Seriously low on sleep.

Part 1

Part 2

The crew was starting to break up, heading back to the airport, the weekend over.

I'd reserved my own room on purpose, where most of the guys had doubled up to save money. Fuck that. I knew this would be a sex weekend, so logistics demanded I have my own space. Don't let a few hundred bucks cockblock you.

Which meant I could sleep in. Fantastic. I did.

Eventually rolled out, texted the boys. They were eating dinner nearby. I joined, heard the stories of the afterparty I'd "missed", and just hung out in the sun on the lake, refueling and relaxing.

Most of the guys were headed out, but a few had another night, like me. I polled the group what to do. There's a Cabo Wabo in Nevada (unfortunately, looks like it's closing now), and they were hosting a "Poison" style 80's cover band that night.

That's my jam. In.

We wasted the day, enjoying the sun, saying goodbyes, helping lug shit into taxis and shuttles. Final kiss and a bit of tongue from mom of the bride.

Shower and shave and club wear. "into the am" has some funky shit, but you need to have some balls to rock it. I wore their cat eyes. t, that I'd had tailored to fit my shape. (yes, I tailor my t's if they're not already "slim fit"... try it.)

Grabbed some food with my "wingman" for the night...only dude going out, fat and blue. Good guy.

Seriously packed venue. Convinced my wing to hit the packed dancefloor instead of trying to find a seat. Made my way to front and center, seriously good band, stirring up the place. We bounced to the beat, singing into the mike as the lead offered.

Tall black chick moved between us, grooving. We started dancing, not a word exchanged. Wing faded back. We kept dancing, trading sweat and dance moves, enjoying the music. Organic and spontaneous. I'm not into black chicks, I'm an old white Irish guy, but damn it was fun to dance with her.

Noticed a group of girls to my left bopping around. You know how there's "this one girl" that you're evolutionarily/subconsciously/pheromonally attracted to? Yeah. It was her. Dancing in a group of 4 friends. Disengaged with black girl(tried to hook up my wing but she was 6" taller and could smell the beta) and dove into the pack.

Mercilessly shit tested. Apparently all her friends were the mother goose phenotype.

Got close, she turned away, still dancing. FUCK THAT SHIT. I picked the second most hot girl, started dancing and gaming her. Eventually had the whole group dancing around me, the lead singer coming over and pushing the mike at me. Wingman out of sight. I tried.

Bitchy hottie engaged. Liegha. Yeah, pronounced like Star Wars. Princess. We bounced together, touching as we tried to talk over the music. Her sweaty fine hairs behind her ears were mesmerizing. I grabbed her by the hair, pulling her ear towards my face as a pretext to get close.

I suggested we leave the bar, as the band was finishing up and the crowd was thinning, so we could talk. My wing was gone.

We stepped out. I pulled her outside (Cabo is in a basement), and we sat at a table, chatting closely. I ended up with my hand ensconced in her hair, controlling her head. Still sweaty and wet from the club.

Since she'd already left her friends, it was easy to convince her that since I had some nice white wine in my fridge just down the road, she should come and hang.

We sexed.

TRP....

Logistics - want pussy? Have a place to get pussy.

Make the clothes you wear work for you.

Lift. Literally nothing else will make you look and feel better. Core Tenet.

Get to front and center if you want attention.

Don't be afraid to get physical. Touch (kino) is the most important thing.

Isolate and escalate.

Have plausible deniability in your room.