#79: Headfirst for Halos

It was one of the hottest days of the year so far, and if you’ve met me before, then you’ll know that I don’t deal with the heat well. Sun lotion is slathered on at an alarming rate and I have to duck from shade to shade like some sort of ginger gollum.

I was winging with Kaiser – as all my recent lay reports seem to start – but then we ran into Mr White and then another student/wing named Chris. We all huddled in the shade at my request and chatted about our days.

Kaiser ran off to do a set, and that’s when I saw Gabriela crossing the road; she seemed to briefly glance at me before she did, though later on she would tell me she hadn’t noticed me before I came up to her. She was all dressed up and I’d later learn that she was on her way to the theatre. 23 years old. Average height but with a nice narrow waist and well-shaped butt. Another seven.

Gabriela crossed the road – we were just by Piccadilly Circus- and headed north towards Soho. For people who know the area, it’s where you walk past Five Guys and up towards the Queen’s Theatre. However, she went around the outside of the pavement and walked on the outside of the barriers which rimmed the street. It meant I’d have to stop her, and hope that she wasn’t in too much of a hurry, because there’d be cars whizzing inches by. I don’t normally like those kinds of approaches, since the girl has nowhere to excuse herself towards if she wants to leave, but given I thought that she might have given me an IOI, I went off.

I opened with some silliness about her dress making her look like a mermaid, and from there we went through some basic comfort topics – where are you from, what do you do, why did you come to London – before going into a routine number close. She mentioned that that day had been lucky and very strange. Normally her (gay) friend would pick her up and take her to wherever they were going. Today was the one day she wore heels and the one time he couldn’t pick her up. It was also the one day where I approached her. There’s always an element of luck.

I sent my feeler a couple of hours later and she didn’t respond until just before midnight. In the meantime, I’d decided that she was a flake, but after receiving her response to my feeler and in her responding to my pings consistently, I put her into the Maybe/Strong Maybe camp. We organised a date for later that week.

Then there was another stroke of luck. I’d agreed to meet Gabriela at 6.30pm – earlier than I usually would – and so scheduled another date with a separate girl for 9pm. My initial plan was to see Gabriela off after a couple of hours then turn my attention to the other girl. The other girl flaked. That meant that when Gabriela turned up, and started giving stronger signals than I’d anticipated, then I could amp things up.

We went to a local pub and sat on some stools and jumped back into the comfort topics. For a while now I’ve been focusing on my eye contact and what I can convey through that, so it was a good opportunity to get her to talk about herself and give her some looks. I worked in a few touches, here and there, but she gave me a very good signal when she leaned her leg up against me. I always test it by moving my leg away, and back. Girls seem to like to do this leg-lean to encourage you to push ahead. The next big (huge) signal came when she was saying something about Brexit. She went to criticise it but then touched my hand reassuringly. As we all know, if a girl actively touches you, then that is one of the best signals. When we stood up to rearrange her stool, she left herself standing between my legs; it was easy to pull her over and kiss her.

So far, very good, and then I got another green light: I paid for the second round of drinks, and she said she would get the next one if we had one. If a girl is willing to have more than two drinks with a guy, then she is willing to let the night go places. That meant that once we’d finished the second round, I moved us over to a darker bar where I played the Questions Game and got her very heated up. Unfortunately, she wouldn’t come back to mine, and openly admitted that she was having a “debate” in her head as to whether she should go back with me. That was even after I looped my arm around her, under her dress, and started fingering her. She even leaned forward a little so I could get my hand in properly.

I decided to give her a false concession. We would meet the next day for dinner, and afterwards “see what happens.” She obviously knew what that meant but pretended not to be sure. However, before we’d said goodbye at the station she was already talking as if the plan was set in stone.

I met Gabriela the next day and led her straight over to the restaurant. We ate some food and had a bottle of wine, before I walked her back to mine. She followed me back without a peep. There was a tiny moment of LMR but it was completely token; just a vestige of the “debate.”


Afterwards I happened to ask her what the naughtiest thing she ever did was. She told me that she and her friend had met a guy on a train while travelling in Spain, and that that night they had a threesome with him. Lucky guy.

Yours unfaithfully,

Thomas Crown

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