I saw this short girl stroll along Na Příkopě by the old town. She was dressed in black leather shorts, a leather jacket, and had fluffy blond hair with a single small braid. “She looks R!” I yelled. My wing nodded, and I went in for the approach. “Oh wait! I think I got an IOI,” he suddenly exclaimed. “It’s alright, though. You go!”
I was confused. I was already catching up to her as she was passing New Yorker. “Are you sure?” I asked him. “Yeah man! Go - open her!” he yelled. I went in…
I killed her momentum instantly but the interaction felt a bit flat. She turned out to be a 20 year old solo-traveling girl from Switzerland. I spiked the conversation several times, mentioning her braid and rebellious outfit. I believe I also complimented her hips and freckles. I spotted that she wore a paper bracelet from a club and teased her of being a party girl. She showed it and explained she went to a club in Budapest (green flag). I got the number but wasn’t sure about where I was. The set felt more friendly than sexual. She was leaving Prague for Switzerland in two days. Would this be a time waster?
I pinged her that same evening at 9 PM given the short time frame. This girl was not a great texter in the sense that it took her hours to reply to a message. Perhaps not so interested after all… Eventually agreed to meet tomorrow, on her last night in Prague. The texting only got worse from there: she went to a museum and didn’t reply to my invitation to meet at 9 PM.
I was knackered from hitting the streets hard with my wing, so I wrote off the set as dead, went home and got into bed - perfectly content to doze in with a book1. At 10 PM I glanced at my phone one last time ans saw her message: “I’m free now”. Fuck. Am I really going to crawl out of bed to chase a flakey set that leaves tomorrow morning while I have to go to work?
Yes.
I pinged her and got dressed. As I walked with dreamy eyes across Wenceslas Square approximately 15 minutes later, I still had no answer from her. After 20 minutes of radio silence I got impatient and called her. She didn’t pick up. By that point I felt like a complete idiot.
Finally she replied “Ohh i didn’t get the notification”.
I was in to deep and was going to run this set to its conclusion. Finally we met up at New Yorker. She came all dolled up and gave me a beaming smile as we met. This quickly dispelled my anger and I visibly relaxed. She was hotter than I remembered her: short, lithe body, with firm tits and shiny long blonde hair. I decided to bounce her to a cocktail bar down the street of my apartment. (Un)fortunately the bar was packed and there was no place to sit. I led her outside and down the street in the direction of my apartment. We were now standing in front of it.
I remembered I had to work tomorrow morning, so the thought of looking for another bar and getting more pissed on booze didn’t excite me. I decided to pull the trigger: “hey, my flat is right here. Let’s just sip a glass of mine at my place”. She was suspicious and rebuffed with a smile: “oh no! I know what happens when a girl walks up to a guy’s flat alone”. I told her to relax, and gave her my promise that I wouldn’t fuck her2.
We climbed up to my place, sat on two chairs at the table near my bed. I ran my usual kino escalation examining her rings and hair. I sat myself closer to her so she could examine my trinkets. She enjoyed my music and visibly relaxed, she put her legs on mine and leant back. I realized I probably should have kissed her sooner, but now the signal was obvious. There was no resistance.
Soon we were on my bed making out. She gave me two hard no’s as I was trying to pull her panties off. Third base was all I’m getting tonight.
She was enjoying it, so I turned her around on her back and got on top of her - face-fucking her into the pillow. All the frustrations of this night evaporated as I came all over her face and mouth.
I was satisfied.
She was fun to be around with, so I put her into long game and am pinging her stuff about our motorcycles every now and then.