When young and single, my standard practice was to befriend the popular female at work, clubs, and circle of friends. Usually, she wasn't attractive or even close to my age (which was young at the time), but very sweet or very gregarious. I even bedded a few of these women, but that was not my aim. My goal was to let her function as my free PR firm. She would broadcast my kindness, consideration, sense of humor, and self-confidence. It worked. Moreover, when breaking up with a girlfriend, I always strove to do so gently and lovingly. (This not only prevented slashed tires, but left her female friends at least neutral with me.)
Here is a story that comes to mind. I had just left my car with my mechanic and was walking home, when an attractive woman pulled her car over to ask me if I needed a ride. I did, so I took her up on her offer. I didn't recognize her, but she recognized me. She was the best friend of one of my ex-girlfriends. Apparently, we had met before, but I had no memory of it. As we drove off, she rested her hand on my thigh. I didn't say anything, but I did stop talking and looked down at her hand. Embarrassed, she retracted her hand. She explained that my ex-girlfriend had told her so much about me that she felt that she already knew me very well. At my place, I thanked her and offered to take her to dinner as repayment for her kindness—if she was willing to drive us. She was willing, very willing.
The next day, she called me and told me that rather than go out for dinner, she wanted to cook for me. She picked me up; and I insisted that we stop so I could buy a nice bottle of wine. At her place, she cooked away, looking very sexy in her cocktail drees and barefoot. As she cooked, we finished half the bottle of wine. I asked where the bathroom was and was told that it was down the hall. I opened a closed door and saw a bedroom filled with stuff, another man's stuff, clothing, golf clubs, shoes, a hunting rifle… All of it stacked up and forced into the small bedroom. Eventually, I found the bathroom.
We never finished our meal, as we ended up fucking half way through. It started when I noticed that she hadn't eaten any of the garlic bread she had made. I explain that if we were going to kiss, our mouths had to taste the same. A few nibble later, we were making out like horny teenagers. Soon, we were naked.
Afterwards, I asked her if I lived up to hype my ex-girlfriend must have told her. She informed that I had exceeded her very high expectations. (I had put on a good performance, as I figured she expected one.)
The next day, I contacted a woman who had to know her well, as she worked with her. I wanted to find out what her living situation was. I learned that her live-in boyfriend of over five years was on a business trip that week.
