This is the only lay report I’ll write up from my recent two-week trip to South America (there were four new notches in total and one new flag – Venezuelan). I wanted to write notes on it because she was one of the hottest girls this year and the sex was some of the best in 2017.
I had decided to take a day off from hustling to explore some of the tourist sights of the city. A daygamer on a notch trip is often plagued with guilt that he’s flown thousands of miles just to walk around another identikit shopping mall. Even though I was on a number farming mission it was important to have a break from pickup and see some local culture.
I took a taxi to the Old Town full of colonial colour and character, even though some girls I’d been dating had warned me against that part of the city because of armed thieves. Wandering around the squares and narrow streets nestled into the foothills of the Andes was a great daygame detox. I headed to museum of pre-Hispanic gold and satisfied my inner nerd for the day.
I stumbled out of the darkened museum into the bright sunshine and headed back towards the Old Town in search of good coffee. Coming towards me I spotted a tall skinny girl with shoulder length light brown hair, spray on hipster jeans and a tiger print top without a bra underneath. She looked completely out of place in South America, more like something you’d find in London or New York’s Soho. The daygame gods had delivered, perhaps because of my sacrificial museum visit.
She stopped to hear what I had to say (I made fun of her tiger top and her London style) even though her English was pretty basic. She was 22, a model and a student of fashion. She was indeed South American but said she had Italian genetics far back. The conversation was simple but the eye contact was fizzy and sparky. I suggested coffee there and then but she said she had to go to her studies. We made basic plans to do something on the weekend, exchanged WhatsApp and then split.
The messaging was direct and to-the-point, as my time in the city was running out and I had other leads to try and close. I suggested an “adventure with Tom later?” and she replied that Sunday would be better.
We exchanged photos on Sunday (always good to remind them of what you look like and get compliance from her) and then I bit the bullet again and suggested meeting “later.” She made the excuse that it was raining outside her house. I sent her a screenshot of the forecast showing it was going to clear by 14:00. She replied saying she’d finish her study work and then come out.
* Note – WhatsApp time stamp is off because I’m back in the UK
An hour or so later she said she was coming out and that we could “take a walk.” I sensed her trying to snatch the frame and derail the date, so replied mocking her by calling her “boss” [“jefe”]. Both of us were replying on Google Translate so the meaning got a bit muddled, but we agreed to meet at a bus stop near a park. I planned to walk her from there to a bar near mine.
Of course (as is very normal in South America) she was late and then changed the meeting place at the last minute. Another attempt at frame control. She had no data or wifi connection so had gone to a nearby supermarket to text me. I was starting to think that this date was going to be a waste of time.
When I met her by the supermarket I gave her a light-hearted telling off about being late and disorganised but then quickly moved on to simple vibing as we walked in the direction of my area. She’d clearly dressed up – a lacy white top, again with no bra underneath, skinny jeans and boots. Her mood was adolescent -like, dreamy and chaotic. As we walked she’d bump into me, touch me and be floppy when I did some incidental touching back. All good signs for a first date lay.
I was getting really horny already because of her visibly ample boobs on her skinny frame, the “thigh gap of glory” which her skinny jeans showed off and her catwalk-like face. She looked like a hot carefree girl you’d see in a 90’s indie band music video – all my teenage fantasies came flooding back. I loved her sexual energy that oozed out of her, perhaps because of her modelling confidence, but I tried my best not to show it.
The conversation was again basic because of the language barrier, but we both used our phones to do some of the translating. I suggested a beer in an English-themed pub around the corner from my apartment, but when we got there it was closed (Sunday hours) so we made do with a local bar across the street. She wanted to smoke so we sat outside, but the waiter came over and said that smoking wasn’t allowed. I seeded the bounce home by saying she could smoke from my window, pointing to my apartment block.
As we drank our beers and I ran the usual date questions on her (via Google Translate) she told me that:
- she didn’t like relationships
- she preferred tall guys (not the shorter local guys)
- her passion was hard house and partying hard
- her teenage love was the British pop-rock band The Kooks
These were all the green lights I needed. One small beer in that venue was enough. I could sense that she’d come to fuck, but I didn’t know her time limit when she had to get going so I ramped things up. From the bar we walked the two minutes to my apartment and soon we were sitting on the sofa drinking another beer from my fridge and looking at her modelling pictures on her Instagram.
A player has to be very wary of “Beta Bait” that a hot girl throws out to trip up thirsty guys at the last minute. When a girl shows off her modelling portfolio or endless selfies surrounded by glamorous people, it’s vital you don’t take the bait and supplicate, showering her with praise like an average joe would do under one of her Facebook pictures. A good trick is to point out something in the background and make fun of it (“you need to tidy your room” etc).
I changed the subject by opening up Youtube and getting her to show me the tracks that she liked. The tunes she put on were dark, aggressive forms of house like a 90’s rave. The accompanying music videos featured fucked up human forms in basements performing BDSM with chainsaws and animal costumes. Enough green lights to pick up the laptop, take her by the hand to my bedroom and start making out, then grinding.
And then the magic words: “You have a condom?” I reached into my bag and realised that I’d used the last one the evening before. Beginner’s error. I unzipped my jeans, got her to suck me off (which was the best blowjob of the year) while she wriggled out of her skinny jeans and I fingered her as she sat on the bed.
Suddenly she stopped mid-blowjob and changed the music on my laptop. She put on a twerking music compilation track (I didn’t protest) and then danced around my room, bending over and wiggling her ass at me. God bless the sexual confidence of South American girls. I went inside her as she knelt on the bed and then spent the rest of the night happily nailing her to more and more twisted tunes.
I remember looking down on her mid-fuck and suddenly feeling incredibly grateful. Me, a 37-year old scruffy Welshman deep inside a hot 22 year old model who had the sexual energy of a tiger. And all from one spontaneous approach outside a museum on my “day off” from daygame.
All hail the Street Hustling gods!