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I always thought that telling your stories is a good thing - not just for you, but also for those who might read them and either pleasure themselves or learn a thing or two. But it's mostly a good thing for you, i.e., myself.

So I had gone out to this club, just a few days ago – possibly even Friday, I’m not entirely sure. As usual, I had a few drinks with my buddies so that we don’t waste our coins on overpriced club booze. We usually end up at Tequila Jacks or London Tap, but this time was probably the former.

I felt like dancing, so I found my way on a speaker and proceeded to dance with my eyes closed. I try to find spots where I can do that without hurting people around me. At one point (actually, more than one), I found myself bumping into someone – I was being surrounded by groups of girls. Polite, I’d try to strike up a conversation. Then another girl from the group would pull the girl I’d be talking to aside and claim she’s married. This happened more than once – i.e., with more than one group and to my buddies as well, which led me to believe that it’s some kind of strategy among groups of girls.

Anyway, I don’t deal well with rejection so I resign myself to just dance. Then the hunger set in and went on the prowl through the club. I had met a girl from Newfoundland, a bit on the chubby side, and spoke to her while getting drunk in the vorspiel. Now she started dancing with me while petting me heavily. She seemed quite

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Why am I telling you this story? Because just before we went to her place she insisted I buy her a beer. I really didn’t have to – she had already given strong signals that she wanted me – but I did anyway. It’s precisely what pg says below: she wanted to fill her.. something.

Sources / More info: pg

Cracanel, seduction, pickup, fat (Tags)