26 year old Italian; first date; told me on the street she was a burlesque dancer, but on the date I found out she wanted to be a burlesque dancer, and that for now, she was dancing in a strip club. And in other news, this blog is exactly one year's old.
Category: lay report
#54: “Tell Me That You Love Me”
I met Tamari two weeks ago as S and I were taking a break from our Daygame session. It was a beautiful day and we were sitting on the stone bench that runs along the outside of Leicester Square, but a touch too warm for my tastes. I could feel a few, microscopic beads of … Continue reading #54: “Tell Me That You Love Me”
+1, lay report to follow
Georgian flag, 26, London 8. Bit of a loopy one which will become apparent in the lay report.
#53: The Big Yank
I thought I would write a classic TC lay report for this one: mixing a combination of storytelling with technical aspects which came to mind. This is the style I’ve aimed for in my memoir, which has now been through an editor and is awaiting my final review. Enjoy. ***** Wednesday came and work ticked … Continue reading #53: The Big Yank
#51: Jealousy Plotline
A couple of weeks ago V and I met up and went to a house party of a friend of his. It had been a stellar day of Daygame for me even though the rain had been lashing down; in fact, it was the day that I number closed #52 as well as three other … Continue reading #51: Jealousy Plotline
#52: Looks Can Be Deceiving
“You know at first I thought you were a proper gentleman.” Aoife said. I raised an eyebrow. “Yeh, the way you took care of everything and led us to the table then got the drinks.” “Huh, that’s interesting,” I said with a wry smile. “I loved the way you just lead me there and sat … Continue reading #52: Looks Can Be Deceiving
#50: The Nifty Fifty
What has the phrase ‘Nifty Fifty’ got to do with this lay? Was the girl Indian? (The equity benchmark for India is the Nifty Fifty). She wasn’t, she was a 20 year old English girl. Or perhaps it’s related to the large cap stocks which carried this as a nickname in the 1960s and 70s? … Continue reading #50: The Nifty Fifty
#49: Nothing Beats a Slap to the Face
Nothing beats the sound of the sharp crack of palm on cheek, and the subsequent gasp of pleasure. “Yes, harder,” Kiah said. I duly obliged. “You’re a dirty little bitch,” I continued, pushing her neck down into the bed. “Oh my God yes!” She moaned. “You’re Daddy’s little slut.” “I’m Daddy’s little slut,” she confirmed. … Continue reading #49: Nothing Beats a Slap to the Face
#48: Muh-Lay-Sia
The beaming sun beamed down onto muh-face. Holy moly it’s hot, I thought to myself, I’m even reusing words in the same sentence. Cuckily I’d slathered on some factor 50 before leaving muh-flat earlier that day. No muh-lanoma for me, thank you! I gently licked the inside of muh-cheek where I’d bitten it the night … Continue reading #48: Muh-Lay-Sia
#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 … Continue reading #47: White Man God Mode (25/30)
Thomas Crown PUA 