Bad Chick Episode 01: Meeting, Greeting, Cum Pants



“This is the life we chose the life we lead and there is only one guarantee, none of us will see heaven”



Brother what did we give up for this life for this knowledge? When we started so young and thought forever was so far away. That we could get away with it all and come out clean in the end as if somehow there was an exit strategy to all this. We came so far and there is no turning back. There are no happy endings, we know too much and the secrets of the women we’ve touched will stay with us till the end. We write now as a testament so other men can see what can become if they follow our path.


You find her when you’ve reached rocked bottom. When you’ve pushed yourself so far to the depths of depravity and crossed lines and somehow managed to come back (Like that weekend). When you fear so much of yourself because you know your hunger is bottomless and never filing. It was September 11th and I went with a great female friend to go see Gaslight Anthem at the 9:30 club. Against Me was the opening band and the energy of that night was freeing and amazing. I was wearing camo pants and one of my favorite grey Gaslight Anthem T shirts. The concert ended early and we decided to go grab more drinks on the Rooftop of Lost Society. My friend waited on the patio getting drinks and I decided to go to the bathroom. As I came out and walked back She walked towards me like a vision, like a rare thing I’d never seen before. Blue and grey cat eyes that pierced through me, thin red lips, brunette long dreadlocks, African jewelry, a walking contradiction. I was drunk, I dropped my cool, my mouth went agape. I stared right at her and couldn’t take my eyes off of her, I couldn’t look away or pretend I wasn’t looking. She approached and I was transfixed. As we got closer and she noticed I was staring at her she snapped out at me with the attitude and vinegar,




“What are you starring at?”

I was buzzing, I couldn’t front, too late for games, might as well play it straight up.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen”

The words fell out of my mouth like a whispered prayer. It started in her neck and went up to her cheeks, she was blushing and then it spread to her whole face. I told her to let me buy her a beer and find out all about her, I was intrigued. The whole conversation was a blur, she was some super government lawyer that did work with the UN. She’d been to Nigeria recently, close to where I was born. She runs a charity that has something to do with kids. Her name is Delilah, I got her phone number. We parted ways, I blacked out, it was a Thursday. That Friday we exchanged txts and agreed to sushi on Saturday. There was something warm about the txt conversation, she wasn’t trying to play it cool or delay replies on purpose.

Saturday came and after she was done with work we met at my sushi spot. I showed up in my blue suit and white button up shirt with a white pocket square. She wore a long black maxi dress and a jean jacket but still had an effortless cool vibe about her. We ate, we drank, and we talked. Her mother is Native American, a lost tribe in Nevada her father is from Germany. She’s 29, she dated Nigerians, both of her longest relationships were with them. They had a way of finding her. Her job was actually interesting. She went to school in California. Because of her look still did modeling jobs on the side in New York if the job was right. Had the hookups to the clubs out there, spent time in Vegas and Mexico. Once lived in Spain for a summer with a guy who was professional water skier. She lived in Europe for a few years. Well-travelled and all that. Lifted free weights, did boxing, was into yoga. There’s total package and she was pretty much it.

After sushi we went to a sports lounge and watched the Floyd Mayweather fight. A rematch that she was very much into seeing. She was able to speak intelligently about the nuance of boxing, on Mayweathers skill and how he fought. We took turns making bets on who won the round and the looser bought shots. Mayweather won hands down. We jumped spots again across the street to my favorite Russian bar Mari Vanna. I ran owners son game. The Bartenders showed me love, free infused vodka shots, plenty of drinks. We stumble out and she calls us an uber back to her place.

In the backseat of this massive murdered out SUV we pounce on each other. I wonder if the driver can tell if it’s a first date. Do the first date couples kiss with such carnal hunger for each other that regular couples don’t have? We are kissing like we’ve known each other for a lifetime. We leave the car and stumble up the stairs to a row house she shares with two other girls. She tells me I can crash on the couch. I go to lay down on my back and pull her on top of me. The making out continues, grows hotter, with more passion. I flip her over and her long dress hikes up just so as she wraps her legs around me. I barely have time to pull myself through the zipper and put on the condom, pull her panties to the side and enter. We’re fucking like drunk college kids. She remembers that her roommates are home and we make our way upstairs stumbling through the dark. I get her naked, my suit goes in a pile on the floor. We fuck in every imaginable position through the night. We take turns stopping and tasting each other, I bend her over and her small waste leads to a phat ass like I’ve never seen before. I have to taste all of her. I make her cum in my mouth and go back to fucking her. Every position everything my mind can think of we do until we pass out. In the morning we do it again. After we’re done I got to get dress and I have all of my belongings except my phone, it’s in the uber. We call it and luckily the diver picks up, he’s willing to meet us and give it back.










We decide to grab brunch on U Street and my phone at the same time. While getting dressed I look down and there nothing but white cum from her all over the front part of my pants from the night before, I have to wear my shirt untucked like a bum. Brunch goes great, the place is popular and crowded but we still have the same energy from the night before. We are drinking bottomless mimosa and buzzing heavy or still drunk from the night before. We cab back to her bedroom on clouded dream. With our belly’s full and vodka on our breaths we fuck some more. There was a deepness to it, like we couldn’t get enough of each other. Like last night wasn’t a mistake and we needed to see our bodies naked in the daylight. This is what happens when two nymphomaniacs collide. Eventually we’d take a shower, wash each other, taste each other in the shower and fuck there. We dried off and stumbled back to her bed to pass out for a day nap.

We woke up around 6:00 pm. She had her roommate’s company party event thing to go to. I needed dinner and she suggested a spot right around the corner that she loved going to. I went and I enjoyed a good dinner, drank a good beer and watched some football on tv. About an hour in she texted me wondering if I was still there. I told her I was. She asked if I could wait a little bit and she’d walk back to join me. I told her of course. She came over and we ordered some drinks. We talked again. This time a little deeper a lot more personal. We got back to her place. We fucked again like gods. Once more in the morning. I leave her place at 7:00am on a Monday. We had just set personal records for longest first date ever. 8pm Saturday night to 7am Monday morning. It felt like fucking inception, like we lived a lifetime in those days and shared a relationship. We had three dates in about two days. WHO.THE.FUCK.DOES.THAT. We had fucked like the world was ending, till neither of us could take anymore. Her body was amazing to me. It was a thing of pure beauty. It was absolutely flawless in every way and turned me on down to my bones. She was a bad chick, brains, beauty, humor, depth. I couldn’t believe it was Monday. What did we do to each other? What worlds did we create and explore in her room? Where did we go? My depravity had not been quench in that way in years. She was a bad chick.

The following week we texted each other every day. I’d purposefully not text her through the day and in the evening she’d send me a text asking how my day was. The mutual attraction was there it was real. That next weekend she had to fly home for her great uncles 90th birthday. I was out for at a friend’s birthday party. My sister texted me and told me to come to Policy on U street for one of her friend’s Bachelorette party, they had a table and couldn’t finish all the bottles.

I showed up around midnight and the place was nuts. I’m drinking with her friends and getting wasted. I stumble to the bathroom and on the way back I notice a brunette. We lock eyes, we buy drinks we dance. We head outside I need to go home I’m wasted. She’s wasted too. We stand on the corner and I’m thinking about Delilah. I could go home and pass on this chick, but any guy who knows anything about game knows there are rules to this chick. The only way to not catch oneits or to keep a girl you like interested is to see and be with other girls. Delilah and I weren’t exclusive yet and for me to act otherwise would be a sucker’s bet. You meet an amazing a girl, have an amazing weekend with her think the game is a wrap and then she goes cold for no reason. That’s a rookie move. I say out loud fuck it. We jump into a cab and go back to her place. Her name is L, she’s a 36 year old law student, we fuck. I still think of Delilah, the Bad Chick.

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About The Author

Been in the game since 2005 and still learning everyday. But now I feel comfortable giving back and sharing wisdom with guys looking to improve one or two things in their lives that could increase their self confidence and the chance of having a favorable outcome in any romantic interaction with women. When you step to her you know you've already put in that work on your end. Nothing is left to chance.

1 Comment

  1. pont October 22, 2014 at 1:42 pm

    Great story, crisp writing. I didn’t get into the game to meet chicks, I got into game to get more of this exact kind of thing – intense experiences that make a tinder date with a make out to follow feel like drinking half a red bull to get amped after you know what raw coke feels like…..

    You ever think that the ability to go from a genuine and intense deep dive with someone, something with some real heart and soul behind it, to a drunken take down the next day/week is something we’ll never be able to turn off?

    Like, you had something for the main girl here, but obviously even while thinking about her, took down new business. You think that makes us broken as husband material, or is that the whole, tragic point? *cue nas*

    but seriously though.

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