I’m getting laid faster than I can write reports these days and now have a back log of four to get through. I’ll start with the most recent and keep them all short and sweet…
At around 9pm on Thursday evening I was having a beer outside the Argyll arms with Xants and Mr S. I’d only done 3 sets during the daygame session due to sheer exhaustion – the previous night I slept with a cute little Argentinian that kept me awake until the early hours of the morning.
Mr. S and I were discussing how great our new flat is and the opportunities it would present to us. Then out of the corner of my eye I spotted a browney Slavic looking girl slinking past. Iva was a slim, late twenties brunette with a pierced eyebrow and olive skin. She wore a black vest, black short shorts and black knee-high leather boots. I’d put her in the high 6/low 7 bracket.
“Mate, she’s got Roy written all over her!” declared Xants.
“uuuuuugggghh…. OK” – and off I went.
I got in front and the hook was instant. I don’t remember specifically what I said, but it was something along the lines of how I liked her Slavic slinky walk, like she was a cat, or a spy, or something.
Then she hit me with this husky voice –“Oooooh wow, this is sooo cool” – she sounded like a bad girl from the Bond movies and I told her so. Iva told me she was Croatian and had recently moved to London. She was on her way to meet a guy and was angry at how he was making her meet him in a pub. I told her he sounded pretty alpha. We chatted a bit more and then she said;
“You know what, fuck this guy, can I go for a drink with you instead?”
“Now?.. Uhhhm, OK”
As I started to walk her in the direction of my apartment her phone rang… It was the guy… she hesitated and then answered…
“YOU’RE SUCH AN ASSHOLE! Why won’t you come to meet me?!”
It’s fair to say she was angry at this alpha chap.
“I’ve met a cool Irish guy and I’m going for a drink with him instead – ASSHOLE!”
I’d never seen such blatant hypergamy in action. Then she was quiet for a minute as the guy calmed her down over the phone.
“OK, OK, OK! I’m coming – ASSHOLE!” – Iva hung up the phone.
“So, we’re not going for a drink then?” deduced me.
“No, I don’t like to let people down. But can we do it another time? You seem really cool”
I took her number and off she went. I returned to the lads – “another nutter, why’s it always me?” I pondered.
I awoke on Friday morning to a stream of messages from Iva, I hadn’t even sent her a feeler. Her last message was “are you free for a drink one of these days?”
“OK, what time?!”
“Oh, I’m working to 11, can we meet after that?”
“OK” – that my friends, is a sex date.
I ended up meeting her at 23:45 at Tottenham court road station and walked her in the direction of my apartment. There was only one bar open, a little speakeasy on the corner of my street. But because all the other bars were closed, they had a DJ and made it into a little night club. We had one drink before I invited her to my apartment to have wine on the roof top. She necked her drink as soon as I suggested this and said, “Let’s go!”
We smoked cigarettes and drank wine on the rooftop as we got to know each other some more. I found out Iva was actually born in Bosnia (NEW FLAG!) but grew up in Croatia. She upped and left with only £100 in her bank account and no idea how she was going to survive. I admired that. But then she started telling me too much. She didn’t like the guy from the previous night, but she still had sex with him. This turned me off massively. I sat there trying to decide if I still wanted to go through with it and Iva noticed that I had gone quiet… “is this weird for you? Shall I go home?”
“You talk too much, I don’t need your life story”
“Oooooh I’m so sorry, this is just how I am”
“OK, well some advice, don’t tell guys about other guys you’re banging”
“OK, I’m so sorry”
“Come on, let’s go back down to my flat”
I took her straight to the bedroom, the clothes came off, I made sure to rubber up and we had sex. We went at it 3 times, I came the first, she came the second and I the third. As I pulled my dick out after pounding her hard in the doggy position, I looked down to see the condom all shrivelled up around the base of my cock. FUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCK.
Iva started freaking out…
“Oh my God, I don’t want kids!! Do you have anything?? When’s the last time you got tested?”
“Not that I know of… don’t worry about it, sleep here, I’ll take you for the pill in the morning” Said me.
“Why are you so relaxed?! This is fucked!!”
“It’ll be fiiiiiiine, you worry to much” – inside I was freaking out too.
Iva took herself for a shower and I laughed to myself on the bed as I thought of Jacob Zuma’s infamous quote…
Iva returned from her shower and announced “Well, we may as well do it again because I’ve probably already got whatever you have…. And you owe me one more orgasm”. So, we did it again.
The next morning, I took her straight to the pharmacy and then I even bought her breakfast. I won’t be seeing her again.