Sex Talk

Sex talk ranks up there with full body massages, cunnilingus, and 5,000 thread count bed sheets as an aphrodisiac for women. If you have a woman already into you through your game and personal attributes, the deft deployment of sex talk will boost her attraction for you into the stratosphere. A nimble tongue is like mental lube to a woman, opening her up for the physical act to follow. Properly delivered lines of descriptive eroticism whispered into her ear can turn her into a torrid gushing avalanche of desire.

The degree of difference between what wordplay stimulation will do to a woman’s sexual arousal and a man’s couldn’t be more stark. While men enjoy a marginal increase in pleasure listening to a woman moan and talk dirty during sex, women become absolutely apoplectic with lust when you describe the sexual tension in explicit detail. You can literally make a woman’s neck hair stand on end by telling her what you are about to do to her. (Note: If she is a pretentious artsy chick who never misses a First Friday at the R Street art galleries and takes great pains to display the right magazines on her coffee table, the more multisyllable and French words you will have to use. Brush up on your euphemisms. Smart chicks dig euphemisms.)

Of course, most men don’t do this because 1) it’s time away from actual fucking, 2) it seems kinda gay, and 3) they are not as verbally oriented as women and therefore don’t see the point in it. But catering to a woman’s interests doesn’t always have to entail sacrifice; sometimes it is a source of power. Once you understand that women respond wildly to a small investment of your time and effort arousing her with erotic commentary, you will use this to your advantage to have her hooked on you like a drug.

Speaking of getting a woman addicted to you, the Big Three things you can do in the bedroom, in order of effectiveness, that will have her thinking of you while stroking the zucchini in the supermarket are:

1. Squirting orgasms. This is the holy grail of sexual satisfaction. Learn to bring a woman to leg-trembling ecstasy by making her ejaculate with your fingers and she will cling to you like a baby chimpanzee on its mother’s back.
2. Regular orgasms. Not as nerve-frying or psychologically-imprinting as the squirting variety, but still effective, because if the studies are to be believed the majority of women don’t experience them with their men.
3. Sex Talk. Start reading some romance novels and incorporate the purple prose into your end game seduction routine.

Sex talk doesn’t have to be long-winded. What’s important is the vivid detail in what you say and the tone of voice you use to say it. Try to be as thorough in your erotic monologues as possible. Say it with a low, slow, gravelly voice very close to her left ear. Breathe heavily so that she feels the hot air on her skin. Here is an example of something I said to a girl which verbally stimulated her during a moment of intimacy:

How does it feel thinking about my hand slowly sliding down your belly, over the thatch of your pubic mound, and prying apart your cleft to expose your hot, wet, crimson lips waiting to be violently penetrated…

She gasped and said “Wow, that’s kind of a turn-on!”. Her wetness confirmed her words.

As mentioned above, for pretentious yuppie chicks you will want to substitute euphemisms for crass four letter words, especially if you are banging an art student or a DJ groupie. This makes whatever you say sound “literary”. For example, instead of saying this:

I’m gonna fuck your pussy with my rock hard cock and cum all over your face.

Say this:

I’m gonna pierce your womanhood with my throbbing turgid essence and unleash torrents of hot, sticky, demon seed all over your face.

Crass four letter words and painful hair-pulling are acceptable if you’re fucking a lawyer. In fact, they’re required.  

PS: this was a meta-post for the ladies.

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A Scandal And A Link

Standing in the last minute Valentine’s Day checkout line at the supermarket with twenty other men carrying roses, cards and chocolates, I paid for my one economy sized bottle of grape seed massage oil. They eyed my purchase curiously.

Suckers.

***

Behold the world’s funniest (and most bitingly insightful) new blog:

http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/

If you are a blue state status whore, you will get uncomfortable reading this blog.

I agree 100% with the #56 Lawyers entry.

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32 Vs. 21

I can draw a precise comparison of the sex appeal in the bedroom between a 32 year old woman and a 21 year old woman because I’ve had the opportunity to sleep with both within two weeks of each other. This means my memory of how they compare is strong. The average guy who has moved onto banging 30+ year old women has not slept with a 21 year old since his college days, and so won’t remember in lucid detail just how much better a younger girl’s body looks and feels naked.

This is why you should always take older men’s opinions of the sexual appeal of older women with a grain of salt; they have weaker memories of the superiority of their long-ago conquests, and their fragile egos oblige them to proclaim endless paeans to the wonders of the older woman.

Following is a side-by-side comparison of sex between a 32 year old woman and a 21 year old woman. Any differences between the two are age-related only, as neither one exercised regularly and both looked attractive fully clothed.

21 year old

Visual – When she took off her clothes my hard on got harder. There is nothing like a flawless woman’s body. No creases, no wrinkles, no cellulite. All the curves flowed gracefully without interruption by pockets of fat or love handles. The area where the ass cheeks meet the back of the legs – usually the first place to betray the droopiness of aging – was smooth. I wanted to stare at her naked body all day long.

Feel – Despite never having lifted a weight in her life, her flesh was firm, resilient, and supple. Her muscle tone was taut and gravity-defying. Her skin like silk ribbons. Her labia possessed the springiness of a marine’s cot. My hard on felt like it was bursting out of its skin wrapper.

Smell – A young woman is drenched in estrogen and these vapors send waves of pleasure through the male brain as they are inhaled. Guys will know what I’m talking about when I describe the sensation of getting a lap dance from an especially beautiful and fertile young girl and her natural aroma emanating from her pores grips you in sudden arousal. The smell of youthful femininity is more intoxicating than the sweetest rose.

Experience – In this age of ubiquitous porn, bedroom skills aren’t an issue. Every girl has seen the sex act by the time she has graduated high school. In my opinion, experience is highly overrated anyhow. It’s the plaintive ego-salving of older women who want to believe experience can make up for lost looks. Of all the girls I’ve slept with, I can think of only one off the top of my head who remotely resembled a “dead fish” in the sack. If the girl is cute and she likes you, she’ll gyrate her hips, return your thrusts, moan, wrap her legs, and run her hands up and down your back, which is really all she needs to do to qualify as an acceptable lay. Any cradling of your balls just before you jizz is bonus points. It’s not rocket science.

32 year old

Visual – When she took off her clothes the best I could muster was a chubby. It’s not that she was fat; in fact, she was the same weight and height of the 21 year old. The devil is in the details. The subtle age-related flaws in her body combined to produce an overall effect of fading femininity. There were creases and dimples in places there shouldn’t have been. A small pouch had begun to develop in her lower abdomen. The bottom of her tits pressed against her chest. Unlike the 21 year old, I could not get hard just looking at this woman. Squinting helped.

Feel – One word: squishy. If I had tried to bounce a quarter off this woman’s body, it would have sunk into her spongy flesh. There is nothing more… deflating… than squeezing a chunk of ass meat only to pull away with folds of loose skin in your hand. Even her pussy looked older; the lips more floppy and bedraggled, the color a washed-out hue. Since visual stimulation and the feel of her body were not working to arouse me, I had to mentally concentrate very hard on the tip of my dick building friction with her vaginal wall in order to cum. This is why you will see older women in porn work the penis like a piston with their mouths and hands – hard, firm, and unrelenting tactile stimulation is the only way they can get a guy off.

Smell – Whatever alluring scent a young women has is gone by the time she hits her 30s, to be replaced by some rather astringent odors. The faint whiff of baby powder is missing from the older woman’s skin.

Experience – There can be such a thing as too much experience. Nothing is a bigger turn-off than a woman giving you directions in bed on how to please her sexually. Because she has learned over the years which positions and movements bring her to orgasm reliably, she refuses to deviate from her gameplan, and has closed herself off to spontaneous sexual expression.

Advice from my heart:
To all 30+ year old women – If you want to stay in the game and compete with the younger competition, lift weights regularly and stop directing the action during sex like you were Spielberg’s protege. This will give you a fighting chance against out-of-shape 21 year olds.

Moral of this post:
What a horrible cruel joke of the universe is the brief window of a woman’s beauty. Proof, as if any was needed, that god does not exist.

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When Her Frigidness Is Not A Warning Sign

In relation to yesterday’s post, there are three main reasons why a girl would withhold sex from her bf/husband. Two of these reasons signal deep trouble with the health of the relationship.

1. she’s trying to manipulate him with vagina power.
2. she’s lost attraction for him.
3. she’s genuinely not in the mood due to sickness or injury.

If you suspect #1 is happening to you, you need to make a last stand for your manhood. No wavering. Any buckling on your part and you have opened a Clamdora’s Box of perpetual bartering for her sex in exchange for your obeisance. Live free or be domesticated.

If #2 is the reason (being observant will help you notice this before it’s too late), then either attempt to outmaneuver her and restrengthen her attraction for you, or bail before your pride is in tatters. Writing her love poems is not an effective counterattack.

Only #3 can be safely taken at face value. But make sure she’s being sincere. “Headaches” don’t count. In fact, orgasms have been shown to alleviate a woman’s headache. If she pulls the headache routine on you, then every time she asks you a favor you can do the same.

“Can you help me fold laundry?”

“Not tonight honey, I have a headache.”

The only time you can excuse her for not servicing your manly needs is when she’s injured or violently ill. Emphasis on “violently”. Projectile vomiting is a legitimate excuse from sex duty. So is chemotherapy. And third trimester pregnancy. (OK, that last one was really an excuse for men.) Hip surgery absolves her of sex, but not blowjobs. The flu… no, unless it’s Asian bird flu. Car accident? Only if the airbag deployed. If she’s feeling self-conscious about “feminine odors” tell her your nose is stuffed up and do her with your head positioned as far away as possible from her privates.

Like an employer gives you sick days, have a sick leave plan for the girl you’re dating. Two days per year should suffice. There’s no accrual rate on this plan. She either uses them or loses them at the end of each year. If she uses more than two days per year you have the right to terminate the relationship contract for poor job performance.

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Serial Seducer

I have found my twin ego – platonic soulmate – in New York City. He’s a self-proclaimed serial seducer who has just outed himself on national TV. Despite the anti-romance subversion of his message, his fifteen minutes of fame will guarantee a doubling of his current notch count. His steely-eyed pursuit of the pussy earns him my respect.

“Either you acknowledge reality and use it to your benefit, or it will automatically work against you.”
– Robert Ringer

He has written a short e-book outlining his pickup philosophy and field tactics. Standard fare for those of us in the know, but a wider audience would probably find his advice scandalous. I noticed a lot of what he writes parallels my experiences in the field. For instance, he agrees with my assessment of the best night of the week to go out for picking up chicks:

My schedule is drinks with girls Sunday night through Wednesday, and often Friday as well because it’s an early night because I work at 8:30 on Saturday morning. Thursdays, perhaps the best night of the week to go out, I usually go “window shopping” with a buddy, a wingman. We usually go out to check out the hot scenes and look at the girlies all done-up. We may meet a couple girls, even get digits or get laid, but the bulk of my work is not accomplished here.

He also agrees with me on the value of building intrigue in a woman by not talking too much when you first meet her:

The less than one-minute engagement works for a number of reasons. First off all, it prevents the guy from doing anything stupid or awkward, or revealing too much. A nervous guy can torpedo a promising situation by talking too much and turning the girl off, or freaking her out, perhaps by mentioning he lives at home with his folks, or something like that. The less talking you do, the better. Women, as well as men, like the fantasy or “romance” of meeting “that guy”, and since almost no guy is ever going to live-up to some bullshit Prince Charming archetype (who wants to, anyhow) at least prolong the fantasy for your benefit. This leads to the second reason the one-minute engagement works: it maintains the intrigue. “Who was that dashing stranger I just met in the rain?” she thinks as you walk off with your raincoat trailing and your umbrella extended. As they are reeling from the encounter, trying to process what just happened and remember the fine details of what you said, and how you looked, and just how you stood, you’re already gone, not there to fuck it up. They’re hooked. Their mind is already working on you.

Luck favors the laconic. Until you’ve had sex with a woman, it’s my experience that less talking is better. Women tend to be better talkers and can intuit a tremendous amount from some guy who is yapping his gums off. Keep things unspoken, or refuse to divulge stuff; above all, keep it playful, flirty and mildly combative. The French have a word for it – badinage – which means playful, verbal banter.

Keep in mind that this guy is a Harvard grad, so it’s not stupidity that necessitates his economy of words.

I was not surprised to see he’s a big fan of text messaging, like I am, which flies in the face of some of the conventional wisdom that texting is beta:

It is the era of the text message, and men all over the world should be thanking their lucky stars. Not only is this the most effective way to control the conversation and avoid missteps, but you can now reach a larger audience. As my friend Nathan says, “Text messaging has got to be the worst thing that has happened to women in a long time.” It removes that old filter that used to prevent all types of guys from getting laid, something we call “Women’s Intuition”. You know what I’m talking about. You leave a pleasant voicemail on some chic’s phone after meeting her, but you ramble a bit and the tone of your voice becomes increasingly less confident and unsure of itself. You hang up, dissatisfied with the call. It’s the Swingers dilemma – do you call back, etc. (Never call back, by the way). She senses your nervousness, gets turned off, and deletes your number.

Getting little text messages via phone gets them excited in the way a little girl gets excited about a letter from Daddy when he’s away. There is something more fun or romantic, and mysterious about texting, I don’t know. Plus you can make outrageous propositions that you could never deliver with aplomb over the phone, much less in person.

From the video, Janka is a good-looking guy, and that, coupled with the power of dropping the H-bomb on dates, probably gives him a leg up over the average schmo. However, he says his success rate with women only skyrocketed after he learned game — or what he calls “having fun and maintaining my integrity as a man” — which is really just another way to describe the heart of game. This, too, comports with my personal experience. No matter how much objective value a man brings to the dating table, if he doesn’t have a grasp of female psychology and how to handle it his interactions with women will feel like a grind — cajoling, compromising, begging, pushing, pleading, pursuing — just to get a taste of pussy.

Reading further into Janka’s e-book, it turns out he makes little money as an SAT tutor and lives in a glorified closet in Manhattan. In NYC, this is enough to negate his advantage in looks and educational credentials. So clearly game is his biggest asset.

In a related article, a frigid man-hating bitch psychiatrist offers the following helpful advice to a 41 year old man who loves making love with women and being happy as a man:

For your own sake and for the sake of everyone else unfortunate enough to have their lives intersect with yours, you need help. If you don’t stop this behavior, you will likely contract a disease, get yourself arrested or enrage someone so much that you are harmed. If you want to try living a normal life — something beyond a life governed by sexual addiction — you need treatment, either individual treatment or group treatment.

Yes, did you get that? If you are a man who is not afraid to be a man and likes sex with a variety of women you need professional help. I wonder if I counseled women who were addicted to commitment from the men they dated that they should seek treatment for their conditions how they would take it? Offended, I’m guessing. And if the women I counseled complained that they can’t help themselves, I will say “You have free will, right?”

Older women on the precipice of sexual extinction – like this wretched psychiatrist – especially loathe men who are able to exercise their options in the sexual market because these men, through their actions seducing multitudes of women, remind them of their rapidly diminishing market value and interchangeability. A free man who can get pussy when he wants undermines the greatest source of women’s power. To the keepers of polite society, it cannot stand, so men who are able to satisfy their sex drives must be demonized and declared unfit for normal life.

I am wishing this desiccated cunt psychiatrist labial cancer with my mind.

In other news, Chelsea Clinton is still dog ugly. I predict she will have her first… and only… child at the tender age of 36. The Bush twins, meanwhile, will be very fertile.

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Litmus Test

It’s easy for me to tell when I really like a girl, and it has nothing to do with banging her.  Banging just means the girl has met my minimum attractiveness threshold, but only those who far exceed it will be worth an extended edition of my time, energy, and resources.  I know that the things I do for a girl and the way I behave or feel when I’m in her company change depending on how attracted I am to her.

If I go down on a girl on the first night, she is in the upper tier of girls I bang.  The hungrier and more voraciously I attack her genitalia with my mouth, the more I like her.  Looking back on the girls I fell in love with, one commonality they all shared was my reckless disregard for personal hygiene and unpleasant odors when I buried my face deep into the folds of their furrows.  I think I orally devoured the vagina of one girl for half an hour before I even penetrated her.  To me, that is the equivalent of getting on bended knee and slipping a 6-month salary rock on her finger.

If I envision spending the rest of my life with her I will stick my nose into the canal and lustfully inhale her bouquet of womanhood, hardly noticing the pube floss or pussy juice mustache when I come up for air.

Other things I find myself doing with a girl I like a lot:

Cook her dinner.  (This is a big deal since I don’t even cook for myself.)

Write her emails longer than two sentences and properly punctuated.

Paint her.

Photograph her.  (B&W only.  Try this sometime, it is a huge turn-on for women to be instructed how to pose for the camera.)

Get nervous around her.  (Trust me, after many years in the field you will begin to miss the adrenaline rush of nervousness.)

Steal flowers from the neighbor’s garden for her.

Do a version of this.

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Sex Machine

I strongly suspect there is a correlation between a woman’s body type and her preferred method of lovemaking.

Narrow hips + muscular upper body + high and tight ass + abs + dark forearm hair = Fucks like a man.

built to be on top with a riding crop

Curvy hips + baby fat + wide and plump ass + delicate upper body + small belly pouch = Makes love.

oxytocin factory

The farther a woman is from the ideal feminine, the more likely she will be to fuck like a sex machine, all pistons and friction.  She will be the type of girl who is not as emotionally hollowed by bed-hopping.

The closer a woman gets to the superfeminine in body shape, facial features, and temperament, the more submissive and tender will be her lovemaking.  For her, the culmination of the act is not in orgasm but in the bonding and the joy of knowing she is pleasing her lover.  Expect her legs to wrap around you during sex in a subconscious display of possession. 

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