Euro-jaunt …chapter twelve

I’d decided to return to Prague. It was almost the end of summer and I wanted to make the most of the nice weather. Possibly the greatest attribute of central and southern Europe, the Indian like summers. I wanted to explore the city again, get a new feel for it, and talk to some new girls obviously.
I’d seen other guys talking to girls in the street there. More so than any other city I’d visited. It seemed Prague was some kind of Mecca for pick-up artists. I still didn’t like the idea of being associated with them, even now that I was in cahoots with them. I just wanted to meet exciting happy women, have fun, and possibly fall in love. I didn’t align myself with some guys method for doing it.
Love had seeped into my life through following this path but I was feeling resistance from Jenaya. Her texts were becoming less frequent. I could sense she was losing interest. I blamed myself for not spending enough time in Stockholm and cursed myself for coming back to Prague when I should have went there instead. My only remedy was to remind myself why I started this journey. It was more for adventure than for a wife. To gain life experience and confidence and simply have a lot of sex along the way.
Maybe those other guys I’d see chatting up girls were on a similar path. The guys in Sweden felt like they were. I didn’t see any of them as competition of any kind. I liked that they were also trying to improve themselves.

On one of my first days back in the city I’d just finished eating dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant. Vietnamese restaurants were everywhere in Prague. The sun was still high in the sky and there was a warm breeze flowing through the city. It was around 7pm when a cute curvy girl with long wavy hair and chubby cheeks walked by. I’ve always had a penchant for the chubby cheek variety.
I said hello and we began to chat. I believe she thought I was a lost tourist to begin with. When my intent became clear she blushed and smiled. She had an adorable smile and feminine voice. Everything about her was smiles and agreement. We swapped numbers and off she went to a party she was attending.

Two days later we met and went for a walk in the park overlooking the city. Veronika informed me she was nineteen and wanted to improve her English. It caused me to flinch a little. Normally this would be a red flag. That she was just meeting me to practice her vocabulary, but something about the way her eyes glistened when she looked at me said the attraction was real.
We took a seat on a bench and I soon went to try and kiss her. It was reluctantly accepted.
As my non chubby cheek brushed against her very chubby cheek it felt like a small silk balloon. I took her hand which was also as soft as silk. So I told her, “Your skin is really silky soft.” By my own admission it felt like a weak thing to say, but she seemed to like it. Those cheeks flushed again like ripe apples.
It was difficult to pinpoint a root cause for her flawless complexion. It was partly her age but not all nineteen year old’s have great skin. My conclusion was good genetics, or a great moisturiser. Maybe both.
We headed in the direction of my place. With the promise of a refreshing cola drink. She happily followed me in. My bedroom had a coffee table and a couch, which was convenient. We sat there and chatted for a while. Her boobs were so big and restrained in her shirt it was hard not to look. Each time her eyes averted away from me I shot a glance towards them. I felt they needed to be released.
We kissed again. It was a longer kiss than the first. I decided to try and escalate things and got a firm no from her. The breasts would remain imprisoned. For now.
I got up and explained I was going in the kitchen to make a peanut butter snack. I was in there a while. Maybe she got a bit lonely. I would surmise while I was gone she’d had a good think about about whether or not I was a sex worthy enough man and given me a stamp of approval.
When I came back into the room and kissed her again there was no longer resistance. Hallelujah! I tore at her clothes. Unleashing her breasts. As well as the amazing skin, her body was like a blemishless sex doll. The voluptuous bouncing boobs and perfect pussy were a pleasant surprise. However when she tied her hair back to give me a blow job it further enhanced the chubby cheeks and somehow reminded me of a farmers daughter. The sex was still good but her lack of experience showed in her confidence. I always wished girls would care less about what we’re thinking while in the bedroom. Don’t they know high self esteem is a major turn on.
I didn’t get to eating the peanut butter toastie. I didn’t care. My insatiable hunger had switched to something else. I’ve always thought of my sex addiction as both a blessing and a curse.

The next day I was in the city just walking around. I wasn’t in the mood much for talking to girls. I was elated from my now third lay from a girl I’d met casually in the street. I could still hardly believe it.
Despite my motivation taking a back seat I’d agreed to meet an Italian pick-up guy I’d been put in contact with. He sounded like a fun wing to have. Happy. Positive. We agreed to meet in front of a Zara store. I got there early and took a seat in the sunshine to wait. He’d be along soon enough. While I sat there I perused the passers by, ‘She’s pretty. He looks weird. I dont like her. His shoes are cool,’ all the usual thoughts that fill our judgemental minds. I continued to watch until I recognised a familiar figure moving towards me. The bald head. The bad boy style leather jacket and black jeans. The swagger. His name was Nick Krauser. He was a leader of sorts. A big name amongst the pick-up artist guys. I knew who he was and what he looked like because he was friends with Bodi, the guy who’d convinced me start this whole expedition. Krauser had coached Bodi. They’d traveled together and lived together at some point in some kind of pick-up artist convent in London. Bodi eventually did agree to introduce me, but Krauser was hardly ever in Newcastle. I assumed Bodi must have mentioned my name to him.
He casually strolled towards me. The strangest part was that Krauser didn’t know what I looked like. I was only certain of his appearance because of his online YouTube reputation. Yet he walked right up to me, stopped, and just stood there next to me, looking at his phone.
“Nick?” I asked
“Yeah?”
He turned to me. Assessing my face to figure out if he knew me or had spoken to me before. He had blue eyes that said something. That had seen things. I felt a grounded presence but not a toxic one like so many people had suggested.
“I’m Jack, Bodi’s friend …from Newcastle.”
“Oh, hello mate,” a hand outstretched and we shook, “yeah he did mention you.”
“Was weird that you walked right up to me there and stopped.”
“Did I? I was just messing about with my phone. Texting some tart I’m on my way to meet, making sure she’s on her way. You over here chasing skirt?”
“I suppose I am yeah.”
“I’ve been spending a lot of time here too. Czech girls like me,” he said smugly, “but I’m heading back to Newcastle tomorrow. You live there right?”
“Yeah. I’ve been away a lot lately too though.”
“Well I’ll get your number from Bodi. We can maybe grab a coffee while your there.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
He swanned away with confidence. He seemed like a normal down to earth nice guy. Completely different to the tsunami of hate there seemed to be online aimed at him.

Click here for chapter thirteen