British Museum Same Day Lay

Same Day Lay

 

My first London Same Day Lay in a long while and worth writing up because of the convoluted sequence of events to get the notch.

Before flying to Russia a few days ago I was in London to see family and friends. I was up for trying some lazy afternoon daygame to prepare me for the Russian battles so I messaged a wing John to see if he was up for it. We arranged to meet inside the British Museum after lunch.

I got there early and meandered around the Ancient Greeks gallery looking out for cute lone tourists. Most were in big groups or with their families so it was hard to find sets. A French girl blew me off before I’d got further than the compliment, just as John was due to meet me.

In the lobby under the mightily impressive glass roof I suddenly saw a Spanish looking girl passing me and giving the briefest of IOIs. She was heading for the gift shop so I doubled back and opened. Her eyes lit up.

She was 24, originally from Uruguay but spent most of her life in Argentina. Brunette, dark eyes, skinny, kooky fashion like a girl you’d see in a 90’s alternative rock band with sexy tights.

It was easy to stack about her eclectic dress sense and creative vibe. I told her she looked like Bjork and she lapped it up. She’d moved to Manchester to work for an airline and was down in London alone getting some culture (as well as a tattoo on her hip modified to hide a teenage error). All green lights. Time for an instant date to the nearby coffee shop in the foyer.

My phone wouldn’t connect to the museum wifi and I had no data left so my attempts to tell John what was happening failed. It was around 12.30pm and I felt bad wasting his afternoon by getting him to trek over to the museum.

Over coffee she told me she was staying in a hostel, that she’d travelled in Europe, that she was into 90’s rock like the Red Hot Chili Peppers and that she was a book/film/museum junkie. I worked out she had nothing to do all day and that her train to Manchester was in the morning.

The bounce to Soho was simple as we were both hungry and she was keen to see the “real London.” We grabbed slices of pizza from a shop on Old Compton Street, a kinky area in the centre of the gay village full of bondage shops that I playfully covered her eyes from.

From there it was up to the old John Snow pub near Carnaby Street where we drank lager in an alcove as I explained why original London pubs often had screened off areas (to hide romantic liaisons from prying eyes).

The verbal and physical escalation ran smoothly: astrology, her choice of men (she’d been single for a year), comparing tattoos, pulling her in to hug. After half an hour I went in for the kiss and got it. I knew the Same Day Lay was on the cards now for sure. It was going to come down to not fucking things up.

When she went to the toilet I connected to some free wifi and messaged John what had happened.

After the pub she was keen to find an underground bar she’d read about online called Cahoots, inside Kingly Court nearby. I was happy for her to lead as the plan involved alcohol and somewhere I’d never seen despite years living in London.

It was a 1940’s-themed cocktail bar right below Carnaby Street. Cool but full of tourists. We perched at the bar because it was so full and drank our cocktails pretty fast as it all felt a bit too much like a theme park.

From there I promised her something far more authentic just up the road. I took her to the blues bar Ain’t Nothin’ But which was packed with locals watching the afternoon jam session. As we went to smoke outside she got talking to two Italians next to her. I was shut out from the conversation so got chatting to an English musician next to me. Sure enough she reengaged with me when the Italian couple went inside.

As I went for a pee two more Italian guys had sat next to her outside and when I returned they were chatting her up good and proper. This time I befriended the guys and then made sure to get her out of there as soon as our beers were finished!

With the afternoon ticking away and all the venue changes we’d done, the buying temperature of the pickup was actually decreasing. It was now around 6.30pm and I knew I had to bounce her towards my hotel next to Paddington Station. It was a good 45 minute walk so I was calculating on how to get a cab back there.

As we walked up to Oxford Circus she was messaging someone. “All good?” I asked.

“I’m messaging my old boss to see if she wants to meet” she replied.

Shit. Time for the bounce to mine asap. Luckily her friend didn’t reply. I told her I’d show her another old pub in Paddington and get my coat. She agreed but said she first wanted to get her jacket from the hostel near Russell Square (the opposite direction to Paddington!).

The walk to the hostel felt like an eternity. I could feel the buying temperature plummeting further. Was she just going to wave me goodnight when we got to the hostel?

I sat in reception while she went to her room. This was the make-or-break moment. And finally there she was, back in reception with her coat and bag, telling me she was ready for Paddington.

I flagged down a black cab and made small talk as we headed for my hotel area. Once there I said I needed to use my bathroom and get my coat, crossing my fingers as we climbed the hotel steps that the receptionist wouldn’t cock-block (I’d only booked a single room).

Luckily I got her back to my room without a hitch and she sat on the bed as I went to the bathroom and changed. I opened the laptop and showed her some travel photos as she put on some Manchester classics: Common People (Pulp), Cigarettes & Alcohol (Oasis), What Difference Does It Make (The Smiths).

Sitting turned to hugging. Hugging turned to kissing. Lights out and just the glow of the laptop.

“I thought we were going to the pub…” she grinned.

“Ten minutes, hugging is good for you” I smiled back.

Hand on dick. Fingering over tights. Fingering under tights. Clothes off. Rushed sex where neither of us lasted long because of the long build up. Joy Division’s “Love Will Tear Us Apart” and The Stone Roses’ “I Want To Be Adored” rang out as we fucked on the squeaky bed. Suitably “Champagne Supernova”  by Oasis wrapped us in a post orgasm glow.

She knew I was travelling on. I knew she was just as transient and fleeting. We both knew that the day’s adventure had been a magical bubble that was about to pop. New Order’s “Blue Monday” played us out as we put on our clothes and I called her an Uber back to the hostel…

“Tell me how does it feel, when your heart grows cold, grows cold, cold…”

 

 

3 thoughts on “British Museum Same Day Lay”

  1. Such an appropriate venue for the story: art is merely the totemic byproduct of an expressive erection seeking a home. Art is for humans what the tail is for the peacock.

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