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Guest post: My first bathroom pull

krauserpua
February 20, 2015
Here’s a little victory story from a friend of mine who has been dipping his toe into Game waters. By way of context, he’s also a middle-aged professional man. I offer it here without edits:
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In a decade as a denizen of the manosphere, this is my first-ever published lay report. It came about because I happened to tell Nick about a recent adventure of mine, and, flatteringly, he said âThatâs textbook. Any chance youâd write it up as a guest post?â I decided to rise to the challenge. First of all, Iâm not a playa in any typical sense. And even though I live in a big city, for various reasons beyond the scope of this essay, I do most of my approaching, daygaming and general skirt-chasing when Iâm travelling. Itâs part of the fun of being on the road, which I often am.
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Recently, however, I flipped the script on myself, mostly because a âtoilet pullâ had been on my bucket list for awhile, and I figured home turf might be the best place to attempt it.
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Using a popular dating platform one fine Friday night, I struck up some conversations with women here in town, paying particular attention to those visiting on holiday. One of the women I was messaging back and forth with had just arrived to the city, and was going to be here for a week. Her plan was to see a lot of museums. Iâll describe her as early 30s, European-Latina, and a professional scholar of theology (albeit an atheist). Very independent, cool gal in my book. Mentally we hit it off, and once we did, she made it plain that she was was looking for adventure sex. She wasnât remotely coy, and sent me half-naked pics in our initial online chat.
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A somewhat idealised impression

A somewhat idealised impression

During that chat, she also mentioned a museum she wanted to see the next day. I knew the place, and I asked her if she wanted a companion to join her. She said yes. I suggested we meet at a cafe first for a bite to eat. I wanted the museum to be the second venue, as bouncing works miracles, especially during the daytime. She arrived at lunch right on time, and we had a civilised meal. The conversation was purely platonic and unstructured. We’d already had the sex talk online. No need to overdo it. As the old salesmanâs advice goes, âOnce youâve made the sale, stop selling.â As the host, I paid the bill. Then we strolled over to the museum.
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She knew a lot about the stuff on display, and she enjoyed showing off her knowledge. I found it a turn-on, as her enthusiasm for these esoteric objects amplified her postgraduate expertise about their historic meaning. Really, I wish I had a recording of her fairly skipping âround this musty collection, cooing about the artefacts. âTwas a lovely sight. Thenâ¦escalation.
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About 20 minutes in, I took her hand. Ten minutes after that, I pulled her into a dark corner and we made out. She was so lustily responsive that my mental wheels immediately began turning. From previous visits, I knew that downstairs there was a hallway of individual toilet stalls, configured perfectly for a bathroom pull. I led her down the stairs and we checked out some galleries on that level. Meanwhile, I kept an eye on the row of WCs. When the coast was clear, I grabbed her arm and made a move to drag her into one of the men’s stalls with me. But my move was too sudden, and her automatic response was to pull back. Luckily, I could sense she was only flustered by my advance, not appalled by it, so I wasnât overly worried. She scurried into a female stall, and I went by myself into a male one.
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I gathered my thoughts.
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Gathering thoughts, yesterday

Gathering thoughts, yesterday

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I came out of my stall and stood outside the one I’d watched her go into a minute earlier. The museum was crowded with people, but by brilliant good fortune, at the exact moment she came out, there was nobody around to see us. Carpe diem. It was now or never. No hesitation. I pushed her back into the stall she was trying to exit, and went in with her, locking the door behind us. If she hadn’t known what was up before, she knew now. At this point, a wave of exhilaration and calm settled in. I could tell she was into it, and that we both felt safe now, ensconced. No one had seen us enter. No one would bug us.
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There was no resistance as I tugged at her shirt and jeans. She was pinned to the wall by my body, and I put her hand on my crotch. We kissed some more. She undid my belt, and slid down to her knees. Shortly, I pulled out a condom, making sure she saw as I tore it open: I did that so that without breaking the trance or impeding the flow, I could double-check we were on the same page; we were. She emitted a gasp of surrender as I bent her over the sink.
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The mirrors on all sides were a nice touch.
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(Fade to black / statistical interlude: meet-to-lay time, 90 minutes; all told, Iâd put in less than three hours, half of it whilst lying on my sofa the night before, all of it enjoyable.)
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After finishing, we fell into a giddy, co-conspiratorial mode as we calculated how to get out of there alive. I told her to leave the stall first and that I’d lock the door again behind her, in case someone was waiting for that particular stall. I instructed her to knock when the hallway was empty as my signal to come out. More complicated than it needed to be, really, but I wasn’t thinking straight. Anyway, she did all that, and we strode up the stairs, waltzed nonchalantly through the foyer, and ambled back out into the streets.
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We walked at a normal pace. Neither of us made any mention about what’d happened â I think we didnât know what to say â so we defaulted to the congenial vibe weâd established from the outset and just carried on with our conversation about art history. Meanwhile our pulse rates and breathing patterns gradually returned to normal. A quarter of an hour later, I kissed her goodbye so she could go off to meet a friend. (I did see her again a few days later, somewhere more private.)
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Something doesn't quite add up

Something doesn’t quite add up

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Lessons
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1) It feels extraordinary to behave like the primates we are. Iâd never before had a sexual experience that was so non-verbal. Afterward it made me recollect a vintage seduction tape where the guru asks the men in the audience to imagine themselves as cavemen, out in the forest, who happen upon a naked woman bathing in a waterfall. “Without the power of speech,” he asks, “could you seduce the woman? Would you know the motions to go through?” Well, I now firmly suspect that buried deep within us is precisely this innate knowledge. For me, the bathroom pull experience helped revive it. It sparked some dormant circuits and reconnected me with my animal essence in a way I found deeply satisfying and worthwhile.
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2) The bathroom pull is one of those phenomena which seemed nearly mythical and impossible beforehand, and now, after the fact, seems simple and natural. Also, like downhill skiing, the whole thing feels a bit different than it looks. Donât get me wrong, itâs extremely fun, but the experience had a different tone than I imagined. It was so visceral, so completely bodily. My intellect was absent; thoughts all but ceased. As someone who tends to be âin his head,â this made for a welcome change.
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3) The woman has to be significantly complicit, and either consciously up for it or fully under your spell. After all, you might be able to âOops, how’d we end up on my bed!?” But you can’t really âOops, how’d we end up in the handicapped restroom!?” If you’re dealing with a woman who owns her sexuality, her forebrain wonât interfere with her hindbrain and sailing will tend to be smooth, as it was for me. But if she’s hesitant or âsplit brained,” you might need more artfulness in the segues. Sure, I can see that dragging a woman off to the bathroom would be a turn on for her and thereby might increase the likelihood of sex in some instances. But I also see that the bathroom pull is probably best employed in pre-heated moments of passion. Which relates to my next point.
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4) âOnly place bets you know you’ll win.â This was actually told to me by a dog trainer. He meant: during training, donât ask a dog to do something unless youâre quite sure the dog will do it; then you ask for a little more each subsequent time, rewarding compliance with a treat. This is broadly analogous to calibrated escalation with women, and looking back on it, I realise I did it here by accident: I did not “make the bet” of isolating my date in the toilet stall until I knew she’d comply with my leadership. (Thatâs not to say she definitely was going to have sex with me in there, only that I was certain she wouldnât freak out and make a scene. The worst that would happen in there is sheâd giggle and blush, and give me massive tingle-credits which I would cash in later in her hotel room. Therefore, pulling her into the stall was a bet I knew Iâd win, one way or another.)
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5) Furtive, primal sex appears to be massively bonding for the female of the species. Must be a dominance thing, right? For a woman, I expect the bathroom pull is within the realm of the archetypal âtaken by a strangerâ fantasy, so it’s an intense experience she may not have had before you came along. In a real sense, you’ve just done her a huge favour by shagging her in the loos. And this memorable, shared adventure has quite possibly given her a rush of ecstatic and seldom-felt emotions, which she’ll anchor to you. (Evidence? Many weeks on, this woman still sends me dirty photos of herself unsolicited and sometimes refers to âthat time in the museum.”)
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So that’s my tale. Hope it was instructive. Obviously, filter it through your own identity and experience, and live your life your way. Happy hunting.

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Post Information
Title Guest post: My first bathroom pull
Author krauserpua
Date February 20, 2015 2:33 PM UTC (9 years ago)
Blog Krauser PUA
Archive Link https://theredarchive.com/blog/Krauser-PUA/guest-post-my-first-bathroompull.27414
https://theredarchive.com/blog/27414
Original Link https://krauserpua.com/2015/02/20/guest-post-my-first-bathroom-pull/
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