Here is a personal account of my early travails with the coochie monster (aka, wo-man).
As a prelude...
I remember when I first started getting some.
I'd see hot girls on the street and say to myself, "Wassup biatch! Yeah, you can fvck off, I just got me some this morning."
What was once a paralyzing power became a joke of sorts.
Anyhow, on to the stages...
Pre-sex, or The Glacial Blue-Balls Stage
Everything with breasts and an ass that moved was an object of lust. I was frustrated, jealous of friends that were getting some, and angry at the women that wouldn't cave to my subliminal commands to drop their shorts and let ol' Flogger join the club. Oh, the sweet, pulse-raising summer thighs of girls that have yet to pack on the pounds. {takes a moment}
In due time, though, I joined.
Sex, or The All That Work for That?! Stage
Actually, it wasn't much work. I was a freshman in college ("at university" for our foreign friends). I had played guitar on stage in a drunken haze, long after the crappy band had left. It was actually on a porch in the backyard of what was probably a frat house. (I never went back.) The kegs were low, and only some stragglers were milling about. April, the b!tch who shall not remain anonymous, slept with me while we were both half-conscious. I don't remember it so vividly, but I did remember being surprised that her cooch was so small. Genitals are just all-engrossing when you're fantasizing.
Notice I said "small" and not "tight." April is/was a dumb slvt, and soon transferred. Shortly afterward, I met girl # 2 while walking around the campus.
Sex is good. The stimulation, though, is typically not nearly as strong as what you get from your hand, nor as predictable and controllable, but it is indeed good. It's also very wet. That's part of the reason why it's less intense: there's very little friction.
It can also be a pain to go from the point where you're rearing to jump her pants to the point where she's (literally) soaking her panties. Girls don't go from 0 to 60 in 4 seconds, unlike us.
As I mentioned above, once I started getting some, I felt like I had escaped the confines of "T 'n' A Penitentiary" and could mentally scoff at the hot pieces of arse that I passed in public. This feeling hit the first morning after and continued for at least a few months.
Discovery of the First Paradox
That feeling of empowerment was soon joined by the painful realization that by sticking with one girl (#2), I was, ironically, less able to get with the hot girls I kept running into.
"Oh! The double-edged sword of an actual relationship!"
If you want reliable sex on a daily basis, you must forfeit your right to pursue it elsewhere.
Thankfully, I was in college and immature.
#2 was (much to my pleasant surprise) a virgin. So once she loosened up, she was up for a variety of "new experiences." There was dormroom sex, car sex, shower sex, quickies in a study carrel, etc. In case you're wondering, none of it was as good as we thought it might be; and I've repeated little of it since. The bed is the best place.
Discovery of the Second Paradox
It turns out -- and this should come as no surprise unless you're new here -- the way you act when you actually have a grilfriend is exactly the way you should act when you don't have a girlfriend.
The discovery of that leads to...
Flogger Fun, or Oh, I Thought We Were On a Break
We really were on a break. But it turns out women don't actually mean what they say (it's true). It's more like half the time they forget the switch is on that connects their thoughts to their mouths.
Anyway, for a guy, not thinking (either because it's impaired, or you're just acting on the spur of the moment) coincidentally convinces women that you have lots of confidence.
#3 was all about going down, and I took to her like a cat to tuna.
Since #3, I've made it a point to always plan to satisfy a woman first. You not only come across as more desirable, but your efforts have the added effect of thoroughly soaking the slide, so to speak. As soon as she gets off, air traffic control removes all restrictions to land.
And What #3 Taught Me
I enjoyed, um, pleasing her so much, and she initiated sex so much, that it became hard to flip roles and switch from the private to the lieutenant in bed.
Women need men, always. Nevermind how aggressive they are.
Since 1-3 happened with little effort on my part, I still faltered plenty later on. It was really just snowballing luck that landed me those first few experiences. But my initial fear of women disappeared long ago. It turns out, we could kick their a$$ if we wanted to, and even though we don't, deep down inside they know we could. So when you stand your ground as an assertive, responsible man, they listen, and they respect your power and masculinity (and they also get turned on).
Even if you've got a pretty good handle on women, keeping them from constantly exploding like emotional hand-grenades requires great diligence. Unlike your car, though, you can't park them in a garage until your frustration has evaporated.
Sex will change your life. But not because you enter a world of untold carnal pleasures. Rather, you enter a world where you finally have to deal with that chunk of matter that's attached to the attractive parts.
Ah, but I love women.
As a prelude...
I remember when I first started getting some.
I'd see hot girls on the street and say to myself, "Wassup biatch! Yeah, you can fvck off, I just got me some this morning."
What was once a paralyzing power became a joke of sorts.
Anyhow, on to the stages...
Pre-sex, or The Glacial Blue-Balls Stage
Everything with breasts and an ass that moved was an object of lust. I was frustrated, jealous of friends that were getting some, and angry at the women that wouldn't cave to my subliminal commands to drop their shorts and let ol' Flogger join the club. Oh, the sweet, pulse-raising summer thighs of girls that have yet to pack on the pounds. {takes a moment}
In due time, though, I joined.
Sex, or The All That Work for That?! Stage
Actually, it wasn't much work. I was a freshman in college ("at university" for our foreign friends). I had played guitar on stage in a drunken haze, long after the crappy band had left. It was actually on a porch in the backyard of what was probably a frat house. (I never went back.) The kegs were low, and only some stragglers were milling about. April, the b!tch who shall not remain anonymous, slept with me while we were both half-conscious. I don't remember it so vividly, but I did remember being surprised that her cooch was so small. Genitals are just all-engrossing when you're fantasizing.
Notice I said "small" and not "tight." April is/was a dumb slvt, and soon transferred. Shortly afterward, I met girl # 2 while walking around the campus.
Sex is good. The stimulation, though, is typically not nearly as strong as what you get from your hand, nor as predictable and controllable, but it is indeed good. It's also very wet. That's part of the reason why it's less intense: there's very little friction.
It can also be a pain to go from the point where you're rearing to jump her pants to the point where she's (literally) soaking her panties. Girls don't go from 0 to 60 in 4 seconds, unlike us.
As I mentioned above, once I started getting some, I felt like I had escaped the confines of "T 'n' A Penitentiary" and could mentally scoff at the hot pieces of arse that I passed in public. This feeling hit the first morning after and continued for at least a few months.
Discovery of the First Paradox
That feeling of empowerment was soon joined by the painful realization that by sticking with one girl (#2), I was, ironically, less able to get with the hot girls I kept running into.
"Oh! The double-edged sword of an actual relationship!"
If you want reliable sex on a daily basis, you must forfeit your right to pursue it elsewhere.
Thankfully, I was in college and immature.
#2 was (much to my pleasant surprise) a virgin. So once she loosened up, she was up for a variety of "new experiences." There was dormroom sex, car sex, shower sex, quickies in a study carrel, etc. In case you're wondering, none of it was as good as we thought it might be; and I've repeated little of it since. The bed is the best place.
Discovery of the Second Paradox
It turns out -- and this should come as no surprise unless you're new here -- the way you act when you actually have a grilfriend is exactly the way you should act when you don't have a girlfriend.
The discovery of that leads to...
Flogger Fun, or Oh, I Thought We Were On a Break
We really were on a break. But it turns out women don't actually mean what they say (it's true). It's more like half the time they forget the switch is on that connects their thoughts to their mouths.
Anyway, for a guy, not thinking (either because it's impaired, or you're just acting on the spur of the moment) coincidentally convinces women that you have lots of confidence.
#3 was all about going down, and I took to her like a cat to tuna.
Since #3, I've made it a point to always plan to satisfy a woman first. You not only come across as more desirable, but your efforts have the added effect of thoroughly soaking the slide, so to speak. As soon as she gets off, air traffic control removes all restrictions to land.
And What #3 Taught Me
I enjoyed, um, pleasing her so much, and she initiated sex so much, that it became hard to flip roles and switch from the private to the lieutenant in bed.
Women need men, always. Nevermind how aggressive they are.
Since 1-3 happened with little effort on my part, I still faltered plenty later on. It was really just snowballing luck that landed me those first few experiences. But my initial fear of women disappeared long ago. It turns out, we could kick their a$$ if we wanted to, and even though we don't, deep down inside they know we could. So when you stand your ground as an assertive, responsible man, they listen, and they respect your power and masculinity (and they also get turned on
).Even if you've got a pretty good handle on women, keeping them from constantly exploding like emotional hand-grenades requires great diligence. Unlike your car, though, you can't park them in a garage until your frustration has evaporated.
Sex will change your life. But not because you enter a world of untold carnal pleasures. Rather, you enter a world where you finally have to deal with that chunk of matter that's attached to the attractive parts.
Ah, but I love women.
