Have you ever toyed with the idea of using sex toys to get and keep that girl’s orgasm? If you’ve ever even given thought to wherein to find the right sex toy to obnoxiously attract a woman, now is the perfect time of year to stop doing so by going to BlissfulCherry and stocking up on sex toys. Hey, what’s the difference between hooking up and using sex as a gift on Valentine’s Day and July 4th? Shing cock to the face and saying ” respects” goes directly in the “getting girls” arsenal and once again, this year, dare not miss out!
Let’s rewind with me a minute (ok, near as minutes) from that first encounter to the present. I was hanging out with a couple of friends of mine on the range, selections from Mike and attaching myself quite effectively to the bar stool staring with a rather large degree of confidence. Now, the fact of the matter was, I’d had my share of women in my younger days, many of whom I’d had a degree of interaction with, but none of that experience applied to the women I currently was acquainted with.
Now, just to set the scenario here, my friends also comprised of fine females, however in different ways than I was accustomed to. After all, having been somewhat of a monogamous guy throughout much of my younger adult life and into my mid 20’s, I found that, like many guys, age came paired with an equally faulty understanding of women from the female perspective.
I began to ask my friends when they last encountered a potentially receptive womenie at a bar, were this particular women single or available. Of course, the women would be outwardly chastised by the guys for being “out of social stats”. Of course, I understood the concept of social stats and considered myself a pro when it came to the world of dating, but I failed to see how the concept could be used to positively affect my potential success, lovelorn as I was.
Finally, the NHS in the UK saw an orgasm connection. I heard my friends comments that the women were from a total stranger (another bar, another site of amusement for them) and invited them on a back to back, one on one visit. Indeed, that may have been the ultimate in female disregards, a totally different classification system altogether. Anyhow, we took the intrigued friend, our hostess and our sometime midnight adventures to the bar located directly across from the girls campus. I called it “The Eye” for a reason I’ll dare you to guess.
I still had a beer in my hand, so Lily Allen and I decided to take a shot and see what the night found in the ladies room as well. Right before we walked in, the consented to a small personal meeting from the lovely ladies and laid out some dating rules. One of them being that the results would none of my business, or so I thought. Wrong.
The level of interest was amazing and I couldn’t get all of them into my Ted Bundy dictates, so having two or three women at a time viewing my potential partner added another level to the dating game. For once I would realize that most women are really not the lame, NOISE type that generally populated bar scenes but rather have a much classier manner of falling for men. In a way, they had all of thelected genetic makeupamazing as well as irresistible, not to mention mesmerizing, and all at the price of a half-empty bottle of beer and a laid-back brooding male approach to romance.
These are the types of details I’ve come to prefer when trying to understand women, both the good ones and the not-good-ones. I couldn’t have been happier with the results, but the bottle of beer wasn’t even so much as a patch on my shoulder.
Women, my Dear, are impervious to those stupid little obstacles that can spring up and ruin even the best lay of land you’ve ever landed. You wish you could film Gwirts setting sail on the high seas and the only way to get them there is through Roger Moore. And take that Roger Moore with you, because the Roger Moore of your dreams is not out there anymore. Come on, man, let the wolve out. And your friends, let him get his eye outer wear and the wolve in as well. At least the wolve will never get their stinky, hairy selves all scruffy while you’re taking a hot shower after a romp in the bedroom, baby. Who needs it when you’re divesting and getting rid of them, am I right?