Iron Hot, Strike

I awoke Saturday morning in an extremely fancy hotel room overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. The single mom had awoken a couple hours previously as was her custom. The reason for the fancy hotel was that her employer had company party and had paid for a hotel room for every employee. It was a fine party and I had met her colleagues, good folks, all of them.

I was up at about 8:30am. My phone had a text from the single mom. She was down at the beach. “Call me when you’re up”. So, I did. She came upstairs to the extremely fancy hotel room. The conversation started with something like “we can’t see each other any more.”

Oh well.

I didn’t even ask why things didn’t work out but I have a hunch. It’s time to see a physician to get some issues straightened out for me. I gathered my things and packed my bag. We parted amicably with wishes of good fortune in future relationship-hunting. After a quick motorcycle ride, I was at my place at about 9:30AM.

Back home and in front of my computer, it was time to hit the Plenty of Fish online dating website. I updated my profile to keep it fresh and then checked out the local online talent. Eh, the usual suspects were displayed.

At 11AM I get a “[redacted] wants to meet you” message. I get those fairly regularly from usually large and unattractive women. This one was different. It was from a reasonably attractive (and thin!) woman of German origins of the first generation type.

While normally I would wait at least 24 hours before responding to such a message, I took a chance. I sent her a message a few minutes later:

“It’s always a bit flattering to get one of those ‘Wants to meet you’ messages. Thanks.”

She responds 15 minutes later:

“OK, you can call me at [redacted). I just started ‘fishing’ so I’m not familiar with the appropriate procediure, oh well. What do you have in mind and where?”

Note the misspelling. That becomes significant later in the evening. Also note that she was a new fish and not accustomed to the online game of delay or ignore messages.

I respond right away with my phone number and a recommendation for a local ice cream joint within walking distance of the Private Man’s modest abode. I no longer go to them for first dates, they come to me. This is my standard procedure for me.

At 2:50PM she calls me. Perhaps European women don’t play the waiting game. This is rather refreshing and quite the change from the usual pattern of endless back and forth nonsense of emails, calls, and texts in order to set up a first date. She’s got a moderately thick German accent but her English is proper and correct. I eventually learn that she is the daughter of a German (western halve) cop.

During the call, I skip with the idle chit chat and suggest that she meet me at 5PM. Once again, this is quite the break from standard protocol. Sometimes a fast escalation is appropriate.

Two hours later, I’m standing at the nearest intersection to the ice cream parlor. I’m wearing my motorcycle jacket and holding my helmet. Frankly, I’m peacocking. I see her walking towards me across the street.

She actually matches her online dating profile photos and that’s refreshing. With her nice smile and slender physique, I give her a 7 body and 6 face. We enjoy some ice cream and then move on to a local bar where she buys me a beer. I actually told her to buy me a beer. Hell, she’s European and I figured I could get away with it. We chat and I introduce her to some of the local villagers at the bar, a rather eclectic bunch.

At the end of the date, I mention a local PoF (Plenty of Fish) singles event that is being held later in the evening. She seems eager to attend but also mentioned that she had to see a movie with a friend before attending the event. No matter, I insisted that she must go (tell, don’t ask) and that I would be there at 10PM or so.

Let’s fast forward a few hours. I took a nap in the interim. I ride over to the PoF event and find it quite crowded. It’s time for some night Game. The German is no where to be found. No matter, I quickly snag a phone number from a hot, but a bit curvy South American woman at the back bar. It took all of ten minutes of mild game to get her interested. It also helped that I know something about South American geo-politics

A few minutes later, the German calls. Thanks to the royally shitty AT & T network, it goes right to voice mail. Based on her voicemail, she’s at the bar but in the front. This is good because I don’t want her to see me chatting up the hot South American.

The South American departed and that gave me time to call the German. Bear in mind that we are at the same place – the South American was with me in the back and the German was by herself with the thick crowd in the front. She answered and we agreed to meet outside the bar to smoke. It was clear that she was a bit drunk and feeling frisky.

We chatted like friends and I was in good form. She volunteered that she was embarrassed about the misspelling in her online message. I didn’t brush that off, I used it as a way to establish my frame. “You’re darn right I noticed that. I have high standards for good writing.” Her body language told me that she was taking a submissive stance.

After awhile, I read her body language and went in for the kiss. We had been standing quite close to each other and it was easy to put my hand on the back of her neck to move her head towards me. Quite the kisser she is.

As the event cleared out, the German got more frisky. Each time I went in for a kiss, I pulled her towards me with my hand on her neck and lightly tugging on her hair. At one point she straddled me on my chair to kiss me (in front of a bunch of others patrons at the bar). I think her shortish skirt rode up and she was displaying her ass. I didn’t ask.

Venue shift! “We can make last call at a place near me.” She was up for it. I got on my motorcycle and she was following me. We parked at my place (she didn’t know it at the time) and then we walked to the local joint for last call. We sit at the bar and she’s trying to pull the dominant and strong woman thing. I don’t play her game and do some aloof maneuvers.

After last call – only time for one beer – I lead the German to my place, a scant 150 yards away. Instead of walking her to her car, I take a quick right hand turn and a few steps to my door. She comes right along with me.

We sit at the dining room table, talk, smoke cigarettes, drink beer, and kiss. Good kissing. I didn’t pull the seducer thing but still showed dominance by kissing her. Why I was so restrained I really don’t know. She was quite drunk at this point (about 3AM) and I offered her the sofa for her to sleep. She declined and stated that was going to drive home. I am not keen about letting drunk folks drive but I also understood that I can’t actually risk a confrontation over car keys and responsible behavior.

The next morning I called the German and left a message. “Did you get home safely?” Shit, she was drunk the previous evening and I was genuinely concerned. I didn’t expect a return call.

At around 8PM, the phone rings. It’s the German. She tells me that she is OK and had spent the day on her friend’s boat and was out of cell phone range. She admits to being drunk and asked me to fill in the details of the previous evening. I told her everything including the kissing part.

During the phone conversation I told her that we will be having a second date. She was surprised because she knew she had been a rather fiesty pain in the ass the night before.

“Relax, I can handle it.”

“You’re a strong man, I guess you passed the test.” Her voice sounded a bit sheepish but also relieved.

“Of course I did.” I had solid frame during the phone conversation.

Her attempt at dominance the night before had been a shit test of sorts. It figures. She asked about the second date. I told that it was my job as a man to handle everything. That pleased her.

Looking back at course of events and her attitude, it was clear that the German was attempting to Game me with verbal dominance and almost aggressive physicality. At one point in the evening she told me that if I ever slapped her ass she would kick my ass. So, when I was walking her back to my place, I smacked her ass and hard. She tried to kick me in the ass but it was fun to quickly dodge away and then grab her neck for yet another kiss.

In vino, veritas. The German was certainly full of piss and vinegar (as well as beer) the previous evening and I Gamed her solidly with strong negs and total confidence. Hell, I even got her to buy most of the beer. Throughout the night she was adamant that I was doing the first date thing all wrong. I countered that I was doing everything right on a first date and proved it by kissing her. Understanding the difference between words and actions is absolutely vital.

I maintained my frame throughout the whole night and found that it wasn’t so difficult to maintain my Game. My confidence was boosted significantly when the South American woman gave me her number. In fact, I just texted her. Successful dating means having options.

Posted by theprivateman on June 20, 2011

http://theprivateman.wordpress.com/2011/06/20/iron-hot-strike/