Lay Report: Losing the daygame lottery


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Nice bike.

This lay was TWO whole weeks ago, the longest I’ve ever put off doing a report after a lay since I started this blog. There are three reasons for that;

  1. This lay slots firmly into the vanilla category as discussed in the preamble of my last post.
  2. She wasn’t that hot. High 6, low 7 at best.
  3. I’ve been rather busy and am struggling to finish anything at the moment. I’ve got 4 posts half written, one will be a little controversial and I look forward to the pot being stirred when I publish it.

I will keep this relatively short due to reasons 1 and 2…

It was the beginning of August, a beautifully sunny day in London and it was probably the first day I felt upbeat after traversing the worst of my post Euro Jaunt blues. I was solo, popping off set after set and had just number closed a high 8 that was leaving the next day.  We arranged to meet for a drink later that evening and all I was thinking was SDDL, my vibe was reaching peak Euro Jaunt levels on Oxford street. Madness.

I walked towards Tottenham court road with a big grin on my face and people probably thought I was crazy. I spotted a short athletic looking brunette walking towards me. She was wearing tight jeans and a white boob tube which showed off a tanned, flat stomach and a nice hip to waist ratio. I didn’t get a good look at her face but she had a cracking body.

When I got in front I saw that her face wasn’t as good as her body, she looked older than her athletic frame, maybe late 20’s and her skin was tough, it had seen more than enough sun. I produced words of which I no recollection and she seemed to like them. As I talked to her I had a quick look over her shoulder, she was very short so this was not difficult. In the distance I could see the 8 I’d just closed walking straight towards us. FUUUUCK!

I left control of the set to my well drilled muscle memory and assessed my options.

  1. I could carry on as normal and hope the 8 wouldn’t see me talking to this rotter (in comparison)
  2. I could grab rotter by the arm and pull her into the shop we were standing outside
  3. I could leave rotter for dead
  4. I could request rotter to walk with me

I went with option 4. I turned and started walking away from the oncoming 8, yes, it went against every fibre in my being. Rotter followed. We jabbered on about fitness, I told her how I had just bought a new pair of trainers and how I don’t normally wear trainers, I normally wear big manly cowboy boots, trainers are gay. She was lapping it up and starting lots of new threads of conversation. I glanced back over my shoulder and the 8 was keeping pace about 20m behind us. I thought for certain she will have seen us. We got all the way to Tottenham court road, I looked back again and the 8 was nowhere to be seen.

I tried to idate the rotter but she told me she was on her way home to pack before she went on holiday to her home country of Portugal for three weeks. Great.

I took her number and we went our separate ways.

I pinged the 8 an hour before we were due to meet (we agreed in set) and it stayed on two grey ticks, she flaked. She must have seen me with the rotter after all.

Rotter was a very keen texter, sending me the first text and sending me lots of beach pics whilst she was on holiday. If I ever had to bet my house on calling a notch before the D2, I would have bet it on this one.


We set up the date for the day after she got back from her holiday. She turned up dressed to the nines and was wearing pink high heels, a beige dress which parted at her stomach to show off her impressive midriff and had put on quite a bit of make-up. I turned up in my usual jeans and T-Shirt and voiced her disappointment before even saying hello, “this is you dressing cute?!” I made an internal memo never to use the “dress cute so we match” text again.

I took her to two pubs then took her home and banged her. She put up resistance every step of the way, but it was all face saving. I just knew from the way she was texting before our first date, the way she dressed and how she reacted to nearly everything I said that she was gagging for it. However, it took me 5 attempts to get the first kiss, 3 invites back to the flat before she complied and about 30 minutes of LMR in the bedroom.

I’m still wondering what could have been with that 8, the joys of daygame.

Lay Report: SDDL a Scottish Persian

She was curvier than this, but this is more or less what she was wearing

Most lays are quite vanilla in that I follow the same routine and get more or less the same outcome, expecting anything different is the definition of insanity, right? However, some have a few quirks which you learn from that reinforce the harsh reality of male and female mating strategies. This is one of the latter…

Yesterday (Friday) my good friend the Cheshire Gent (CG) came down to visit me from Manchester, he would be sleeping on my living room couch which is next to my bedroom for the weekend. I got back from work at around 17:30 and he met me at my apartment to drop his bag off. I was quite tired after a stressful week at the office, however, CG regaled me with tales of his daygame adventures in my old stomping ground and lifted my vibe with his seemingly never ending positivity. We hit the streets at around 18:30. We took our first lap up Oxford street towards Tottenham court road. I announced “My intent is very low, I’m only doing a set if I see a ratbag with SDL written on her forehead.” CG popped off a quick set or two as we made our way up the street. The sky looked ominously grey and the heavens threatened to open at any minute. As I commented on this to CG a short Persian looking girl dressed in black doc martins, black jeans, a black boob tube and a black leather jacket came walking towards. There was no IOI but my SDL radar felt a mild beep, there was a bit of hip sway, she was walking quite slow and her eyes were wandering. I looked at her, looked at CG and he said “you have to do that one!” I knew he was right.

I got in front of her and it was on before I opened my mouth. I motioned her to stop with my hand and she planted her feet firmly in front of mine and gave me a beaming smile. I told her she was pretty in a biker chick kind of way and asked her where her helmet was. We chatted for around 5 minutes and I found out she was born in Scotland but grew up in London. One of her parents is from Afghanistan and the other from Pakistan, hence the Persian look. She had just finished her shift in a hipster coffee shop and said that she needed a drink as she was exhausted from talking to so many people all day. She seemed to be full of energy and I told her this, again I was leeching vibe from another person. I told her she had crazy eyes but I liked them and immediately she jerked her head forward and made big eyes at me. This girl was bat shit crazy, PERFECT.

I suggested a drink there and then, she said sure but was supposed to be meeting a “friend” who is currently running late. I told her she could meet her friend after.

We took a walk down Charing Cross road and the heavens opened on cue just before we ducked our heads in the Montague Pyke. I got us both a beer and we sat a table opposite each other up stairs.

I carried on the comfort fluff, examined her tattoos and noticed she had piercings but was not wearing the studs. I examined her black nail varnish as I stroked her hands she squeezed mine back. It was on.

We chatted about travel, her hopes and dreams and her current living situation in London. She was 22 and lived with her mother, they are both estranged from the rest of her family and she hadn’t spoken to her dad since she was a child. BINGO!

As we got to the end of our drinks her phone started ringing. It was on the table and I could see that it was a good looking guy calling her. She answered and told him she would be there in five minutes.

So that’s your friend you are meeting?

Yes, but it’s just a friend, he has a girlfriend and always asks me out for relationship advice

Ah, so you’re an agony aunt?

I’m great at giving advice, if only I could follow my own

OK, well it’s almost 8pm now, I’m meeting my friends for dinner but lets meet at around 10pm for another drink

Yes, that sounds like a good idea

We left the bar and had a cigarette before going our separate ways. I returned to CG and we joined Ricky and Mr W for dinner and a beer. She pinged me as I sat down to join them and this was the proceeding text exchange…

As you can see, I broke just about every texting rule in the book, but I knew it didn’t matter.

She was around 40 minutes late for our meeting and she sneakily changed the meeting point to H&M. As I stood there waiting I stuck my head up towards Top Shop, I could see her hugging a tall man and that he was trying to kiss her. She kept turning her head away from him and just hugged him back. I could see him walking away to get on the tube at Oxford circus. She then called me asking where I was. I told her I was where she asked me to meet her. She walked over and I could see that she was a little bit tipsy.

There was no apology and she tried to lead us to a bar. I pulled her back by the hand and slapped her on the back of it. I playfully told her off for making me wait and demanded an apology which she duly delivered.

I lead us to the Finery around the corner and as we stood at the bar she told me about her evening…

I’m sorry I was so late, but my friend bought me dinner and wine and we just had such good conversation that I lost track of time

Ah, so you did the pair of you crack world peace?

Noooo, he kept complaining about his girlfriend and telling me how great I was

Ah ok

Yeah, then he tried to kiss me at the end, like he always does

I sniggered to myself. This guy had clearly friend zoned himself and was hoping to wine and dine his way into her pussy. I asked her if she thought men and women could be friends and of course she said yes.

As I got the drinks I pointed to a big round table with a couch and told her to grab it, I would bring the drinks over. I did so and she got the wrong table, a high table with stools. I brought the beers over and told her off again for getting the wrong table which had now been taken by another couple. I started the questions game and these were her first questions;

How many women have you slept with?

Would you describe yourself as good in bed?

Have you ever thought about having sex with a man?

I asked her some sexual questions back and then she went off into a rant;

Modern society sickens me, we get shamed for following our natural desires, I mean this is London, what’s wrong with having a one night stand every now and then? I mean sex is great, I’ve had lots of one nights stands, well not a lot, I’m not a whore, but I enjoy sex. We will probably have sex tonight and never see each other again and I think that is beautiful.

You are preaching to the choir little lady

Don’t call me little!

Ok short arse

We finished our drink and it was now almost midnight. I walked us towards my apartment and she didn’t even ask where we were going. I got to the front door and up she came with no resistance. I gave her a little tour and poured us some wine. We went into my bedroom and I played her some tunes on the guitar. She has very similar taste in music to me so she was entranced.

I put the guitar down and she started showing me some videos on Youtube as we lay on the bed. Before long our clothes were off and she said the magic words “do you have a condom?”

We had sex for about 2 hours straight and to say she was wild would be a massive understatement, she really liked to deep throat and was quite dominating saying things like;

Fuck me harder, spank me !

Thats it, thats iiiiit

Make me cum, make me fucking cuuuum!

We recovered for about half an hour, she put my red Trump T-shirt on as we both had a cigarette out my window. I finished mine first and started to fondle her ass from behind as she was bent over with her head out the window. She started wanking me off and I got hard again very quickly, I went inside her as she was moaning wildly with her head out the window. It was around 3am so not many people walked by.

She left the next morning at around 10am, I was so exhausted from dehydration, lack of sleep and my ball sack being drained that I had a pounding headache. I must be getting too old for this shit.

After she left I went into the living room to catch up with CG. “Maaaaate, I could hear everything, all I could hear was your little plums slapping away and I didn’t get a wink of sleep all night… I had to piss in a bottle!” He pointed to the mantle piece and a bottle of water was filled with an illuminous yellow liquid. I cracked up laughing and apologised, these are the moments I will remember when I’m old and grey.



Russian Riddle

c84e9631e618d292daffe31fd86a36a3--mini-skirts-mini-dressesI have a lay report to write from Thursday night, but I’ve opted to share some misery first as I have learned more from it…

A few saturdays back I decided to do some daygame in my Trump T-shirt. I’d gotten a few reactions but didn’t trigger as many people as I hoped I would. I’d been out on and off all day but I felt quite tired as I’d been out drinking the night before and had a crappy night’s sleep.

Anyway, its late, around 9pm and I’m winging with GG. It is eerily quiet on Oxford street for a Saturday night and it’s starting to get a little bit chilly. I walk with GG for around 45mins, he does a set or two and I don’t see anything I like. It’s my turn to do a set when a tall blonde walks towards us. GG wants to open her “I’m doing it if you don’t” he barks at me. Don’t you worry GG, I shall be opening this set…


I open and guess that she’s Russian and accuse her of being a spy. She starts to talk and I can hear by her accent that she is indeed Russian. We talk for a minute or so before she asks if we can walk, she doesn’t like standing and talking. We walk up and down for 5 minutes before I suggest a drink. She agrees.


In the bar I got a beer, she a glass of white wine. I pointed at high stools, she said no and pointed towards the couch. She’s already stealing the frame, but for the better.

She tells me she’s been in London for 5 months. She’s studying English, her English is good and I am already picking up on her good sense of humour. She lived and worked in Moscow but grew up in a village and is 29. She’s a low 8, probably would have been a 9 a few years ago.

I asked her where she was on her way to before I spoke to her and she said “I was waiting for someone to talk to me and take me for a drink and you were that guy.” This girl had obviously been daygamed before. I told her she was funny and she said “well one of us has to be.” Feisty.

She quizzed me on my Trump T-shirt and started asking if I actually liked him. I’d dropped myself in it now.

My mother told me to never talk religion, politics or work to a lady

She persisted and started telling me that she really liked Trump until he got in office. I told her I liked his charisma and his leadership before quickly changing the subject.

We finished the drink and I told her I wanted to go home, I was really tired even though it was now only around 11pm. She seemed disappointed, I went home and she carried on “walking”.

We pinged back and forth, arranged another date for a week later only for her to cancel on the day. I thought that was the end of it.

I pinged her again a few days ago and surprisingly she agreed to meet me for a drink on a Friday night.


We agreed to meet at 9, I text her at 8.30 telling her I’d be there at 9.10, she said she would also be late. I told her the last one there would buy the first drinks. I got there first as you can see above, she eventually rocked up at almost 9.30.

She had made quite an effort wearing black boots, tight black jeans, tight black t-shirt and a black blazer, she wore dark purple lipstick on which accentuated her big pouty lips.

I started walking her towards the cock tavern and she complained that she didn’t like the look of it, she preferred more European style bars. I told her she was in England and should appreciate the local culture before conceding and walking her to a cocktail bar further up the road called the lucky pig.

It was noisy and crowded but she liked it. I walked to the bar, ordered myself a beer and her a glass of wine and reminded her that it was her turn to pay. After I had ordered the drinks she said she didn’t want wine and ordered herself a cocktail. I drank the beer and the wine, both on her tab.

We found a little corner, she sat on the ledge, I leant against a wall. I asked her if she had ever played questions game. She said “yes, last night with a Russian guy.” I was shocked and didn’t hide it very well “Oh, ok, well what rules did you play?”

You have to tell the truth and you can’t ask the same question back [1]

Yes that’s more or less it.

She was now making it very clear that she had been on at least one date with another daygamer. After this she prodded away for weakness with each question;

Have you ever dress as a woman?

Have you ever been so drunk that you don’t remember anything?

Did you have an embarrassing nickname at school?

I asked her which nationality of men she found most attractive. Without hesitation she said “Spanish, they are tall, dark and handsome”. She is now clearly signalling that she is not attracted to me, or at least that’s how I took it.

We were in the first venue for just over an hour by now and I had gotten very close to her lips a few times as I leaned in to either hear her or to speak in her ear. There were a few moments I could have went for the kiss and in hindsight this is when I should have done it.

I asked her to tell me something about her that I would never guess. She started telling me some crappy story about how she helped get her drunk friend home one evening.

I waited patiently for her to finish this story before announcing “Let’s go”.

She seemed shocked, I started walking towards the door and she followed. When we got outside she asked why we were leaving. I told her it was too loud in there and that I wanted to go to a normal pub. It was now 11pm, and the two pubs near my flat had closed.

This just isn’t your night, is it?

Nothing is going to plan

What did you expect to happen by now?

We both knew what she was asking, I didn’t react, I let her walk ahead a little and pulled her back by her arm in the opposite direction to go to another bar that I saw was open nearby.

The seating arrangements were crap and it was noisy as well. I could feel her becoming less and less interested and I was caring less and less as the time passed. We forced each other to carry on with the questions game but it was more out of politeness more than anything else. I had lost the frame completely and I couldn’t be bothered to try and wrestle it back. I decided to crash the car…

when was the last time you had sex? – I looked her dead in the eye as i said it.

 I’m not answering that, you can’t ask me these questions.

It was last night then.

I had totally lost the frame by now but I was passed the point of caring. I may even have been a little jealous at her previous evenings date. The car was crashed. We left the bar at around midnight and i meekly invited her back to my place, she laughed and said “no thanks.”

I walked her back to Regent street so she could catch her bus. As we sat at the bus stop waiting I grabbed her chin and went for the kiss. She pulled away very fast.

I tried again when her bus came, again she rejected me. I said “Fine, goodbye.”

Part of me wants to have solid game to overcome girls with such a strong frame, the other part just wants nothing to do with them. The riddle I’m still trying to solve is if I actually like this girl. She’s an 8, smart and funny but she is also a princess and openly hypergamous. The player in me enjoyed the challenge and chode in me found it irritating. As I left her at the bus stop I was relieved, I could relax and didn’t feel like I had to put on a show anymore.

Learning Points

  • I should have escalated earlier, I was intimidated by her hotness and her strong frame
  • I shouldn’t have been so reactive when she told me about her date the previous evening
  • I’m still fucking up the basics – venue selection
  • I need to get better at deciding if I actually like the girl or if it’s pure lust
  • Maybe I’m not that good at this game thing


[1] I first saw Ricky do this and I’m copying him.