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| Bunny killer & the eternal morning https://pick-up-artist-forum.com/viewtopic.php?f=22&t=66553 |
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| Author: | _PLAY_ [ Fri Apr 30, 2010 1:33 pm ] |
| Post subject: | Bunny killer & the eternal morning |
Ryan’s Bar at 6:30pm on a Friday is no place for the faint of hearted. The small venue simply isn’t equipped to accommodate these hundreds of finance professionals and sexy aspiring executive assistants. We’re all thirsting for strong drink and the chance to shake the stressful corporate week that was. This George street congregation is ground zero for the major banks, fund managers and broking houses that personify the Sydney SPAM. The environment is target rich, but that’s not why I was there. I’d promised my colleagues a quick beer, but I had to get home and meet the Bunny Killer. I was criticized by my peers for organizing what was bitterly implied as “the Friday night date mistake”. You’ve got to understand, these animals I work with are the cream of a young, wealthy and audacious male breed. There was talk of pickup, partying all night and Ivy VIP passes. Goddamn! it was early days and they were right. I was smack bang in the middle of the ideal mPUA environment. A lot of high quality women, platinum AMEX cards and champagne. I began to study their habits. There was evidence of women seeking out the six figure income earning meal ticket and even more of men falling over themselves to prove they had it. Despite a mild undertone of pretentiousness I mostly felt good vibes, happy people, a good time. The Bunny Killer http://www.flickr.com/photos/44780920@N03/4565503984/ On the Pyrmont bridge I spotted her leaning back against a wall, one heel kicked behind her, cigarette in one hand, i-phone in the other. She wore a little black dress, black designer boots and matching black handbag. The bunny killer had a cool and nonchalant way about her. With a flash of hot pink lip stick she shot me a welcoming smile. I hadn’t noticed it before but now in contrast to this jet black ensemble her milky white complexion made her the resemblance of a gothic Dita Von Teese. I took her pale hand and lead her up the hill to my apartment. The party had already begun by the time we arrived. The bachelor pad was undergoing change, the couple from Bristol were moving out tomorrow, tonight was their salute to Sydney and the celebrations were well underway. I gave bunny killer the tour, introduced her around then isolated to my private balcony for ice cold chardonnay and preliminary flirtation. The David DeAngelo strategy to whisk her out of the apartment quickly wasn’t my intention, but that’s the way this night started. A casual walk around Darling Harbour hand in hand with the bunny killer and the Bristol crew in drunken convoy. We’re all heading for cocktails and shit faced bowling antics. It wouldn’t be long now until alcohol and competitive nature began to take hold. The vibe between us was playful and fun, that carried through a 40 minute wait for a lane, a cute game of pool and a few popped cherries. When the bunny killer threw my glass of beer halfway across the room it had apparently been a first. Although it wouldn’t be the last assassination of glassware that night, this time was a sacred first for her. After a photo op we shared a cigarette on the end of one of the many abandoned wharfs and I pressed for background. I then told her how genuinely awesome I find her. Her ambition, the courage in moving to a new city, in starting on her professional journey and in meeting an articulate & handsome young man no less. When it was time to register names for the couples bowling showdown there was nothing more fitting than play and bunny k. We were 3 or 4 cocktails deep, no vegas tournement winning duo but we held our own. There was appropriate intervals of neg and cute harassment as she bowled “OMG your such a girl” BK “im trying (sad face) play “It’s not good enough, you’re here on assignment, impress me goddamn it!” ha! What started as a serious game quickly deteriorated into masculine displays of ball throwing and poor female execution that inevitably ended up in the gutter run. The Bristol crew hit a wall and bailed, leaving me and bunny k with a lane of our own. There were no more rules, we did what we wanted and had no respect for the basic principles of couples bowling. Two cannon balls at a time, heels on the hardwood and drinks on the players pitch. What a fun girl I thought… We skipped, danced and played our way out of the establishment, around the board walk and across the fluorescent Pyrmont bridge. Bunny was apprehensive about coming back to the apartment at first. But a kiss underneath the midway watchtower solved that. Perhaps we both craved justification, connection and the taste of cherry lip gloss… god knows I did. She needed comfort, a strong alpha male to fall asleep in the arms of, without any fear of presumed awkward intimacy. I’ve come to learn that it’s not all about fucking and to think so is a denial of the pursuit and more over developing a deep and real connection. ]In the morning I escorted her across the Pyrmont bridge and fittingly pressed my lips to hers in farewell, underneath the midway watchtower. What had started as pickup had quickly blossomed into trust and mutual attraction. It was mere hours until she was back in my arms, smoking pot in weed spots, watching DVD’s and making out for what seemed like an eternal morning but was in fact just 48 hours of overcast skies. Junk food, wine and passionate spikes of pure intimacy. …. Days later I woke up in her apartment in Kings Cross with serviced lips, love bites and a rock hard cock smiling. Where was my sex bunny baby?. The blanks need not be filled, this note says it all…. http://www.flickr.com/photos/4478092...n/photostream/ |
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| Author: | Mrmonk [ Fri Apr 30, 2010 1:55 pm ] |
| Post subject: | |
your links are down but good FR dude good read had a number 23 feel about it your a good writer kept my attention down |
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