Bartender Game +1: ONS With The Aussie Interloper

This is one of those rare cases in which one has to make literally zero effort apart from being a little charming and sociable while pouring some drinks to a group of tourists that randomly ended up in one’s workplace to chill. It’s one of those unique instances where cold approach is not necessary because the girl is visiting your town on a short vacation, she’s looking for her adventure sex story out of sight from her social circle, fancies you and has decided you are r-selected enough to let herself be rutted fast and hard.

It all started on a quiet and boring evening at work. It was a very hot January day, and the bar was almost empty. It was happy hour time, and my buddy Charly and I were lazily getting the bar ready to start our shift. Then, a young Australian couple came into the bar and took their seats at the bar. They were chatting animatedly, but by the way they talked to each other it was apparent they weren’t much acquainted. I served them and left them to it. An hour or so later, another couple – also Australians – joined them at the bar but they just ordered still water and didn’t stay long. The four of them took off together, in fact. But the girl that arrived later gave me the eye so blatantly before leaving that Charly called me a lucky bastard, since he fancied her. But this guy is a cool dude. He lives by wing rules, even if he doesn’t approach proactively. He’s more of a status game kind of guy, and very charismatic.

Anyway, they all left and that was that… or so I thought. Lo and behold, the four of them came back to the bar the day after, in the company of two more couples. So four guys and four girls in total. All wanting different cocktails, and all willing to have their refill. All in all, a very busy evening at work. I remembered the girl had thrown a lewd, fleeting glance my way the day before, but I literally had no time to talk to her as we were busy as fuck behind the bar. I only addressed the whole group, suggesting they should start ordering even if some of them were yet undecided, since I was going to take my sweet time preparing the drinks. Eventually, they all finished their second round and I was inwardly cursing my luck, since the girl was visibly eyeing me from time to time but I had no chance of making something happen. They asked for the bill, payed and when I collected the leather tap with the tip after they had left, I saw a note scribbled on the “forgotten” receipt. It was a girl’s name followed by a hand-written kiss emoticon. Needless to say, I added her to FB messenger that same night. This, my friend, is one of those rare cases in which I will attach a screen capture of the conversation that ensued, since she’s a native speaker of English. I communicate with most of my leads in Spanish, so I have to go through the task of translating chats or re-writing them in English as best as my memory allows when I have deleted that particular conversation – and I delete conversations all the time.

 

 

So next day, she writes to confirm the rendezvous:

 

 

“Whoa! That was fast”, I thought. And I felt tempted to tell her to come straight to my place. “But think about it for a minute…”, my mind asserted to my dick. “She has barely exchanged a few words with us, and even if she’s hornier than us, she’s still a girl.”, it said like Sherlock Holmes would casually go about the explanation of some intricate case to a confused Watson. “And what is that which all women need before sex and after attraction?”, it demanded rhetorically. “That’s right, my big headed and impulsive friend… good old comfort!”. “But I have no time for that”, replied my dick in despair… “I need to get wet now!”, it shrieked. “There, there… Look here now. This is what we’ll do: We’ll feign shock to subtly flip the script and make her chase us a bit. Then, we’re going to suggest we meet for a drink first. That way, we’ll make sure: a) She’s not a dangerous nutcase, b) she gets the minimal necessary amount of comfort first, c) we get a little alcohol in our system, so as not to cum too quicly and spoil the fun for the lady. Anywhere near our hotel room will do. She’s coming straight to fuck.” With that, both brain and dick went on to sketch the plan:

 

 

When I finished my shift, I contacted her to establish logistics:

 

 

Yipes! Seems the lady is compliant, but she’s aiming at play some kind of mind game by stating that she won’t be available for a few hours…

 

 

 

… Or maybe not. Now it was only a matter of negotiating time and place to meet. Normally, I’m against that. I simply tell them what to do, and they accept or fuck off, but this was a girl who was clearly DTF. Nonetheless, she had to make an excuse to leave her group and meet a complete stranger in a dangerous city to exchange fluids on short notice. That, in my dictionary is a brave girl and one that seemed not up to waste my time (in fact she was proving to be more time efficient than myself), so surely I can bend a few rules.

 

 

As you can see, I was giving her instructions in a somewhat chaotic manner, mostly due to her lack of geographical awareness. See when she asks about my adress that’s not asking for comfort… That’s crying for comfort. Always bear in mind: when a girl asks you for comfort, you give it to her… no matter what.

 

 

 

It’s so important that I’ll repeat it: always go out of your way to placate a girl if you sense she’s asking for comfort. Here, you can see she asked for my address for the second time.

We met, and she was looking good, with a blue summer dress and sandals. I did not remember she was so tall.

 

Very much alike

I took her to a seedy bar, the only one open that I knew of – in some parts of Baires it’s near to impossible to find an open bar after midnight. I guess I was lucky to live in an area that had a few, especially when I lived in a tiny, sad hotel room with shared toilets. On our way to the bar, I told her she “had to be a brave girl now” and follow me through some dark alleys to get there. She took my arm and we chatted jovially until we arrived. We sat at a booth in the entrance, away from loud music and drunk customers. We ordered beers – she was a bit tipsy already – and things got sexual fast. I teased her and escalated her, putting my hands on her hips and telling her off for having too much fun, to which she responded with a look of mock indignation immeditely followed by the I-Want-You-To-Take-Me-Now look.

Her: You have no idea! I train so hard back home. I used to have a six-pack, you know?

Me: Six-pack of beer, is it?

Her: You little shit! [She was just kidding, folks]

Me: Ok. Drink up. Let’s get out of here, pronto.

We walked the six or seven blocks back to my hotel, went in and straight to my room. There was no LMR whatsoever and I fucked her good and hard for a good hour. She loved the sordid aspect of my room together with my pulling her hair and spanking her butt. Finally, I came a nice load on her tummy, she spooned some with her fingers and smelled it. She cleaned herself with a towel, got dressed and said: “That was nice. Gotta go back now. Bye!” She closed the door behind her and went back out to the night, while I went to sleep contented.