My colleague Coach Kondo had encouraged me some months back to try a sugar daddy site that a mutual colleague – SG – had been successful with. SG had made his way through 34 girls in little over four months – a preposterous figure backed up by photographic evidence and testimonials. Kondo and I called it Seeking Game.
Kondo did not believe I was “all-in” and had failed to materialise the prize of laying young hot birds as I was more interested in ego service through blogging and weak attempts at night game.
He wanted me to be like Roger Federer – a steady hand, churning through matches and getting results.
The Set Up
I joined the site and chose my best professional photos including a few pictures of me singing and playing the piano. Like many curious men on dating sites, I scrolled through the male profiles to scan the competition and saw a selection of dreadful images – men with half-eaten heads in the pic, bathroom selfies, and late night shots over a glowing laptop. I would have hated to be a chick cutting through the crap to get to a top quality guy.
I came across an young 21 year old Asian girl who appeared to be photoshopped looking quite exquisite in designer clothes, impeccably made up and with cheeky eyes underneath tattooed eyebrows. We matched and started chatting over the app Kik – essentially a chat program where you cannot see the person’s phone number.
I had a lapsed Kik account from a failed attempt at Ashley Madison and so my profile was “200 days on Kik”. You could filter the gold diggers from the curious girls by the day count – some ambitious chicks had 1000 days or more.
The chat over Kik descended into one of the strangest exchanges I have ever had with a girl. We started with pet names – “Peach” for her, “Coco” for me. She was Swedish, originally adopted from Korea, and in Australia for a year on a working holiday visa.
I asked her what she liked about my profile. “Well, firstly, you have photos. And you are handsome”.
Soon our chat was in the form of rhyming couplets. We started writing long form poetry to each other, interspersed with sexual comments, our respective fruit names, and jokes about other sugar daddies she had.
Peach and I had planned to meet each other on the Sunday for dinner and drinks. I was using the date to scope out what kind of Frame I needed to get her without making any kind of financial arrangement – to be a Salt Daddy of sorts. My plan was to end the date if she suggested an arrangement at any time.
I had signed up to Snapchat just after I fucked the Brazilian and still had an active account. Peach and I had been texting via a number after transitioning out of Kik. Snap was a step further and allowed me to sexualise the interaction a bit more.
I sent her a picture of some Shibari rope – she asked whether we were going sailing.
I sent her a picture of a vibrator – she asked whether it was lipstick.
I sent her a picture of two butt plugs – she asked them if they were bubble bath containers.
I liked this girl. She seemed fun and dirty for her age.
Our Sunday date fell through due to the spurious claim that she had thought she was working in the morning and not the evening. Seemed like bullshit but I let it roll off. We scheduled for the following Sunday.
She sent out a follow up text for a Tuesday night meet up. I was already committed to a Freemasonry meeting and could not meet her.
On the Tuesday she sent me a message asking what this formal occasion was all about, signing off with “fuck that, I’m horny”.
I arranged to go to the Freemasonry meeting and left precisely at 9pm to get back home and then to Kings Cross by 9:45pm. As I left the meeting, the Master of the Lodge looked at me with a tiny glimmer in his eye and knew what was up.
I knew the lay was assured but held reservations about the lack of seduction and whether I would like her. I consulted my Red Pill neighbour and he told me one of his guiding principles for laying girls – “honour the reach out”:
“It’s a free kick from a girl. Even if you don’t feel like fucking – honour it. Strike while the iron is hot”, he said wryly.
I spoke to RP Musicology as well. He told me to just run the date as if it were a normal date and to go Mode One (his pet love and a strong acolyte of Alan Roger Currie) early on in with strong sexual intent.
Kondo had described me as more Nick Kyrgios, the upcoming Australian player – temperamental, prone to outbursts, and lacking nerves of steel when push came to shove.
I calmed my nerves and made my way up to Kings Cross, channeling Federer.
Peach turned up on time and was smartly dressed. She seemed like a designer girl, a little overdressed for the average Australian evening, and strangely a little plump in her outfit. I was beginning to worry she was not as tight as my due diligence investigations on Facebook had found her (in bikini on Ibiza with girlfriends).
We went to a cocktail bar in a former stripclub and began to get to know each other. The average guy would have been happy to fuck this chick within minutes but I felt that the direct booty call reach out was running against my instincts as I genuinely wanted to seduce this girl … so I started gaming her in the normal way – and it worked. I felt like I could have seduced her under different circumstances.
At one point she remarked how many thought she was Brazilian as she was tanned and Asian. I mentioned that she reminded me of a Japanese Brazilian girl I had dated. She was offended and said that she did not like to be compared to other women.
“Why?” I demanded. “Why? Tell me why.” She was silent. “To be honest, I don’t really fucking care whether you like that or not. This is me and this is how I talk. Now, this is my arsehole moment in the date – you like that, don’t you?” She nodded. “It turns you on just a little”. She nodded. “Now, where were we?”
I asked her about Sweden. She found the guys boring, the country safe, and wanted a change and some freedom. But what about younger guys? I asked. She returned it quickly: “I don’t date puppies. I date men”.
The date went well and we soon came to the end of our drinks. I made an observation: “You know what this means? I say ‘lets go’ and you come back to my house so I can fuck the shit out of you.”
We left and I grabbed a taxi for the house. She was safe and put on her belt – very Scandinavian. Jumping out, we had to cross six lanes to get to my place. In usual fashion, I spiked the moment by running her across the road with cars coming. We were safe – obviously – but it always gives a girl a jolt before a fuck.
I had just set up my mini bar and she poured us both a drink. We made out – her lips were soft although I did not sense she was a big kisser. I took her to the bedroom and she lamented not having a matching bra and underwear.
“Try this.” I offered her a Japanese dressing gown. “Get naked and wear this. I mean – what kind of girl comes for a booty call without matching underwear?”
When I returned to the room she had let her hair down and looked breathtaking. I undressed her and asked her to jump on the bed for a massage. She was …. the hottest girl I had ever seen in my bed – tanned, perfect skin, great figure, and with incredible hair. She was my ideal woman.
I gave her a full body massage while we drank and smoked. Complaining of tight shoulders, I made her get up and then get on her knees and give me a blowjob while I massaged her. Vanity before dignity, she complained the oil would get in her hair and so we tied it back.
The blow job was good – but as a man I wanted to fuck so got up, picked her up and just threw her on the bed.
The underwear came off and I ate her out – ass and all. I tested a finger in her ass and got a not-so-interested response. She was a vagina girl.
Turning her onto her belly, she had a half-burnt cigarette in her hands and was flickering it out the window. I had had enough by this stage and just took her from behind and started fucking her while we passed the cigarette to each other.
I always like to test for penetration by putting a girl on her side scissors-style and seeing how far I can go before I get a jolt out of her. She jolted – my job was done. It was like a dick-measuring test to see what had entered before me; and an ego test to see whether I could make her feel like my cock was big enough for her.
Soon I had her in a standing doggy and started fucking her rhythmically and in a trance state. I remember seeing Rocco Siffredi, the porn star, fuck in this position, with a delicate hand crossover at the base of her spine – thanks Rocco. Handing her a vibrator, she made good use of it and came hard – in total two or three times.
When I fuck there is a like a switching gears moment when you go from fucking mode to cumming mode – I had her on her side and fucked her until I blew my load all over her side and back. It just kept coming – 38 years of sexual frustration and player envy meted out on the back of a young svelte Sverige girl.
We cuddled and eventually settled into sleep. Two hours later I got up for work – unwashed, unkempt, and fucked up. I made coffee, gave her head, and left the house with pussy juice on my beard, black coffee taste in my mouth, and the thought that I had just smashed the hottest girl in my life.
1. Always honour the reach out from a girl. It’s a free kick.
2. Sugar Daddy sites are, in my opinion, a platform where 50% of girls are looking for money and the other 50% are looking for experiences with older. I know there may be some disagreement about “Salt Daddy” game which is why I have documented it here. This girl was looking for experiences and I only had to offer what I would normally offer on a date – drinks and perhaps dinner.
3. Online dating creates a disconnect between the woman and the man from the outset as they have yet to trade DNA compatibility, sexual desire, etc. I sat on the date generating desire by gaming her in the usual manner.
4. Young girls rarely, if ever, ask for a condom. Women in general don’t seem to care as much for STIs as they do for pregnancy. TIP: if a girl insists on using a condom, give her head and make her cum hard. She will then more likely pull your penis in raw as she wants to feel you inside. Not an advocate for/against – just citing my experiences.