Casanova
There was this chick I had chatted on one of the dating apps before the new year, but my travel schedule didn’t really allow a date to be set. We had both gone radio silent on each other for weeks, then chatted intensively in Whats App and then had no connection for several weeks whatsoever again. Usually in cases like this, when you haven’t met the girl yet, chances that you’ll actually see each other ever are slim to none, but soon after the New Year holidays I decided to give it one last go. She responded almost immediately quite eagerly and it turned out that she had just come back to London from Bulgaria. The weekend was coming, so I suggested to meet in the usual place in Clapham and Svetla (not real name) confirmed we got ourselves a date. I remember she seemed sort of weird over chat, but at that point I had gone through so many conversations with women (99% of which went nowhere), that I was immune to caring about any of it and just focused on the outcome – get them out and play the field there.
When you start going out on dates frequently, you are no longer as anxious on what’s going to happen there, as you are excited about it. Don’t get me wrong, there is and always going to be some degree of nervousness, but the moment you realize you are actually anticipating it, rather than thinking of all the things that could possibly go wrong, is kind of liberating. By that point I had already had all sort of dates, both good and bad, including few ONS, few with fairly weird girls, 1-2 where we actually managed to have a fight (a verbal one, as apparently my Eastern European way of saying things straight to the point can be considered quite rude :D), as well as a fairly awkward date with a British woman, who admitted having mental issues and then stormed out about 10 minutes into our date. I have made it through all of that in one piece and there were few things that would shock me at that stage plus I knew it’s time to for the better side of the dating experience to play through, as I was relentlessly doing the work.
Anyway, here I am entering the bar and the girl was already there. We had actually talked on the phone while I was on my way over – she called me to make sure I’m not bailing on her I think, so I knew she’s going to be there before me, as I semi-deliberately went 10-15 min late. From the first couple of minutes of our interaction it was clear that this will end up well. We were having fun – we connected immediately, had a similar sense of humor, talked through each other about a bunch of different things and all in all were having a great time. I had almost forgot that this kind of feeling exists on dates – even with some of the girls I ended up banging, we had quite weird first dates or couple of hours, so an instant connection was certainly a breath of fresh air in these days. Svetla was a very average Bulgarian girl – late 20’s, not beautiful, but very very charming with a nice playful smile and an alluring body language, carried out by a body that I wouldn’t call slim, but also definitely not in bad shape either. It was clear even through the three layers of clothing that she had a big pair of breasts which is why I think she caught my attention online in the first place. All in all, apart from the boobs, very average, but normal average. The type of average I was happy with at that point.
After I ordered my second drink, I decided it’s already time to move closer to her and sat on the coach on her side of the table. She didn’t say anything and just smiled at me, but I could see what’s going on there – she was looking around, playing with her hair, biting her lips and pretty much giving out any other tell sign that she wants to be kissed. By this point we had spent no more than 20 minutes with each other and in the past I would never even dare to touch a girl that I knew so soon, but here it happened automatically – I just leaned over and she started kissing me straight away. No resistance, no head turns, just like that. After that we laughed a bit about it, kissed more and talked about our past relationships and dating experience. She told me about her ex-boyfriend (a black guy, the first & only semi-red flag as Bulgarian girl are usually quite racists, so she was either a giant slut or genuinely fell for him), who she had just recently broken up with after 2 years together. It reminded me of my own stories with the Japanese girl I had brought back home to meet my friends and family, only to break up with her a couple of weeks later. Anyway, at that point we had both moved on, so we continued enjoying the night together.
I had already decided that I’m going all-in (and as a matter of fact made it my numero uno rule – never back down, unless they very clearly push you away), so I told her I’m walking her home. Her flat was very close (not more than 15-20 min or pretty much next door by London walking standards) and we stopped several times to make out on the way there. When we reached the building she told me I can’t go up, because she has roommates and isn’t ready for this right now. I told her I had to pee, so she gotta let me in. I’m pretty sure she felt my boner through my pants, but as she was still saying I’m not allowed in, I told her I’ll just pee in front of the building and started unzipping my pants. Bear in mind, not more than an hour ago, we were total strangers and I had 2 fairly weak cocktails. In another context (if I was pissed drunk for example), I’m pretty certain she would have considered to just sneak in her building and not see me again, but my little show had convinced her that I’m genuine (and very likely a sociopath) and as all good girls know, a sociopath in front of the building is more damaging for the reputation than a sociopath inside their flat LOL.
No but joke by side, she told me I can use her bathroom, so we finally went upstairs. I forced 15 ml of pee through my incredibly hard penis, none of which went into the toilet itself, so had to spend most of the time inside cleaning after myself. Going out of the bathroom I saw a cat, which I took in my hands and brought to her room. The cat was super still and purring in my palms and even though she pretended to be busy cleaning around her already tidied up room, I couldn’t help but see her expression of relief – I had the silent approval of her pet. A moment later it also became very clear to me we are not going to have sex that night – she was still polite towards me, but was thoroughly making signs that I should not stay much longer, kisses went from passionate to brief, no eye contact, and hands pushing towards my chest. I later found out she was on the first days of her period at that time, which probably also explains some of the above hormone roller coaster. I stayed for a few more minutes just to make sure she understands I leave because I want to and not that her general lack of hospitality is something I give a f*ck about (didn’t even offer me a drink or a glass of water) and then was on my way out of her place. She came by the door to give me a good night kiss (and almost ate me, passion back on in full fury, now that I was going away) and because I hurried myself when leaving, she actually apologized to me that we won’t have sex tonight, but said she wants to meet again. I just smirked, said I enjoyed the night as well and was on my way out. The cat was also outside to say her farewell and I gave her a thorough kick in the butt, while Svetla wasn’t looking, just cause I thought it would be amusing. Damn right it was! Maybe I was indeed a sociopath. Oh well…
While I was considering the logistics for our next date, she started texting me roughly 15-20 min after I left her place. But, like, A LOT of texts and emoticons and stuff. She was hooked, it was very clear. I knew that now I only had to get one thing right – the timing. The weekend had just gone away and I had a busy week ahead of me, so I thought the earliest I’d meet her will be in 5-6 days. Bear in mind back then I thought this was A LOT of time and with hotter girls actually it kinda is – usually, the more narrow the time span between date 1 and 2, the better, although I wouldn’t recommend back-to-back days either, as that makes things a bit weird and imposes a feeling of going too fast (and sub communicates neediness, if the guy suggests it). So the ideal would be 3-4 days later and in my case would have been a bit longer than that, but the combo of how well the first night went and her overall vibe gave me assertion that this won’t be a dealbreaker.
We stayed in touch over the next couple of days with the ratio of her messages to mine around 3:1, both because I wanted her to chase, as well as because I genuinely had other more important stuff to deal with. We set a date for next Thursday and this time she was coming to my office. At that point I could have played it in one of two ways – either bring her somewhere very close to my place for dinner and then move straight there (which would have been a cheap and efficient date) or go somewhere cool, enjoy some more time together and then bounce her on a cab back home. I knew the second option is going to cost me more money for the same result, but during those days I was getting paid well, so I thought I’d rather have a fun night instead. Bear in mind, this was also probably more risky as well, so in identical situation I would always recommend to go for the safer option. One of the reasons is that the more time you spend together with the girl with your dick out of her, the more chances you have to say or do something stupid that will eventually diminish/delay bedding her. My confidence was already sky high at that time and I thought that nothing can f*ck things up that badly. I know that this makes sound as if you are overthinking a million things about it and that you should actually just be spontaneous and be yourself and go have fun together and things will eventually work out on their own, but trust me – thinking about it, having a solid plan and executing it saves a lot of hassle later on. It is also much more efficient, especially if your natural instinct would be to get wasted in the opposite part of town and end up in the tube with a drained battery. London is not a city you should be improvising a lot, if you want a Casanova lifestyle, unless you are playing on the right wing for Chelsea, of course.
So I decided to take my date to a hidden piano bar and show her a little bit of London lifestyle taste. One thing you have to understand about the Eastern European girls (and most guys as well actually) in cities like London is that they are above all economic migrants. But even when they start making enough money to live in the big city, most of its pleasures are still far beyond reach – not necessarily for financial reasons, but due to lack of confidence and social surrounding. A lot of the girls I met had very boring daily lives by my standards – they went to work, they did house chores and 1-2 a month they went to have dinner outside, usually with another female friend. Even if they had money to spend, they didn’t know where to go, they wouldn’t go out solo etc etc. So most of the time when we went out to a cool new place (even if it was actually cheap to go there), they started to become starry-eyed as a whole new side of town was opening up. On top of it, this is a strong side of mine and one I particularly enjoy – after living abroad in many countries I’m used to making a city “my own” and knowing the ins and outs of nightlife.
Nevertheless, none of this made a difference this time round. The date itself went actually quite bad. We didn’t have time for dinner as I finished late, the place was crammed with people, our seats weren’t comfortable and she kept complaining that the music is for old people (piano jazz bar, I mean it’s clearly not gonna be Wiz Khalifa). As it usually happens – if you want to share a place with someone else and they are not enjoying it, you rarely have fun yourself either, as much as you wanna fake it. So I decided we can call it a night earlier, settled the bill and went out. It couldn’t have been later than 9 PM. Right after walking out she pointed towars a bus and said that this one is going to bring her straight to her place. Then I told her she isn’t going to her place. She asked where she’s going and I just told her “With me”. 2-3 minutes later the Uber was there and with a bit of resistance she went inside and we headed towards my apartment. I’ll pause here for a minute to make few key observations:
- Women adore shit tests – “That’s my bus” is a perfect example. Usually most guys would panic and try to respond to this somehow – “Don’t go away, let’s have more fun, I know a pub bla-bla-bla”. Don’t. She is testing. Maintain your frame and if she doesn’t abide to it, drop her. If attraction was strong, she will follow 90% of the time.
- I didn’t tell her “We are going to my place!”. This would have triggered her rational side and she’d start looking for other tests – “Why, what are we gonna do there” etc. You don’t want to have this conversation there. Better to do it in the cab, even better – on your sofa, and the best – not at all. Recipe for easy life.
- Finally, on first lays it’s important to have the smoothest route to your place as possible. This is why I mentioned earlier that going for a date somewhere close to my flat would have been less risky – a walk to my bedroom from there would seem natural. This is also why I always book cabs to my place if I haven’t slept with the girl before that. If we take the bus or tube together, her mind will be “OMG, this is happening, I don’t know this place, we didnt’ have that much fun tonight, isnt’ it better to jump out right here, how long will it take, I gotta work tomorrow, maybe he wont’ like my pussy etc etc etc” Instead of that, she has 0 time to focus on any of this, because she will be making out with you in the backseat of the car. It’s up to you how you will play it out, so I genuinely see it as the guy’s responsibility to just lead the girl through the path of least resistance – something that we men are naturally good at. Also, getting a cab in London (I used Uber, but still) isn’t an everyday event, unlike in Bulgaria or the Philippines, so most women (even British gals) consider it a cool move and appreciate it.
As you can imagine, once we went to my place everything was silky smooth. There was zero resistance and we had wild sex almost all night long and went out a few more times after that. A few hours earlier, this was just one “My bus is there” away of not happening. A lesson to remember for life.