Notes on Sexual Escalation, Lay Report, Miss Aloha +1

Even though she is properly Japanese, I am going to call her Aloha. I give her that name because this morning, after a long night in bed, she was naked, leaning over a table by the window, petting one of my cats as it soaked in the early morning sun… and bent over like that, with her bare feet, soft calves, round thighs on short legs that culminated in a full, juicy ass – she reminded me (in a low-center-of-gravity kind of way) of a Hawaiian dancer. That was the feeling I got. So to all the men of Game out there, I say, Aloha.

A body like this ^.

This post is about the process of daygame – about how reliable and ideal it can be for men that want to date more.

And also: With this girl, I felt my Game step up in terms of my abilities with women sexually. We have lots of notes about what to say on the approach, how to text, etc, but less so about exactly how to get her to “surrender.” How to “give her a good experience.” For anyone that is interested, I will be specific about what I am doing in those final moments before I take a girl.

To the first point: This is a lay report, and as such, it is reaffirmation of the daygame model. Of its unending utility as a way to meet girls at any given time, via a bit of charm and effort.

I have been dating Miss Words and have been pretty satisfied with the quality and quantity of sex and feminine energy in my life. So it was specifically to reconnect with the skills of being a seducer that motivated me on this latest round of daygame and approaching girls.

I wanted to practice my craft.

In March, I made a commitment to talk to 100 girls. I hit the streets (over and over) and by Mar29 I had talked 104 girls and the commitment was met (victory). I collected numbers, I went on some dates (not many, actually), and I got laid (a different kind of victory).

This post serves to document what was an almost ritualistic run of Game. I enjoyed the time with the girls on the street (and even the walking), but my commitment was a tribute to the process:

Approach > Take numbers > Message the girls > Date > Take her someplace private > Escalate > Sex > Experience > Relationships.

Those are the basic sexual milestones of a man that is successful at cold approach and wrangling women. This post serves as yet another demonstration of all that. For the community. And for me, as a 48 year old man. I am getting older, but the process is timeless (and the cute girls on the street remain the same age).

So I sacrificed some of my (increasingly rare and valuable) time to the Daygame Gods. I showed up. I put in the work and I met my commitment. I’ve shown discipline (which is masculine) and I am proud of that. But I am also a romantic. And while this post is a tribute to the London Daygame Model, I am also very into the qualitative parts of Game. The softness, the sensuality, the sex – all those “qualities” that make the discipline worth it.

This is where we talk about the girl – Miss Aloha:

#82. Miss Aloha. Maybe 30? Short, curvy, very feminine girl. I am after some big tits right now. She loved it. Decent English. Works for an airline. Comes here often to shop. LINE APP close.
— From my notes, Mar25

That was her. She is curvy, wonderfully so. She does not, in fact have “big tits,” but she was charming and fun and feminine from the moment I stepped in and said, “Do you… speak English?” (“少し,” she said.) We flirted. I took her number, and pinged her as I walked away from the set.

In response to my ping she said:

ALOHA: Thank you for talking to me

She is always feminine, and cute, and “bouncy.”

In our first exchanges via text, I remember being turned on. Sexually awake.

While I was definitely trying to get laid, the whole experience of the “100 Girls in March” was about daygame “waking me up” (again). That is an excellent reason to take on a challenge like I did. I felt (and I currently still do, as I write this) more awake, because of being so active in Game.

Game will peel back your eyes. It is a requirement. You can’t be successful in Game when you’re “half asleep.” All of it, all those approaches, standing close with strange women, in the glory and in the defeat of it all – IT WAKES YOU THE FUCK UP.

One night I messaged her saying I had just finished working out and sent her a picture of a gorilla holding some barbells.

Her response:

ALOHA: I need to train for summer
ALOHA: Like this : ) : )
NASH: Some exercise is good…
NASH: But I can have BIG MUSCLES
NASH: And you can stay SOFT
NASH: That is a good combination
NASH: One of the best things about girls is that they are soft
ALOHA: Thank you : )
ALOHA: Then I stay soft : ) : )

I am doing some work in that exchange to set up the story of me as the “strong man” and her as the “soft girl.” She took it well, and the exchange above is a solid encapsulation of the vibe between her and me, as well as her encouraging, buoyant, feminine style, and how she cooperates with the seduction.

I asked her out. She accepted.

We met at the station at 6:30. She wore a skirt (she always wears a skirt). I took her to dinner. We had some time to connect as we ate, and then, post dinner, and it was still pretty early – I planned it that way.

As we were putting on our coats to leave I said:

NASH: I am going to go back to my place

She looked a little confused.

NASH: Do you want to come back with me and talk some more?

I gave her solid eye contact, finished the invite, and let it hang like that, left her in the tension. She had to voice a choice, but it wasn’t long. She was a quick “yes,” and her eyes showed some enthusiasm.

Great, I said. I paid the bill. We walked outside.

I am still amazed at how easily these girls will come back to my place. I am amazed at how vulnerable that decision makes a woman and yet how consistently and easily they make it with me each time. I am amazed every time a woman walks into my place. Every time.

A few minutes later we were delivered to my door. I walked slowly. No rush. Upstairs. I fed my little furry killers. She was very into the cats. I put on some music. I was not in a hurry and yet: it was time to make my move.

She was sitting on the floor when I reached out with my hand. She took it. I pulled her up and I stepped in.

There was something about me last night that was operating on another level. I am not bragging; I’m just feeling the benefits from all these many days of Game. All the time with Miss Happy and Miss Words and all the girls before them. I know how this should play out now.

I stepped in to kiss her, and she got it, and she tensed up. She pulled her chin away from me (a “false no”). She was into it, she was happy to be in a dangerous position with me… but this is part of the dance.

I got so close to her and… stopped. I didn’t cross that last inch between us. I just got in close, and I let her feel me as I was calm in that tension.

Here is something specific:

As I got close, her body stiffened and she “stopped breathing.” It’s common. It is in the way a girl’s hands will go “stiff like a corpse” when she is put into the sexual pressure of the moment with a man she doesn’t know well. It’s normal, but it’s not a sign to “plow” along. It’s not “resistance.” It is a sign to pay attention. It is a sign that it’s time to “open her” up.

Can you breathe, I asked? And I demonstrated what I wanted with a big breath.

When you notice if a girl is breathing comfortably, you’re showing that you have good awareness of how she is feeling (solid Game). Helping her get her breath moving is good masculine leadership. It’s not that hard to do (if you can get out of your own head).

I sucked at her ears. Her rapid little in-breaths told me that she was getting turned on, but she still wasn’t really “flowing.” I made her breathe with me again. I made her look at me. I said, “we are together” (いしょに). I waited until I was sure she felt “together.”

You get “last minute resistance” (LMR) when a girl can tell you have no idea what she needs. When you don’t know where she is “at” she won’t feel as safe. Part of what real sexual expertise is, is showing a girl that you know where she is as you lead her through the moment. You “measure” where she is at, and you show her that you “get it” when you allow her the time she needs to catch up to you. This is what creates trust. This is how “she knows she can go anywhere with you.”

The date wasn’t sexual for me at this point. I was leading her like a teacher. For me (with most girls) in “fast seduction,” that is how sex begins. Leading her until we’re mutually passionate and “wide open” for each other. It’s my job to get us there.

We finally kissed. We made out. And her eyes softened. It was her eyes that made me know we were “on.”

She tried to pull me down onto my couch, but I pulled her up to her feet and over to my bed. I almost pushed her down – but in a “pretend” kind of way. The “force” was symbolic, so she had to choose to go with it. And she got the joke, and she laughed, and she went with it, and she flopped onto my bed, her long black hair bouncing across the sheets.

I escalated. And I kept up this “sexual teacher” role. She would “lock up” and I would remind her to breathe. Each time I’d slow down was chance to stare into her eyes.

I would get her calm, and breathing, and happy, and comfortable. Then I’d pin her arms down. Give her more “fake force” – and she would laugh. Then give her real force and a hard kiss. Then show her the brakes again. Each time I could verify that she was in a good place, by watching her breathing, how relaxed she was. That is how I knew to step it up some more.

Her breath is an incredibly accurate signal of where she is at. The way you breath, as well, says something.

As I made a “big move” up her skirt (before she could really react), I gave her the “No, no, no – OMG!” look (as if I was her). I did it first, before she had a chance to – showing her (again) that I knew where she was at. I backed off. She’d laugh again.

It is about the dominance. But she knows it is her choice to surrender because you back off and give her these little “windows to escape”, over and over. You confidently dare her to take them. And she doesn’t take them. And it’s on. That is how it goes.

That is how you show her you’re an expert. That you are smooth. That is how she knows it’s safe to “let go” and surrender.

At some point I had moved down to her feet, sitting there, staring at her, stroking her bare legs. I reached up between her thighs and then slowly slid my hands back down to her ankles. It was sexual now, very sexually, but slow, and still very under control.

And her eyes just “flipped.” They said, “Ummmm.” That is what her eyes said. They had that achy pre-sex “need” to them. And I said, You’re ready. I said it out loud. Sliding my hand completely up her dress, over her panties, I’d run my palm across her stomach. She’d flinch, and squirm, and groan, and I’d give her the “OMG” look, and she’d smile. I’d say, You’re so ready. My hands, over her hip, sweeping under her to get a handful of her amazing ass, and then down to her ankle again. You’re ready, I said. Your body it ready for sex. And she stared at me with soft eyes. Her breath was smooth and even now.

Her eyes had collapsed into sexual need and she was 100% “in.” I have never felt so “pro.” I took such good care of her – and she could feel that care. She was ready for anything I wanted to do next.

I took off her clothes (very nice, black, lace panties and a matching bra) and she was naked. And I licked her tiny clit. Her body is completely hairless. Very little hair to begin with, but whatever might have been there was waxed away to make her smooth as polished granite, but soft as freshly baked bread.

And I sucked on her nipples and on the hard bones in the middle of otherwise soft hips. And she was still jumping at each touch. And I reached for one the world’s best condoms and…

+1 Japan.

She has a tiny mouth. I noticed at dinner and knew she couldn’t be an ideal kissing partner with a mouth that small, but she quickly learned to give me the kind of big, wet, wild kissing I want. Giving me her whole tongue (all of it), as much as I wanted (and I want the whole thing). And in the way that her mouth is little, so, too, was her pussy. A tiny, demure pussy. I don’t have a huge cock, but I still had to work it in slowly, even after she was soaking wet from having my mouth on her.

Even inside, she only gave up her body in little stages, keeping me partly “out” for the first 10 minutes maybe. She is no virgin, certainly, but it remined me of when I actually got “all the way in” with the Chinese virgin I had fucked in this same city almost two year previously.

All the way in was… glorious. She felt fantastic.

I fucked her slow (mostly), occasionally giving her a round of “slamming” deeper into her. And I looked into her eyes… and I didn’t come. I let the pleasure roll on, pausing each time I might crash over the peak. This is the tantric sex I have been doing for about a year. I am not telling you what to do. I am just telling you what I have been doing.

I fucked her for maybe another 30 or 40 minutes. And pulled out. It was 11 PM. I told her she could go right now and catch the last train back home… or stay. I repeated the offer. She told me she wanted to stay.

First date. Back to my place. A few hours shy of Mystery’s “Seven Hour Rule:” We had sex within four hours of total time spent together. And she wanted to stay over.

Her body was still so tense and full of sexual tension I knew she wasn’t “done.” I worked two fingers into her tight little box and pushed her into groans of pleasure, working toward her G spot, testing to see if she would squirt (she did not). When we had burned off some more of her sexual energy, I pulled her into sleep.

We slept very close all night.

I woke up and fucked her again, two more times in the darkness of our first night in bed together. And then, again, in the morning. Because I never came, I was hard instantly, and constantly, whenever I wanted to be. I would rub against her very full, amazing ass, get turned on… she was sopping wet, each time, like the underside of a pier in a storm. And I’d fuck her again and again. I was inside her for at least two hours (or closer to three) over those four sessions.

The sex wasn’t super deep or emotional, but I pushed us in that direction. I made her look at me. And it was good.

In the morning I fed her fruit. We showered. I packed my bag. I used the lint roller to get the cat hair off her pretty dress. We took the elevator down and walked toward the café where I am now, by the station. There, in public, I didn’t hug her, or kiss her, but I took her hand… and held it… told her I had a great time… I said we should message… and her fingers slipped out of mine and I walked inside.

On the way down to the street in the elevator, I asked how she felt. She said “happy.” All the Japanese girls say that (which tells me almost nothing). I said, How about your body? Are you okay? “We had a lot of sex.” She smiled and said, “yes, good,” with a look that convinced me she did know what I meant and she was indeed just fine.

So much sex with that girl last night. Amazing.

Great experience. And it all started when a man talked to a girl on the street. Viva daygame.