Breakfast Date (A Lay Report)

How do you set up a date to get a girl into bed? Common wisdom says: Meet late, for “drinks.” One drink, and then maybe another in a more intimate venue. Then bounce her back to your place. Everyone knows “drink dates” are the sexy dates, right?

I like Game stories that open our eyes to possibilities. This story is about an everyday possibility that shows the fundamentals are much more important than the venue, liquor, or the time of day.

I took the girl in this story for a first date for coffee and conversation at 9:30 AM on a Tuesday morning. We talked. She wasn’t quite finished with her coffee when I said: “I am going to the bakery to get some bread. After that, I have to go back to my place to get my books for school. Come with me.” She agreed. We bought bread. I took her back to my place…

We had sex.

If I were Roy Walker that would be the whole story. But since I am me, I have more to say.

We’ll call her Miss Breakfast. And I met her that week, via daygame (of course).

“She was tall, tight jeans, great ass, slow walk. I opened her, she checked me out, and when she answered my first question, she basically PRESSED HER BODY UP AGAINST ME.
— From my notes when I picked her up

She is not (actually) that tall, but it was a crackling good set. I have opened thousands of girls and very few of them step in on me like she did. She both turned me on and was a little too much for me.

Despite being somewhat intimidated, the set went well. I took her number, and we started texting.

She was messaging me a lot. More than just responding to my messages, she was “reopening” me.

Maybe she felt she’d found a “bold man?” Maybe she was a “yes” girl?

That week I was working through a ton of new leads and had six dates with five girls. I was juggling timeslots, and she was saying “nights were busy,” so we set up a lunch date.

As the day arrived and I got a text from her. It came unexpected and at the time of day that often means a girl is cancelling. “I can’t.” Guys will say “that always means…” but this time, it felt like an honest cancellation. She sent several messages with times to reschedule. I had three other new girls to date in the next few days, so I wasn’t overly desperate or eager.


HER: I want to make up for yesterday

I haven’t written about Miss Healthy (wonderful girl, and a +1 from November), but I also had trouble getting her out. At one point I offered to meet her for a “breakfast date” before work some day. As she ended up in my bed one evening after she finished work, I didn’t get to test my “Breakfast Game.”

A breakfast date is totally irregular, but that was part of the appeal. There is a myth that “lunch means friendzone” (amateur comment), but I have closed several girls over lunch (I am not an amateur).

Could I meet and close a girl for “breakfast?”

I took a shot at the breakfast setup:

NASH: Have you ever had a date with a strong man in the morning before?
NASH: I am happy to see you at night
NASH: But if you are so busy…
NASH: We can still have an interesting date in the morning

She accepted.

That would mean I would (in fact) get her out before things fizzled. But more than that…

Good seduction is about masculine/feminine tension. It has nothing to do with “nighttime” or “drinks.” Guys argue, but they never really try the alternatives. They pay more attention to the booze than the fundamentals of leadership and escalation… so they don’t know what is possible.

I showed up to the café early and managed to snag a good spot with side-by-side seating (more important than “drinks”). I pinged her and she responded quickly saying she was on her way.

I didn’t really know much about her: I knew she was 23, and was going to college to study pharma. I had these assumptions: That she was a little bold, that she might have some sexual experience, that she might be a “yes girl.”

I looked up, and… there she was.

She looked fantastic. Big, beautiful, black hair, full of curls (and a few, faint highlights). She wore a black down jacket over a big, flowing sweater. And… a very short skirt. Big thighs. Knee-high boots. Great look.

I met her eyes, and she paused a little. I stared at her. She gave me no giggle, no “little wave,” only a cold, confident march over toward me. She took off her coat. She had already bought herself a coffee. She turned around, sat down next to me, crossed one sexy thigh over the over and…

The date began.

This girl was all attitude and eye lashes. She wasn’t a sweet girl or full of charm. She had edge.

She was never rude, but her comments had a consistent coldness to them: She was “not interested in other people.” We talked about the typical Japanese “kawaii” cuteness and she said “I hate those girls.” As for boys and dating, “to be in love is annoying,” she said, “I always want to be free.”

You get the picture?

I bantered back at her with a similar edge, challenging her, “breaking rapport,” disagreeing with her. I touched her (a little). I was more serious (and less sweet) than I might be with a softer girl.

Did I like her? It’s amazing how we talk so much about girls but rarely ask that question.

Yeah, I did. I liked her crispy energy. She was a bit of a “bitch,” but never directed that energy at me. And she was very sexy, down to the beautiful perfume she wore that morning. I also had the feeling there was more to her than what she was showing me.

I wanted her.

I announced my plan to go to the bakery and then back to my place. I think the quick transition and lack of “comfort” fit her style. There was surprise in her eyes as I put my offer to her – “Come with me” – but she was in.

She was cold and didn’t volunteer much on the way – in part as she is this “difficult” girl, and in part as taking her home this fast was a sign I was a “dangerous man.”

More cold independence in the bread store. Strained conversation on the walk to my place and into my building. A few more comments to keep us going as we rode the elevator up to my floor. Inside… I had made sure my apartment would be toasty warm.

I put on some music. She sat on my couch… and busily toyed with her phone.

It was time. I put out my hand and she pretended not to see it. Hey, I said. She looked up, still pretending not to see my hand. Come here. She took it and stood up. And I gave her “that look” and…

“No,” she said, as I moved in to kiss her. She looked at me with disapproval. She would say “no” a lot that morning.

I said, okay. And she was tossing up obstacles. She was a bit agitated. “What do you want?,” she said. I want to get to know you. It’s was true.

She used her phone to translate and showed me: “Friends with benefits?” on the screen. I told her I didn’t like that term.

I tell every girl I date that I like the term “Lover.” I am a seducer, not a “fuckboy.” I want to be a lover to these girls, not a “friend” with “benefits” (that phrase is cynical).

A lover gives a girl three things: Attention, affection, and sex. As her English isn’t that good, I said it slower, and demonstrated each part. And when I got to affection, and I was softly pushing her hair back and stroking her cheek… she melted a little. Her tone had changed.

She turned her face as I got close to her lips. I moved in by her neck… and she took it. And I put my lips on her skin and ran my hands over her body, down to her hips, up under her sweater…

(Notice how the escalation > drinks.)

It was around now when she told me she was on her period. Her eyes bulged a little when she said it. I assumed it was another “hurdle” between me and sex, and maybe a test. I was going to play on as if it was true. But we could make out. I could get her hot. I could show her I was for real, and maybe she’d come back another time.

Maybe she said something about a “condom.” Her English wasn’t good, I wasn’t sure. And the look in her eyes said that “no, I mean, maybe, no, no, well, maybe, yes, but, no, no, no…” kind of thing.

I pulled her to my bed… and she complied.

And I pushed her back and really tried to kiss her, and she said, “no” again, “only for a boyfriend!” Her eyes snapped as she said it. She was a little too serious, and also… pretending.

Pretending. That is a huge clue to what I think about this girl. She isn’t “fake.” She is just more, and different, than what she pretends to be.

She squirmed around. Pinning one arm to the pillows above her, I slide my free hand down to her waist, under her sweater, found her skin. She was a bigger girl than I was expecting (maybe even chubby), very soft.

She was still “pretending” to be tough. She smelled fantastic. I wanted her. I stared a lot. I was serious.

I had her shirt off (no resistance), and her bra, and her very large, D-cup tits spilled across her chest. I sucked on dark nipples. And I grabbed a fistful of hair (to hold her head still) and pushed my face against hers and finally got her tongue in my mouth. (Turns out, “being her boyfriend” wasn’t really required to kiss her, after all.) It was good. And she was getting into it.

As I ran my hand across her belly, she grabbed my wrist and push my hand down under her tights and between her thighs.

She is not as strong as she pretends to be, but she is no “virgin,” she has a bit of aggression to her, and definitely some sexual experience. And even though it was only 11 AM, I now had her very hot. With her pushing my hand into her panties, and the look in her eyes, I slipped a finger into her… and she was sopping wet. And so into it. Kissing me hard now.

Are you really on your period? I had no signs yet. And she looked a little childish, less certain. She wasn’t lying and I assumed this was maybe the last day.

You’re ready, I said. Her eyes burned back at me. She was. I went to the other room, got a towel. I pulled her tights and her panties off in one slow movement.

Again here she said something about a condom. She was stern. So much emphasis on condoms. I never hear this from girls.

This detail is important, as I think this is her showing both some sexual experience, and… that she has had some bad experience where a guy pushed too hard for taking her “raw,” or that she has been made pregnant before, or who knows. Very serious about it.

Yes I did have a condom (of course). And within reach (in the case I keep between my bed and the window). I pulled one out. And made a show of it, so she could see it. And laid it on the bed next to her.

And I slid a finger in her, and she loved it. And then another. And no blood. And I worked her with my hands, and she moaned, and she was softer with me. Warmer. More real. And then, yes, a little bit of blood.

And she took my other hand and put it on her clit. Clit girl: That is a type. That she was so explicit, directing me on our first time in bed (very rare), also taught me something about her.

The seduction was a little harsh, and rushed, and there was very little tenderness. But she was ready, and like a good solider I got naked, and stroked my cock hard, and…

And I reached for that condom. Tore it open, and rolled it on, and…

And she checked to make sure it was on. She reached down, and felt my cock to be sure I was wearing a condom. I have fucked a lot of girls and girls never do that.

But the condom was on, and…

+1 daygame.

The sex was… just okay. Which is unusual for me, actually. I have really fantastic sex these days (it’s the Tantra thing). The sex with Miss Breakfast lacked any depth, and I could literally feel the difference. I had fucked her… but she hadn’t really surrendered. Sex can only be so good when she hasn’t really “opened” to you as a man.

And yet, a conclusion: Yes, you can close a girl, dead sober, first date, on a “breakfast date.” Of course you can.

I like this girl. And I am not here to “check boxes.” But in terms of the pursuit of the fundamental truth of Game: Alcohol and “darkness” have absolutely nothing to do with what is really important between a man and a woman.

Don’t get distracted by “nighttime” or “drinks.” All you need for a sexual date is: You, her, some privacy, and your ability to escalate.

We had had very fast sex. And after: It was quiet and a bit awkward.

Mystery has his claim that “solid Game” means you should not try to fuck her before you’ve had “seven hours together” (to bond). It can be done (much) faster than that, but his point is basically right: Fast-sex will often leave you “naked” and exposed in uncomfortable ways… not always the best for everyone’s self-esteem or if you want to see her again.

I gave her a wild experience, but it left us – post sex – in the same cold space we started in, and without the sexual tension to keep us warm.

I wiped myself down, and pulled my jeans on. She dressed quickly. She looked amazing, as before, but was even less friendly.

Back down the elevator, and almost silently, we moved together toward the café where the morning had begun.

It was only 12:30 now. I told her I wanted to see her again. And I said goodbye.

Some of our messaging:

HER: I wish I could be friends with you
HER: Do you want to be a lover with me?
NASH: I have many friends
NASH: You told me you wanted to be free. I understand it and respect it.
NASH: But…
NASH: If you want to spend some time with me…
NASH: I will talk to you. And touch you. And fuck you.
NASH: Yes. I want to see you again.
HER: If the timing is right

NASH: I can’t tell if you’re dangerous or vulnerable
HER: Neither
HER: I’m just a college student

NASH: Again, I mean sex, but I mean all of it
NASH: Attention, affection, and sex
NASH: When we were alone, I gave you all three. And I always want to give you all three.
HER: I’m sorry, I’ve been busy for a while
HER: I will contact you when I have time again

The New Year season in Japan is for family, and who knows if she is really busy, but I have not seen her since.

On a basic level: This story is a great example of execution and possibility for a man that knows what is required in seduction (masculine penetration, leadership, a place to lay down together) and what is not (drinks, or even a free evening).

On a more personal level: She is a fascinating girl. A fist-full of clues, half-slipping through my fingers… and another fascinating foray into female psychology.

She is a type. Sexy. Young, but not innocent. On our first date together, she gave me all that “I want to be free” and “love is annoying” kind of talk. She is a little icy and hard. Her very-careful handling of me in that moment when I put the condom on shows something serious in her past. She is physically soft, but something about her history has knocked some of the girlish “magic” out of her.

I am intrigued by her, and even writing about her turns me on. I want her. And I want the chance to “show up” for her, so she can feel me being solid and real and more than “friends with benefits.” If she’ll give me the time, I’d like to take this girl deeper than she allowed me to do (so far).

With Miss Breakfast, the end of the year has been quiet. I have shown her lots of “pull.” I have shown not only intent, but an ability to lead and a very clear sense that I know what I want.

But I can only “pull” so hard before I snap the line. And a man can only lead the willing.

I’ve been inside her, but she is still “closed” to me. I like so much of what I have seen, even the rough, calloused quality of her edges. It is always “maybe” with girls, but I hope I see her again.

Viva Daygame.