TL;DR: Met a 21 year old Polish girl online. Date was very fun, sex was ordinary. Observation about transactional vs. interactive sex embedded in post.
I rarely venture online these days but was having a sex hiatus and wanted a shake up while on holiday.
I reached out to a 21 year old Polish girl in anticipation of a trip to Krakow. She talked about “dream” in her profile and I pinged her with “A Dream is What Your Heart Makes” from Cinderella (Lay Report 003 – Cinderella: A Same Day Lay Story). (Q: Has anybody used existing ideas with previous women on new women?)
We traded contact details and started chatting. She was free on Saturday night and wanted to meet up for a drink.
Let’s call her Laura Palmer.
I arrived in Krakow by bus from Budapest and made my way to the serviced apartment. My head was turning from all the women here – TodayGame had told me it was better than Germany – and they they just seemed feminine and beautiful.
I was under no illusions – I was not planning to move to Poland to access women like many players. I actually have a job and life at home. But the thought counted.
Some texting between us and then a meetup at 9pm. Sounded ON.
We met at one of the theatres on the edge of the old town.
“Excuse me, I’m looking for a girl with a black heart … but you seem rather too innocent to be her.” She laughed and we greeted each other.
It was a nice opening and I remembered Magnum’s maxim about complimenting and teasing within 30 seconds of the date.
I called her by the name she sent me and she laughed – it wasn’t her real name. I had mentioned my name in passing self-referentially and she was surprised: “is that your name?”
As we strolled along the river, I asked her about one of her passions and she mentioned – very unexpectedly – Twin Peaks.
“She’s dead – wrapped in plastic!” Every kid in the nineties remembered this line from the TV show as it was constantly paraded on television.
I laughed at her little passion and teased her about cherry pie, Laura Palmer, the theme music, and Fire Walk With Me – and the fucked up moment I saw people in rabbits while watching David Lynch’s Inland Empire. We ended the conversation with a rending of Blue Velvet:
She wore blue velvet
Bluer than velvet was the night
Softer than satin was the light
From the stars
She wore blue velvet
Bluer than velvet were her eyes
Warmer than may her tender sighs
Love was ours
Ours a love I held tightly
Feeling the rapture grow
Like a flame burning brightly
But when she left, gone was the glow of
She wore blue velvet
But in my heart there’ll always be
Precious and warm a memory, through the years
And I still can see blue velvet through my tears
Kazimierz and the Kit Kat Club
Laura Palmer and I sat down for a drink in the Jewish quarter Kazimierz and she told me about her twelve months living in Düsseldorf.
She had originally escaped small-town Poland, graduated to big-town Poland (Krakow) and then went to live with family in Düsseldorf.
“Would you pick family or friends to live with?” I asked.
“Definitely friends – family don’t give you any freedom”. She replied.
So I asked her why she loved going to Berlin so much.
“Kit Kat…” she drifted off after that.
I immediately knew now I was dealing with an Adventure girl.
She had never been there and wanted to – she wanted someone to lead her to these experiences. She was so desperate for new experiences that she was prepared to move to Berlin to discover them.
But still, as a woman and submissive, she wanted someone to lead her there.
I liked this girl.
I tend not to delve into dark humour but she hinted at it on the date. I also noticed she used a stream of black heart emojis in her text.
I asked her about … older guys during a brief Questions Game.
“Well, to be honest, I lost my virginity when I was 20 to a 30 year old guy”, she answered honestly. “It was great.”
We then talked about her first boyfriend who was Polish. I hinted that they ended the relationship because she was bored.
“Yes, he was from Ozwiecim (Auschwitz), only 1.5km from the concentration camp. He was just so boring, wanted to control me and wanted me to get married to him. I don’t like Polish men – they are too square”.
I remembered a scene in Pygmalion where I played Henry Higgins, egging on one of the characters to do something bad and swear in front of everybody.
“So tell me, you like black humour. You said he was Ozwiecim – what did you do to that relationship?” I asked gently.
“I sent it to the gas chamber”. She replied drolly.
During dinner we joked about our common love of people watching. We then took a seat in the main plaza of Krakow and watched the people pass by.
“What’s their story?” I asked as a beautiful Polish girl walked past with her ordinary boyfriend.
“She’s bored,” she said. “I’ve been there.”
“Looks more like a hot Polish girl who thinks to herself – ‘why is this boyfriend dude so ugly?'” I remarked.
She laughed. We were on common ground.
“What about this loud chubby American guy with this hot girl?” She asked me.
“One word – friend zone. What will happen is that he will talk in her ear all night …”
She completed the sentence:
“… and she will end up going home with someone else she just met”.
“Here’s one for you”. I leaned in (fail!) and whispered in her ear a RP Musicology quote:
“I want you in my bed tonight.” I leaned out and started talking about my mother.
She just sat there wide-eyed and giggly. Fuck, I could have pulled her three hours ago.
Laura had hinted at never having been to a stripclub – unlike The Italian Waitress – and so I spoke to the waiter in the restaurant who directed me to one of the touts handing out flyers in the street.
The young lady kindly took us to the club and then escorted us to an empty room, having bypassed the room with dancers and patrons. I played the False Takeaway and told her we were going, so she directed us to the busy room.
We sat down and ordered drinks – another round of GTs. A chubby dancer was dancing listlessly on a pole and I could see Laura’s body language shut down.
“This is shit,” I said, preventing the complaint. “There are no good dancers here”.
Two strippers brought “complimentary” shots over and sat down with us. (“Don’t drink them”, I warned). We made up a cover story that she was a German student and that we met online and planned our first meeting in Krakow.
“But she looks Polish”, Alexandra the tarty stripper asked.
“Her mother is from Poland”.
Laura and I spun this fake story for the pleasure of these two strippers. Their hearts melted as we told them of our meetup story. I whispered in Alexandra’s ear that we needed to go as I wanted to fuck this chick silly. Alexander interjected:
“Can I have fun and just tell her in Polish? She won’t understand as she is German!”
“No, no, no – you’ll spoil the fun. She’s a Good Girl and we need to go to church tomorrow.”
Arriving at the house, she walked in and immediately recognised Chet Baker on the wall. The deep irony of this is that I sang a rendition of Chet Baker’s version of Time After Time to The French Banker and tweeted about it just before I left for the date.
If only Chet knew how important he was to me musically, but more so helping me fuck chicks.
Finally, after a long date (not a Nash mega-date), we got down to business and started making out. It was a gentle make out – I had the strange feeling that she wasn’t that into me and didn’t really want to kiss. It felt … transactional.
Observation – Online vs Daygame Women … and Genuine Desire
A strange observation I have made with online vs daygame women is that the online dates and sex feel like they are missing a beat, like Steps 1-4 of the Seduction dance are just missing.
I wonder whether online accounts for a higher level of DNA mismatch or low-level desire compared to initial face-to-face interactions.
Of all the sex I’ve ever had, the most intense has been with women I have seduced from an initial face-to-face meeting. Bumblebee tops the list – and will always.
And one of the best indicators for transactional vs. interactive sex is … whether they kiss you. The Brazilian, the Swede, the Kiwi all didn’t kiss goodbye, whereas the French girl was an intense kiss goodbye, a real romance.
I slowly undressed myself and took her hand to slide into my jeans – she softly resisted but eventually I got it down there.
Her dress came off, bra and undies came off, and I started fingering her while kissing her neck.
“Let’s go”. She went up to the mezzanine and jumped on the mattress. I ate her out and laughed and complained about my beard. I thought – lady, how about the cheap razor blade effort on your private bits?!
She crouched into a yoga rest position with her bottom in the air. I almost had to hold off a laugh as she looked exactly like how my son would lie on the bathroom floor when asking me to wipe his bottom after a poo.
I put on a Sagami and started fucking her. No rubber will ever replace raw sex … and while I used one I did not get the sense she even cared whether I did.
I went soft – probably from a lack of genuine desire – and started fingering her, failing the Rivelino (!) test. A long G-spot massage here and a thumb on the clitoris worked wonders and I sensed she had an orgasm and then collapsed.
I went on fucking, put on Nash’s second-best 0.03 condoms, moved her around to positions I wanted (especially where you can bear hug, slap, choke, pull hair and pin her down) and eventually ripped the 0.03. off just before blowing on her back.
Work required – – – Work completed.
Job well done.