Fridays evenings are very hit and miss for the old daygaming. Usually my vibe isn’t on point as I’ve typically been sat in front of a screen all day without speaking to any humans. I’m usually tired from the week and my urge to sack it off and go to the pub is overpowering. Most girls are in groups and are either in a hurry to get home and doll themselves up before hitting the town, or they’re on their way out. But, sometimes, just sometimes there is a solo girl wandering around begging to be SDL’d (Exhibit A). This is not one of those stories…
Friday 22 February
I was solo and I’d been blown out 6 times from the previous 7 sets – the pub was calling. As I stood outside M&S having just relieved my bladder I pinged the lads to see who was up for a pint. Of course Mr S and Xants were well keen. As I put my phone away and started to make my way to Carnaby street I saw a short little black girl with curly hair dressed all in black perched against the wall with her head in her phone.
My taste in women seems to change with the seasons. For me, a woman of any colour can be hot and if she’s hot enough I will open. At that moment in time my cravings for a black girl were reaching jungle fever pitch levels – I hadn’t had one in 6 months!
As I opened her head lifted slowly from her phone and she gazed at me as I ran through the prattle. Something about her looking like she could be one of the backing singers in a 60’s motown band. She didn’t react and carried on staring at me as if she was trying to see into my soul.
Can you speak?
What? Oh, yeah, of course.
You seemed to be in a daze.
haha maybe I’m still jet lagged, I only arrived from Australia a couple of days ago.
Oh I assumed you were English.
Lisa told me she was from Melbourne and had travelled to London in search of a job so that she could realise her dreams and explore all of Europe with London as her base. Sounded familiar. We had a lot in common and chatted for a good ten minutes before she told me she had to go meet her friend. I took her number and we went our separate ways.
Later that evening I sent the feeler – she read it and didn’t reply. BALLS.
A few days later I sent her a photo ping of me in the gym. She sent me 4 messages in a row apologising for not replying and asking how I was. LIVE LEAD!
I offered up Thursday or Friday for the date and she chose Friday. Always a good sign if a girl is giving up her Friday night for you.
Friday 1 March
We met at Baker street station and she was 15 minutes late. I actually thought she was flaking as she wasn’t much of a texter, she didn’t use emoticons and took 24 hours to reply.
Lisa looked great – black heeled boots, black fishnet tights, a red miniskirt, a black blouse showing off just the right amount of cleavage and a brown furry coat. I took her to the usual two venues, first a pub and second a speakeasy.
I found out Lisa was 24 and wasn’t from Australia, she’d only been living there since she was 13, this explained her darker complexion. I prodded some more and she asked me to guess where she was from, telling me that I’d never get it. “Challenge accepted!” said a smug me, having spent a long time in Africa myself. I went through all the big countries; South Africa – No, Nigeria – No, Zimbabwe? – No, Congo? -No!, Cameroon? – No.
OK, I give up, just tell me
Say what now?
It’s a country? – I’d genuinely never heard of it.
Lisa had an aloofness about her and seemed to know what she wanted from life – a rare quality in a young girl. She didn’t do social media, didn’t like texting and had never done online dating. She told me that she had never been in a relationship and wasn’t looking for one. She had only ever been on three dates.
So you’re a virgin?
What do you think?
I guess I’ll have to wait and see.
I got her back to the flat that night and was kissing her on my bed, I went to rub her vagina over the top of her tights and felt a pad…
It’s not your lucky day.
Damn! Which day is it?
I could always put a towel down.
Her drunk friend rang her shortly afterwards and she jumped in an uber to go meet her. I had no idea if I’d see her again.
I pinged her the following Sunday and she was still keen so we agreed to meet the following Thursday. On Wednesday she sent me a link to a bar in Covent Garden asking if I’d been there. I told her I hadn’t but I could see where this was going, she knew where I lived and wanted to meet far away from my place. I told her I might take her there some time.
Thursday 7 March
Around lunch time I text her telling her that I’d meet her at Bond street station, ignoring her suggestion. We agreed on 7.30pm.
At 7pm she text me a google maps location to another bar telling me that she was having a drink with a friend. She was trying to take the frame again and I was preparing for a long night ahead. I checked where it was on the map and it was actually quite close to my apartment – “OK, I’m running late, I’ll be there closer to 8pm.”
I arrived at the place to find that it was a very nice wine bar, she had inadvertently found a new date venue for me. Lisa was sat on a high stool alongside her friend. I approached them both from behind, stood between them and tapped Lisa on the shoulder.
Heeeeey! How are ya?!
Lisa introduced me to her friend who was a proper Australian.
Ah you sound way more Australian than her. – I gave Lisa another tap on the shoulder.
Born and raised! Anyway, I gotta go, I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it!
Her friend upped and left and I took her stool and ordered some wine. We caught up on the weeks events and I’d noticed that her hair looked different, she’d straightened it. I ran my hands through it, pulled her in towards me and took a sniff.
Ah coconut, I like it.
Hey! Don’t pull my hair!
You don’t like having your hair pulled?
Well, it depends on the situation – Lisa had a mischievous smile.
Ah I see, so like if you fell down a ditch and I pulled you back out with your hair?
Yeah, I guess that would be one situation.
You wanna be careful, there’s lots of ditches around here.
Lisa laughed and punched me on the arm. It was on. I walked her to another basement bar near my apartment and we sat alongside each other on a couch. There was lots of kissing and she could barely keep her hands off me. As we finished our first glass of wine I suggested we go for a walk (back to mine).
OK, but I need the bathroom, can you wait here a sec?
I sat there waiting for half an hour! Was she drunk? Was she being sick? Was she taking a massive dump? Had she run out the back door? I discounted the last one as her coat and hand bag were still with me. As I was about to ask the waitress to go into the bathroom to check on her, she emerged and didn’t offer up any explanation or apologies.
Did you fall down the toilet?!
What took you so long?
I just needed to breathe.
You feeling ok?
Yeah, I’m fine!
You want to go home?
It was odd. I walked us to my place anyway and she came in. Lisa told me she was starving and hadn’t eaten all day. I cooked her some toast and a cup of tea and we chatted nonsense in the kitchen for about an hour. It was now pushing midnight and I had to be up for work in the morning.
I took her to the bedroom and the clothes came off quickly before she said “Where’s your condom?” – The sex was weird. She liked kissing a lot which was nice given that she had big juicy lips but she didn’t like it when I was rough and wouldn’t let me bang her doggy, she also refused to suck my dick. I blew a load into the condom and we lay there chatting for a few minutes. I attempted the usual debrief but she gave me nothing – she refused to answer when I asked her the last time she’d had sex, how many times she had sex or when she decided to have sex with me. I was intrigued, but one thing was for sure, she definitely wasn’t a virgin.
We went at it again for about an hour, raw dog this time, but I couldn’t cum again. We both collapsed in a sweaty mess at around 02:00. I forgot to set an alarm and woke up at around 08:30, the lights were still on and the music was still playing on my laptop. I woke her up and told her she needed to leave. Lisa ordered an uber and was gone by 08:45. I have no idea whether I’ll see her again.