Stories of How to Get Laid Easily

How to Get Laid Easily

The potency of killer heels

“One time I was on my home after a long night’s clubbing. Alone. Sure, I’d got chatting to quite a few girls but it was just one of those occasions when most just wanted to be my friend. I happened to pass a couple of girls sitting at a bus stop, looking out for taxis. As I strolled by, the cuter one wolf-whistled. I paused and asked: ‘Are you always this forward?’ She smiled and insisted she was showing her appreciation of my choice of shoes. ‘I love your footwear,’ she insisted. So we got talking about favorite shoes. ‘I love your heels,’ I replied. She frowned. ‘They might look drop dead gorgeous but they don’t half hurt after several hours on a dancefloor. Boy could I do with a massage.’ Leaving this image hanging in the air, she bounced up and hailed a passing cab. I asked which way she was heading. She said: ‘Do you know anywhere I might get a decent massage at this time in the morning?’ I smiled back. ‘Of course,’ I stated, flexing my fingers. She grasped my hand. ‘Good. We can drop my friend off en route.’ Needless to say, I’m no masseur but my technique had her purring like kitten all the way to my bedroom. Thank God she had sore feet.

Kiss first, talk later

“There are some clubs that get known as cattlemarkets. You know the type? The doorstaff seem oblivious to anything as mundane as safety regulations and just keep on admitting floods of hormonal young guys and girls. It’s five deep at the bar. The music is pulverizing your eardrums. Doing shots with your mates seems the only way of anesthetizing you as to how unpleasant an experience it actually is. But there is an upside to being inside this sort of rammed venue. It gets hot. Stiflingly hot. This means the women tend to dress according to the adage ‘less is more.’ A lot less. The display of low-cut tops and micro-skirts is enough to bring any young bloke’s testosterone levels to the boil. Also, the decibel-level means conversation isn’t always practical. Nine times out of ten, all you need is good dress sense, a smart haircut and the ability to flash a charming smile. You just walk over to any dazzling beauty who catches your eye, and move in. Last night I approached a raven-haired beauty and without a word she threw her arms around me and pulled me closer to her bountiful cleavage. Who needs smalltalk? I found myself in the back of a taxi speeding back to her flat, kissing as if we’d known each other for considerably longer than, what, 75 minutes? We had a terrific night together, although I couldn’t be sure if we ever got round to exchanging names.”