Archive for the ‘The Pleasure Principle’ Category

This post is presented “as is”, with neither editorial condemnation nor endorsement. Read at your own risk.

There are scores of CH posts in the archives dealing with game for married men: How to (re)seduce your wife, and how to seduce applicants for mistresshood. But there aren’t many posts about picking up married women. An odd oversight, or a tribute to a latent moral code in the heart of CH?

Nevertheless, we feel it is important to give it all to the reader: The light, the dark, and the chaotic. To shy from forbidden topics would be a refutation of everything the Heartiste abides.

Will writes,

this is what I do if they are married or have BFs (you’d be surprised how many girls wear fake rings to weed out the weak.)

Anyway, the line is simple

Alpha-In-Training:” so, let’s grab a drink sometime.”

Cougar: “Oh! That’s so sweet, but I’m engaged, see my ring?”

AiT: “Hey, it’s just coffee”
::hands her the phone with the ‘New Contact’ screen already open::

C: “I shouldn’t…”

AiT: “How about this, I’ll shoot you a text and you can think it over.”

Works like a charm.
The above does two things. It demonstrates that you are persistent and get what you want. Secondly, she has plausible deniability. You’ve given her jiminy cricket a way to justify her giving out her number.
It sails right past any objections in a smooth manner.

The “it’s just coffee” and “I’ll shoot you a text and you can decide.” win 80% of the time.

I’m of the belief, perhaps optimistic, that a married woman truly, deeply in love with her husband cannot be seduced to betrayal. If I’m right, the problem remains: Just how many married women truly, deeply love their husbands? In this diversifying, slut parading, trust-cratering society we call a nation, vows of fidelity seem quaint. How many wives would you trust to uphold their end of a marital contract when every signal and every noise encourages female empowerment through perfidy?

Will is basically correct about the two premises that must be established when picking up married women. One, you’ve got to foresee and neutralize objections. This is obvious. Married women aren’t going to jump to pressure tactics. It’s too easy for them to lean on the crutch of their back-at-home hubbies when the heat comes between their legs. This means, in practice, giving her hamster a lotta room to spin. You’ll be courtly aloof, but with white hot sexual intent communicated all the same.

Two, all you need is her number. Unless she’s aggressively seeking an excuse to cheat, an insta-date isn’t likely an option. Secure her digits, then text her once later, maybe even a few days later, so that the temptation to sin simmers in her.

The happily married woman can’t be “taken with extreme prejudice” like the single woman. She will need to feel like she’s exercising some control over the proceedings, and she will need to feel like she can walk at any time.

On a related subject, a buddy I knew sometimes wore a fake wedding ring when he departed for the hunt. The first time he did this, I told him it was counterproductive. Surely, most girls will balk at getting hit on by a married man? He smiled, and said, “I have a line with this ring. ‘Oh, I’m not married. I just wear this ring to scare away stalker girls.’ Or I say, ‘It keeps away unwanted attention.’ It really messes with their heads. It’s like when hot girls sometimes wear fake wedding rings so they don’t get bothered by guys all the time. I’m telling them the same thing, except with the sexes reversed.”

magistro meo, mi amice…

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Tucked in the CH archives is a seminal (heh) post on the subject of male sexual pleasure and how it relates to women’s hotness. It was titled “Hotter Women, Better Sex” and it scandalized neophyte ears, and provoked knowing nods from romantically experienced players.

I suspect the people who think that men chase hot girls the most feverishly so as to lord it over other men have an agenda. They want to believe that human nature is not immutable; that with the right amount of peer pressure and fist-shaking at the media juggernaut men’s desires can be altered — tamed — to accommodate their conceit. And pride is malleable where thermonuclear blasts of lust are not.

If, on the other hand, men pursue the best-looking women at the behest of hidden compulsions buried deep in the reptilian cores of their brains, then there is nothing can be done to change this fact of manhood and what it means for less attractive girls.

How your body responds to a woman during sex tells the tale. The hotter I find the girl, the better the sex is, all else being equal.

What followed was a jizzbomb chart positively correlating a woman’s attractiveness with the liquid volume and ejection force of a man’s ejaculation.

Not satisfied with field observations, undersexed nerds demanded SCIENCE. It was supplied:

Slimmer Women’s Waist is Associated with Better Erectile Function in Men Independent of Age.

Previous research has indicated that men generally rate slimmer women as more sexually attractive, consistent with the increased morbidity risks associated with even mild abdominal adiposity. To assess the association of women’s waist size with a more tangible measure of perceived sexual attractiveness (as well as reward value for both sexes), we examined the association of women’s age and waist circumference with an index of men’s erectile function (IIEF-5 scores), frequency of penile-vaginal intercourse (PVI), and sexual satisfaction in a representative sample of Czechs (699 men and 715 women) aged 35-65 years. Multivariate analyses indicated that better erectile function scores were independently associated with younger age of self and partner and women’s slimmer waist. PVI frequency was independently associated with women’s younger age and women’s slimmer waist. Sexual satisfaction was independently associated with men’s younger age and slimmer waist for both sexes. Better erectile function, greater PVI frequency, and greater sexual satisfaction were associated with women’s slimmer waist, independently of both sexes’ ages. Possible reasons for the waist effects were discussed, including women’s abdominal body fat decreasing their own desire through neurohormonal mechanisms and decreasing their partner’s desire through evolutionarily-related decreased sexual attractiveness.

The vigor of the splitter is the smack of the fact. An hourglass-shaped, slender young woman is nature’s viagra, yohimbe, and horny goat weed compound, delivered with a hit of Ecstasy.

Interestingly, there’s a female version of the CH “hotter women = better sex” formula. Reader RosieOnMaChest stumbles on it:

Asshole game!

Women really do behave differently in bed with alphas and betas.

Since adopting a more alpha persona, around 5 years ago. Apart from upping the standard of women I let into my life, I’ve found one other very unexpected bonus…. Sex is a whole lot better and a whole lot wilder.

Once a woman assesses you as alpha, there seems to be almost nothing she won’t do to please you in bed. Two of the current plates have started sticking their tongues into my asshole . Kind of shocked me at first but I guess it’s just a sign of the times.

Sign of the hinds.

This is what I call the “More Alpha = Better Sex” formula, and a chart should help clarify exactly what it measures.

First, an explanation of the variables.

“Moan strength” is the loudness of the woman’s sex moans. Obvi.

“Shakes strength” is how much control over her body the woman loses during lovemaking.

“Pliability” is the woman’s willingness to indulge the man’s sexual fantasies, no matter how freakish.

Presenting… the handy dandy alpha maleness-to-female pleasure chart:

status of man      moan strength           shakes strength        pliability
omega dreg         sounds of silence       zen stoicism             she calls the shots
omega                grunt of annoyance    she can multitask     carbonite rigidity
greater omega    disguised wince         stilted pelvic grind    100 “no”s, 1 “yes”
lesser beta          1db college try          did a muscle tense?   it’s your birthday!
pubertal beta     10dbs (cat meow)      0.1 second toe curl   it’s our anniversary!
beta                   20dbs (puppy yap)     brief shiver               pre-coital BJ
striver beta        30dbs (dog bark)        1 back scratch          doggy style
greater beta      50dbs (black woman)  10 back scratches      mirrors
lesser alpha     70dbs (2 black women)  leg tourettes             cameras
alpha                100dbs (corvette)      dog shitting peach pit   chandelier
supraalpha        150dbs (jet engine)     call a sexorcist         “i am your slave”

There are many reasons for a man to learn game and ascend the ladder of alpha maleness, but one goes unmentioned far too often: The better your game, the more pleased your women will be with your sexual healing.


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The shapes of female figures have real world consequences, for both men’s capacity to experience pleasure and willingness to commit, and for women’s ability to leverage the sexual market to snag a winner man and fulfill their romantic needs. Given that men, unlike women, are neurally primed to get aroused and motivated solely by stimulating visual cues, it’s difficult to overestimate just how much a good body shape assists women in the promise of a healthy and happy love life.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder” is a lie insofar as it presupposes every female body type is equally attractive. They aren’t. Women don’t have equal sexual or marriageable worth. Some body types are better than others. And one body type is so much better than the others that women who possess it can name their price.

The Anti-Gnostic, ruddy and taut from doing a yeoman’s job disinfecting that cistern of stupidity at Cheap Chalupas whenever the subject turns to mass nonwhite immigration, forwards a handy chart illustrating the four five female body types.

He adds for effect,

Female body types: hourglass, pear, banana, apple.

I’d add a body type of “rotund”, given the historically unprecedented numbers of fertile, obese females.

Never bonked an apple or a rotund. Ever. I’ve had some widely variant sexual partners, but if she doesn’t have inflection points that result in a definite waist, the right subinsular is just not going to be firing. No amount of drugs or desperation on earth could get me over that hump.

The recently added Rotund fifth female body type:

Who said America’s inventive spirit is dead? We’ve invented a whole new female body type!

Of the five, rotund is obviously the most disfiguring, and the ugliest female body type. A woman with this non-shape will suffer MASSIVE constraints on her mate choice options. Compared to less celestial women, she will have the least number of men pursuing her, and those who do will be the lowest value men. Her odds of spending many years enduring painful involuntary solitude are very high. Like her male analogue the socially clumsy nerdo, she will likely spend months, perhaps even years, in parched involuntary sexlessness. And any man she does manage to lure into her sticky, bulbous, pitcher plant vagina will be less interested in a longer-term commitment with her than he would with a woman of more human shape.

The Rotund female body type is so bad in contrast with the others that it practically deserves its own graphic. Correction: It needs its own graphic due to screen size limitations. So we boot Violet Blobbybarge into Jupiterian orbit where she belongs, and rank the remaining four female body types in ascending order of attractiveness.


Not nearly as atrociously repulsive as the Rotund, the Apple nonetheless squats lumply below the other three body types. Top heaviness works for linebackers, not women.


The Pear is interesting, because much of her sexual appeal or lack thereof depends on the distribution of her fulcrum fat. If her fat sits grotesquely on her hips like a hoop dress, and her ass juts like a National Geographic native, she will turn off more (white) men than the Apple-shaped girl. If she sports an incipient fupa, even worse. The entire deleterious effect is magnified if her narrow-shouldered upper body sways like a swamp reed atop the mountain of fat below.

But if the Pear’s fat isn’t obtrusive, and it rests gracefully and smoothly on child-birthing hips without too much distortion, the Pear can be quite bangable. Unfortunately, most Pears aren’t this lucky.


I expect this categorization to elicit the most opposition from the penis gallery. Men like curves, and will assume the Pear has more of those boner-inducing curves than the Banana. But that’s not how it always plays out. Bananas have curves that are proportionate to their overall slender body shape. The waist-hip ratio is what counts, not the absolute hip width.

Bananas are your archetypical athletic girls: Tall, slender and built like sex pistons. Bananas are overrepresented among porn starlets, probably because they have the optimal balance of higher testosterone-induced horniness and thin body shapes that arouse male viewers. If the Banana has a narrow waist to complement her lithe hips, and her torso isn’t overdeveloped, she will turn more men’s eyes than the Pear. However if the Banana is tubular, the Pear with pleasing pelvic padding will win more head-swivel contests.

Keep in mind that men with a keen future time orientation who are also seeking relationships will be better at projecting the Banana and the Pear into the future, whereupon they will see with mental clarity what happens to each type of body after ten or twenty years, and the Pear doesn’t come out looking so good under those conditions. The Banana typically holds up better, while the Pear turns into a Weeble.


And here we arrive, at last, to the goddess. My, but she is a tall drink of tumescence. The vast…. VAST… majority of men prefer hourglass-shaped women. Those perfect Playboy measurements — 34/24/34 and mostly unchanged in their boner-popping power since time immemorial — are so desired by men that women with this body type run laps around their sexual market competition.

The Hourglass lady is desired by the most men, pursued by the most high value men, and when pursued is solicited the most frequently by men with offers of long-term commitment. If she is also pretty of face, she has, for all practical purposes, unlimited sexual market options.


There it is. Women would do well to understand and accept the visual acumen with which men make their split-second judgment of women’s bodies. Men are frickin electron microscopes in human form when they’re visually assessing women’s figures. A centimeter here, a millimeter there, can mean the difference for women between suffering the awkward sexual interest of a spazzy beta or the passionate love of a smooth alpha. It can mean the difference between waiting for years for an Alex Pareene to propose in cubic zirconia, or weeks for a God of the Rod to gift wrap a bag of Skittles.

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Animatronic host society leech Bryan Caplan took a break from spreading the ass cheeks of his nation to report on GSS survey data indicating that monogamy remains the norm among Americans.

The problem with sex surveys of this sort — i.e., the kind that ask in no uncertain terms just how slutty (women) or charming (men) you are — is that people lie. They lie to assuage their egos, and they lie to meet social expectations. And lo and behold, there are attenuating studies which discredit to some extent the reported results of sex surveys. This one, for instance, found that:

Men report more permissive sexual attitudes and behavior than do women. This experiment tested whether these differences might result from false accommodation to gender norms (distorted reporting consistent with gender stereotypes). Participants completed questionnaires under three conditions. Sex differences in self‐reported sexual behavior were negligible in a bogus pipeline condition in which participants believed lying could be detected, moderate in an anonymous condition, and greatest in an exposure threat condition in which the experimenter could potentially view participants’ responses. This pattern was clearest for behaviors considered less acceptable for women than men (e.g., masturbation, exposure to hardcore & softcore erotica). Results suggest that some sex differences in self‐reported sexual behavior reflect responses influenced by normative expectations for men and women.

Men overstate their number of partners to a small degree, and women understate their number of partners to a large degree.

Two anti-Hivemind (or pro-Red Pill, if you wish) conclusions can be drawn from this very special insight about human nature:

1. On the subject of sex, women are bigger liars than men.

2. There are more slutty women running around in the world than sexually parched betaboys think.

I’d add that, despite the above GrateFacts, it’s a good bet that lower-N count monogamy is still hanging on as the norm among Eurasian peoples. Well, serial monogamy, at any rate.

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Commenter Rick250 uses a parable to illuminate the aesthetic and practical appeal of the Heartistian ideology of poolsideism.

Theres a certain zen aspect to poolside…

Pursued by a tiger, you scramble off the edge of a 60′ cliff managing to find a couple of vines to hold you from falling. Looking down, you see another tiger hungrily waiting below.
You notice that the vines you hold are slowly being uprooted. Its only a matter of time before you fall, though, you have done, and are doing, everything in your power to find a way out of this.
Beside you, you notice a ripe wild strawberry growing within reach. You pick it and temporarily slip away into a blissful state, thinking it to be as ripe and perfect as a strawberry could taste.

Characters in this parable:

You: A redpill alpha male
Tiger 1: Western society and its decay
Tiger 2: The Hivemind
The strawberry: A beautiful, feminine, sweet woman

The machete you forgot is tied to your back: Teachings, as found here at the Chateau

There is a fatalist inevitability inherent to the poolside philosophy, though in practice one can be poolside as a bright future crests or as a dark age descends.

“But what about your posterity?!”, exclaim the anti-poolside-ists. “Don’t you want to leave them with a chance to live in a civilized homeland?”

I get the impulse. But, thinking about it, when poolside time is up, there’s no wistful looking back at descendants frolicking in the limpid waters you left behind. You are obliterated, you and all your memories, your senses and hopes, to the infinite nothingness. The fortunes of your heirs will only matter to you when you’re alive, and at death the comfort derived from safeguarding your posterity will vanish just as completely as your poolside time.

I suppose it’s a lucky thing for the propagation of civilized humanity that few people think so logically about their mortality. How could this grandest of self-deceptions evolve? It makes one wonder if, perhaps, there is a hidden hand shaping the spirit of man.

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Commenter dirkdiggly unzips in front of a mirror and ‘miringly unfurls this meaty tale of modern romance:

What fun it would be to make a “romcom” depicting a fiery romantic relationship as it actually plays out for the garden-variety CH apprentice…

Boy meets girl at a gathering of mutual friends.
Girl is objectively prettier than the guy, and clearly bored with her life and asteroid belts of hopeful orbiters, also present at the gathering.
Guy behaves outlandishly, or displays bold talent that sets him apart -no fucks given.
Guy negs girl, finishes her drink while she goes to the bathroom to gossip.
Numbers are exchanged. Guy writes hers on a napkin -loses napkin.
She calls after a few days of expectant waiting and overthink.
Guy “forgets” her name, but tells her that he remembers her hairstyle because it’s so common these days.
Girl asks guy on a date.
Sparks fly, fluids are exchanged.
Guy loudly poops immediately post-coitus, bathroom door open. Girl is fascinated.
Guy doesn’t call for a week. Smoke pours from girl’s ears due to hamster wheel tread stripping and transmission fire.
Guy texts “sup”. Girl swoons.
Casual sex ensues for six months. Guy avoids meeting her family.
Guy moves across country. Girl uproots entire life, quits job at Forever21, follows.
Girl arrives to find guy with new girlfriend…”babe I thought we had an understanding”
Credits roll to sounds of wailing/sobbing.

I’m drafting a script now, wonder which studio will jump on this “feel-good hit of the summer” first?

I’ll be setting up an indiegogo for those who feel compelled to donate.

This romantic scenario is far more common than the ones you see in typical rom-coms. But it would bomb at the box office, because women wouldn’t like it. Women don’t like depictions of love and romance that are too honest about the nature of their own sexuality. See, for example, Blue Valentine. Concealed ovulation should be your first clue that women are born masters at the art of self-deception.

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A reader passed along a link to a post from what I believe is a satire website, called ‘The Reductress’. The post title is ‘Nicholas Sparks’ Wife: Romantic Gestures Are Not Orgasms’. It’s funny, if stylistically pedestrian.

“She really was my muse,” Nicholas said of the former lending company account executive, who he proposed to in a thunderstorm but never let try a girl-on-top position.

The humor is accessible because it does say something truthful about the sexes. Women say they love romance, and in certain contexts they do, but grand romantic gestures never did do nothing for their vaginas that a jerkboy attitude and an impudent boner didn’t already do.

Romance is dangerous beta bait. Books and movies have genres dedicated to the proposition that sappy romance wins women’s hearts and gines. I don’t doubt that women sincerely love immersing themselves in romantic escapes, but to extrapolate from that arid swoon a real world wet desire by women for pre-schtup sentimental schlock is an inference error that will cost you more lays than avoiding displays of romance altogether.

Don’t chomp the bait. Romance can’t spark attraction. It can only reinforce love. You will never part a woman’s legs with a love poem. Usually the opposite will happen; your LLoyd Dobler love sonnet performance paying loose tribute to the movie scene that shook your amour to joyful tears in a dark theater will have a decidedly less aphrodisiacal effect on her in the bright amphitheater of humanwave transmission.

Maxim #49: Romance isn’t foreplay. Romance is, at best, seasoning on an established sexual relationship.

Corollary to Maxim #49: A premature romantic gesture will have the opposite of its intended effect on a high SMV woman. Untethered romance is a DLV.

Hey, I’m a romantic just like most men. I’ve given myself over to the mush side on occasion, and it was nearly always a mutually enjoyable experience. The one weird trick I used to ensure mutual enjoyment? I never sapped it up with a girl I hadn’t yet tapped. I learned that lesson early in life. Save your romantic wanderlust for girls accustomed to your lumberthrust. They’ll be much more appreciative than the girls who have a band of betas lavishing them with jizz-stained testimonials of enduring obsession.

Reiterating, this is how women perceive romance:

Post-sex romance = surprise love.
Pre-sex romance = sex-starved ploy.

Naturally, the demanding male logos asks, “Then why, if women don’t tingle for romantic twaddle, do they devour representations of romantic twaddle?”

You’ve got to consider the psychological prestidigitation of the female mind. There are two self-medications being administered here.

One, when a woman melts during a romantic movie, she’s not thinking of Bob the Beta photobooth weirdo wooing her as if she were Amelie in her own little gay Paree. She’s not even thinking of a sexy but strangely asexual alpha man doing that. Instead, she’s metamorphosing the romance porn into relationship victory. A cute girl has little trouble getting sex from a man, but converting that coin of the clam into a long-term investment is exponentially tougher. Male romantic abandon, viewed from this perspective, is cause for a victory dance by a woman who now has evidence she succeeded taming the dude. This female perspective is always tinged with a tacit subconscious understanding that sex was already happening, or destined to happen, somewhere out of immediate sight, and it was therefore the allure of her nonsexual charms that truly won the man over.

Two, women have a queer ability to imagine themselves as the protagonist in rom-coms, even when the protagonist is a man (as they often are). This is a bit of inverse projection by women, as they identify with the lovelorn “beta man” who is desperate to capture the love of the emotionally distant “alpha woman”. The male character’s romantic exertions remind women of the efforts they undergo to win the commitment of the hard-to-get alpha man. In this body swap, women see something of themselves in striver Romeos, especially that something which speaks to a woman’s craving for acknowledgement of her feelings. But of course, what women don’t see is the involuntary sexlessness that typically bedevil beta male characters, because women can’t relate to incel with the ease that they relate to insol.

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