Changing My Sheets | First Date with Miss Thick

Just had a another first date. My second “first date” since I’ve been back from Japan. I said recently that I was itching to get back in “it.” After the date with the virgin, and this one, I feel like I am back in the “it” of the Daygame lifestyle now. Not just hitting on girls on the street… but getting them out as well. It feels good.

And the girl was sexy and charming. I liked her.

I started out the day with Siren. Simple, delicious date with her last night. Some food, walking back home together in the rain. Back in my apartment, she played some of her music for me on her laptop. She is a very talented girl.

Then sex. And sleeping close. We slept late, and showered, and I sent her off to an appointment she had at noon.

And then I changed my sheets.

This is a bachelors’ ritual that I have been performing for some time now. I want to sex young girls. And one thing I do toward that end is to prepare the “seduction location” (to put it in very dry, logical terms). To say that another way, I clean up the fuck nest.

The sheets themselves were mostly clean. I put them on the night before, just for the Siren. But I changed them after she left as they have her perfume, the sweet smell of her body, and the tangled evidence of her long beautiful hair.

As I had a date with a different girl, and there was at least some chance of bringing that girl back to my home, I want clean sheets. And I swept the hardwood floors, as I always do… To get all the signs of “girls” out of the space before the next one arrives.

As a bachelor, I have spent a lot of time changing sheets. I do this before almost every date with a new girl. As I have been dating more, I am changing more sheets. In Japan, that meant going to the damn coin-laundry a lot. In my apartment here at home, it’s easier.

The changing sheets is symbolic for me. Cryptically so. There are practical things about that ritual. And the changing of sheets says something, not just about my lifestyle, but about my psychology.

And I realize that many times this is a wasted effort… as that girl isn’t going to come home with me. And it may be a further wasted effort… as perhaps signs that other girls have been in my place can be a good thing? Perhaps.

Maybe a girl flops into my sheets, sees long black hair on the pillow, has a flash of heat and competition… and fucks me with an extra shot of enthusiasm?? I imagining that for the bar-back type of guy, or the dirty rocker, he never changes his sheets nor even thinks of it… and yet the pussy in his life is very willing. He might laugh at my little ritual. He might be right.

And yet in other ways… The “clean sheets” are symbolic of my preparation, my forethought. This is the type of man I am. My life is a pretty well-oiled machine. I have my shit together, so of course the fuck nest is ready. And that preparation adds solidity to my game. My inner game. Less friction and self-doubt for my seduction. One more reason to feel confident about pulling a girl home. I often prep the house, even for a daygame session, as… you never know.

And even if she doesn’t come back… I am living a clean, well-ordered lifestyle. That is for me. Solid.


Anyway… back to the girl.

She was one of four leads from last Wednesday, a very fun day out with Pancake. I only did five approaches that day but took four numbers.

I often talk about being on a “hot steak,” usually on a day when do a lot of approaches. I am always advising other daygamers to do high-volume days of approaching. High-volume gets me more exposure with girls, but it also allows me to warm up… which can help bring on a hot-streak. Volume is a good thing.

This is the only example in my 100+ days of game where I had a low-volume day and also managed a hot-streak. Pancake and I both had plans, or we would have done more. I bet I could have closed a lot more that day. I was on.

Anyway… This girl was not in my favorite girls of the day. She was my first approach. I liked her, totally attractive, but she didn’t stand out for me as much as the others.

She is Chinese (and I am becoming a minor expert in Chinese girls at this point). She is tall. Pretty face, long black hair. Long skirt. She’s not what I would call perfect, but she definitely caught my eye.

She had a tattoo on her ankle. That surprised me. She is not “American” Chinese. She is authentic Chinese. Native Chinese girls don’t usually come with a side order of skin art.

And something else… When I was out with Miss Nature last Friday, it came up that the Chinese students at the Art College in this city… they come from money. I know that, and I agreed with her. It came up last week when I was out with Siren. I know she comes from money as well. All these art girls do. There are interesting girls, with interesting backgrounds.

This is a very expensive city. To be an early-mid 20s girl, paying rent here, plus tuition at a private art school… not cheap. All this translates to wealthy parents.

So this is a clue that she is a rare bird. A rich, native-Chinese girl, mostly conservative looking, but with a tattoo… Unusual. I have wondered about that tattoo since then. I wonder about her in general.

I heard this quote on a podcast that said:

“If it ‘smokes,’ it ‘pokes.'”
— Some guy on the internet

There is something crude about that, and yet it caught my attention. That tattoo is her “smoke.” Does that mean she is more likely to be “adventurous.” Is that a signal she is a rebel? Does that mean she is more sex-ready?

NASH: Fun to meet you today… You were interesting, and I am a little curious about you.
HER: Sorry, I was doing my homework

That was my first response from her, three hours after my initial message. That’s not sexy, but she is qualifying there… Explaining herself. I like that.

The next day I did what Tom Torerro might call a “lifestyle ping” when I made a comment about her homework and then sent her a picture of my lunch. Enthusiastic replies. She was sharing. More giving value from her.

It occurs to me as I wrote this that as men we are taught to not “take value,” to always give. And most girls give fucking nothing. So almost any response from a girl is a full green light. She was giving… That seems on.

NASH: I talked to you because I thought you were cute… Very nice lips.
NASH: But I think it is interesting that you are an artist.
HER: Thank you, you are an artist, too

I had given her a sticker when I picked her up… “sticker game.” And now I sent her some pictures of my art. We talked about paintings. And then:

NASH: Speaking of paintings… There is a good show at the museum. I am a member. Let’s check it out together…

Some back and forth and then:

HER: Tuesday should be fine

I pinged her yesterday to make contact and make sure she knew it was still on for our date. Nice reply. Some more chatting. Even more “adding value” from her. We were on, very solid.

I didn’t remember that much about what she looked like, so I did the trick I mastered in Japan… I got there early, msg’d her about where I was standing and told her to come find me. Then I put my head down into my phone (I read Cobrantula’s blog, actually… what’s up, dude.), and let her identify me.

She shows up on time, and she looked… Fucking great.

She is tall, 5’9″, face is better than average, totally cute by my standards. Really beautiful hair.

And boobs. I don’t really care about boobs… But this girl, looks like a full C. Generous C on a Chinese girl. I just spent the night with the lovely Miss Siren, who has a fantastic body, fucking amazing (very much like a teen model), even though she is nearly flat chested… And this girl, big tempting boobs. Ummm.

I was surprisingly interested. Go boobs.

She wore a long sleeve knit top — with lacing back and forth across her cleavage — and black jeans. All black and grey. And the jeans were tight. She has a slightly flat ass (which I think is a genetic thing for the Chinese, no “z-access”), but it was still full, and also tempting. Her hip-to-waist ratio isn’t ideal, she does not have a tiny waist… But the thigh/ass combo had me fully inspired. She is juicy.

She is lovely, feminine, and a little thick. At her age — maybe 25? — she wears it well. Very hot girl.

So we shall call her Miss Thick. Sounds a little dirty. I like it.

Siren got me off last night… But looking at Miss Thick, and the sparkle in her eyes, I wanted to fuck this girl as soon as I saw her.

Zero awkwardness. We start chatting, hopping from topic to topic. We get tickets… And check out the exhibit. Which is excellent and gives us a lot to talk about.

And she is a another genuine artist. Talented. For real. She has been studying art in a concentrated way since middle school. At this time in her life, she is on her post-grad degree, her 2nd art degree. I like her, I like her art, rad girl.

And I think about the look on her face when we first met. First, the surprise. Then the suspicion. Then the blend of suspicion mixed with curiously. That is how we left it as I took her number that day.

On this date… The look had changed. She had that energetic smile. She was happy to be there. She still had an air of caution — and she should. I am a bad, older, dangerous man. But this is the kind of danger that young girls love to find. I could see it in her eyes. She was a happy girl, out on an adventure.

We did not talk sex. We had so much in common art the art level and that is a “mastery topic” for me, so I do well when I have that space to show value. It is a mastery topic for her as well.

“Fleshing out your own ‘mastery topics’ or areas of conversation that you could speak about in order to build attraction and a connection quickly”
— LoveSystems

I touched her a bit. My usual move of grabbing her by the bicep. And I had my hand on her lower back as I moved her around. And I grabbed her hair in a dominant way several times… Light, testing that with her, not really going for it.

And while she was clearly energetically into it, she was still rocking that cat-like girl-energy. Big smile, but a little “out of reach.” That part of cat where she isn’t quite curled up in your lap just yet.

So the main move I employed with her was the body-rock. I kept giving her my focus and attention, and then small takeaways as I would rock back on my back foot, leaning back, away from her. This is one way to keep a cat engaged and curious.

“Cats don’t take orders, but they can be tempted to chase. If you tie a feather to the end of a string, and use it properly, YOU can get a cat to perform acrobatics. But isn’t it interesting that if you put the feather down in front of the cat, she will turn up her nose?”

(^ That is an “OG” game reference right there… super classic.)

I planned the date for 3:30, knowing the museum would close at 5 PM, and we’d be in a good position for drinks or dinner… if it was on.

Meanwhile… I was sick. Beginning of yet another bad cold. My 4th in three months. Unbelievable. But I am very glad I did not cancel this date.

As the museum closed I walked her out. I invited her to have a drink… I had a spot in mind, two spots actually — one with, and one without alcohol. More “being prepared.” But it was mid-term week and she had to get back to her studio, she said.

I walked with her to the main street. I said, “hey, give me hug,” and got a nice, juicy hug in response. Those big boobs pressed against my chest. I told her I wanted to see her again and she said we can talk on WeChat, and we have.

WeChat. More shared art. More enthusiasm from her. It feels pretty on.

We have a date set up for this week. I’ll change the sheets before I leave the house.

Viva daygame.