One Of My Few Failure Stories

I don’t usually put up failure stories on my blog, but hey, if I want to keep up my three post a week habit, then the ideas are going to have to come from somewhere.

One reason for that is I quickly forget about things that don’t go my way. It’s probably why I progressed very quickly in my Daygame career: because I was able to forget the failures and focus on building up the positive reference experiences. That’s even in the face of overwhelming reminders: I’ve done thousands of sets and got 55 Daygame lays, which means thousands of failures.

This particular story happened a few months ago, but only recently have I officially declared the lead dead. Lara was a half-Italian half-Lebanese girl: pretty, 23 years old, but in particular had massive tits. I met her on the way home from a Daygame session and she gave me a massive IOI as I crossed the street. The kind where you just knew it would be a lay (or not, I suppose). It was in complete contrast to the session I had just finished, where it was overcast and humid, and I had been racking up the blowouts. It had just been one of those days.

Anyway, she had stopped to look at her phone to check the direction she was meant to be going, and I approached her. I stepped in very close and when I shook her hand, she lingered, which is always a great sign. Lara was in a rush and so offered her number to me so that we could meet another time.

Fast forward to about a week later and we met for a drink. She showed up and had put a lot of effort into her outfit and immediately I could sense it was on. I led her to a bar and I think I kissed her within ten minutes or so; within thirty we were talking about the bounce back to mine. I was (mentally) rubbing my hands together as this appeared to be a gift from the Daygame Gods: I had been walking back from my session, defeated, and here was a girl seemingly offering herself up to me.

We had one more drink in the bar, went back to mine and screeeeeeech! The lay train came to a halt. It turned out Lara had had only one previous boyfriend and so I surmised that I would be her second lifetime lay, if she went through with it of course. Her girl-brain quickly searched for reasons why we couldn’t have sex that evening and decided that since she thought that I was a player, that she had suddenly become very scared of STDs. Now, I always wear a condom anyway, and told her of this, but that wasn’t enough for her… I racked my brains trying to think of a way to calm her fears but no dice.

Ahah! I had an idea. I had recently had a health check-up at work where they had taken my blood.

“Yes but I need proof!” she said, so I continued racking my brains.

In the end we decided that I would find the many proofs, and that she would come to mine the next day around lunchtime if she felt comfortable.

I let her out my front door, then raced back to my room and logged into my work’s remote portal. I quickly went to our health screening website, downloaded the PDF, emailed it to myself, and then sent it to her on WhatsApp.

Her response came back quickly: “but this doesn’t check for STIs?”

“It’s paid for by my work. They check for everything,” I replied.

The wait was a lot longer this time. I went about getting ready for bed and checked my phone every now and then for a reply. Eventually:

“Okay. I will see you tomorrow :)”

Yuss! It was in the bag!

I met Lara at the station and walked her straight back to mine. The odd thing was, as we walked, I heard this metallic clunk from her bag. “What could that be?” I thought to myself.

We got inside and Lara gave me this look. There was something she wanted to tell me.

“I have a condition…”

“Okay,” I replied.

“You have to take this first.”

It was an at-home AIDS testing kit! For the love of God… Okay then. If that’s what it’s going to take to calm her fears. I pricked my finger and got the test going, before heading off to the kitchen to make some tea. That was perhaps the longest kettle-boil of my life. My hand shook as I poured the water. Of course I didn’t have AIDS, but what if the test fucked up? I was now relying on this little flimsy bit of plastic and a test strip for a lay.

I returned to my room and… it was negative! Praise the lord!

I started to escalate. Her massive tits came out with two tremendous thuds… and screeeeeeeech! It was too fast. She couldn’t go through with it. She should probably go. She left. Never saw her again. The double near miss.

Yours unfaithfully,

Thomas Crown

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