Having been with us for just over a month, on April 19 2009, the last chic on the list succumbed to the Casual Dater. In honor of these fallen chics I will be updating the blog in the coming weeks describing most, if not all of the sordid liaisons that were a product of the Hit List…

Cheers
-CD

Out of respect for the list (not the chics), I have decided to retire the word “chic” from all future posts and revert to “chicks.”

As we all know Ulysses is the mecca of the bar scene below Centre Street. It is here every Thursday evening both men and chics swing by for at least one drink to peruse the menu of bankers, traders, analysts, lawyers and other financial types that seek solace in a pint/drink/martini and the opportunity to wake up next to what at some point in the night was a “hot” warm body the next morning.

Perhaps this is where the DABA’s train their little DABIT’s from time to time. Understand that the average woman who goes to Ulysses is not to be underestimated, after all they are not the prey, they are the hunters. I know many DABA’s that have made the leap to MABA by meeting their then FBF at Ulysses.

Finding my usual spot at the bar (sans suit of course) about to have dinner after a long weathering day in the office, not in the mood for the “game” that ensues around, I concentrate on my turkey club and fries while catching up with the bartenders.

Here is the mistake most men who go to Ulysses make. It doesn’t matter if you wear a $3,000 suit when you live in fucking Brooklyn. Most women there want a man that has the “100″ at the start of his zip code. Now if you happen to saunter in shortly after Happy Hour starts in regular clothes, the first thing the astute DABA thinks is you live in the area, hence you are desirable.

I forgot to change my watch to something a bit more subdued. Like true gold diggers they found me. Now I usually wouldn’t mind, but I had my Turkey Sandwich sitting in front of me waiting to be devoured. Yet I had to put up with these pushy little twats coming to order drinks next to me and “accidentally” bumping in to me.

Deciding I had to have my sandwich and eat it, I waited for the right DABA. Eventually she showed, not a fault could be found with her physique. A goddess by any standard or definition.

As she ordered her drink and the bartender was about to charge her, I said to put it on my tab and went back to my sandwich. Surpirised I didn’ start talking to her, she asked why I would buy a drink and not say a word to her.

I simply replied, “you are kinda cute,” and once again went back to my sandwich.

Aside: She knows I am interested but not how much I’m interested. I would have probably ran around the bar naked for a shot at doing her. But I couldn’t let her know that.

Taking initiative upon herself she engages me in conversation, pretty smart I must say. When I was done eating I got up and told her to enjoy her evening. With a look of bewilderment on her face she asked if I were leaving already.

Here was my “in” so to speak. I could stay there and dance around the topic of sex all night or I could git er done.

Walking past her, I ran my fingers down her forearm till I grabbed hold of her hand and led her outside while she asked where we were going to which i relied, “my place or yours?”

Seeing as she lived maybe a block and a half away we went to her place. By the time we got out of her elevator, I was 3 fingers deep into her cheech.

Now I can tell you about the sex, but instead lets play a game, I’ll leave some space here and you fill it in with your version.

The next morning as I gathered my shyte to head home, cliche asks when we would be going out to dinner. Overcome with laughter, I gave her a “misadventuresindating.net” card and said wait for the DABA post, if you still want to talk to me, find my number…

I won’t hit on a chic at the gym unless she’s in tight tights, bent over on a leg machine with a phenomenal ass staring up at me. With that said, this beauty from Ipanema had all of the above and well, she was nothing short of amazing.

I made my way through every leg machine in her sight line (good thing I planned on working back that day) I threw gym etiquette to the wind by asking her out. I wish I can tell you I came up with some great line, but in simplicity there is beauty… And nothing as simply beautiful as the “yes” that rolled off her tongue.

Seeing as Sunday was too short a notice, and we both had plans, the next day would have to do.

Side note: Typically the easiest way to have a chic feel comfortable with you in the blink of an eye is to take her somewhere indicative of her culture/upbringing. In most cases, after religion, Brazilians love their food.

We met at Churrascaria Porcao, on Park Ave. Turns out we had a lot in common, we are both aggressive type A’s that need to get what we want and it turns out she is a Doctor, jokingly I said you aren’t a Chiropractor are you? I hear they aren’t really doctors… Apparently she found that funny and moved closer to me (I wouldn’t date a chiro, they are just average).

Through conversation, she said if I thought I was getting lucky tonight, I was sorely mistaken. Nonchalantly I said, “what makes you think I would sleep with you?” If she was anything that resembled a type A, her ego would parlay my rebuttal into a challenge.

Either way I win! No?

Being the chosen one that I am, we ended up at my place. Now I can go into details about the mind blowing sex I had with her, but the crux of the story is what happened in the morning while I was getting ready for work.

Side note 2: Brazilians, tend to be very religious (except we used a condom or 6) and respectful to older people. Plus they are the most beautiful women in the world!

My day usually begins at 5:30 in the AM, TV comes on with financial news, all the speakers throughout are a buzz with whatever the TV is spitting out.

I invite her to come shower with me and I even offered her  a toothbrush (we know it was going straight into the bin after she left, after all this was to be a one time appearance) to go with the shower. She declined saying she needed a few more minutes in bed.

OK, I had morning wood and had to basically pee upside down, I took a shower and got ready for work.

House Keeper: My house keeper is the shit, after my mother there is my house keeper and my secretary, no other women will ever come close. She has been with me for 4-5 years. She makes my breakfast, freshly squeezed OJ everyday, keeps my place clean, does my laundry and if she finds lingering thongs strewn about, she throws them away, never to be found.

I gently nudged Ipanema to get dressed and she said it;

“It’s OK, I can stay here and leave after you go to work.”

In my mind I’m like fuck no, so I did what any smart man would do. I told her to listen carefully, to which she heard my housekeeper setting my breakfast up. She asked who was that since I told her I lived alone.

I looked her square in the eye and said, “It’s my mom, she came to make me breakfast today.”

With the a look of fright and embarrassment she threw her clothes on and “convinced” me to sneak her out of my place.

Smiling I sat at the counter about to dig into my breakfast when my housekeeper bursts out laughing and says, “let me guess, I’m your mother?”

To which I said yes….

It’s now about 9:30 in the AM and I have already received 2 text messages from my Ipanema asking when we are going out again.

I think not….

Game, set and match? Me!

Ciao

Usually my friends and I do brunch once a week, seeing as this weekend one of our friends was going to commit social suicide (get married to a magnificent cunt), we decided on drinks at Brandy Library to celebrate his demise and keep the tradition of our weekly gathering.

Despite not having any strippers there, the place was filled with whores, perhaps not professionals, but gold diggers alike.

I was the last to join the group as I was kept back at work for an extra hour. By the time I got there, my buddies were multiple drinks in and slurring, a pleasant surprise was the grouping of what seemed to be a pack of Jersey girls (easy ass) seated a few tables over, complete with the big noses and overdone makeup. As I settled into my seat, drink in hand and being caught up on the conversations gone by, I noticed her, behind the gaggle Bon Jovi fans.

There she stood, I would venture to say she was 5′10, long legs that could probably be wrapped around you twice and subtle breasts that would convert any ass man. Utterly confused, not knowing what I should do, I made my way over to the bar and asked if she were hungry.

I assume she was taken back, we were at a bar and I asked if she were hungry instead of asking if she wanted a drink. In what I think was interest to see where I was going with this she said yes. I closed out my tab and left for Benihana.

Side note: Now I know what you are thinking. Why Benihana? Any douche could have taken her to Gyu-Kaku or something of the like. But I figured she had the world and more offered to her more times than I care to count and she is probably sick of it.

Stunned that I would take her from Brandy Library to a run of the mill hibachi spot, pleasantly surprised, she said she was relieved that I wasn’t taking her to Bond Street or Cipriani’s like all the other Bankers and Lawyers that pursued her.

If you have ever been, this place is for the masses, nothing special about it, other than the teppanyaki. A few bottles of saki, some fried rice and meat, we were laughing our asses off when we glanced over the subject of sex.

Obviously I perked up when she said she always wanted to be watched but didn’t think she could have a third person in the room watching her.

With that these simple words rolled out of my mouth, “Would you say you’re adventurous?”

Taking a moment to deliberate over her answer she asked what I had in mind. And again I repeated myself this time gently squeezing the inside of her thigh. Where she said yes, but she still couldn’t deal with a third person.

I told her not to worry, there are multiple ways to get your fantasy.

Having done this before I called ahead to the Hilton Times Square for a room on the 4th floor, while watching her smile with the street lights glistening through the cabs window onto her lips, neck and chest. Inhibitions out the window we started making out in the cab, my hands running the course of her incredibly long legs and squeezing her ass.

Barely able to keep my hands off of her while we checked in, we finally made it to the room, the foreplay was on the walls, the bed and even in the shower. But the main event took center stage at the window facing Times Square, her nipples pressed up against the glass, with one leg raised onto the sill with me taking her from behind. I could see her reflection and she smiled more and more when she noticed people noticing her.

After a few more positions with her trying to dig her fingers into the window, my favorite being her facing the window with both legs spread open up on the sill reaching over her head holding onto mine (no pun intended) and me sliding in and out of her with varying tempo and direction, we took it to the bed where she continued to orgasm after orgasm.

She could definitely move. Dare I say she may have even taught me a few things.

The next morning, I awoke to her bringing in breakfast from outside, which I actually liked. We got dressed and went our separate ways.

After putting her into a cab and waiting for mine, I realized I failed to ask for her number. With regret, I hopped into a cab headed home to get ready for work.

It wasn’t until I took cash out of my pocket to pay, when I noticed a key card and a slip of paper that read, “9P.M. same room, Rahel – (917)XXX-XXXX.”

I assume when she went out for breakfast she got the room for another day.

Looks like I will be having some evening delight later on tonight.

The night started off with what some would call a boring uneventful dinner with clients and their wives. As if having my mother constantly nagging as to when and/or if I would ever get married, I had to put up with a barrage of questions form my clients wives as they tried to pry into my social life. One went so far as to be willing to set me up with her daughter. To which I politely declined. After all fucking a co-worker is perfectly acceptable, on the other hand fucking your clients daughter when said client knows what you are due to his many nights out sans wife, is generally not a way to make your career.

Side note: This is one of my oldest clients, When I moved from my last company to their competitor he came without a question asked.

As the dinner wound down, picking up a scent that the gentlemen weren’t quite ready to go back to the hotel, but they didn’t want their wives to come out, I mentioned my analysts had just finished the proposal and we should stop by the office to hammer out the details. Reluctantly the ladies agreed as we had the car take them back to the hotel.

When the car cracked the corner, cigars were lit and the pats on my shoulder began. Now these guys were in their late 50’s and desperate for a night out on the town. Knowing they had a penchant for the 22-25 year old women, I decided there was only one place to take them to have their ego’s stroked. Hudson Bar.

Usually no one gets a table here, but I couldn’t have then standing like a bunch of schlubs waiting on the little pixies to wander over. So I did what I had to, a bottle of single malt scotch, a bottle of vodka and 3 bottles of champagne. Don’t worry they will be billed back for all this at some point I’m sure.

As the waitress was bringing the mixers to our table I slipped her a couple bills and asked she send over some women who weren’t put off by older men. So said so done. Within minutes the waitress was bringing chic after chic. When the guys got settled in with their lady friends I decided to set up position at the bar and perhaps find a warm body for the night.

True to form I gave the bartenders the once over and set up shop so to speak at the hottest ones station. Her body was ridiculous, not an ounce of fat, an ass you could eat all night and the right amount of perky tits for her 5′2″ frame. I leaned over ordered my drink and turned away to wait for my drink.

As expected she tried to get my attention to give me the drink, but I waiting till she leaned over to tap my shoulder. Turning around I said “sorry I couldn’t hear you” with my fathers sly smile half cocked.

We spent the next couple hours talking, flirting and probing for a little background on each other.

As the minutes turned to hours it was time for me to put my clients into a car and send them home. Good timing to, as she was closing out her shift.

After my clients were gone, I headed back upstairs, asked her for a piece of paper, I wrote down the name of a diner and I told her there would be a car waiting downstairs to bring her for breakfast in about 30 minutes and I walked away.

While I was walking away, she said “you don’t know my name, you haven’t asked for my number and what if I don’t show?” Turning around I said nothing ventured nothing gained and left.

Well I’m happy to blog she showed up at the diner and we had breakfast, it was here we introduced ourselves and exchanged names and numbers. I’m still trying to get over the fact that her name is Babbette. Deciding that I had to slow play her to get her in bed I dropped her home after breakfast and waited a few days to call her.

Now here is the thing about bartenders, they hear it all. So you have to make some form of effort.

Eventually Friday rolled around and I had taken the day off when I called her and asked for her address, initially she asked why and I said I needed to know where to pick her up.

When I picked her up. She kept asking where we were going, all I told her was to pack a bag in case we got wet. About an hour and half later we got to a vineyard on Long Island, not too far from a great hotel .

We spent a few hours on the tour and sampling different wines when I threw it out there. “We can stay for the night or we can go back to the city.”

Without any hesitation she agreed, we were both having a great time and decided to venture out of the area for dinner. Found a great hole in the wall restaurant where we shared stories and gained a bit of insight into each other.

After dinner we went back to the jacuzzi in our room. Now I don’t know about you but, Hot tub + wine + 2 horny people = A GREAT FUCKING TIME!

The sex was nothing short of great. I would even give her an A+.

We ended up making a weekend out of it and we still hook up every couple days. Maybe I can get her to do a 3 way with the Indian.

By the way she was Cuban, strike off number 4…

Admittedly, this one was hard to find, so I decided to use good old faithful, to find some authentic Spaniard ass (as in  directly from Spain). Match.com. After spending the better part of 2 days to find and chat with this one online, we decided to meet close to her. She lives in Astoria, known for its ambiance and great food I chose Cavo.

Getting there early to set up for my encounter, I had a couple drinks with the bartender. Let me tell you , this breathtaking Moldavian beauty made me want to ditch my date, but she had to work the bar so I had to settle for  the Spaniard.

My date, now 15 minutes late arrives, after giving her the once over I opted for drinks over dinner, still  thinking of my bar maid, plus she looked a lot better in her pictures. In person I’d give her a sober 7 out of 10. But she was a means to an end, after all her purpose was to help me strike number 3 off of the list.

Sitting at the bar, force to feign some degree of interest I started self medicating. Goose and Red Bull, one after the other. Just as I was approaching a zen state of buzz, she did it. She started playing with her hair.

Was this a sign from the gods? Could I start making my move to go back to her place? Turning on whatever charm I had left in me, I seduced her within minutes.

Deciding to kill 2 birds with one stone, I let her touch me and try to make out with me (obviously to see if the bartender was interested). I slid my fingers up along the seem of her jeans to what I would  assume to be  a rather moist and hopefully delectable pussy. Not sensing any resistance from her I threw some cash on the the bar and led her out.

Side note: She lived 2 blocks away.

My blood pressure starting to build with the anticipation of the kill, I put my arm around her waist sliding  one of my fingers under the waistband of her jeans while walking to her place, gently squeezing from time to time to keep her in the mood.

From the moment we got back to her place we were naked and and I was going for the gold. There was nothing I wouldn’t try to do with her, afterall it wasn’t like I was going to see her again, well not intentionally anyway.

After fucking her a couple times (she gets a B- for the sex), I got up and got dressed.

Chic: What are you doing? Where are you going?
Me: I’m going home.
Chic: You can stay for the night.
Me: No, I already did what I had to do.

Chic starts crying and cursing saying she feels used.

While walking out of her room, I tossed a card that simply read “casualdater.net” told her to check out the website in a week or two and it will explain everything.

Adios…

Anyone who knows me can say I am a sucker for a tanned chic with long black flowing hair, and usually Indian women fit this bill.

The night started off at Spice Market in the Gold Diggers District for a buddy’s birthday dinner.  As tradition dictated, if it were during the week it was to be a dinner celebration just for the guys. Or so we thought…

Not your parents Bollywood.

After making our way downstairs with mojito’s in hand, our rather stunning hostess sat us down next to a gaggle of women who had the “librarian” look. You know, demure, innocent quiet looking. And like most, if not all women that possess the librarian look we expected them to be well vigorous to say the least.

Side note: the chics were Italian, Greek, Brazilian, Lebanese, Indian and Brazilian.

Side note 2: this is why these guys are my friends. Without a single word we started moving our table to join their’s.

Startled, surprised and blood rushing to their cheeks, one of then mustered the courage to ask what we were doing.

Goose, stepping up to the plate simply replied, “well you ladies look bit bored, we thought we would make your evening memorable, or at least try to.”

Side note 3: I believe women are in desperate need of real men and are bored with the sniveling effeminate pseudo male specimens (hipsters included) walking the streets of New York.

Without another word, my friends and I took our seats and started engaging in conversation with the women. Surprisingly, they actually had opinions and what not. Turns out they were all second year residents at Cornell on 68th and Yorke.

Perking up we make it know who was after which chic. After all its not everyday you find a woman much less 6 women that have the ability to possibly mount a challenge.

Thinking that Indian is next on my list I engage Neha (not her real name) in conversation about her chosen profession, after all I was pre-med at one point. Plus how hard can it be to insert scalpel and cut LOL.

After an hour and a half or so of what turned out to be great conversation and decent food, it came out that these ladies were all off tomorrow and looking to have a good time. Now a good time doesn’t necessarily mean sex, but tonight we were going to steer it that way.

We opted to stay there for a couple more drinks as opposed to going somewhere else and possibly loosing a chic or 2 and hence killing anyone else’s shot at some ass.

While talking to Neha she told me she always wanted to smoke hookah. Low and behold I told her that I had one back at my place and invited her to come with saying that I wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want me to do. Good thing I can be very convincing….

We get back to my place, while Im packing the hookah she is walking around giving herself a tour, peering into my closets, bathroom and of course taking a peak at my bedroom. I put Grey’s Anatomy on (I just had to) the TV and we started smoking hookah and drinking some wine.

Here is the moment I knew she was mine. She inhaled some of the smoke and came within a millimeter of my lips and started blowing the smoke onto me. Waiting for her to finish, i reached behind her head and pulled her in for what would be the first kiss of many. Dropping the hose of the hookah she moves over and starts straddling me. running her hands through my hair then taking my shirt off.

I’m laying on top of her, foreplay is great, she tasted even better when I went down on her (obviously she passed the smell test). Deciding it was more primal, I picked her up and started fucking her up against the wall, her moaning made me want her more, the depth of her breathing sending me deeper inside with each stroke. She started reaching around when I felt her nails sink into me, wrought with unadulterated passion I started slamming her into the wall every time she dug in.

Eventually after we took each other to multiple orgasms she gets up and makes her way to my bedroom with a come hither look and the smile of the devil I had seen so many times before on my face.

This librarian wasn’t done with me. We ended up fucking for the better part of the night, by my last count we had sex in at least 15 positions in the bedroom.

After sleeping for about 2 hours I woke up at about 6 A.M. to what I would consider an A class blowjob.

Me being me I reached into my night table for a condom picked her up and took her to the shower.

We ended up in bed again till she had to leave at 10 A.M.

As she was getting dressed she looked over and asked, if I wanted her number or was this just a one night stand for me.

Pleasantly surprised I didn’t get the “I don’t usually do these things” line, I pulled her back in bed for a couple more hours of fun.

Turns out she may stick around as a fuck buddy, because in her words, she didn’t have the time or need for a relationship.

Finally a woman that speaks my language!

Lesson learned, never judge a book by its cover or it’s first read…

Some talk of a point system. I on the other hand much prefer getting my end wet. I have made my way through the first 10 and will blog them in days to come. With that said, each chic gets a yes or a no for being fucked. Plain and simple.

Having just closed a deal in this PoS market I decided my team deserved a night out on the town. It was time to go big, or go home. This wasn’t going to be a night for the timid. Hell I’d even wager that the women on my team have bigger balls than 90% of you sheep reading this.

Let me preface by saying in NYC “The Jewish Chic” has a reputation for their love of swallowing, but ineptitude for a proper dick sucking…

As we entered I knew the status-quo of this dive would not tolerate our behavior or lack there of, doing the only thing to guarantee our position in the bar I ordered a few bottles of Goose and Champagne (none of that cheap shit you see in the rap videos) for my guys.

Tonight I decided was going to be about my team. Let them cut loose before I put them back into their boxes.

After a couple of hours, now starting to hear the same stories over and over I figured I would ride my haze of Goose and Club over to the bar to find a warm body for the night.

To my surprise, there were a pair of women (one standing the other sitting) at the bar, equally gorgeous. At first sight I knew the traditional approach wouldn’t work on either.

Pealing off my jacket I eased in between and ordered a Dirty Martini. When The svelte tanned beauty that turned out to be Israeli said “excuse me, but we were talking here”.

While hanging my jacket on the back of her stool, I said it’s was OK I didn’t mind with a smile on my face.

Apparently she was taken back by my brazen move and introduced herself as Anya and her friend Alinee.

Within half an hour, the three of us were laughing, touching and flirting with each other. Before we knew it, it was closing time. While in the elevator Alinee begins telling me that she is a fan of anal sex, immediately I forgot about Anya. Apparently you don’t leave Baby in the corner. Anya crept up from behind slipping her hand into my pants while reaching for Alinee. With what I would assume is a nod of approval she says ok lets go back to your place.

Side note: Aline was 32, fit and had long flowing dark hair.

Finally back to my place, music on, lights low and wine flowing like water, Alinee and Anya begin making out running their hands all over each others body. We started with the foreplay and the oral sex, but all I could think about was sinking my cock into Alinee’s Brazilian Ass. Every time Anya came onto me  it was as though I were letting my chances with Alinee slip through my fingers.

Side note 2: As I learned later they are bi and are in a relationship with each other.

Tired of the foreplay I decided to bend Anya over my couch and I started fucking her from behind. The sight of Alinee playing with herself coupled with me slamming in and out of Anya made me harder than I have been in years. It was as though I were reliving my youth.

Eventually it was Alinee’s turn. Now it was time for me to do the obligatory fuck her in the pussy for 10 minutes before I could spend hopefully the better part of half an hour in her ass, as this was the moment I was waiting for. One problem, I used my last condom on the Israeli. With that, I was resigned to have only had sex with the Jewish Chic.

At least I got one off the list.

Shalom…

At first I decided to count previous conquests (13 based on the list) from within the last 3-4months. However Harper of The Daily Flavor (creator of the actual list) threw in a rule; “all conquests must be new”. Always up for a challenge and for something we shall call professional courtesy I decided to oblige.

Here are the rules;

1. Must all be after March 16 2009.
2. Each may only be counted in one category.
3. No additions, subtractions or substitutions.
4. Show no mercy, take no prisoners.

As I circumnavigate my way through the list, I will strike them off and perhaps blog it.

Updates can be found on The Hit List page.

Here is my list;

1. The Jewish Chic
2. The Indian Chic
3. The Spaniard Chic
4. The Cuban Chic
5. The Argentinian Chic
6. The Brazilian Chic
7. The Middle Eastern Chic
8. The Greek Chic
9. The Swedish Chic
10. The Brit Chic
11. The European Chic (Russian)
12. The Bo Derek (10) Chic
13. The Artist/Musician/Model/Waitress (also the hot dumb chic)
    
14. The Athletic Chic
15. The Good Chic (Best Liar)
16. The Bad Chic (Slut)
17. The Dog Lover Chic
18. The Doctor Chic
19. The Attorney Chic
20. The Over 30
21. The Single Mom Chic
22. The Bridge and Tunnel (B&T/SI) Chic
23. The Blue Collar Chic
    
24. The Ivy league/DABA/ High Maintenance Girl Chic
25. The Party Girl Chic