The 14 hour drive from New York through the ancient East Coast mountains to Nashville, Tennessee went by fast due to the interesting and gorgeous scenery seen from the Blue Ridge Highway.
The fog overtook the highway and forced us to descend down to the valley and continue on from there.
As soon as we entered Nashville on that rainy Thursday night, I knew the city wasn’t going to disappoint. I rode down with two other guys and we had booked a private room at the downtown hostel. *One thing about Nashville is that it is one of the most expensive cities to stay in the entire country–the price of accommodation rivals NYC–I was shocked by this and was relieved that we found a place for under 200$ per night, even if it meant sleeping in a bunk-bed in a hostel.
The main strip downtown is Broadway, which looks and feels like a mini version of Bourbon Street in New Orleans that has been transported to the center of the country. People poured out in the streets in rivers of boozed up flesh, and music blared from each of the dozens of colorful bars on the strip.
My first night was a shitshow because I had lost my ID and had to sneak in to the bars. Nashville has one of the most strict door policies in the world–even if you are an 80 year old man who is a downtown regular, they won’t let you in without a valid ID. One strategy of getting in was having a partner-in-crime go in first while I hung around outside. After a few minutes he would stand by the entrance to have a cigarette and I would go up to him for a handshake right in front of the bouncer. He would slip me his ID while we shook and I would use it to get in the door.
I was on the hunt for local girls from Nashville and they are extremely rare on Broadway. Every broad I talked to was from out of town and wasn’t keeping my interest–so we had to move around a lot.
Another way I got myself in the bars was just to wait around the entrance for the inevitable scuffle that would happen either in the bar or right out front. When all the bouncers went rushing to stop the fight, I dashed through and blended in with the crowd.
The most ineffective way of getting in to a place that got me kicked out was slipping in through a rear entrance and running up the stairs–security kept an eye out for that sort of thing and I was forcibly removed for doing this.
By 1am I was tired of sneaking in and getting kicked out so I went back to one of the spots where the bouncer had let me in previously and told him that someone inside had stolen my money clip. He let me in and I parked there for the rest of the night. I talked to over a dozen girls on the rooftop that overlooked Broadway and not one was a local. The visiting girls in Nashville were incredibly easy to approach, friendly, and cute. The atmosphere of the entire city creates an air of friendliness that makes being social easy.
I was approached by girls who came up and asked where I was from, what my pendant was made of, and complimented my hat. It was a pleasant relief from many other cities where you feel like its hard work to make light conversation.
A group of ladies in the midst of a bachelorette party got excited when I told them that I was out looking to meet girls and they suggested that I drop the ‘hey’ upon my approaches and replace it with a ‘howdy y’all’. Then they all laughed as they watched me use my new opener and immediately get called out for my New York accent.
I said ‘howdy ya’ll’ to two slutty looking blonde girls who started teasing me with threesome suggestions within minutes. But when I left for a moment to go introduce my friend to a pair of ladies, I returned to them being lured to a pickup truck to do cocaine with a large, heavily tattooed guy. I told them to enjoy themselves and then spent the rest of the night teaching a bunch of guys how to run game on American girls.
As mentioned previously, Nashville is an extremely social city.
The next night was the meet-up that went haywire, which was a ton of fun, but descended into blackness.
On my last night in town I was on a mission to get laid. We had wandered around all day long hollering at ladies in the street–a funny thing about Nashville is that the girls tend to travel in large packs. The ugly ones stick with the uglies, fatties with fatties, and the sexy chicks also flock together–this makes things very convenient. They all tend to be very friendly and seem to be up for anything. Each time we stepped out on the sidewalk for a smoke, we were able to pull a group of cute girls back in the bar with us and hang out. It felt like fishing–luring girls in with your look and game.
As I was talking to a group of blondes we had reeled in from off the street, my buddy got engaged in conversation with a tall lady in a cowboy hat. I noticed that she had a really sexy friend sitting down at the table next to them. She made eye contact with me from across the bar, the first thing that came to my mind was ‘she looks like she gives great blowjobs’, and I left the blondes and approached her right away.
Upon the approach I saw that her leg was propped up on a chair and there was a big black temporary cast around it.
I smirked upon seeing the cast and my first words to her were “hey, what happened to your leg? Its broke!”
She lit up with smiles and told me a story of how she crashed on the ski slopes back in January during a trip to the mountains in her home state of Colorado.
This girl had a pretty face and a very sexy laugh that kept pouring out of her as I made fun of her poor ability to balance. She was older than the girls I’m used to hooking up with–she was 30, my average girl is 23–but her body was in better shape than any other in the bar (minus the broken leg), and we were having a great time together. In just a few minutes her eyes got wider, wetter, and developed in to a look that begged for me to escalate.
I took one of her crutches and removed the pad that covered the top.
I took the pad, waved it around like a big floppy dildo, and used it to slap her in the face and poke her boobs. She responded by going ‘Ohhhooooo!’, closed her eyes, tilted her head back and opened her mouth like she was being slapped by a cock.
The pad-penis came with me all around the bar and I proceeded to slap other girls in the face with it–most of them responded with exactly the same with the porno-faceshot expression. When they made the look, I announced to everyone watching “this girl is horny and wants some dick tonight!” and got some cheers from the onlookers. I called the pad my ‘slut gauge’ and the atmosphere in the bar was such that everyone agreed and laughed when they heard.
The slut-gauge was great for starting conversation and many guys weaseled their way in after I primed up girls along the bar with sloppy slaps to the face.
I returned to the girl with the broken leg and put the dildo-pad back on the crutch. She was laughing hard at everyone’s reaction and I asked her “When was the last time you had sex? It must have been a while since you’ve had that sexy broken leg…” and she said it had been months. I told her I was going to be careful not to break her leg some more and was very excited because I had never fucked anyone with a broken leg. It was going to take some precision but I was up for the challenge–and if it didn’t work out she could just give me a blowjob.
A few minutes later she said goodbye to her friends–who were concerned at first but let her go after I told them not to worry, I was going to be very careful and give their friend some much needed tension relief.
We hopped in a cab, I wasn’t going to take her back to the hostel, so we went searching for a hotel. It took 45 minutes of driving and a trek out by the airport before we finally found a place with an available room.
Hotel sex is usually extra dirty and this was no exception. The broke leg didn’t prove to be much of an issue and after she took off the cast and gave me a glorious blowjob–I stretched out her wounded limb flat on the bed while she lay on her side–this allowed me to slip in from the big spoon position and strategically pump away.
I recorded an interview with her right after we finished and had her describe in her own words how the events of the night went down. I’ll post up the interview on Monday.
We left the hotel before 7am because the plan that day was to be on the road to Kentucky by 8. I made it back to the hostel right as the other guys were getting ready to head out and we hit the highway as I recounted the tale of the girl with the broken leg.
If you enjoyed this story, check out Art of the One Night Stand. It goes in to even more detail about One Night Stands from around the world. I also breakdown each story at the end and point out the key parts of my game and which actions in particular worked best in the seduction.
Get Art of the One Night Stand here.