#47: White Man God Mode (25/30)

Splat! Another jet of water shot up into the air and then crashed back down against the ground. Splat! There went another one. Leicester Square’s crystal plumage danced around its central inhabitant and cooled his brow. It was a warm day, with clear skies. Around 23 degrees celsius. A circle of benches ran around the circumference of the statue, expanding from where me and S stood.

I’d met S about a year ago at a Tom Torero seminar and we had had a friendly chat. Then we met again about eight months later at a Nick Krauser seminar. It was fast becoming a tradition. We ended up running into each other on Oxford Street a few weeks ago and he number closed me. He did what most guys don’t do, which is follow up, and this was our first session winging together. I say that we ran into each other on Oxford Street, but in reality I saw him doing an approach and then spied on him from the other side of the road.

He seemed like a good guy, no weird signs. A little loud when discussing red pill topics, but I brought that up and he soon talked at a level which had greater social acuity. I think that your actions spread throughout crowds as a ripple spreads over the surface of a lake. If you’re doing something weird, then further down the street someone gets a weird feeling. I’m guessing it’s because they’re subconsciously noticing people further ahead move differently. He took my comment graciously which I appreciated. It’s always better to get these things out in the open.

We had a tonne to talk about and stories to share and S was having a good effect on my freedom from outcome too; it was something I really needed that day. I blame it on #46. I was still feeling shameful, and could add alcohol, junk food, and poor sleep to that too. Having that freedom from outcome meant that I went into more sets than I usually would, but I don’t think there was much wrong with my Daygame. The stops were strong, the stacking was creative and teasing, and I slid into comfort and spiking nicely. I just got a lot of boyfriend objections. I thought that all I needed was a girl who was interested and available, and I would set the world alight.

We were standing just out of the reach of the fountain’s splash when I turned around and saw Julia standing there, taking a selfie with the statue of Shakespeare in the background. Funnily enough, later on, she would show me the selfie of her and you can see me checking her out. There I was, lumbering along like a neanderthal. I scanned her from head to toe like a barcode and could feel my body moving before my mind had a chance to object. Long legs, black hair, thin, and all black clothes. She seemed like just my type, but I couldn’t see her darn face!

I crept up besides her like a Scooby Doo villain, trying to catch a glimpse. I got a little bit closer. She angled her face away to take another selfie. I got a little bit closer. She looked down at her phone to check the picture. Fuck my life. I eventually got to a 90 degree angle and could see her face… a six. An Asian six; her skin wasn’t flawless (I’d later learn, after fucking her, that she was 27) and her face was just a little bit too long.

Urgh… but still… I’ve walked all the way over here… I did like her from behind… why not just do the set? You’ve got nothing to lose… I cursed my encouraging self-talk and went in.

“Excuse me!” I said loudly and gestured for her take out her earphones.

“Yesss.” She was the definition of the dreamy Daygame girl.

“I just wanted to come over and say you looked quite pretty. I saw you in all this black and thought that you looked like the happiest goth in London.”

“Oh thank you…” It was like she was high. “That’s really sweet.” Her accent was peculiar though, it definitely wasn’t Asian.

“You’re accent is peculiar. I can’t pick it out.”

“Ohhh,” most of her sentences started like this, “I’m American, I’m from Texas.” That was not what I expected.

“Texas… So where’s your cowboy hat and guns then?”

She giggled and our conversation went from there. She didn’t talk much from a probable combination of dreaminess and (I suspect) shyness, so I mostly just teased out information. It was rhythmic and soothing. Question, answer, spike, statement giving my thoughts, follow up question, splat! The fountain maintained its steady rhythm too. I knew I had to touch her a bit as well, so I offered my hand and my name and used the opportunity to hold it there and look at her rings.

“… another time I want to take you out for a drink.”

“… Yes.” I didn’t even make it to “now would you like that?”

I took her number and offered my hand again as a way of goodbye. I’ve been doing this for my number closes recently and I’m fully aware that what I’m about to say next will make me appear a bit aspy: hand shakes are great ways to end conversations! It’s doesn’t involve awkwardly trying to kiss her on the cheek, that’s too intimate. It doesn’t involve just walking off, that’s too jarring. I just took Julia’s hand and slowly said “I’ll see you another time”, and channeled as much energy down to my dick as I could. It was a very powerful spike for her to remember me by.

I went back into the square and posted up against a handy tree as S completed his set. Nine and one, I thought as I adjusted my back to fit the gnarly bark. It was my first number of the day. S came up and we started walking along again.

“You know what, I’m annoyed,” I told him. “I’m not going to be able to make ten and oh today.”

*****

The texting went like clockwork and I got my date request sent, and accepted, later than afternoon. We were set to meet on the Monday evening. Whenever a girl agrees to come out that quickly I mentally increase the odds of the lay by a decent amount. I was about 90% sure that she was a proper Yes girl, with the 10% of doubt coming from inexperience with Asians. Then again, she grew up in America so really that 10% was smaller when I came to think about it.

Julia showed up about fifteen minutes late, which in girl-world is right on time, and showed a congruency which most PUAs only dream of: dressed all in black (but with a leather jacket and black heeled boots this time after my hoop to “dress rebelliously”) and completely chilled out.

“Heyyy.”

“Hi.” I leaned in and kissed her cheek before leading her down the road to a pub with a great beer garden. I knew that there were some nice little booths at the back of it where we could stay cool and I could run my escalation.

I sent Julia off to find some seats while I bought two beers, then went out to see what she’d chosen: a bench where we would sit opposite each other.

“No, no, no,” I said with a smile, “let’s go sit over there. It’s more comfortable”. I lead her over to the booths I had spied the last time I was there, and we sat at a right angle. It was still hot and humid, so I took off my jacket and made a point of showing her where the sun had burned my soft, pale, ginger skin.

Julia was as chilled out and as shy as she was on the street, or should I say in the square? Anyway. I knew I was going to take the conversational reins. It suited me fine. I’d been on this date before. I knew she was interested and this meant I could run through a conversational loop and build to the kiss. In Infinite, Krauser alludes to the “gameplay loop”. On this date, my loop was: comfort question -> answer -> my response (soft dominance) and a spike, then a piece of verbal or physical escalation. Every two times I ran through that loop I’d make an excuse to look at something on our phones and get her to sit a little closer so it was easier to see. After a couple of those, she was close enough to kiss, so when she looked at my lips, I just pulled her in. Easy.

From there, my new aim was get her hot and horny, and confirm that we’d be fucking, so I started the Questions Game. The thing was, she wasn’t giving me good questions in returns. They were just neutralising the sexuality, but it didn’t seem to be on purpose, I thought. She wasn’t asking me back the same question either, she was asking me fluffy stuff like “what’s your favourite food?” I wondered whether it was just some shyness coming in. Maybe she didn’t want to fuck the seduction up by asking something stupid. I decided to try a sexual question and see how she reacted.

“What do you find attractive? But like, really attractive?” I stressed the word so that she knew what I meant.

“Hmmmm, I said I like tall guys…” She was just repeating her answer to my previous escalation question where I asked her what her type was. She wasn’t making this easy, but she wasn’t shutting the faucet either.

“Well, and this is a cheeky question,” I’d been prefacing a lot of my escalation so far with that statement, “what turns you on.” I made sure to look away from her after I said that to fractionate.

She pondered the question for a bit; swishing it around her mouth for the flavour. “I haven’t thought about that before.” Time to impose the male dom relationship on her…

“Well, do you like it when a guy pulls your hair?” I made out with her and pulled hair. I heard a very quiet intake of breath. “What about when a guy spanks your arse?” She giggled. We made out again and I got a semi, so I put her hand on my crotch and rubbed it against my dick.

I looked at her drink, it was time to go, but she was only half way through and hadn’t drunk much in a long time.

“When you’ve finished that, we’ll go.” I told her.

I gave it another two minutes of her sinking into me and us kissing.

“I really like this beer.” I said as I took it off the table in front of us and downed it, leaving a small sip. “Look there’s a lady sip left for you.” She took the glass in both hands and finished it off. She looked like a little kid who slowly tries wine for the first time.

“Let’s go.” I said.

We stood up and went out of the pub through the side entrance. As we stepped out I stopped her on the step.

“How tall are you with your heels?” I said as I stepped in and kissed her again. She gave me a lot more tongue this time. I think it’s an excellent sign when a girl gives more of herself physically when in isolation because it shows that her actions when in public weren’t bait.

I walked her to mine, stood outside and said, “this is my place. Let’s have a drink upstairs.” And that was it. Wham, bam, thank you mam. Obvious Yes girl and no LMR. Slapped her face, spanked her arse, choked her, and gave her cervix a pounding which would do a pneumatic drill proud. And all that from a peaceful moment by the fountains of Leicester Square two days ago.

Yours unfaithfully,

Thomas Crown