leading role.

When I go inside to pay the bill I tell her “this is your chance to escape. if you are still here when I come back I shall assume you like me.” On the way to the second bar I tell her she is in danger of being kissed at some point this afternoon, and when she asks what type of victim she will be I reply “sexual”. These are green lights. Next bar I kiss her and she’s massively into it so from this point its just a case of managing the forebrain/LMR and leading her to my flat. We get a taxi and I babble forebrain distraction bullshit just to be on the safe side.

Back in the flat it’s quickly sexual but she gets the wobbles, saying she’s on the rag. I ask if she’s done anal and that freaks her a little. So I have to sit her down and appease the hamster for ten minutes until her hindbrain overules it and she’s back on me. Cock in mouth, then ass, and it’s done. +1, new flag, and most important of all F-town

I dump 2 weeks of unused cum over her face and tits. Poor girl. I put her at a mid-seven.

Robusto recently unearthed a great bar in London which gets alot of foreign students so we’ve been down there the past two weeks. One of the arguments in favour of daygame is that you don’t have to deal with the energy-sapping problems of London bars, namely:

1. Fat ugly English girls
2. Loud music that prevents comfortable conversation
3. Stand-offish behaviour from girls when you open

All those problems miraculously disappeared in this bar cos it was teeming with young fresh new foreign girls really keen to talk in English and the music is dailed right down. Beauty. I walk in with Bhodi about 8pm and we immediately install ourselves at the bar to “build our vibe” by talking animatedly to each other, ignoring the room, and not value-scanning. Pretty soon we catch girls looking over at us. It’s a bit cock-heavy tonight but there’s a cute little Spanish brunette standing right infront of me talking to a Mexican and a Turkish orbiter. During a high point of banter between Bhodi and I she turns her head and gives me a look, then repeats it about thirty seconds later. Clearly she’s tiring of dealing with the omnipresence orbiter game and quite intrigued by me. So I open with something really lame:

“Let me see. You’re both Spanish and you are…. Turkish?”

That simple. The guys don’t realise I’m about to steal the girl and she gets animated really quick. Her English is painfully bad but she’s trying hard, bless her. I get the Mexican dude to translate everything for me so he’s soon removed from contention as I get him to pass on my teases and DHVs to her. It’s all polite and I’m sure to include the Turk guy too because they are pleasant people and I don’t want to be a dickhead, plus I want to make the Spaniard work.

Like this, but a bit smaller

A side-benefit is I’m locked in at the bar with a horseshoe around me dancing to my tune. That’s something I picked up off Jimbo. I spend about half an hour running textbook bargame before rolling off and finding Robusto elsewhere in the bar. I know all my work is done and just need to go back to collect contact details. Another half hour passes and I see that as see moved her orbiters trailed behind. I say “it was a pleasure to meet you all, I’ll see you around” knowing full well how Spaniard will respond:

“Do you have Facebook? I have skype too! Here’s my phone number. And can we take a photo?”

Looking promising but there’s time pressure. She has one week in London and I’m leaving for the continent too. She opens me that night with a Skype video chat so I let it run for an hour of consulting google translate, letting the comfort build, seeing how hard she’s investing. Then a morning chat and I slot her into my dating calendar for the evening.

Immediately upon meeting, near her place, I know it’s on. Not necessarily one for that night, but she’s a horny young thing who has fuck energy bubbling underneath everything she does. We make out and she’s soon climbing all over me in the bar. One thing I really enjoy is having the girl chase, so I lean back and act like a dickhead, pushing her away with a cad’s grin on my face. Nineteen year old and horny means she loves it. But she won’t fuck….

The next day she tells me she’s only had sex with one guy before, who she was in a relationship for two years with and turned down his marriage proposal. Apparently they only had sex towards the middle of the second year and she’s barely done it…. hmmmm… I do seem to attract the inexperienced girls. So over the next three days I meet her once more in a pub, once back at my house and I gradually progress to having her semi-naked on my bed. It’s tortuous stuff and if I’d known how long it would take I might’ve passed up on it, but in for a penny in for a pound I think.

Fourth night and before she comes round I tell her that if I see her again I’ll fuck her. She knows its her last chance with me and after an hour of canoodling and several half-hearted “we aren’t having sex” protests, I have my cock in her. It’s crappy sex too. She’s totally inexperienced and as tight as a budgie’s arse. It’s a physical struggle to get in there and the poor girl is in some discomfort throughout. She takes it like a trooper, bless her. Then an hour later I bundle her into a taxi and return to Dark Souls.

+1 but not very memorable. She wants to go onto my import roster but I’m not sure.

This lay is interesting to post up because of how unusual the girl is and it’s an example of pipelining. I hit her up on a dating site as one of many mails thrown out and score a big direct hit with my opening message (as she later related to me):

I realise later she is a bit crazy and considers her hair her best feature. She sends me a long enthusiastic reply and I gradually pilot her into a date on our second day in her city. I’ve appended a sample of the messages (skipping about 50% of it).

Jambone and I roll up in our sartorial elegance threads for a date with her in a lounge bar then proceed to drop DHV after DHV, all while making a big deal of being English gentleman. The women find themselves compared to various kinds of wildlife and constantly admonished to make sandwiches and know their place. We move on to walk around the old town and Jambone nicely stalls the best friend to give me valuable isolation to build deep rapport. We end the date there satisfied to be somewhere in C2.

Next night I meet her late one on one and now it’s proper date game. She’s very bookish and intelligent, into all her philosophy and (unfortunately) esoteric mystical stuff. It’s pretty harmless, just her way of understanding the world. She gives me a moonstone to keep near my heart to absorb bad energy or somesuch. After a couple of drinks she comes back to my hostel room but is flightly on kino and sits at the edge of the bed. After an hour or so I walk her halfway home and she’s weird about the kiss. Just standing there with lips tight together but not trying to get away. Similar to what I had on my first day with the Kazhak/Finn. Just for lulz I test her by grabbing her tits and ass. She’s fine with it. Bizarre. I put it down to intimacy issues and let it go. While she gives me a long tight hug goodnight she tells me I “can see her so well I feel naked” and “what you said was like a bullet in my head” and other things showing unexpectedly deep rapport.

We leave her town the next morning but stay in Facebook contact. Jambone reckons I should be able to bang her next time. A week later we roll back into town and I’ve framed her for a night of drinking where she supplies the wine and me the whiskey. I’ve already decide that come what may I shall caveman her once in isolation.

This but with an overbite that drops her down a point or two

We have a few whiskeys in a bar and she lets slip how obsessed she’s been with me. I’m irresistable to women, better than her in every way, nobody has ever made her feel how I do etc. I take these as IOIs. I walk her around a while then back to my room. Now there’s no rush. Jambone makes himself scarce while we watch Black Sabbath then I make the big move.

It takes longer than I expect. She’s putting up token resistance at every step. Jambone is freezing himself walking the town to give me isolation and eventually comes back to lock himself in the communal toilet with his laptop and an electric heater. That’s the only reason he’s written some blogposts. Finally she’s naked in my bed and I get my cock in. Once I’ve got my two strokes in F-Town belongs to me. She’s crying at first (really) saying she resisted because she’s worried if she puts out she’ll never see me again. But then her blood rises and she becomes an absolute hellcat in bed. Fuck me, it was like a space hopper fucking a kangaroo on a trampoline.

Jambone keeps texting asking me to hurry up. I figure a couple of pints the next night will pacify him. A few days later on facebook I ask her about the night. She tells me…

An I've stopped soul collecting....

I wake up bright and early with the newly acquired F-town dogtags around my neck. Life is good. The bright welcome sounds of my laptop greet me as I check my mail. Oh dear, Robusto has stolen the title while I slept, the sneaky fat aussie cunt. The sky suddenly darkens outside.

Later in the evening I come back from muay thai training with Bhodi and we turn our scooters into the final approach home. There’s a small massage parlour so I park up and decide to get the kinks of training kneaded out of my muscles to avoid tomorrow’s aches. Bhodi says “there’s a nice bird works there.” Indeed there is. It’s 11pm and an early 30s slightly MILFy bird is starting to close up shop, alone. I enquire whether there’s time for a massage and she assents.

Note at this moment I have zero intent. It’s not even on my mind. I’ve been having massages every night after training so this is just more of the same.

What my friends think I got

For the first half hour I recline on the futon with my eyes shut and don’t say a word. The woman busies herself digging thumbs into pressure points and grinding her elbow against my muscles. Maybe I’m kidding myself but my spider-sense is tingling. Something about her manner isn’t quite right. She seems to be putting too much of her body into contact with mine. It’s not sexual but it’s vaguely sensual. I pay it little mind. She starts to make light conversation which I reciprocate. Then towards the last ten minutes we are talking more so I drop in light DHVs reflexively. She compliments me on my “strong shoulders”. Hmmmmm.

She finishes and I’m still thinking nothing of it. It’s midnight and we’re both tired. She sits down on a futon next to me and makes small talk. I’m reading her for IODs to see if she signals me to leave so she can close up shop but they never come. So I put a calm vibe on her and gradually take control of the conversation. Before long she’s showing me photos of her family and saying she’ll sleep in the parlour tonight because her house is 40km away. It’s never awkward but it’s all inappropriate for a customer-client frame. Something is afoot.

What the internet thinks I got

So I escalate slightly by giving her a light shoulder massage. Then I suggest showing her my puppies my photos on my laptop at my room (less than 100m away). Thus begins a pattern of two-steps-forwards-one-step-back that continues for the next hour. She initially demurs then agrees, then as I put my shoes on and start going she demurs again before following five minutes later. At my room she sits on the corner of the bed while I put on facebook and spotify. I know she’s up for it but clearly wanting to be pressed so that she can tell herself it “just happened”.

After ten minutes in my room she rebuffs the first two kisses in a half-arsed display of chastity then takes the third. I’ve long since figured out how she wants to be seduced so I just move it along gently but firmly until she’s rubbing my cock and I know it’s a done deal. She’s a decent lay. Then she excuses herself and walks back to her shop. I don’t even pay for the massage.

What I felt I was getting

I fire off an email to Robusto to request he unburden himself of the tags which he no longer has a right to wear.

This lay is what I would call a “George”, after my new Greek buddy who has stacked his adulthood with over a hundred such lays. There was no game per se. I just went on with my business and allowed my spider-sense to pick up signals when a girl was in the right mood at the right time. Then I just laid my vibe on her, relaxed, and gently moved it forwards. Every one of you probably has twenty of these experiences where you failed to spot the signals and thus nothing happened. And this is an unexpected reward of following the game route – you pick up such good calibration in the process of opening thousands of girls that when a lay just walks right up to you, you are able to spot it and let it happen.

Add ten years and you have her double

Learning points

• Be aware of the signals around you that girls give off. You might not be on the pull, but she might be horny and into you.
• When you meet the right girl in the right mood, you just have to let the lay happen
• This was two hours from meet to lay, including one hour for the massage. Don’t be psyched out when things move fast. As this one built up speed I was thinking “whoa, is it really falling into my lap so easily?” I could’ve fucked it up if I’d stuck too close to my model on what should happen.

Sometimes getting laid is astonishingly easy. This one was three hours from meet to sex but to be fair I still followed the model to eliminate unnecessary fuck ups on what was basically a slamdunk. It all begins when I decide to try pipelining ahead of my visit to Thailand. Robusto and JJ are dab hands at online game, so much so they should probably write a book on it, so I just plaguarise the fat man’s profile and copy JJ’s message principle of “push-pull-push”. With less than three hours since sign-up I’m pinging messages with a dozen ladies.

The cream of asia, yesterday

Now lets be straight, these ladies are not the cream of Asia. While not as old and hideous as an English website, the girls are firmly clustered around the 5-7 band but as we well know an Asian seven is often very very pleasant company. I move a few of the girls over to my facebook and Skype. There’s tons of filipinos (which is little use to me) but I add them too to experiment with hassling ’em for naked photos. Here’s the full set of messages of the bird I banged:

Me: Hey sweetie. I’m headed to [thai city] next week and I’ll be making new friends. I have a vacancy for a fun, crazy, cute local girl to laugh at my jokes and show me the city. I wonder where I could find one….. [Robusto-style so far]

Her: you have to try…. everywhere…i dont know… i can’t find guy like that either.. they’re somewhere

Me: Real men are very rare. Like pandas or tigers. What is your ideal man?

Her: someone honest,clever and always make me laugh

Me: I’m boring. I’m the most boring man in the world. I like your hair in your photo. I’m very boring. When I talk, you will fall asleep. [JJ-style of push-pull-push]

Her: you might not be so boring but the fact that you repeat saying you’re boring so many times. that’s boring

Me: ****** logic paradox ****** weird girl I like your hairband too. I don’t like your bed sheet [push-pull-push]

Her: weird man that’s not bed sheet, it’s bedspread. I like your jacket but I dont like your hat.

Me: That hat cost me $5,000. Well, no it didn’t. That’s a lie. What are you doing right now?

Her: I’m working but sneak chatting. if you mean occupation.. it’s bloody[boring office] company

Me: BOOOOOORRRRRINGGGG!!!!! You need excitement. Are you adventurous?

Her: thanks for telling me that my job is boring. it really helps. I am more adventurous than you can imagine.

Me: I don’t believe you. I think you work all day and watch TV all evening. I think the most adventurous thing you ever did was to kiss a guy in a bar. Once. You look like a fun girl

Her: you’re pathetic.. listen to your attitude. i bet all girls you have met are as boring as you just describe me, and i bet you’ll never find anyone more adventurous than that.

Me: It’s unfortunate. Maybe I just have bad luck in Thailand. In London, the girls I meet are all fun, interesting, energetic and beautiful. Maybe my luck in London is good. Are you really 159cm?

Her: maybe 158 i’m not sure. and me, i have bad luck too… all boys i meet here are boring.

Me: Do you have facebook in Thailand?

Her: where have you been dinosaur? facebook is eveywhere now.

Me: I thought so, but the only Thais I know I met in London and Tokyo. Search [my email] and add me

So she comes over to facebook where all my profile DHVs can hit and I can get a better look to see if her dating site photo is backed up by reality. Yeah, she’s quite cute. So I proceed to have a few ten-minute half-arsed chats to bed down some comfort and be more real. We exchange numbers and then a few days after I touch down in Thailand we meet on Saturday evening.

Closer to reality

I tell her it’s fine to bring friends because I’m out with Bhodi. She comes alone on her scooter and from there it’s child’s play. We’re in a lounge bar supping Singha beer and for twenty minutes Bhodi and I just frame-control the shit out of her until she is entrenched in a submissive, inferior feminine position – which she loves, I might add. It’s obvious she’s never seen anything like it. Push-pull, DHVs, chick crack, douchbaggery, it’s all in there. As we finish our drinks and go to the club next door I know all the attraction and qualification is done. I simply need enough comfort and then test some escalation.

Bhodi heads home with a chest infection he picked up in muay thai class while I move my girl from the edge of the dancefloor to a sofa outside. I do very light kino which she accepts and then drop in sexualisation.

Her: What do you like to do in life?

Me: First, I like fighting. Second is sleeping. Then eating. Then reading. Fifth is sex, then videogames.

Her: Sex is only fifth?

Me: No no, sorry. Videogames is fifth, then sex.

A bit later I qualify her on blowjob technique. She says she’s great at it because some ladyboy gave her secret tips. I do a push-away with: “Two things that all girls say they are good at is kissing and blowjobs. It’s never true. I’ve been disappointed so many times.” Predictably she paws me and qualifies: “No, no. Really, I give excellent blowjobs!”

The rook moves to H7. Check.

I tell her we’re going for a walk and start leading in the direction of my apartment and I occupy her forebrain with bullshit until the momentum is rolling. She has a great round ass so I compliment her on it, pick her up over my shoulder and slap it. She’s loving it.

The knight advances. Black is in danger.

We get to my apartment building ten minutes later. “I’m not going to your room” she half-heartedly protests. “It’s just for ten minutes” and up we go. Once inside I put on spotify and chill. “We’re not having sex” she protests. “That’s fine. Just show me some youtube music you like.”

Checkmate

Five minutes later she is demonstrating her blowjob skills. Ten minutes later I have F-town. When I give her a ride back to her scooter she’s singing sweet love songs. Cute. I’ll see her again.

Postscript: Although I go to bed with the F-town tags around my neck, which I swear make me sleep deeper and dream better, Robusto lacks the class and character to allow me to enjoy my acheivement. Way over in Mexico he rushes out to the street and brings a runt home to regain his tags.

First things first – this was not a Cuban whore (which obviously wouldn’t count). She was a travelling Beijing girl and I didn’t spend a penny on her, so it’s a fully-fledged flag‘n’tags. It begins on my second day in Havana when Toe and I go to rendevous with a new Greek friend in Hemingway’s Floridita bar for a mohito and cigar. Greek dude is a big husky 41yr old who used to tour guide the holiday islands – he’s knobbed alot of slutty tourists – and we like him. While at the bar I open a little asian girl who is sitting by herself then bring her back to our table. We all move on to a couple of other bars and she’s into me but I’m getting horrendously drunk without realising it. Suddenly I stand up and the world is spinning. It’s shocking. Approaching midnight as we all walk up the main square I try cavemanning and verbally escalating her but I’m so drunk I can’t stand straight so when she attacks me with her umbrella I fall flat on my arse, laughing. She chases me down the street trying to hit me with her umbrella before Greek restrains her. I stagger home and assume that’s the end of it.

Something like this in Floridita

A few days later its Friday night and we plan to hit Casa de Musica, the “hip” club in Havana, after a few cuba libres in our apartment. Just as we are walking home, about 8pm, some street whore is standing on the corner so we say hello and walk on. Some big fat old American tries to buy her but she seems to dislike him and instead follows us up the stairs to the apartment. Because Toe is at the back he says it’s his set to try and shore. Whatever, she’s rather grotty. So she joins us for rum and it’s just a laid back fun drink. She starts flicking through a video games magazine I left lying around so I show her my Nintendo 3DS which she loves, regressing like a little girl, cooing and chuckling. I put the headphones on her and we leave her in the world of Zelda for half an hour as we chat amongst ourselves. When she wants to go Toe undresses her in his room saying “no dinero, no dinero”. It seems on. He’s about to get his shoring (and Cuban flag) when she suddenly has second thoughts. She leaves, we drink, then at 11pm hit the club.

Zelda, yesterday

After nearly having to slap a few queue jumpers outside we stroll into Casa de Musica and it’s like being on a different planet, Planet Smoking Hot Women. It is jam-packed wall to wall with 7+s. I’ve never seen so many 9s in one place, not even in Estonia. All week I’d been disappointed with the standard of Cuban women but now I realise where they’ve all been hiding. And they are all hitting on us (them being whores, we don’t kid ourselves). Although we are quite aware what’s going on it is still a shock to the system on a primal level to have half a dozen truly beautiful girls competing for our attention at any one time. Our forebrains may well be saying “they are whores, don’t feel special” but our hindbrains are “woo!hoo!woot!woot!” It’s early days and I’ve heard they are very expensive here ($100) so I say to Toe “let’s just treat this as bar game practice. We’ve got a chance to tease and mess with a flock of stunning girls and they are going to stand there and take it. It would be so hard to get this chance in London so let’s drill it into ourselves to tease them.” My vibe is great anyway. So we start tooling these girls and they are biting hard, playing along. I sense it’s gonna be a great night of douchebaggery. Soon I’m locked in with the most beautiful girl whore in the club, a tall brunette who is quite possibly a 10, while I keep playing kids pranks on her and making everyone laugh. She asks me if I want the fucky-fucky so I tell her I’m here to drink beer with my friends but maybe later. I’m expecting her to move on to other leads but she hangs around. Then, unexpectedly, the Chinese bird turns up (we’ve nicknamed her Ming-Ming).

sans umbrella

She starts throwing herself at me. Oh how lucky it is I met you again, it’s my last night in Cuba, I want to have a special night etc. Quite a change from the last time I saw her. I have a dilemma.

1. Game up the whore 10 until she lowers her price enough to make it worth taking her home. The incentive is it’ll be a night of great sex with an unbelievably hot woman. The drawback is it’ll cost alot of money and, with her being a whore, there is no validation whatsoever in banging her. Like having the best wank of your life. Great fun, but just gratification. or,
2. Take home the Chinese 6 for free to get a new flag and return the F-Town dogtags to their rightful owner.

Toe says to bang the chink then come back to the club. So I pull her outside on the promise of rum in my apartment. She follows eagerly. I’m thinking I can get her done within an hour and then get back to my night out but a fearsome case of LMR rears it’s ugly head. It takes over an hour to close her. First she rebuffs the kiss, then the breasts, and so on as I gradually get her undressed. I have to hold her down and she’s protesting with hard token resistance. It’s so borderline that to be sure I go into the bathroom for a few minutes just so I can leave her alone in my room with a clear line to the door if she wants to leave. She stays. Ok, definitely token resistance. She’s giving me the “you are not going to fuck me” routine right up until she asks “do you have a condom?” Bloody LMR. If it wasn’t for the double-whammy of flag n tags I would’ve thrown her out.

On the plus side, once I do get my cock inside her she becomes very good. She tells me I’m the fifth guy to fuck her (she’s 28). After the first time we go to the end of the street for pizza then I bring her back in and fuck her again. She’s all over me by now having been thoroughly tamed. I nail her hard then finally decide to head back to the club but I’ve misjudged it. As I open the front door Toe is outside without his keys, a toothless hophead local guy next to him hassling for spare change. I rush to the club, Ming-Ming in tow, but it’s throwing out time. I quickly scan the room for hot whores but they have all left or paired up. So I return empty handed, by which time Toe has a beautiful girl whore with him that he knocked down to $50.

So I missed a great night but got a good flag. Shame she wasn’t hotter.

Learning points

• Just cos a girl thinks you’re a drunken arsehole one night doesn’t mean she won’t secretly like it, think about it, then come back for more
• When a girl is ready to be extracted, don’t waste time. It took ten minutes from bumping into her again to leaving the club
• Notice the difference between token resistance and real resistance. The easy way is to give a girl chances to leave and see if she takes them

*Video coming later, as I am now on a Caribbean beach and all my threesome footage is on a hard drive in London*

As much as it pains me to admit it, JJ has to take most of the credit for making this happen. He opened the set in Oslo, he ran the facebook chat on Girl A (the make-up artist) to get her keen to meet us on her London trip, and then by banging her the first night he pretty much had the set locked down. So as I woke up at noon on Saturday morning (New Year’s Eve) with an un-fucked Norwegian model in my bed, I took stock of the situation:

• I’m in bed with a girl I don’t really give a shit about but she is fairly hot. She’s also cranky and in her own world so I’m just not fussed to try and solve her puzzle.
• She thinks I’m a cool, funny, sexually aggressive douchebag who also has a warm side. For whatever reason, she put the brakes on the sex last night.
• JJ is waking up with a hot brunette next door to me who seems like a much nicer person and had been actively rapport-seeking with me on the occasions she didn’t have her tongue down JJ’s throat. No question she fancies me, but she likes JJ more.
• JJ has his close so now he’ll be up to mischief.

The girls hang around till mid-afternoon until Dragon comes back. I bump into Alex and thank him for doing such good winging the night before when he drops a bomb – he fucked Dragon. Good grief! That really is taking one for the team. Not much happens the rest of the day until I head out into Soho to meet a friend for a few beers and by about 11pm we roll into Chateau RSG for our big party. There’s loads of randomers milling around who I don’t know making it look like a reality-TV house for Jersey Shore or The Only Way Is Essex. They are all having fun but not my crowd, to put it mildly. We sit drinking in the cinema room for a while and now the Norwegians are back for seconds, all dolled-up. At some point between going to bed last night and seeing them again just before midnight I’d managed to lose all interest in Model. Maybe I was smarting from the LMR or maybe something else but I pretty much ignored her the next three hours to talk to my friends. Before long the distinguished gents of the house retire upstairs to the Hemingway Suite bringing our girls with us. It’s a nice low-key vibe with whiskey and cigars. I’m not trying to get laid at all. As far as I’m concerned I’ve done my job winging JJ.

Gradually we get shitfaced drunk.

Some of the hangers-on come upstairs to squeeze their way in but we give them fairly short shrift when they misbehave. I send one guy out for sitting on a fragile drinks rack. JJ has his arm around Becks chatting when some gay black dude starts giving him the eye and caressing his hand – takes him a while to realise what’s going on. It’s all normal drinking. Dragon spends an hour spouting incessant drivel into my ear. I’ve got Model sitting next to me on the sofa now that we are finally chatting and Dragon is leaning over her to spout her rubbish. After a while Model gets up and sits in her own world at the other side of the room while Dragon tries to sidle up next to me (I tell her to keep her distance and she gets all butthurt).

I see JJ watching Model, a wistful look in his eye. Its the look of love. I do believe he’s falling for her entitled bullshit.

Downstairs the party is getting out of control with all the drunken fools letting off fire extinguishers and spilling drinks anywhere. It’s just raucous fun but a disrespectful way to treat someone’s house. Finally one angry drunk guy smashes some glasses. There’s no responsible adults downstairs so Elmo sticks his head around the Hemingway door and asks me to sort it out. I call JJ and him for backup then eject this guy. He’s a typically modern puffter – all gym muscles, diet, couiffured hair, and absence of all masculinity. He takes his telling with a sullen look but doesn’t kick up a fuss. JJ is well boozy now so he elbows his way past me to be centre-stage in the ejection process, clearly spoiling for a fight. As the guy leaves he says something indistnguishable that maybe – if you try hard enough – you could twist into him calling JJ a cunt. So JJ kicks off and we have to hold him back.

By now everything is winding down. Dragon has fallen asleep on the floor after spouting lies about Alex – she preposterously claims that he took advantage of her the night before. Yes, a fat little 38-yr old single mom. I know Alex and I saw how desperate she was for sex so I know she’s full of shit. It sours my mood further against these girls. Only Girl A has not earned my ire. About an hour earlier Model tried to embarrass me in front of the whole suite by twisting something I’d told her. It was petty behaviour. Jimmy surreptitiously sends me a text: “We should be thinking about the foursome”

A note about JJ. He has the best calibration I’ve ever seen. He has this finely-tuned radar for knowing what a girl is thinking, what she’s up for, and when to make the move. He can’t even explain it properly but I’ve seen it many times. So when he sends that text I know its not merely aspirational thinking. I perk up. It’s his set, he knows what he’s doing, so I just follow his lead. I realise that if it’s on a plate I will happily fuck either girl.

The two of us are sitting on a sofa with Girl A stretched over us. Model is sitting on the floor with her back to us talking to someone else, I forget who. JJ starts verbally escalating Girl A while I physically escalate it. She giggle through all of it. Before long I’m rubbing her up. It’s on. JJ tells her to straddle him and Model looks over and realises what’s happening. It’s simply too much for her to resist. Whatever reservations she might have had about sex last night are subsumed by the thought of an orgy. She walks over and straddles me, I pull her tits out and then we are pawing at both girls. It only takes a minute or two for everyone to understand there’s 4-way consent so then we decamp to JJ’s room.

The mood is very different to the prior night. On the Friday I was the warm end of the pool, creating most of the fun, tooling the girls, and full of exhuberance. It was easy because we had a clear division of labour:

JJ = escalate and close Girl A. Krauser = build attraction with Model

But now it was all convoluted. JJ clearly wanted to fuck Model and now Girl A was showing more interest in me than him. There was a swap going on, yet we wanted dual threesomes (who ever really wants a second man in the room?). I’ll admit I was out of my depth. My only previous threesome had been far more structured where I was clearly top dog. Wing rules dictated I play second fiddle to JJ so I became quite subdued for a while. He knew what he was doing. He told the girls to make out and then took it from there. Throughout it all the vibe was fun, not sexy. We were all laughing the whole time. Once JJ and I joined in with the girls they made their choice clear – Girl A peeled off to me and signalled Model she could take JJ. We were all involved but the shift was perceptible.

I banged Girl A first, while JJ was necking on with Model next to me, and then he left the room so I could do Model and then fully threesome them. After an hour or so, by which time JJ was back in the room sipping his tea in an armchair, I turned the girls over to him and went to bed. A great night. There was more of the same the next day then they went home.

Learning points – The escalation worked like this:

• JJ runs the set in Oslo as normal, gets his target into him, takes contact details, maintains set over facebook until a physical meet is possible
• JJ closes target while I get other girl into me. At this point it’s just a normal set with no reason to suppose group sex
• When JJ closes his girl, a few things become clear. She’s locked down having had and enjoyed the sex so he tests the waters with a few statements to see how dirty she is and what she wants. She answers in ways suggesting she’s well into her sex games.
• Back in the party JJ confirms target also likes me and I escalate her. If nothing else there’s a hand-over of targets
• The crucial point is turning a handover into an orgy. We naturalise the idea, make the vibe playful and crazy, and then just lead, lead, lead
• Start the girls off kissing each other to get them heated up
• We give approval from “outside” then gradually help them with each other, touching them
• Finally the girls are so horny they pull us in and we are having two side-by-side couplings
• Then at last, one man leaves and the other man takes both girls

Pretty smooth sailing in the end.

My first close of the year came 6 hours into 2012 and what a wild ride it was! Credit has to go to Jimmy Jambone for making this happen, in stark contrast to him piggy-backing my opening throughout 2011 with his parasite game. It all began in Norway a few months ago when Toe and I were sleeping peacefully in an Oslo hotel room when JJ comes barreling in at 4am, shitfaced and bawdry, two girls on his arms. See here.

It goes quiet then these girls pop back up on the radar when they’re coming to London. There’s gonna be JJ’s target (as yet unclosed), her unattractive little 38yr old single mum friend (dragon) and….. a London-based fashion model. JJ throws me a bone: “Can you wing me on this set and if the model goes for you, take her.” Let’s take a closer look at the girls

JJ’s target, mine, and the dragon

Friday night rolls around and we meet the girls for a pint in Soho. JJ asks me how I’m gonna play it. I tell him the truth: “I really don’t give a fuck whether I get this model, so I’ll do straightforward Mystery Method. Ignore her, build value, and then gradually notice her as the night wears on.” It’s so easy to work a girl when you know the set is held all night. It was almost like social circle game – which barely counts as game it’s so easy. So I’ll be cocky, interesting, and pay most of my attention to my buddies. We know they are coming to our New Year’s Eve party the next night so we only need to do A1-C1 tonight.

Right from the off it goes well. We laugh and joke, I neg and tease the girls, and drop in the DHVs. I’m really indifferent to the outcome so obviously this gets the model engaged. She’s pawing me, qualifying and trying to get into the rat pack bubble JJ and I have. Then we bounce them to Camden where more of the rat pack is out drinking. The whole vibe is “fun night out”. Beer gets drunk. On the way there Model makes her move – we are standing in a aisle on the underground train when she whips out her phone saying “I want your number”. Then I race her to the last unoccupied seat (I win, obviously) so she jumps on my lap. “Oww! Jimmy! I can’t feel my legs. It’s like having a hippo on me” I wail. JJ winks. It’s on.

We stay out drinking till 3am and the shit tests start coming. She tries to get me to buy her drinks, she tries to pull me onto the dancefloor, and she opens three chodes and gets them to draw on her forearm. Obvious tests that I just ignore, turning to talk to my friends. I’m fully on douchebag by now, as always when I’m drunk. I really don’t care if I fuck her. I don’t even like her much – a clear low esteem games player. She sits next to me and says “you’re so cocky” (IOI) then stands up to gyrate next to me. I turn away. There’s a group of three young couples sitting across from us who are observing us because we are having so much fun and I’m literally batting this model away so I can talk to my friends. Our buddy Alex is doing a fine job occupying the dragon (who fancies me) to give us time to work. Funniest moment happens during the kiss close….

…I’m sitting back drinking when model starts pestering me to buy her a drink (I laugh in her face, JJ laughs, and she gets the hump). So she pours a little of my beer into her empty glass and dragon’s glass. No more than 1/4 of a pint. It’s a bantering gesture, that’s all. I protest loudly so she bends over and kisses me. A proper kiss. I let her have 2 seconds then push her out the way and grab my pint, lulling. She can’t believe it and turns her back to start gyrating her arse in my face. So I grab her glass and pour the beer back into my glass then fist-pump the air in victory and getting my beer back. All the boys are cackling. The group watching us is creasing up laughing. Then I pull model down onto my lap and we have a proper makeout.

JJ jokingly asks Alex if he’ll take one for the team with dragon and the colour drains from his swarthy features as he declines the offer. JJ’s bird is climbing all over him now so he decides to rush things along for the close. We take taxis back to Chateau RSG and retire to the Hemingway Suite for rum. Now Dragon makes her play for me and won’t leave me alone, which cools off Model (the two only met the day before through JJ’s girl). It’s looking bad because Dragon is clinging to me like a homesick turd. Alex comes in and distracts her so I can push model up against the door, makeout, then room-drag.

I’m lying in bed while model is topless and stripper-dancing to this.

I figure I’m ten minutes away from getting my jollies when it suddenly inexplicably goes south. She kneels down, licks my balls and then teases a blowjob that she won’t give. I try to pull down her jeans when she says “I’m on my period, we can’t have sex.” Even at this point I don’t really care. So after another five minutes of her not sucking my cock I roll over and go to sleep. She keeps her jeans on all night next to me. Whatever. I strike her off my list.

So what happens the next evening is a big surprise…. Part Two soon.