Sep 04 2016 09/04/2016 09/04/2016 27Comments by Nash

Lust in the Dust || Burning Man Gutter Game

Posted in

I got a tiny bit of action at Burning Man. No big deal, but it was another “barrier” that I’ve stepped through. And it was from skills I’ve learn from daygame. Several of the barriers I’ve come through have been built on daygame skills. Since it was after midnight when I picked her up, I’ll get onboard with Krauser and Tom’s use of “gutter game.” It was something like that.

7 times. 7 times I’ve been to Burning Man, and I’ve never hooked up. Not really. I don’t game at Burning Man. Partly because I don’t want to treat Burning Man like a frat party, and also because my style of parting at Burning Man is different than a night at the bars. I’m high as fuck 1/2 the time I’m there, to be honest, looking to see god and dance with the devil. I always do a bit of both. That’s most of what I’m there for… at least at night. I’ve had some offers, but nothing that appealed to me – wasted chicks making me offers. I have hooked up there before, but from within my social circle. This girl was a proper cold approach, and I know it wouldn’t have happened without the daygame work I’ve done since I was there last.

Before I get into the details, I will say that every October here in this city, we have a post-Burning Man party called Decompression. There are several de-comps around the world, but ours is a big fucking party. I’ve been many times… and I always have a great time. Made out several times there with girls I’ve met stumbling around. But I party like a normal person at Decomp. I’m social. I buy the “Burning Man” vibe, I’m extra friendly, I fuck with people, they’re friendly back, I share my flask with strangers, it’s easy. And I always notice the difference between how I am at that party vs how I am at the actual Burning Man thing itself. I told myself this year I was going to do at least one night like I do Decomp. And… ta-daw… it worked.

I was camping with these great European guys I met there 2 years ago. They are “drinking” burners – very social, very drunk, fun guys. They were out almost every night until sunrise. I watched them grind themselves into the dust over several days — I got there after them and left early, because I can’t take that much abuse. But on this particular Thursday of Burning Man week, I took a night off of being a creepy, back-alley, Satan-worshiping psychonaut, and joined them for some Euro-style drinking and fucking around.

I didn’t last long… I met her right away.

We were at Slut Garden — a big theme camp right on the main drag. Ha. If that sounds like a Vegas strip club… that’s basically what it seemed like to me, that’s the vibe that camp puts off. There are big screens on either side of the deejay, with girls behind them dancing, and light projecting their shadowy silhouettes on the transparencies as they dance. To be honest, that shit is not sexy to me. Neither are strip clubs, for that matter. This camp had almost no appeal to me, but this is where I met her.

We were spending a few minutes there, one of my Euro buddies, in tuxedo underwear with neon, light-up suspenders, loving the house music, so we stayed a bit. I was watching this tall, skinny girl, with big glasses, thinking about approaching her… and then this little tiny girl catches my eye.

I love tiny. I think I associate “little” with “feminine,” but it’s a real turn on. Short girls make me hungry. I once dated a girl that was 4’10” — Tiny Dancer. I couldn’t get enough of that girl and her body. I was all needy and expectant with that one, and never had sex with her, but my short girl fetish lives on.

I am standing around with the Euros when she skips thru the Slut Garden. My daygame muscles tingled. Ummm, she’s short and cute. She’s bounce-y. That’ll be my “story.”

As she passes me, I run over to my bike, grab my flask of Fireball, and chase her down — just, like, daygame. I pop in front of her, “street stop” her, and say, “Hey! Are you 5 feet tall? Wait… you’re like 4’9″ aren’t you?” And she smiles, “4’11” she says. Ummm. She is dead sober when we meet, but I offer her some of that sticky-whiskey, and she accepts. We both drink a bit. It’s on.

I am still thinking I’m going to hang w/ the Euros all night, so I assume this is just a bit of fun. She lives about 2 hours from my city, she’s wearing a “The City” t-shirt, and shows it to me — she’s qualifying herself. I want to get back to my buddies, we have bars to go to, so I start going for a kiss. For fun. Because the little girl is kissable. It’s Burning Man. Let’s party.

I get a little closer and ask if she’s kissable. Long eye contact. She says she’s not ready for that, but her smile is charming and she’s showing lots of interest. She tells me she’s not sure if she wants me to be her first playa kiss, but that smiles says otherwise. I playfully step on her little foot, pinning her to the dust, and I step into her space, my mohawk looming 2 ft over her head. She shows some mock outraged at me stepping on her. She’s resisting, but we’re both loving it.

She wants to show me her camp — again, I think she’s qualifying to me. I think she’s into me and wants to show me her cool stuff. Her camp is ridiculous, fully-professionally run, tight and orderly like a military operation, but very nice, massive full kitchen, mega generators, funded by some wealthy patron… she tells me. I decide to fool around with her, and we tell the Euros I’m going to stay with her for a bit so they’re not waiting around for me.

She asked me how old I am, and I tell her I’m much older than her. She argues with me, because I look much younger than I am. I tell her I’m right, because people always guess my age wrong. They have been doing it all week. I bet her that I’m older, and tell her that if I’m right… well… she knows what I want. We exchange ages… I am, in fact, much older than her. She’s surprised. She still won’t give up her wet mouth.

We spend the next few hours fooling around together. I grab her tiny body, pull her in, get her close, but she won’t agree to the kiss. I tell her I’m watching her, that she’s close to ready, I can see. We joke as I read how turned on she is… going from “70%” to “Oh, my god, you’re so ready, you’re at like 97%.” She loves the dominance. We joke that’s she nervous, but she’s having fun. It’s genuinely hot. She’s milking it. I want to kiss her, but I’m liking this dance as well. She’s making my cock hard, and I think for a minute how much more on/sexual this is versus my date with the Taiwanese girl (whom I like very much). I pin her arms behind her back and get up close, sucking her breath into my lungs. I tell her to surrender, but she won’t. I tell her she needs to give it to me, or it’s not going to happen.

We tour her fancy camp. We hang out on a trampoline, and she pours her nice Woodford Reserve in my mouth. I run my hands up her tiny, perfectly proportioned legs, to her garter belt. She sits on top of me, tells me she can feel my cock. She climbs on my back and I carry her soft 90 lbs down the street. We link up with some crazy, butch Lesbians that are using Burning Man as a “divorce party.” They fuck with people at the porta potties – purposely opening the door on anyone that fails to lock it. They’re laughing hysterically, and my tiny one is loving it. They are teaching my tiny one how to do their porta pottie prank. They are giving me, the straight guy, a bit of the cold shoulder, but they warm up, and one of the butch ones helps me kill the last of Fireball. We hug the lesbians and head back to her camp… to be alone.

I haven’t kissed her yet… I’ve sucked the dust off her ears, I’ve bitten her neck, I’ve grabbed her ass, held her hips, but she won’t open her mouth for me. I told her over and over she has to give it to me… I will pin her down, but I won’t take it from her. I pin her down a lot, but she always turns her head.

Eventually I’m ready to cut it off. I say… “Okay…” and she says, “You’re going to leave, aren’t you? You’re getting tired of this.” I agree.

I know what she said, but I wonder what she was thinking at that moment. I know we were both getting tired. I wonder what else.

I tell her she’s been great, that I had a totally fun night w/ her, but yeah. And… I finally see her surrender. And I step forward. I’ve been telling her all night we need 3 kisses — because it might take at least 1 or 2 to get the rhythm right (sometimes that’s true). She is ready and leans in and… great kiss. Not a big deal, I know, but it was a great kiss. Almost worth the wait.

It’s getting cold. I tell her to take me back to her tent (my camp is blocks away and she doesn’t have a bike). We lay down and make out and trade stories. It was great.

Why didn’t I try to fuck her, Yohami would ask? Well… for lots of reasons, the main one being, Burning Man is disgusting. She turned me on, and this was the kind of situation where — by my own standards — I could fast-sex. The vibe between she/I got me hard right away… which doesn’t happen to me with every girl. But I hadn’t had a shower in 3 days. Who knows what condition her pussy was in?? It’s a filthy place. I know a lot of people have sex at Burning Man… but these are some of the reasons I have avoided that so far.

As I rode back to my camp – cutting across the playa – I watched the sun rise. I was exhausted, and would sleep a few hours and get up and drive home, ready for the comforts of civilization again.

Small victory. I loved it. That was the first time I’ve ever tried to run any kind of game out there. Felt good. I was a little love-drunk the next day. A barrier broken — gaming where I have not before. I’m integrating game into my “hippy” experience. Maybe I will finally learn how to capitalize on the attraction I get on the dancefloor?

Bigger picture… I feel the “curse” of the summer continuing to lift. Fall is going to be better. I’m getting there.

And… I can’t fucking wait for Decomp next month. A mix of Burning Man friendliness and daygame will give me more opportunities there as well.

And I have another date set up w/ the Taiwanese girl. And I’m fucking horny, and that energy feels good too.

It’s gonna be a great season. We shall see.

Viva daygame.