- Joined
- Dec 7, 2019
- Messages
- 240
===2/13/2021, 2:54 PM – Reflection #1
I’ve just realized something very interesting.
Have you ever noticed how amazing it is that we can be sitting here, reading these words, and these words can carry our minds to somewhere entirely different?
For example, I’m sitting here. With my hands deciding what pushes on the keyboard will come next. And then as my fingers go tap tap tap... suddenly I find where my mind is.
It’s back at last Sunday morning, the 7th. Around 9:00 AM. Let’s go there.
This is a vivid moment. A moment when ALL of my senses are activated.
No, not activated. Renewed.
I’ve learned that this is what happens after you have sex.
The world feels both tiny and massive in this moment. Also, I'm currently making out with a hot girl that I just banged.
My feet are just steps away from the exit of the dormitory, an exit of which is also an entry into an expansive world where limitless possibilities await.
And furthermore, two words cross my electrified mind: Witch 15.
So I will soon muster up the fibers of my body to retract back to the body of my own, but only after one last feverish swim across the ocean of her body, from the softness of her bounteous derrière to the headlands of her spine to the coastline of her sparkling face. My hands rest in these waters, and I soak in the warmth of her hazel gaze.
She doesn’t want me to leave quite yet. She wants to kiss more.
A kiss on the forehead. No more words except goodbye. I anchor away without turning back, back into the world I go.
One foot out the door into the cold, then two, then three.
My mind is still on her, feeling her eyes on me still.
The feeling is so intense, in fact, that I almost walk directly into an innocent-looking chap who clearly observed our liminality in some combination of awe, jealousy, and disgust.
I know the look on his face, in his eyes, behind his mask.
Because that used to be me.
===2/13, 5:39 PM – Reliving The Set-Up
How it happened. What happened before this particular morning hour.
I will let you know.
It began how it began, over on the night of January 29th.
A crazy night among the wildest in the Lofty records. I was out and about, approaching on the nighttime streets as I’ve done in these COVID times. My weekend strategy as of late has been to intercept the party-hoppers on and around my college campus because this is where most of the activity lies given the circumstances. While the night was capped by a 3:00 AM tumble in the shrubs - a near-lay – with a hot 18-year-old Cluster B who lost her purse, something rather interesting happened in the hours before. And out of all of the things during this time, it seemed the most tame, the most unlikely to produce a sexual result.
Earlier that night, I was punched by a heavily inebriated girl wearing daisy-dukes, befriended an equally inebriated guy, am approached by a girl who takes a strong interest in my hairband, become baffled when the drunk guy chases her off, try to re-hook the girl, and attempt to go to a party with the drunk guy who I had just ditched for the girl.
An uproarious series of events.
What almost immediately followed was a spur-of-the-moment two set. As I returned to one of my favorite post-up locations to regroup, a smallish blonde wearing a white corset-looking top approaches me with open arms. In my journal, I call this girl HBThorn. Her friend is dramatically hugging a friend goodbye. Now she is pretending to the same to me. A little peculiar behavior but it made sense in the spontaneity of the moment.
Of course, I don’t turn down a free hug! I’ll include the original telling of this event in the spoiler below.
In summary, I hook her. Immerse her. Join the walk back to their dormitory. I’m attempting to isolate her for the SNL. But I never completely breach her will given the pressure of the friend and their ensuing plans.
HBThorn then tries to number close me, although I reject because I want to fuck her right then and there. However, she must have taken this as a rejection. So she whips out her phone and shoves an Instagram page in my face. It’s the tantalizing page of her sorority sister. On this bright screen, I see a well-featured, hot brunette who is more attractive than the more cute HBThorn.
And HBThorn pleads for permission to give me the number of her friend. An interesting dynamic. Social frame resulting from a strong impression?
If she can’t have this mysterious stranger, perhaps her hotter friend could. Maybe that would mean I’d also be closely available in the future…
Since HBThorn’s friend is very attractive, I decide to play along. The number of this girl, who I call HBMarina, is excitedly sent to my phone. Ping.
I don’t expect much from this exchange. But might as well give it a go. I politely inquire for HBThorn to tell HBMarina about the impending text. To which she enthusiastically sends a Snap message to HBMarina about how she met a cute guy named Lofty…
We then part ways. Not long after that I’m in another girl’s mouth, rolling around the foliage. But when I wake up the next day, I remember to send an icebreaker text to HBMarina not really expecting a response.
In reality, we set sail.
===1/30 – 2/6 Texting with HBMarina
If you followed my journal in the fall, you’ll know that my texting is rather, um, raw.
I lost tons of leads from this. Mostly every girl I number closed – so many that I decided to pretty much stop number closing and go for the SDL/SNL entirely. Still, I dedicated time during my winter break to improve my text game. Many thanks to @fog and Velasco for providing positive direction in this matter. Also what has really helped me is an insightful suggestion from @Bacchus, who says to simply envision her response before hitting send. Therefore taking full advantage of the fact that at least texting provides you with the time to think and compose.
Anyway, I feel like my texting has become a bit better. It remains quite rough, even poor. But not as skin-and-bones as before. Gives a little chance, at least.
It helps me compose this icebreaker text.
Why, yes!
Social frame.
Also picking up clever tactics from a number of thoughtful text guides on the forums, I try to concoct something engaging, immersive, and SOT-charged. Featuring the hint of plausible deniability.
I imagine her suggestion to “do it during the day” is essentially a manifestation of ASD. Because although the plausible deniability was set, it’s probably difficult to overcome the inherent sexual premise of a nighttime meet-up with a recommended beau.
Or safety concerns. That too.
Anyway, I think that I’ve mostly messed things up at this point. A text doesn’t come from her until Wednesday, which honestly surprised me again.
At this high point, I do not respond even though I’m still awake.
Instead, I mull this situation over in a journal post. As usual, this fantastic community is here to help. My friend @fog makes a few astute observations and provides a suggestion for a new, improved texting direction.
After deliberation, I went with @fog's second recommendation as I still recognize my lack of experience with a fully conversational texting style. With a naughty grin on my face, I send the text off to pull this rope back in my direction.
At this point, I make note of the logistics that still must be addressed.
But not so quick, you little Casanova, you.
What happens next is a little expected. There’s not a peep from her even into the midnight hour. Well, we’ve come this far, haven’t we? Might as well give it a shot. Oh, and it’s raining pretty heavily now.
I am definitely being discussed in the sorority group chat right now. Seems like they’re talking it over thoroughly.
The levee gives in eventually. Probably the social frame and encouraging her to not possibly drunk-drive over to my place – alone – in the pouring rain. Also, she’s not going to be tired. She texted me at 3:15 AM on a Thursday morning. That tiredness isn’t real. She’s good, just have to work past those objections.
===2/7, 2:50 AM – Meeting HBMarina
Quick as a cheetah, I call an Uber and pack a drawstring bag with an umbrella, Bluetooth speaker, fruit snacks, and condoms.
My outfit of choice is a green bomber jacket, a white long-sleeved undershirt, bleached slim-fitting jeans, and suede black PUMA sneakers that have light blue detailing. Topped off by a silver necklace with a wave-like pendant, and a silver bracelet on my left wrist. These were additions recommended by @Bismarck in what feels like such a long time ago, but it really wasn't. These items have now become very special to me.
Lastly, we swipe in a hairband to acquiesce the locks.
On the way there, I notice a couple things. First off, the rain has stopped. Second, the destination is quite familiar.
As the Uber pulls up to the front door of the dormitory, I look about 200 feet to my right. Some emotions build up. It’s the place where I was wrongfully detained by dumb police in August. That was a rainy day, too. I was also wearing the same white shirt. But the person wearing the shirt is much different.
For example, well, where to start?
I am who I am writing this and I was who I was writing that. The difference is palpable.
Anyway, I see both the excitement and irony in this situation. I hop out of the Uber and post-up against a cold, brick wall inside the dorm pavilion.
No. Well, I don’t think so, personally. This is a situation borne out of cold approach. She’s a hot girl who’s excited to see me at 3:00 AM when the only information she has are a referral and some text messages. All apparently because of the impression I made during that two-set and our text conversation. Guess I’m safe and intriguing now.
Moreover, the plausable deniablility of watching the sunrise and listening to music was set. Frames were set. Not a perfect performance from me, but it got the job done. At least so far. Still work to do, I think. But I do know that the door is wide-open.
The door for sex, that is. The door of the dorm remains closed for the next 7 minutes.
While waiting, I do a few breathing exercises. Also, I have a spur-of-the-moment inspiration to make a quick list of topics that I want to have fresh in my memory. I jot them down in the Notes app on my phone.
Finally, the text we’ve been waiting for.
Soon, I feel a gaze through the glass doors. Fluent motion in the periphery. Slowly, I look up with a devilish grin.
What I see.
What I see first is the luxuriant ombré hair, long in length, lavishly outlining her body all the way to the small of her back, clearly a result of a very recent trip to the salon.
Her expansive, tailored hair provides a swanky look to her shorter frame. An athletically-slim frame that has been blessed with tantalizing features.
Swanky black-and-white striped pants hug every inch of her legs. That booty. Plush.
Craftily tucked in at the hips is an oversized, faded-blue top. The outline of her perky breasts excites me, especially when they bounce with every step she takes.
The expression. Sweet-faced. Daddy’s girl turned bad bitch.
This is the type of girl. That was previously far beyond my stratosphere. That I want to stick my dick inside with unbridled passion.
The way that I’m staring into her eyes should make this rather clear. A delighted smile dances on her glossed lips.
My text of arrival was no mystery to her. She was just getting ready for me.
A push and a rush of air. The door opens.
“Lofty?”
My eyes do not quiver as I sexually subcommunicate into her soul. Sprezzatura sees me lackadaisically shift from my wall, step-by-step until I stand in front of her… staring down into her hazel eyes.
“HBMarina.”
A giggle met with outstretched arms. The embrace is a portent. From the five seconds we have seen each other, there is no doubt that I will know her.
I pull away as I keep my hands softly on her shoulders. Still staring into her. Frisson on her face. My words are readied after a planned moment of tension.
And from the look on her face, I know that I could slam her against the wall and take her right there. But I don’t. Arouse and tempt.
She asks if I want to go up to her room now. Sure. She’s on the third floor, so we’ll have a little time to talk as we walk.
On the way, she asks me how my night is going. Eh, so-so, I say. My friend Jada was texting me about how she was at a party but kept getting harassed by horny creeps. After all, it’s such a shame that women have to deal with these things when instead of being groped, they really just want to get to know you. But in the end, she met a guy who defended her from these guys, and he was rather fascinating. A skilled conversationist with a seductive gaze.
A thrilling development, right?
I recount how Jada told me about his offer to go home with him so they could dance a little and check out his artwork. And how she asked for my thoughts on the proposition. I portray it just how I explained it to her. That as a mature, independent women, I encouraged her to live her own life with spontaneity – taking the chance to release herself from the pressures of everyday life. Plus, instead of living life with regret, it’s better to grab life by the horns.
HBMarina likes this story.
Even if Jada only exists in our seducer imaginations, a demure image of a girl who lives in the moment.
I also ask her how her night is going on a scale of 1-10… if I were to ask her, of course. A 7. Not bad, I say. We all have these expectations for the rush of nightlife. Taking off the masks of the day-to-day drawl and becoming who we want to be. Meeting riveting people and learning new things about ourselves – perhaps even discovering unexpected things. But while a 7 out of 10 is decent, has she ever noticed how that 7 out of 10 night can be become a 10 out of 10 night in just an instant?
Yes, HBMarina says. She has noticed that.
Good, I reply. Because there’s this vibe in the air and I’d like to explore it together.
Not wanting to repeat past mistakes, I also set an open-loop about how I was also producing music earlier. She’d like to hear it. My new melodies are only on my computer, though, so maybe we can listen sometime at my place. I do this just in case sex doesn’t happen neither here nor on the hammock. Trying to be more risk-averse.
Like she texted me, her brother also produces music. He’s just getting started. So I inquire as to whether she remembers an exhilarating time when she was doing something new and exciting. She does – when she danced in high school.
That’s interesting. Because I feel like when you keep an open-mind, trusting yourself and other people, these electrifying opportunities really can pop up at any moment. We just have to be ready to thrust ourselves into the thick of it when the time comes. You know what I mean?
She does.
We’re at her dorm.
===2/7, 3:00 AM – Fucking HBMarina
Her shoulder has been up against mine since I came in from outside. I don’t think I’ve looked away from her, either. Arouse and tempt. Risk-aversion.
It’s a suite-style dorm, so she has roommates in the rooms adjacent to hers. A reminder to not be too loud. We go through one more entrance into her room, and we hop up onto the raised bed, sitting next to each other, inches away from contact.
The room itself is rather charming. Lots of pillows and calming décor. White dresser with a mirror you can see from the bed. Pictures of friends and experiences draped on the wall. Homey.
Next to each other, she’s enlivened. Well-aware of what secrets these walls will hold.
I break the silence with my mirror neurons firing.
She’s all mine. But I can tell that she’ll need me to get things going physically.
This girl is inches away from my mouth now, and I know it’s time. I close the final few centimeters and our lips meet in an eager frenzy.
Lip-to-lip, we are basking in each other’s attention. We needed this. Wanted it.
Her movement is soft yet aggressive. Once her hands begin to glide against my shirt, I pull away. A surprised hot-girl look. Grinning, I tug her shirt into me until she kisses me again.
My own hands begin to prance upon her body. On the outside of her clothing. Then a touch of exposed skin. Then on the outside of her clothing. Then to her hair. Her neck. While her tongue and hands are swirling.
Once my right index finger softly strokes down her inner chest, she moans, moving her lips down to my neck. She wants to claim me with a hickey.
But I’m not here for a hickey.
Letting her think she’ll have her way for a moment, I then gently twirl one hand in her elegant hair and stroke the outer edges of her face with the other. My next move is to teasingly push and pull her away, simultaneously. I do that.
“Absolutely… not.”
“Why, baby, whyyyyy???? Please baby, please let me, I’ll be so good for you, I promise!”
She pleads. Entertaining. A reminder that she’s either 18 or 19 years old, both a highly desirable women yet largely a young girl.
Also, she has clearly displayed traits of a blend between the SUB and OCP archetypes. Based off her texts, I had an inkling this was the case… and she’s proving it right now. I like this. A lot.
With my hands still in the same positions, I yank her down under me so she now lays with her head on the pillow. A little girly sound. I smooth my hands through her hair, thumbs resting near her temples. Eye-gazing.
“You need to trust me, okay, HBMarina? Trust me. Trust me. Know that you can let go now. As my fingertips graze along your body, you’ll feel… relaxed… freed… liberated… and all of your problems like school… friends… COVID… will drift away like a balloon up into the sky… and you can entirely stop thinking about anything except for how much pleasure I’m going to give you.”
Moan. I lift up her chin and begin kissing her neck. She’s already squirming and asking for more. So I stick a finger in her mouth to help her with that. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” I assure her.
Not long after this, I tell her to lift up her arms. The faded blue top flies off, revealing a red lace bra and rather sumptuous breasts. I take off my jacket and shirt as well. Leaning down on her, I run more sex talk while caressing her to make her wet as a waterslide.
I go with versions of the Good/Bad Sex, 8 Orgasms, Mental G-Spot, and Submissiveness gambits. It was quite delightful to see her immense arousal with sex talk during foreplay. After reading this thread, I subscribed to Major Mark’s free Renegade Hypnotist newsletter where he’s noted to always just keep talking to a girl when intimate. Keeping her focus on you and her pleasure. So it’s fun to get creative with sex talk, in addition to pacing her, during this closeness.
20 minutes of sensual foreplay eases by... slowly. I am working very, very... slowly. Acclimatizing her to my tongue and touch.
Now one Lofty hand latches onto her bra, pulling it town and teasing her left nipple. But just for a second. Then the bra comes back on to her astonishment. A trick from Sex God.
“I don’t think you’re quite ready for that, yet, baby.”
“I promise you I am, Lofty! I am ready, please please please! I am ready for soooooo much more. I’ll be soooooo good for you. I’ll do anything you want! I want you inside of me. Please fuck me, Daddy!”
Oh. Is that right. Things are about to get very fun. Also, I don’t like to be called Daddy. Makes me feel weird. It doesn’t sound erotic to me, and we’re around the same age, anyway.
So I gently slap her. Put my hands around her neck. Groan animalistically into her ear. Whisper something much more suitable, if she does want to refer to me as something besides what she believes is my name, which isn't even my real name at all.
“You will refer to me as Master. HBMarina, you will be a good little slut for me and do anything that I ask. You will obey me. Submit to me. Tell me that you submit to me.”
“I submit to you, Master…”
Ah, yes. Soothing words to my horny, kinky ears.
How things can change in just an instant.
I command her to remove her pants. The black-and-white striped pants fly off, revealing a red lace thong. A matching set. Just for me.
Without saying anything, I put her hands on my belt. She hurriedly undoes it, and unzips the jeans. I do the rest, so they’re off. She tells me how hot I am. Cool.
Now, I graze my fingertips all around her thighs and lower abdomen. Her cute little hands are grasping for my boxers. I slap them away, shoving them onto her bra. Take it off and hand it to me.
Obedient girl.
The red lace bra is tossed onto the ground. Her nipples are extremely enticing. I do believe they require a good licking.
As my tongue meets her sumptuous nipples, two of my fingers are abruptly stuffed into her soaking-wet pussy, with the other hand ripping the thong off so it joins its matching bra on the floor.
A glorious shriek.
It’s Niagara Falls down there. And of course, I tell her all about it.
Using techniques learned from in10se’s Secret Principles of Pleasure – recommended to me by Dreamer – I extensively tease the fuck out of her pussy, clit, nipples, and body at large for about 30 more minutes while keeping the caressing and talking going. Eventually, my dick comes out. But I don’t allow her to touch it.
Once I know that she’s had her fill of moans and pleasure, I decide it’s time to move things forward around an hour into foreplay with an anti-climactic twist.
So she’s going crazy after finally being allowed to feel my cock, and I get the condom in my hand. Using all of my willpower, I pull my dick out of her mouth. Her look is priceless. Then, I slide the condom on to her utmost excitement. More begging.
“I want you inside of me, Lofty… I want you inside of me so badly…”
The time has come. After all this teasing and foreplay, I will conquest this beautiful girl who is yearning to take my cock. All these approaches… have paid off. She’s… all mine.
However.
I can’t get my dick in her really tight pussy. And you guys know my story. I’m acting experienced, but I’m just not at all experienced. I’m trying to get it in, and as I’m trying, my dick softens to about 75% with the condom on. That makes it even worse.
She starts apologizing profusely for how tight her pussy is, but I reassure her. Not the time to be all dominant Lofty – this is my fault. She’s really calm with it, and just encourages me to relax. Asks me to sit-up against the wall. I don’t like the aesthetic of her asking me to do something, but it’s time to be human and not a fucking BDSM overlord. We both want to fuck.
So after giving her a look, I methodically lean against the wall. She sits up, too, and begins to drape herself over me. Pushing the womanly softness of her body against me. Starts licking my ear and whispering…
“Relax, love… relax. It’s okay. It’s late, and you’re tired. You’re just here squeezed onto a twin-sized bed, and you’re using a condom… I actually really want you to take the condom off…”
Yeah… that’s nice. HOLD ON WTF IS SHE PACING ME?
“You’re right, baby… help me relax. I’ll use a condom, baby – it’s for you, not for me. Help me relax now…”
HBMarina smiles and nods. Pushes her tits up against me, simultaneously beginning to hypnotically shake her hips while sitting on my lap. She moves quite well.
Then after a few moments, she starts grinding her pussy so fucking insanely all over my dick. The visual stimulation is so intense that a raging erection returns.
With an extremely satisfied look on her face, she puts a handle on my dick and slides it into her waterslide of a pussy.
Oh… fuck. Getting soft was one of the scariest moments of my life, but she’s a real pro.
Now riding my dick like crazy. Bouncing her ass and just loving it.
But I’ve never had a girl ride me before, let alone like some fucking wild girl rodeo. I try to initiate the slow, sensual thrusting method taught by the Eros Technique videos I’ve watched, but I keep feeling like she’s going to break my dick.
We are not in-sync.
The girl is having tons of fun, though. Building her anticipation and focusing on foreplay definitely worked!
As for me, I really don’t feel much. Years of masturbation and the condom, yeah. I don’t mind, truthfully – I like pleasuring her and enjoy the mental sensations just as much, if not more, than the physical ones. Plus, I know that especially after a few weeks of the exercises from The Multi-Orgasmic Man that I’m in full control of my ejaculations.
After a few minutes of me just not harmonizing with her rhythm, she makes too sudden of a movement and I slip out of her. Which results in her body landing on my dick. Noticing me wince, she becomes extremely apologetic – oh my god I hurt you, I’m so so sorry – but I don’t give it much thought.
What I do give thought is that I’d much rather be in control, even though I highly appreciate her working with me so consummately.
When she tries to kiss me, I grab a handful of her hair. Then pull her head down to my chest and press it down.
“You will get back on me and obey every single fucking word I say. Do you understand me, HBMarina?”
“Yes, Master,” she enthusiastically recites.
And after a slight moment of her kissing my chest, she gets back on. This time, I have a better sense of how to do this.
I thrust up to her moan.
“Now pleasure yourself,” I say.
She goes crazy.
Stop.
Obedient girl.
I slowly come down while staring in her eyes and chanting, “Now… slow.. controlled movements…”
And we get very sensual. I tell her to match my breaths. In and out. Slowly. Controlled breaths.
Then I abruptly thrust up again for five seconds while she pleasures herself.
Next, slow, controlled movements. Repeat.
There we have the Eros Technique in effect.
We fuck like this for probably 15 minutes while I take the liberty of teasing her clit and nipples. Her hands flying through my hair. Clenching my hair. Harder and harder. Feeling her pussy become an unrelenting grip on my dick.
I know she’s been getting off. I decide that it’s time to put her into adapted missionary to drive her crazier.
I gently direct her body so she tumbles over, thinking that I’ll stay inside her, too. Maybe that was a dumb notion because I slip out.
And I can never get hard enough with a condom on to get back in.
Sigh.
When I’ve read about ED issues, I had trouble understanding them. I didn’t know how it was possible with a naked girl wanting to be penetrated. Yet, now I do. I already noticed weaker erections in recent months - presumably due to porn usage that I’ve now quit entirely – but this was extremely discouraging. I fear that these issues will follow me…
She enjoyed the dicking, however, and wants more. Starts calling me “love” again, trying to get me to relax. Laying on top of me. Twerking on me. Grinding. It’s very hot and erotic. But my dick can’t get past 70% with the condom and that’s not good enough. Maybe the condom was too tight, and that wasn’t helping?
On top of that, something unexpected happens. She’s kissing me, absolutely worshipping my body… when suddenly…
A drop of blood splatters on my chest.
What?
Yes, blood on my chest.
From my FUCKING NOSE.
My nose starts bleeding. Seriously, body?
However, HBMarina stays calm, saying that it’s okay and she won’t judge me. Thanks, I guess. She goes and gets a handful of tissues. There we are, with me lying naked, nose bleeding, in a hot girl’s bed, while she stands to my side and hands me tissues.
Not only that, but I’ve completely dominated this really hot girl who months ago would’ve seemed like just an extravagant dream. Like, I had her BEGGING to be fucked. BY ME.
If you haven’t given this seduction thing a try, I’d highly recommend it.
Moreover, I’m in the dorm where I was almost arrested just months ago.
And now a hot naked girl is handing me tissues.
It’s cosmic.
An influx of emotions. I start laughing. “What?” she worriedly inquires.
“Nothing,” I respond. “This is your bed. You shouldn’t be standing. Sit down with me and let’s talk.”
She smiles and jumps on the bed, resting next to me with her hands stroking my legs. It’s true that we escalated to sex very quickly. We need this, too. She asks some social frame stuff. I ask what is one thing that she really likes to do besides eating, sleeping, and partying? A blush. I guess why. It’s masturbation. I have her describe how she loves to masturbate with a vibrator, and she asks if I want to use it on her. Maybe, I say. She follows by saying that we’ll be spending plenty of time together, so we'll have plenty of opportunities to try things, including how she has dreamed of being fucked while tied-up, collared, and leashed...
I don’t address this. Instead, I ask more imaginative questions. Where she’d go if she could go anywhere, assuming she also won the lottery, of course.
Hawaii, to the beach. Ah, so you can skip around the beach in a bikini, showing off your body, and bask in the sun, feeling the warm of the sun’s rays energizing your skin…
Tells me that she’s never met anyone like me before. That’s what I’ve been wanting to hear.
The only thing I truly want is to give her a sexual experience that she’ll never forget. The type that 10 years from now… when all the mommy-duties are done for the day… that she’ll rub her clit to.
Then I get her talking more about herself. She thoroughly describes her drug usage, and how she got started with them while hanging out in the rural woods with her brothers. Names a bunch of psychedelics that I’ve never heard of, even though she expects that I have. Because for some reason everyone thinks that I do a lot of drugs.
She also offers me Molly at this point, but I politely decline.
If you haven’t noticed already, HBMarina is not only HOT and really sexual, but she’s also as cool as fuck.
Even though her behavior is somewhat erratic and probably flirts with that Cluster B spectrum, I know that I’ll want her as the beginning member of my rotation.
After around 15 minutes of bonding, my nose stops bleeding. We go to the sink, chuckling about not wanting to wake up her “innocent” roommates while parading through the shared hallway. She tugs on my necklace asking what it means. I give her my bullshit explanation about how it symbolizes Eternal Justice because of its wavey pendant and the liveliness of the water cycle… she just laughs while I tell her that it’s my necklace and it can mean whatever the fuck I want it to mean. I’ve said this a couple times now and love doing it every time.
When we’re cleaning the blood off my body, she gives a ton of compliments to me. About how I’m so sexy, my abs are so hot, whatever. I remember something in a thread about having a girl detail the three things that she likes most about you, so I think to adapt it here and ask this to her. Her answers are surprising... and telling.
Not the famed triad of looks, mon - you know.
And furthermore, maybe someone reads this and thinks about how she complimented my body, and how other girls have given me compliments lately.
Here’s the thing, though. I’m nothing special genetically. In fact, I've been so sexually underdeveloped that my first kiss wasn’t even until Summer 2019. Beyond my years of puberty. In a situation that would be almost impossible not to get a quick peck out of.
In middle school and high school, I observed the bodies of the girls becoming full and luscious. Hearing the stories of house parties and sex. Pretending to know about it, laughing about it.
Yet, it wasn’t my reality. I befriended the jocks and befriended the alternative kids and befriended the brainiacs. Everyone thought that I was fucking hard, just keeping it on-the-low because no one knew much about my personal life anyway.
The truth was that not only was I never fucking and never kissed, I had only even touched a girl a few times…
So get out of here with all that looks stuff. If YOU are the type of person who believes in that, I will tell you to just work on your fundamentals and cultivate your personal brand.
I read that advice months ago and took it to heart, worked at it. I am far from a good seducer and far from even having a good sex life. There’s a long way for me to go. But I’m beginning to build it.
I’m beginning to build a sex life that I dreamed about… for years… solely with cold approach pickup.
If you’re an incel, a virgin. If you have beliefs holding you back, a heretic.
Read this.
Accept that you know nothing. Scrap all of those beliefs in your head and toss them into the nearest trash can, just like pieces of no-good paper. As you do that, visualize the life you want to live, and set out to build it piece-by-piece.
You can join me as we try to do this together…
These are the thoughts flashing in my mind as HBMarina escorts me back into her room, giggling. I glide my hands from the outer lips of her pussy, to her hips, to her sparkling belly-button ring, to her bouncy tits, to the erect nipples, around and around her erect nipples, and onto her shoulders, eye-gazing. I push down.
“On your knees.”
“Yes, Master…”
She goes down, her hazel eyes looking up at me.
“I want you to worship every inch of my body. Kiss every inch of my body. If you do a good enough job like I know you can do, I’ll let you suck my cock… and maybe even let you taste my cum.”
Excitement. The rush of losing control. The thrill of only having pleasure on her mind. The fantasy of the submissive girl to please, intensified by a supreme lack of validation…
The bombshell is on all fours now. I feel that luxuriant, ombré hair sweep against my toes as she kisses my left foot, bubble butt raised high in the air. Amusing.
My baby girl.
She performs how I asked. Quite nicely like I knew she could. Back on her knees, bountiful tits staring at me just like her expectant eyes. Awaiting the verdict.
“You are allowed to lick my cock, but you are not allowed to put it in your mouth.”
Whether she is thrilled or disappointed, I do not know. My eyes roll back as I feel a moist vehicle excitedly going to town along the sides of my member. Channeling these percolating sensations up through my spine. Harnessing the sexuality in my brain. Trying to keep my mouth closed.
“Does it feel good for you? Please tell me! I just want you to feel sooooooo good…”
I look down upon the alluring sight. Viscerality takes over.
A handful of hair being pulled. Two fingers of my other hand sloshing around her mouth, her tongue struggling to swirl around them. I extract my fingers dripping with saliva and reach for my belt sprawled off to the side. Shove her face into my groin as I pull her arms behind her back and tie them up. Restrained.
Give her a look. A grin. She doesn’t know what’s next.
I do.
I pull her lips open and thrust my raging cock into her soft, wet mouth.
Sounds of release for both of us.
Perhaps if she wasn’t so focused on taking my dick down her throat, she’d notice that I’m almost in tears.
All those cold nights approaching on the streets. Feeling the brisk wind against my skin.
Remembering that feeling of trepidation in my gut as I did my first approaches, hardly able to move my mouth and feet.
How I scribbled that written statement in front of that jerk of a cop. How I went to the police station and spoke to the investigator. How he told me that he knew I was telling the truth, how it was all on video, how he gave me a fist bump and told me to be more careful.
The way my entire body shook when doing my first TRE session.
A visualization of cleansing HBWildflower’s bloodied face with my undershirt. Her outstretched arms as she adjusts my hairband.
Going to the STD clinic, taking all those rounds of antibiotics for the infection, then in the following weeks catching mono, lying motionless in bed.
Reading gambits, reading nextasf, reality-pacing, meta-pacing, feeling inspiration, writing words of my own.
The clenching grip of that addiction to porn, knowing that my future as a seducer was slowly slipping away.
Quitting that, teaching myself how to separate ejaculation from orgasm, stimulating myself only with the erotic images of my own fantasies.
And finally the swirling rolodex of profile pictures, of names, of words, of chat messages, of red alerts, of email notifications, of ellipses, of strangers on the Internet who have become so not strangers at all and have helped a random novice far more than anyone has helped me in real life... of skilledseducer.com.
“Good girl.”
===2/7, 9:00 AM – Post-Sex
HBMarina pushed herself, and my dick, a little too far. Well, part of it was me facefucking her. I did get a little too lively, admittedly. She began to gag and had to pull away just as I was about to cum.
Enter an almost comical scene when I’m hurriedly asking if she’s okay, she’s gagging, and I’m ejaculating all over her face.
I did feel really bad about this, but she didn't seem to mind much - instead, she cutely tried to catch my cum with her tongue. I made sure to give her lots of cuddles afterwards and made sure she knew how proud I was of her. While I frustratingly still couldn’t get inside of her again with a condom, we had our fill of satisfaction. And my dick had no trouble getting hard enough again to cum all over her tits as she pleaded and pleaded for a second dousing, so I’m functional… but will need to take every precaution in the future.
After that, I gave her my full attention for the rest of our time in bed. Doing my best to do a Major Mark, well, at least without ever having studied hypnosis... I whisper into her ear, being ever-so sensual with her body and pussy, bringing her eyes to a glaze.
It was a weird moment when her speech become slurred, and she had trouble describing how her pussy felt. But she eventually muttered how it never felt so tight before. And it was very tight. A clamp on my two fingers. I responded by fingering at her G-Spot, telling her all about the different parts of the vagina…
As the sun rose, we were still both obsessed with each other’s tongue but becoming quite tired. We decided that we’d save the hammocking trip for next time as the lake was a 30-minute drive… and it was just so nice lying in bed together. She became a little upset with me after finding out that I didn’t bring a hammock – was I just here for sex?
No, no… I thought her hammock would be big enough for both of us. This is the complete truth. I whip out my speaker, turn on my playlist, and trace around her lips as those concerns washed away… and we briefly stepped outside to bring in the new day, hand-in-hand. "Your pupils are so dilated when you look at me," she observes.
“Yours, too.. what do you think that means about us?”
We were quite passionate overall. Almost the entire time from 3:00 AM to 9:00 AM, we were tongue-to-tongue.
I could tell that she was getting very sleepy, but I also knew that she wasn’t going to ask me to leave. There’s a momentary consideration of falling asleep with her in the dorm, though I see the nervous look on her face as we hear her roommates stirring in the adjacent rooms.
So I make the call to leave as she makes a pouty-face. I pack up my belongings, including my special white shirt that caught a splattering of blood. However, I can’t find my little cloth pouch of condoms. She actually asks me if I need any more. That devilish grin, and I say that, no, I’m good for now.
We tip-toe out of her room as I feel my jacket rub against my bare chest. What is it with me and bloody shirts and crazy girls and left-behind thongs and left-behind condoms…
Make-out in the hallway. Make-out in the elevator. Make-out at the exit.
And we’re back where we began.
On my long walk back to my apartment, I’m not sure how to feel. I feel accomplished yet slightly detached, and I do wish we would have gone to the lake. But she was so amazing and couldn’t keep her hands off of me, either. Another happy customer, I think. That’s what matters most.
I stop at the store and buy a birthday-cake flavored protein cookie, a vanilla bean protein shake, and a bagel. Walking and eating, walking and thinking.
The cold air tingles, enticing yet calming. Alert and sleepy. How I feel.
When the key turns into my door, I remember to send that wonderful post-sex text message of soreness.
Drying away the droplets of water on my worn body, I fall into my own bed. Drifting away into an erotic slumber, the thoughts of which become more and more of a reality every single day.
I sleep into the night. Longer than I expected. I miss most of the Super Bowl, but I don’t care because spending time with HBMarina was much better. It was a terrible game anyway. Finally, I glance at my phone in the anticipation of messages from the girl who I think might be my first fuckbuddy and even first relationship.
Those green icons appear on my screen, but only one is as expected.
And my baby is sore. A job well done! This makes me so happy!
But that second text message… whaaaat?
A moment later, I get it. She recongizes how much she enjoyed me dominating her and is having trouble accepting it in reflection. She feels… slutty.
Oh no.
When I was being all Major Mark with her, I did mention how liberated – both sexually and mentally – I thought she was. Besides that, I didn’t do much else post-sex to prevent these feelings. In addition, I didn’t validate her body AT ALL – only her thoughts and actions. Gunwitch style, and it worked amazingly. She always kept seeking my validation, even pleading for it!
Although, I dominated her pret-ty heavily there. She loved every second. No objections, and she was the one who called me “Daddy” first. Thought that gave me the green-light to start getting kinky. It’s still important to note that it’s not like I was tying her up Shibari-style and whipping her or anything… just mental challenges of submission. I tried to find her fantasies and help her live them. An escape into dreamland with Lofty.
I also remembered a nextasf thread linked by Skills one time. In that link, a member named November referenced some dynamic called the “subdrop” where the submissive enters this depleted state after being dominated. It’s your responsibility to help her through it. Cuddle with her, talk with her, feed her chocolate.
Oh no.
We cuddled and talked, but it felt like it was part of the sex. The entire encounter was pretty much sex. Almost every minute. Additionally, we didn’t follow through on the plausible deniability of watching the sunrise at the lake.
Oh no.
The picture is coming together in my mind.
She probably was super excited to send that first text when she woke up. Then she reminisced, and maybe even talked to her friends about it. Maybe HBThorn. Imagine that conversation!
OMG I hung out with that Lofty guy you set me up with! He was super cool! Thank you!!!!!
Super glad to hear it! How was sunrise at the lake?
Oh, we actually didn’t go…
Really? So what did you do?
Well, we listened to music, and kissed a little bit...
Did you guys have sex? Was he good?
Haha he was so different! He had this seductive way of talking and was super dominant!
Dominant? Like Fifty Shades of Grey shit? Did he slap you? DO WE NEED TO CALL THE POLICE???!?!?!
Yeah I mean he did slap me, but it was gentle. And we really were into it…
THAT MOTHERFUCKER. WE WILL EXPOSE HIS MYSOGYNISTIC ASS ON TWITTER.
Above all, I felt terrible that I didn’t have that post-sex conversation with her to make sure that she knew how much I appreciated her. That it was all just fun kink. I felt like she would know that because I was way more sensual and loving than I was dominant, but maybe she wasn’t as sexually experienced as I thought?
Yeah, I was quickly seeing that I made mistakes post-sex. Feeling terrified that I made this wonderful girl feel slutty. That’s not what we want to do as seducers. That’s the opposite of what we want to do. I felt like I failed her.
As I see them, my mistakes include the following:
There are many people in the community who WANT to help me. For some reason, maybe because I wanted to prove that Big Bad Lofty Who Just Got His Dick Sucked could fix this, I compose an over-reacted text message without asking for any input. That was my worst mistake of all.
I meant free to text or call… because it was actually concerning me. A lot. I couldn't even sleep that night.
Then everything BLOWS THE FUCK UP IN MY FACE. So much for Witch 15...
Okay, yes. Sunrise and hammocking. Should’ve done that. Agreed and noted. I TOLD YOU THAT I THOUGHT YOUR HAMMOCK WOULD BE BIG ENOUGH FOR BOTH. OF. US.
Okay, didn’t want to hook up? Hey, this means that at least I did that blurring thing correctly! I think?
Come on, though, she maybe wanted it EVEN MORE THAN ME. She let me into her dorm room at 3:00 AM. She offered to drive over to my place alone. She wore matching red lace undergarments! Repeatedly begged to be fucked. Puh-lease.
Okay, “submissive person” thing. You called me “Daddy” first. I only said, “Call me Master” because I hate “Daddy.” Or else I wouldn’t have done it. You were completely into it. No objections, ever. Amplified it, even. The entire time. You literally bowed down and kissed my feet and thanked me for the opportunity. Come. On. I know you liked cumming when I was whispering romantic things in your ear, but you sure as hell liked it when I tied up your arms, too…
Still, I know that I should've talked to her post-sex about the kinky stuff. That’s all my fault. All on me. My responsibility. Was a mistake, yes.
That’s not cool to even tangentially bring up. Ever. Super hot and we had a great time. But not cool, HBMarina. Not cool.
Especially after that last comment, I knew it would be the end of our fling. I get the overall premise from her perspective. Absolutely. I made her feel slutty and made some mistakes. That’s my fault - I was too ambitious. But did she handle this the right way…?
I dunno. Anyway, I don’t care about anything other than addressing every single one of her points.
Yeah, I wish I dialed it back a bit. But again, she was super into ALL of it and only advanced the kinky stuff forward. I probably wasn't ready for a lot of that, either, with my inexperience. Too ambitious, Lofty. And I don't know how excited I can be to get kinky after that. It surely dampens my excitement about it. Also, fuck porn.
She responded pretty much right away here, which I didn’t notice and should have kept that going to get out all of the feels right there. Might as well see if this could get this fully recovered, although it is clearly doubtful. I try to do one of those vulnerability texting things.
I hate that I even made a girl view me this way. At this point, I almost wished that it never happened.
Definitely should’ve just ended this conversation on my terms now, but I didn’t.
Aaaaaand that’s all she wrote with HBMarina. I’m glad that we’re good in the end, but I can't help but feel disappointed and regretful about the way it ended.
Overall, that entire text conversation could’ve been bypassed. We’d see each other again. Talk a little. Bang. No issue.
I made it a big problem, and lost her because of it. I fell into her frame and dug a deep hole. Allowed her to probably talk to her friends, giving her tons of negative feedback.
It’s just a shame. I know I made some mistakes post-sex, and if I never saw her again, I’d completely understand and be fine with that.
The worst part is losing that feeling of what she said to me. Things like, as HBWildflower put it, I feel like you’ll be the guy that I’ll think back on and never forget…
With every other girl I fuck, I promise she will feel that way not only during sex but afterwards, too.
===2/15, 12:27 PM – Reflection #2
Life is life.
The world is the world.
Good things happen, and bad things happen.
But in your life, does the good outweigh the bad?
Can this scale be tilted further to the side that YOU want?
I think so.
Humans have agency. Choice. Action.
I worked hard for awesome sex with a hot girl. A couple lay reports now. My life has been changed, even though I still have a long way to go. I’m way better than I was in August. I understand things more, and I have so many crazy zany insane amazing erotic lovely experiences packed into a few months.
It feels really cool to say this.
So what that I lost a girl post-sex. You know what, I think she’ll be lying in bed one day with that vibrator she told me about. Her hands will drift down, and her thoughts, well, maybe, just maybe, they won’t be of Chode #17… but they’ll be of me…
I understand that societal pressures contributed to her feeling slutty after we had so much fun together. It was my responsibility to alleviate her from that, and I didn’t. I do feel like I failed her in a way. I'll be better next time and every time afterwards.
Now that the passionate heat and eventful aftermath has sailed away. Only happy memories remain. That’s why, right now, I was finally able to write this report instead of lying in my bed… thinking about it… thinking about her…
After My Little Wildflower, Bacchus told me that scarcity creates an illusory sense of value. Remember there will always be another lay.
I knew he was right, of course, but it was hard to truly believe it at the time… for me. Is it really possible that I, Lofty, can always have another lay?
Yep.
I believe it now.
if you don't already, you should believe this about yourself, too.
I’ve just realized something very interesting.
Have you ever noticed how amazing it is that we can be sitting here, reading these words, and these words can carry our minds to somewhere entirely different?
For example, I’m sitting here. With my hands deciding what pushes on the keyboard will come next. And then as my fingers go tap tap tap... suddenly I find where my mind is.
It’s back at last Sunday morning, the 7th. Around 9:00 AM. Let’s go there.
This is a vivid moment. A moment when ALL of my senses are activated.
No, not activated. Renewed.
I’ve learned that this is what happens after you have sex.
The world feels both tiny and massive in this moment. Also, I'm currently making out with a hot girl that I just banged.
My feet are just steps away from the exit of the dormitory, an exit of which is also an entry into an expansive world where limitless possibilities await.
And furthermore, two words cross my electrified mind: Witch 15.
So I will soon muster up the fibers of my body to retract back to the body of my own, but only after one last feverish swim across the ocean of her body, from the softness of her bounteous derrière to the headlands of her spine to the coastline of her sparkling face. My hands rest in these waters, and I soak in the warmth of her hazel gaze.
She doesn’t want me to leave quite yet. She wants to kiss more.
A kiss on the forehead. No more words except goodbye. I anchor away without turning back, back into the world I go.
One foot out the door into the cold, then two, then three.
My mind is still on her, feeling her eyes on me still.
The feeling is so intense, in fact, that I almost walk directly into an innocent-looking chap who clearly observed our liminality in some combination of awe, jealousy, and disgust.
I know the look on his face, in his eyes, behind his mask.
Because that used to be me.
===2/13, 5:39 PM – Reliving The Set-Up
How it happened. What happened before this particular morning hour.
I will let you know.
It began how it began, over on the night of January 29th.
A crazy night among the wildest in the Lofty records. I was out and about, approaching on the nighttime streets as I’ve done in these COVID times. My weekend strategy as of late has been to intercept the party-hoppers on and around my college campus because this is where most of the activity lies given the circumstances. While the night was capped by a 3:00 AM tumble in the shrubs - a near-lay – with a hot 18-year-old Cluster B who lost her purse, something rather interesting happened in the hours before. And out of all of the things during this time, it seemed the most tame, the most unlikely to produce a sexual result.
Earlier that night, I was punched by a heavily inebriated girl wearing daisy-dukes, befriended an equally inebriated guy, am approached by a girl who takes a strong interest in my hairband, become baffled when the drunk guy chases her off, try to re-hook the girl, and attempt to go to a party with the drunk guy who I had just ditched for the girl.
An uproarious series of events.
What almost immediately followed was a spur-of-the-moment two set. As I returned to one of my favorite post-up locations to regroup, a smallish blonde wearing a white corset-looking top approaches me with open arms. In my journal, I call this girl HBThorn. Her friend is dramatically hugging a friend goodbye. Now she is pretending to the same to me. A little peculiar behavior but it made sense in the spontaneity of the moment.
Of course, I don’t turn down a free hug! I’ll include the original telling of this event in the spoiler below.
It’s an active night.
As I go back to the same post-up location, I notice a two-set at the crosswalk. One of them is hugging a dude, saying goodbye. The other girl, a cute, petite blonde wearing this white corset-looking top and blue jeans, notices me. When I get close, she starts acting like she’s making an emotional goodbye to me as her friend is to the dude. The girl, HBThorn, opens up her arms for a hug. Kind of weird, but I won’t say no!
Her friend, who is actually a quite attractive blonde, makes her way over. A quick introduction, and she quietly walks ahead of us while HBThorn and I chat. I fractionate through the three keys. Hit some SOTs like connection, adventure, and relaxation in stressful times. Says she likes gymnastics and playing the violin to relax. Perfectly sets up my plausible deniability of producing a song together. I’m close to breaking her will. Very close. She’s bumping shoulders and all that. Wants me. Her friend is the issue. Poor girl doesn’t want to be viewed as a slut. Accordingly, I enter a discussion of how much of a shame it is that women are judged so harshly, and how sexual freedom is true liberation and independence.
This brings us to the courtyard in front of the dorm. Different dorm than the all-girls one. It’s co-ed, so while I’m not supposed to go in because of COVID… I could. The three of us are standing there while I persist to continue our conversation inside, maybe talking about making music. After all, we’re spontaneous people, right? We wouldn’t want to regret not talking advantage of a chance encounter with an interesting stranger…
She whips out her phone, and shows me her friend’s Instagram page. Hey, she is really hot. Way hotter than HBThorn. Sorry.
Damn, she’s a hot bad bitch who I assume smokes weed and does acid. Yeah, you can give her my number. But how do I know she’ll text me?
So HBThorn sends a Snap message to her hot friend, HBMarina. It says something about how she met this cute guy named Lofty who will be sending her a text. And that we have such a similar vibe and should meet up. Thanks!
It works like this. HBThorn actually takes my number haha. That would’ve been super Mach if she truly wanted it for herself. Then she sends me HBMarina’s number. I make a note to text her, but I don’t get my hopes up. It’s cool, though.
This Logan guy, the boyfriend, comes out to let them in. It’s kind of sudden, and they leave before I react or charm him. We move on.
As I go back to the same post-up location, I notice a two-set at the crosswalk. One of them is hugging a dude, saying goodbye. The other girl, a cute, petite blonde wearing this white corset-looking top and blue jeans, notices me. When I get close, she starts acting like she’s making an emotional goodbye to me as her friend is to the dude. The girl, HBThorn, opens up her arms for a hug. Kind of weird, but I won’t say no!
HBThorn: It was so nice to meet you, oh my god! I can’t believe you’re leaving!!!
Me: Oh my god, I know. You were like the coolest, most spontaneous girl I’ve ever met. There’s this vibe about you that just makes you so different from all these other girls who are so superficial… you’re simply one-of a kind.
HB (pushing away from the hug and taking a curious look into my eyes): Hi.
Me: Hi. Besides tearful goodbyes, what are you up to?
HB: Haha. We’re just going back to [dorm] now.
Me: Wow, me too. You’re a freshman, then. Me too - I live off-campus but was planning on going that direction to meet up with some friends. We can walk and talk on the way there. (Lots and lots of social frame BS)
HB: Okay!
Me: Oh my god, I know. You were like the coolest, most spontaneous girl I’ve ever met. There’s this vibe about you that just makes you so different from all these other girls who are so superficial… you’re simply one-of a kind.
HB (pushing away from the hug and taking a curious look into my eyes): Hi.
Me: Hi. Besides tearful goodbyes, what are you up to?
HB: Haha. We’re just going back to [dorm] now.
Me: Wow, me too. You’re a freshman, then. Me too - I live off-campus but was planning on going that direction to meet up with some friends. We can walk and talk on the way there. (Lots and lots of social frame BS)
HB: Okay!
This brings us to the courtyard in front of the dorm. Different dorm than the all-girls one. It’s co-ed, so while I’m not supposed to go in because of COVID… I could. The three of us are standing there while I persist to continue our conversation inside, maybe talking about making music. After all, we’re spontaneous people, right? We wouldn’t want to regret not talking advantage of a chance encounter with an interesting stranger…
Me: Yeah, it’s been such a calming and relaxing conversation, hasn’t it? Feels like I’ve known you for my entire life… I get the sense that you are the type of girl to connect with people very quickly. So let’s just go inside and talk about music a little more… just kind of winding down the night, you know?
HBThorn: I’m soooooo tired, though. I don’t stay up late.
Me: Oh, I understand. How late do you usually stay up?
HB: Well, 3 or so…
Me: Hey, you’re actually a bit of a night owl… that’s pretty late. It’s 2:00… that gives us one hour… then I’ll leave and you can go to sleep.
HB: ….
HotFriend: I just texted Logan! He’s coming to let us in.
Me: Wait, so you don’t live here?
HB: Yeah… not at this specific dorm, a different one. She’s going to hang out with her boyfriend for a while.
Me: Perfect. If he’s as cool as you two, I’d love to meet him. And then we can just go on a soothing walk to put the cherry-on-top of our nights…
HB: I’m really tired though… Do you smoke weed?
Me: How come you ask?
HB: Haha, I get that about your vibe. Do you do acid?
Me: Are you profiling me?
HB: Hahahhahaaha noooooooo
HB: I’m honestly tired, but we should hang out another time! What’s your SnapChat?
Me: I recently deleted my social media. It was stressful for me… I’m sure you understand – it was time for a new and refreshing life.
HB: I get that! Do you do phone numbers?
Me: Wouldn’t you rather take advantage of NOW? We can’t control the future… there’s all these overbearing things like school, COVID, work… we’ll be so busy that who knows if we’ll see each other again? But we can control the NOW… that’s up to US. We can make it an unforgettable time… you wouldn’t want to regret anything, right? I wouldn’t…
HB: No, but, please?
Me: We can go on a walk first, then I’ll give you my number.
HB:
HB: Can I give your number to my friend, then? She’s really hot. You two have such the same vibe!!
HBThorn: I’m soooooo tired, though. I don’t stay up late.
Me: Oh, I understand. How late do you usually stay up?
HB: Well, 3 or so…
Me: Hey, you’re actually a bit of a night owl… that’s pretty late. It’s 2:00… that gives us one hour… then I’ll leave and you can go to sleep.
HB: ….
HotFriend: I just texted Logan! He’s coming to let us in.
Me: Wait, so you don’t live here?
HB: Yeah… not at this specific dorm, a different one. She’s going to hang out with her boyfriend for a while.
Me: Perfect. If he’s as cool as you two, I’d love to meet him. And then we can just go on a soothing walk to put the cherry-on-top of our nights…
HB: I’m really tired though… Do you smoke weed?
Me: How come you ask?
HB: Haha, I get that about your vibe. Do you do acid?
Me: Are you profiling me?
HB: Hahahhahaaha noooooooo
HB: I’m honestly tired, but we should hang out another time! What’s your SnapChat?
Me: I recently deleted my social media. It was stressful for me… I’m sure you understand – it was time for a new and refreshing life.
HB: I get that! Do you do phone numbers?
Me: Wouldn’t you rather take advantage of NOW? We can’t control the future… there’s all these overbearing things like school, COVID, work… we’ll be so busy that who knows if we’ll see each other again? But we can control the NOW… that’s up to US. We can make it an unforgettable time… you wouldn’t want to regret anything, right? I wouldn’t…
HB: No, but, please?
Me: We can go on a walk first, then I’ll give you my number.
HB:
HB: Can I give your number to my friend, then? She’s really hot. You two have such the same vibe!!
Damn, she’s a hot bad bitch who I assume smokes weed and does acid. Yeah, you can give her my number. But how do I know she’ll text me?
So HBThorn sends a Snap message to her hot friend, HBMarina. It says something about how she met this cute guy named Lofty who will be sending her a text. And that we have such a similar vibe and should meet up. Thanks!
It works like this. HBThorn actually takes my number haha. That would’ve been super Mach if she truly wanted it for herself. Then she sends me HBMarina’s number. I make a note to text her, but I don’t get my hopes up. It’s cool, though.
This Logan guy, the boyfriend, comes out to let them in. It’s kind of sudden, and they leave before I react or charm him. We move on.
HBThorn then tries to number close me, although I reject because I want to fuck her right then and there. However, she must have taken this as a rejection. So she whips out her phone and shoves an Instagram page in my face. It’s the tantalizing page of her sorority sister. On this bright screen, I see a well-featured, hot brunette who is more attractive than the more cute HBThorn.
And HBThorn pleads for permission to give me the number of her friend. An interesting dynamic. Social frame resulting from a strong impression?
If she can’t have this mysterious stranger, perhaps her hotter friend could. Maybe that would mean I’d also be closely available in the future…
Since HBThorn’s friend is very attractive, I decide to play along. The number of this girl, who I call HBMarina, is excitedly sent to my phone. Ping.
I don’t expect much from this exchange. But might as well give it a go. I politely inquire for HBThorn to tell HBMarina about the impending text. To which she enthusiastically sends a Snap message to HBMarina about how she met a cute guy named Lofty…
We then part ways. Not long after that I’m in another girl’s mouth, rolling around the foliage. But when I wake up the next day, I remember to send an icebreaker text to HBMarina not really expecting a response.
In reality, we set sail.
===1/30 – 2/6 Texting with HBMarina
If you followed my journal in the fall, you’ll know that my texting is rather, um, raw.
I lost tons of leads from this. Mostly every girl I number closed – so many that I decided to pretty much stop number closing and go for the SDL/SNL entirely. Still, I dedicated time during my winter break to improve my text game. Many thanks to @fog and Velasco for providing positive direction in this matter. Also what has really helped me is an insightful suggestion from @Bacchus, who says to simply envision her response before hitting send. Therefore taking full advantage of the fact that at least texting provides you with the time to think and compose.
Anyway, I feel like my texting has become a bit better. It remains quite rough, even poor. But not as skin-and-bones as before. Gives a little chance, at least.
It helps me compose this icebreaker text.
While I’m doing a bodyweight exercise routine a few hours later, my eyebrows raise when I receive an unexpected response. Warm.
Can we say… S-O-C-I-A-L F-R-A-M-E?
Why, yes!
Social frame.
Also picking up clever tactics from a number of thoughtful text guides on the forums, I try to concoct something engaging, immersive, and SOT-charged. Featuring the hint of plausible deniability.
Gah. See? I am no text game expert. Thinking that she was already invested to quickly meet-up per HBThorn’s suggestion, I went for the close too soon.
I imagine her suggestion to “do it during the day” is essentially a manifestation of ASD. Because although the plausible deniability was set, it’s probably difficult to overcome the inherent sexual premise of a nighttime meet-up with a recommended beau.
Or safety concerns. That too.
Anyway, I think that I’ve mostly messed things up at this point. A text doesn’t come from her until Wednesday, which honestly surprised me again.
Well, would you have a look at that. Maybe my texting is super cringe. Actually, it is super cringe. But it’s at least not terrible enough anymore to give this thing a sliver of hope. Again, the social frame awarded by HBThorn has to be a major factor. After all, HBMarina has never even seen me yet… unless HBThorn snagged a quick picture of me without my knowledge.2/3, 5:54 PM
HBMarina: Oh my gosh I’m sorry I didn’t see that you wanted to go for a walk on Sunday
HBMarina: We should go hammocking this week
2/4, 12:10 AM
Me: hammocking sounds super fun. like we can escape into our own little world together. when are you free?
2/4, 2:01 AM
HBMarina: I’m free on Sunday. We should definitely go at sunrise or sunset tho
Me: hey there night owl. good idea - let’s do sunrise on sunday. i take it that you know a good spot? (note: I did not want to do sunset because of the potential for her to flake for a Super Bowl party)
HBMarina: You’d be correct
HBMarina: [nearby lake] is a very pretty spot to do it
Me: sounds like we have a plan. your ideas are fresh and interesting. i can already tell that you’re not like most girls
Me: im very curious what I’ll see when i look into your eyes
2/4, 3:15 AM
HBMarina: You think so?
At this high point, I do not respond even though I’m still awake.
Instead, I mull this situation over in a journal post. As usual, this fantastic community is here to help. My friend @fog makes a few astute observations and provides a suggestion for a new, improved texting direction.
@fog's words really made sense to me. He’s a great teacher and has been since the first time we chatted. In this case, I was making it too easy for her. She’s a hot girl. Probably has plenty of orbiters blowing up her phone. I was intriguing her, but it was all happening on HER terms. If I continued down this volatile path, she could become flaky again and jeopardize the interaction.
After deliberation, I went with @fog's second recommendation as I still recognize my lack of experience with a fully conversational texting style. With a naughty grin on my face, I send the text off to pull this rope back in my direction.
She hasn’t responded by the time I make my next journal post on Saturday. We’re supposed to meet later that night to go hammocking and watch the sunrise, but again, the details are extremely hazy. In fact, I’m not even sure if it will happen. Still, I know that @fog's plan sets me up for success. This is all part of the process. No panicking, no neediness. Calm.
At this point, I make note of the logistics that still must be addressed.
And then I brainstorm a list of potential text messages to begin addressing these logistical uncertainties.
When she still hasn’t said anything by 8:45 PM on Saturday, I send a message presuming that our intent is still to meet. Here we go.
Like a wave. Up, and then down. I quickly realize that the Super Bowl comment was a misstep. As she has no plans, it provides her the opportunity to suggest meeting for sunset the next day. This not only would give her back most of the power in the interaction, but it obviously gives her an opportunity to flake. Plus, I want to meet her tonight. Plus, I want to watch the Super Bowl. Accordingly, I switch to a different logistical thread.2/6, 8:51 PM
Me: have a playlist ready for sunrise. you like jazzy hip-hop instrumentals and spacey-sounding electronic vibes, right?
2/6, 8:53 PM
HBMarina: I like soo many types of music
HBMarina: It all depends on the vibe
HBMarina: But send me some songs you’re talking about
HBMarina: Do we wanna go for sunrise or sunset? I’m going to a party tonight so I don’t wanna wake up and realize I missed sunrise
Me: i could send you some but on the other hand maybe i should leave you intrigued
HBMarina: Hmm maybe you should
Me: and i was thinking sunrise because sunset is at the same time as the super bowl and i thought we might both have parties then
HBMarina: Ohh okay
HBMarina: I have no plans for the super bowl
Let’s go! Lofty unorthodox triple-text for the win2/6, 9:06 PM
Me: you have a car?
HBMarina: Yes sir
Me: sweet. we’re both night owls so sunrise will be fun and exciting
Me: i definitely want you to have fun with your friends tonight, so yeah let’s meet up after that then
Me: Around midnight sound good? That way we can just chill and already be together before we go
HBMarina: Oh wow that’s actually a good idea
HBMarina: I’m a tad bit worried I’ll get tired
Me: no worries! we can just feel it out and if you get sleepy, then we’ll talk about it no problem. we’re not superhuman, we all get tired
HBMarina: You’re a great person and I already know it.
HBMarina: Where do you stay at?
Me: im over at [name of apartment complex], [address]. its a good spot, really close to everything
But not so quick, you little Casanova, you.
What happens next is a little expected. There’s not a peep from her even into the midnight hour. Well, we’ve come this far, haven’t we? Might as well give it a shot. Oh, and it’s raining pretty heavily now.
A pause for some time. Over an hour. That means one thing.2/7, 12:41 AM
Me: let me know when you get here and i can come get you with an umbrella if it’s still raining. you can also call me if you need anything!
2/7, 12:42 AM
HBMarina: Would you mind picking me up later on? I know you’re a night owl too, but I don’t wanna keep you up
HBMarina: Think we’ll be up all night?
Me: i would definitely pick you up... but unfortunately i don’t have a car. you can always Uber and i’d wait for you outside of the apartment
Me: i get the sense that we’ll quickly get deep into conversation so we just might, but i also want you to be comfortable and feeling well of course. that’s what matters most
HBMarina: Thank you for being so considerate. I’m back at my dorm. I might have a friend drive me to your place, or we could meet up tomorrow morning?
Me: you know im a nighttime guy and im excited to chill with you! it’ll be a really relaxed vibe and a nice way to wind down. yeah try having a friend drop you off then, and if that doesn’t work we can talk it out. sound good?
HBMarina: Sounds good
Me: hmmmmmmmm. nah don’t risk that, probably best to give it a few more hours. but you’re right about needing your car. so what if i just grab a ride over to you? that work?
I am definitely being discussed in the sorority group chat right now. Seems like they’re talking it over thoroughly.
The levee gives in eventually. Probably the social frame and encouraging her to not possibly drunk-drive over to my place – alone – in the pouring rain. Also, she’s not going to be tired. She texted me at 3:15 AM on a Thursday morning. That tiredness isn’t real. She’s good, just have to work past those objections.
===2/7, 2:50 AM – Meeting HBMarina
Quick as a cheetah, I call an Uber and pack a drawstring bag with an umbrella, Bluetooth speaker, fruit snacks, and condoms.
My outfit of choice is a green bomber jacket, a white long-sleeved undershirt, bleached slim-fitting jeans, and suede black PUMA sneakers that have light blue detailing. Topped off by a silver necklace with a wave-like pendant, and a silver bracelet on my left wrist. These were additions recommended by @Bismarck in what feels like such a long time ago, but it really wasn't. These items have now become very special to me.
Lastly, we swipe in a hairband to acquiesce the locks.
On the way there, I notice a couple things. First off, the rain has stopped. Second, the destination is quite familiar.
As the Uber pulls up to the front door of the dormitory, I look about 200 feet to my right. Some emotions build up. It’s the place where I was wrongfully detained by dumb police in August. That was a rainy day, too. I was also wearing the same white shirt. But the person wearing the shirt is much different.
For example, well, where to start?
I am who I am writing this and I was who I was writing that. The difference is palpable.
Anyway, I see both the excitement and irony in this situation. I hop out of the Uber and post-up against a cold, brick wall inside the dorm pavilion.
Alright, alright. I know what some of you are thinking. Lofty is going over to a girl’s dorm room at 3:00 AM. This is blatantly a hook-up, right?2/7, 2:43 AM
Me: okay I’m at the door
No. Well, I don’t think so, personally. This is a situation borne out of cold approach. She’s a hot girl who’s excited to see me at 3:00 AM when the only information she has are a referral and some text messages. All apparently because of the impression I made during that two-set and our text conversation. Guess I’m safe and intriguing now.
Moreover, the plausable deniablility of watching the sunrise and listening to music was set. Frames were set. Not a perfect performance from me, but it got the job done. At least so far. Still work to do, I think. But I do know that the door is wide-open.
The door for sex, that is. The door of the dorm remains closed for the next 7 minutes.
While waiting, I do a few breathing exercises. Also, I have a spur-of-the-moment inspiration to make a quick list of topics that I want to have fresh in my memory. I jot them down in the Notes app on my phone.
I’m thankful that the ideas are flowing. I know I’m ready. If she’ll ever let me inside.
Finally, the text we’ve been waiting for.
Focusing on my breathing, I just keep using my phone as a prop. I want her to be looking at me when I look at her.
Soon, I feel a gaze through the glass doors. Fluent motion in the periphery. Slowly, I look up with a devilish grin.
What I see.
What I see first is the luxuriant ombré hair, long in length, lavishly outlining her body all the way to the small of her back, clearly a result of a very recent trip to the salon.
Her expansive, tailored hair provides a swanky look to her shorter frame. An athletically-slim frame that has been blessed with tantalizing features.
Swanky black-and-white striped pants hug every inch of her legs. That booty. Plush.
Craftily tucked in at the hips is an oversized, faded-blue top. The outline of her perky breasts excites me, especially when they bounce with every step she takes.
The expression. Sweet-faced. Daddy’s girl turned bad bitch.
This is the type of girl. That was previously far beyond my stratosphere. That I want to stick my dick inside with unbridled passion.
The way that I’m staring into her eyes should make this rather clear. A delighted smile dances on her glossed lips.
My text of arrival was no mystery to her. She was just getting ready for me.
A push and a rush of air. The door opens.
“Lofty?”
My eyes do not quiver as I sexually subcommunicate into her soul. Sprezzatura sees me lackadaisically shift from my wall, step-by-step until I stand in front of her… staring down into her hazel eyes.
“HBMarina.”
A giggle met with outstretched arms. The embrace is a portent. From the five seconds we have seen each other, there is no doubt that I will know her.
I pull away as I keep my hands softly on her shoulders. Still staring into her. Frisson on her face. My words are readied after a planned moment of tension.
Me: You know, I’ve realized something very… interesting. Maybe you realized this, too, while we were texting…
HBMarina: Yeah?
Me: Did you ever notice, while we were texting, the… connection… we seemed to have? It’s like our vibe… synced together. Our similarities… right from the start… were exciting. Remember what I said about staring into your eyes… and now that I am… I’m sure that there’s something so… different… about you, HBMarina… and isn’t so fascinating how it already feels like we’ve known each other forever… like this is meant to be?
HB: Yeah, like the way you were texting me, I knew that you actually cared about me. I did feel something when we were texting. I’m glad HBThorn gave you my number…
Me: *another pause with strong eye contact*
Me: I’m really excited to watch the sunrise with you.
HBMarina: Yeah?
Me: Did you ever notice, while we were texting, the… connection… we seemed to have? It’s like our vibe… synced together. Our similarities… right from the start… were exciting. Remember what I said about staring into your eyes… and now that I am… I’m sure that there’s something so… different… about you, HBMarina… and isn’t so fascinating how it already feels like we’ve known each other forever… like this is meant to be?
HB: Yeah, like the way you were texting me, I knew that you actually cared about me. I did feel something when we were texting. I’m glad HBThorn gave you my number…
Me: *another pause with strong eye contact*
Me: I’m really excited to watch the sunrise with you.
She asks if I want to go up to her room now. Sure. She’s on the third floor, so we’ll have a little time to talk as we walk.
On the way, she asks me how my night is going. Eh, so-so, I say. My friend Jada was texting me about how she was at a party but kept getting harassed by horny creeps. After all, it’s such a shame that women have to deal with these things when instead of being groped, they really just want to get to know you. But in the end, she met a guy who defended her from these guys, and he was rather fascinating. A skilled conversationist with a seductive gaze.
A thrilling development, right?
I recount how Jada told me about his offer to go home with him so they could dance a little and check out his artwork. And how she asked for my thoughts on the proposition. I portray it just how I explained it to her. That as a mature, independent women, I encouraged her to live her own life with spontaneity – taking the chance to release herself from the pressures of everyday life. Plus, instead of living life with regret, it’s better to grab life by the horns.
HBMarina likes this story.
Even if Jada only exists in our seducer imaginations, a demure image of a girl who lives in the moment.
I also ask her how her night is going on a scale of 1-10… if I were to ask her, of course. A 7. Not bad, I say. We all have these expectations for the rush of nightlife. Taking off the masks of the day-to-day drawl and becoming who we want to be. Meeting riveting people and learning new things about ourselves – perhaps even discovering unexpected things. But while a 7 out of 10 is decent, has she ever noticed how that 7 out of 10 night can be become a 10 out of 10 night in just an instant?
Yes, HBMarina says. She has noticed that.
Good, I reply. Because there’s this vibe in the air and I’d like to explore it together.
Not wanting to repeat past mistakes, I also set an open-loop about how I was also producing music earlier. She’d like to hear it. My new melodies are only on my computer, though, so maybe we can listen sometime at my place. I do this just in case sex doesn’t happen neither here nor on the hammock. Trying to be more risk-averse.
Like she texted me, her brother also produces music. He’s just getting started. So I inquire as to whether she remembers an exhilarating time when she was doing something new and exciting. She does – when she danced in high school.
That’s interesting. Because I feel like when you keep an open-mind, trusting yourself and other people, these electrifying opportunities really can pop up at any moment. We just have to be ready to thrust ourselves into the thick of it when the time comes. You know what I mean?
She does.
We’re at her dorm.
===2/7, 3:00 AM – Fucking HBMarina
Her shoulder has been up against mine since I came in from outside. I don’t think I’ve looked away from her, either. Arouse and tempt. Risk-aversion.
It’s a suite-style dorm, so she has roommates in the rooms adjacent to hers. A reminder to not be too loud. We go through one more entrance into her room, and we hop up onto the raised bed, sitting next to each other, inches away from contact.
The room itself is rather charming. Lots of pillows and calming décor. White dresser with a mirror you can see from the bed. Pictures of friends and experiences draped on the wall. Homey.
Next to each other, she’s enlivened. Well-aware of what secrets these walls will hold.
I break the silence with my mirror neurons firing.
Me: Remember how I was talking about my friend, Jada?
HBMarina: Yeah!
Me: Well, it has me thinking about something. Pay close attention because I REALLY want to hear your thoughts on this, okay?
HB: Okay!
Me: In society nowadays, isn’t it always so unfair how women are being judged? It’s like as you just want to live your life, day-by-day… you’re just bombarded with these PRESSURES just bearing down on you like a boulder on your back… you know, that social media post and that poster girl standard that you have to live up to, right?
HB: I mean they all use filters – it’s not a level playing field. That’s why I try to stay off of Instagram. It’s all about attention and so negative!
Me: Exactly… the people we see on social media just… aren’t real. What’s real is when we step outside of the norm… marching to the beat of our own drum… because what’s truly real… is when we realize the value of connecting with someone face-to-face… like we are now. THAT’S when the boulder of judgement is lifted off our back… when our minds can truly be free…
HB: Yeah, I agree! But it’s not just the women who have to deal with this. It’s the men, too.
Me: You know… that’s really intriguing. I’ve never head anyone say this before… what do you mean? Like really flesh it out…
HB: I guess it’s just that I’m a very caring person. I want to be a nurse, so I try to pay attention to things like this because it can be super stressful for people. Men are just like women in that they have to act a certain way and dress a certain way. You see how all the fraternities are. Everyone feels the pressure to be the same! That feeling is everywhere for everyone, really.
Me: That feeling is everywhere for everyone… that’s so true and very insightful. So how do you think we could escape from these pressures together? Not caring what anyone else thinks and trusting our emotions that we feel… deep inside?
HB: Yeah!
Me: And you want to be a nurse, so you’re really caring and perceptive of people. Seeing people being happy is kind of what really gets you going. I can tell that you’re really selfless, so you want people to feel free and completely relaxed like we’re talking about… doing fun things without inhibition. Since you’re always so focused on other people’s happiness, does anyone ever tell you that sometimes… you should be focused on YOUR happiness… YOUR fulfillment… YOUR satisfaction?
HB (smiling – she’s ready): I do get that a lot!
HBMarina: Yeah!
Me: Well, it has me thinking about something. Pay close attention because I REALLY want to hear your thoughts on this, okay?
HB: Okay!
Me: In society nowadays, isn’t it always so unfair how women are being judged? It’s like as you just want to live your life, day-by-day… you’re just bombarded with these PRESSURES just bearing down on you like a boulder on your back… you know, that social media post and that poster girl standard that you have to live up to, right?
HB: I mean they all use filters – it’s not a level playing field. That’s why I try to stay off of Instagram. It’s all about attention and so negative!
Me: Exactly… the people we see on social media just… aren’t real. What’s real is when we step outside of the norm… marching to the beat of our own drum… because what’s truly real… is when we realize the value of connecting with someone face-to-face… like we are now. THAT’S when the boulder of judgement is lifted off our back… when our minds can truly be free…
HB: Yeah, I agree! But it’s not just the women who have to deal with this. It’s the men, too.
Me: You know… that’s really intriguing. I’ve never head anyone say this before… what do you mean? Like really flesh it out…
HB: I guess it’s just that I’m a very caring person. I want to be a nurse, so I try to pay attention to things like this because it can be super stressful for people. Men are just like women in that they have to act a certain way and dress a certain way. You see how all the fraternities are. Everyone feels the pressure to be the same! That feeling is everywhere for everyone, really.
Me: That feeling is everywhere for everyone… that’s so true and very insightful. So how do you think we could escape from these pressures together? Not caring what anyone else thinks and trusting our emotions that we feel… deep inside?
HB: Yeah!
Me: And you want to be a nurse, so you’re really caring and perceptive of people. Seeing people being happy is kind of what really gets you going. I can tell that you’re really selfless, so you want people to feel free and completely relaxed like we’re talking about… doing fun things without inhibition. Since you’re always so focused on other people’s happiness, does anyone ever tell you that sometimes… you should be focused on YOUR happiness… YOUR fulfillment… YOUR satisfaction?
HB (smiling – she’s ready): I do get that a lot!
Me: Especially when it comes to meeting new people, right? You’re probably always giving your friends advice about this guy and that guy… but what about YOU? I feel like it’s YOUR time, right? You’ve earned it, you DESERVE it. All it takes is a small leap of faith… letting yourself go… relaxing… LIVING IN THE MOMENT… seeing what is in front of you… and going for it.
*I lightly touch her shoulder, making a few small, rhythmic movements. She brings her forehead to mine. Just a little more now…*
Me: And when you DO let yourself go… indulging in the liberation of pleasure… maybe even small little exciting things like… mhmmmmm… touching… and caressing… and kissing… you can develop such strong bonds with other people… and isn’t it so amazing… how quickly things can… escalate?
*I lightly touch her shoulder, making a few small, rhythmic movements. She brings her forehead to mine. Just a little more now…*
Me: And when you DO let yourself go… indulging in the liberation of pleasure… maybe even small little exciting things like… mhmmmmm… touching… and caressing… and kissing… you can develop such strong bonds with other people… and isn’t it so amazing… how quickly things can… escalate?
Lip-to-lip, we are basking in each other’s attention. We needed this. Wanted it.
Her movement is soft yet aggressive. Once her hands begin to glide against my shirt, I pull away. A surprised hot-girl look. Grinning, I tug her shirt into me until she kisses me again.
My own hands begin to prance upon her body. On the outside of her clothing. Then a touch of exposed skin. Then on the outside of her clothing. Then to her hair. Her neck. While her tongue and hands are swirling.
Once my right index finger softly strokes down her inner chest, she moans, moving her lips down to my neck. She wants to claim me with a hickey.
But I’m not here for a hickey.
Letting her think she’ll have her way for a moment, I then gently twirl one hand in her elegant hair and stroke the outer edges of her face with the other. My next move is to teasingly push and pull her away, simultaneously. I do that.
“Absolutely… not.”
“Why, baby, whyyyyy???? Please baby, please let me, I’ll be so good for you, I promise!”
She pleads. Entertaining. A reminder that she’s either 18 or 19 years old, both a highly desirable women yet largely a young girl.
Also, she has clearly displayed traits of a blend between the SUB and OCP archetypes. Based off her texts, I had an inkling this was the case… and she’s proving it right now. I like this. A lot.
With my hands still in the same positions, I yank her down under me so she now lays with her head on the pillow. A little girly sound. I smooth my hands through her hair, thumbs resting near her temples. Eye-gazing.
“You need to trust me, okay, HBMarina? Trust me. Trust me. Know that you can let go now. As my fingertips graze along your body, you’ll feel… relaxed… freed… liberated… and all of your problems like school… friends… COVID… will drift away like a balloon up into the sky… and you can entirely stop thinking about anything except for how much pleasure I’m going to give you.”
Moan. I lift up her chin and begin kissing her neck. She’s already squirming and asking for more. So I stick a finger in her mouth to help her with that. “I’ll take care of you, baby,” I assure her.
Not long after this, I tell her to lift up her arms. The faded blue top flies off, revealing a red lace bra and rather sumptuous breasts. I take off my jacket and shirt as well. Leaning down on her, I run more sex talk while caressing her to make her wet as a waterslide.
I go with versions of the Good/Bad Sex, 8 Orgasms, Mental G-Spot, and Submissiveness gambits. It was quite delightful to see her immense arousal with sex talk during foreplay. After reading this thread, I subscribed to Major Mark’s free Renegade Hypnotist newsletter where he’s noted to always just keep talking to a girl when intimate. Keeping her focus on you and her pleasure. So it’s fun to get creative with sex talk, in addition to pacing her, during this closeness.
20 minutes of sensual foreplay eases by... slowly. I am working very, very... slowly. Acclimatizing her to my tongue and touch.
Now one Lofty hand latches onto her bra, pulling it town and teasing her left nipple. But just for a second. Then the bra comes back on to her astonishment. A trick from Sex God.
“I don’t think you’re quite ready for that, yet, baby.”
“I promise you I am, Lofty! I am ready, please please please! I am ready for soooooo much more. I’ll be soooooo good for you. I’ll do anything you want! I want you inside of me. Please fuck me, Daddy!”
Oh. Is that right. Things are about to get very fun. Also, I don’t like to be called Daddy. Makes me feel weird. It doesn’t sound erotic to me, and we’re around the same age, anyway.
So I gently slap her. Put my hands around her neck. Groan animalistically into her ear. Whisper something much more suitable, if she does want to refer to me as something besides what she believes is my name, which isn't even my real name at all.
“You will refer to me as Master. HBMarina, you will be a good little slut for me and do anything that I ask. You will obey me. Submit to me. Tell me that you submit to me.”
“I submit to you, Master…”
Ah, yes. Soothing words to my horny, kinky ears.
How things can change in just an instant.
I command her to remove her pants. The black-and-white striped pants fly off, revealing a red lace thong. A matching set. Just for me.
Without saying anything, I put her hands on my belt. She hurriedly undoes it, and unzips the jeans. I do the rest, so they’re off. She tells me how hot I am. Cool.
Now, I graze my fingertips all around her thighs and lower abdomen. Her cute little hands are grasping for my boxers. I slap them away, shoving them onto her bra. Take it off and hand it to me.
Obedient girl.
The red lace bra is tossed onto the ground. Her nipples are extremely enticing. I do believe they require a good licking.
As my tongue meets her sumptuous nipples, two of my fingers are abruptly stuffed into her soaking-wet pussy, with the other hand ripping the thong off so it joins its matching bra on the floor.
A glorious shriek.
It’s Niagara Falls down there. And of course, I tell her all about it.
Using techniques learned from in10se’s Secret Principles of Pleasure – recommended to me by Dreamer – I extensively tease the fuck out of her pussy, clit, nipples, and body at large for about 30 more minutes while keeping the caressing and talking going. Eventually, my dick comes out. But I don’t allow her to touch it.
Once I know that she’s had her fill of moans and pleasure, I decide it’s time to move things forward around an hour into foreplay with an anti-climactic twist.
Me: Do you know what I REALLY want to do to you, baby?
HBMarina: What would you like to do to me, Master?
Me: You’re such a good little girl for me, baby. Listen carefully. I want to take your arms… and tie them up with a belt behind your back. So you can’t move them… at all… without my permission. And then I want to pin you down… HARD… and pull your hair… HARD… and choke you… HARD… while sensually kissing every… single… inch… of your little girl body… moving the energy of my touch down… and down… and down your body… until I’m carefully circling around… and around your clit.. all 8,000 sensitive nerve endings of your clit…
Me: And then do you know what I’ll do next to my little girl?
HB: Will you fuck me?
Me: NO. I will put my clothes back on, turn off the lights, and go to sleep.
HB: What?!!? Noooooooo. You have to fuck me. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE fuck me. I’ll do aaaaaaanything!
*I slap her... gently*
Me: I decide when I want to fuck my little girl. Open your mouth.
HB: Yes, Master…
*I fill her mouth with my dick, then reach for a condom in my nearby bag*
HBMarina: What would you like to do to me, Master?
Me: You’re such a good little girl for me, baby. Listen carefully. I want to take your arms… and tie them up with a belt behind your back. So you can’t move them… at all… without my permission. And then I want to pin you down… HARD… and pull your hair… HARD… and choke you… HARD… while sensually kissing every… single… inch… of your little girl body… moving the energy of my touch down… and down… and down your body… until I’m carefully circling around… and around your clit.. all 8,000 sensitive nerve endings of your clit…
Me: And then do you know what I’ll do next to my little girl?
HB: Will you fuck me?
Me: NO. I will put my clothes back on, turn off the lights, and go to sleep.
HB: What?!!? Noooooooo. You have to fuck me. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE fuck me. I’ll do aaaaaaanything!
*I slap her... gently*
Me: I decide when I want to fuck my little girl. Open your mouth.
HB: Yes, Master…
*I fill her mouth with my dick, then reach for a condom in my nearby bag*
“I want you inside of me, Lofty… I want you inside of me so badly…”
The time has come. After all this teasing and foreplay, I will conquest this beautiful girl who is yearning to take my cock. All these approaches… have paid off. She’s… all mine.
However.
I can’t get my dick in her really tight pussy. And you guys know my story. I’m acting experienced, but I’m just not at all experienced. I’m trying to get it in, and as I’m trying, my dick softens to about 75% with the condom on. That makes it even worse.
She starts apologizing profusely for how tight her pussy is, but I reassure her. Not the time to be all dominant Lofty – this is my fault. She’s really calm with it, and just encourages me to relax. Asks me to sit-up against the wall. I don’t like the aesthetic of her asking me to do something, but it’s time to be human and not a fucking BDSM overlord. We both want to fuck.
So after giving her a look, I methodically lean against the wall. She sits up, too, and begins to drape herself over me. Pushing the womanly softness of her body against me. Starts licking my ear and whispering…
“Relax, love… relax. It’s okay. It’s late, and you’re tired. You’re just here squeezed onto a twin-sized bed, and you’re using a condom… I actually really want you to take the condom off…”
Yeah… that’s nice. HOLD ON WTF IS SHE PACING ME?
“You’re right, baby… help me relax. I’ll use a condom, baby – it’s for you, not for me. Help me relax now…”
HBMarina smiles and nods. Pushes her tits up against me, simultaneously beginning to hypnotically shake her hips while sitting on my lap. She moves quite well.
Then after a few moments, she starts grinding her pussy so fucking insanely all over my dick. The visual stimulation is so intense that a raging erection returns.
With an extremely satisfied look on her face, she puts a handle on my dick and slides it into her waterslide of a pussy.
Oh… fuck. Getting soft was one of the scariest moments of my life, but she’s a real pro.
Now riding my dick like crazy. Bouncing her ass and just loving it.
But I’ve never had a girl ride me before, let alone like some fucking wild girl rodeo. I try to initiate the slow, sensual thrusting method taught by the Eros Technique videos I’ve watched, but I keep feeling like she’s going to break my dick.
We are not in-sync.
The girl is having tons of fun, though. Building her anticipation and focusing on foreplay definitely worked!
As for me, I really don’t feel much. Years of masturbation and the condom, yeah. I don’t mind, truthfully – I like pleasuring her and enjoy the mental sensations just as much, if not more, than the physical ones. Plus, I know that especially after a few weeks of the exercises from The Multi-Orgasmic Man that I’m in full control of my ejaculations.
After a few minutes of me just not harmonizing with her rhythm, she makes too sudden of a movement and I slip out of her. Which results in her body landing on my dick. Noticing me wince, she becomes extremely apologetic – oh my god I hurt you, I’m so so sorry – but I don’t give it much thought.
What I do give thought is that I’d much rather be in control, even though I highly appreciate her working with me so consummately.
When she tries to kiss me, I grab a handful of her hair. Then pull her head down to my chest and press it down.
“You will get back on me and obey every single fucking word I say. Do you understand me, HBMarina?”
“Yes, Master,” she enthusiastically recites.
And after a slight moment of her kissing my chest, she gets back on. This time, I have a better sense of how to do this.
I thrust up to her moan.
“Now pleasure yourself,” I say.
She goes crazy.
Stop.
Obedient girl.
I slowly come down while staring in her eyes and chanting, “Now… slow.. controlled movements…”
And we get very sensual. I tell her to match my breaths. In and out. Slowly. Controlled breaths.
Then I abruptly thrust up again for five seconds while she pleasures herself.
Next, slow, controlled movements. Repeat.
There we have the Eros Technique in effect.
We fuck like this for probably 15 minutes while I take the liberty of teasing her clit and nipples. Her hands flying through my hair. Clenching my hair. Harder and harder. Feeling her pussy become an unrelenting grip on my dick.
I know she’s been getting off. I decide that it’s time to put her into adapted missionary to drive her crazier.
I gently direct her body so she tumbles over, thinking that I’ll stay inside her, too. Maybe that was a dumb notion because I slip out.
And I can never get hard enough with a condom on to get back in.
Sigh.
When I’ve read about ED issues, I had trouble understanding them. I didn’t know how it was possible with a naked girl wanting to be penetrated. Yet, now I do. I already noticed weaker erections in recent months - presumably due to porn usage that I’ve now quit entirely – but this was extremely discouraging. I fear that these issues will follow me…
She enjoyed the dicking, however, and wants more. Starts calling me “love” again, trying to get me to relax. Laying on top of me. Twerking on me. Grinding. It’s very hot and erotic. But my dick can’t get past 70% with the condom and that’s not good enough. Maybe the condom was too tight, and that wasn’t helping?
On top of that, something unexpected happens. She’s kissing me, absolutely worshipping my body… when suddenly…
A drop of blood splatters on my chest.
What?
Yes, blood on my chest.
From my FUCKING NOSE.
My nose starts bleeding. Seriously, body?
However, HBMarina stays calm, saying that it’s okay and she won’t judge me. Thanks, I guess. She goes and gets a handful of tissues. There we are, with me lying naked, nose bleeding, in a hot girl’s bed, while she stands to my side and hands me tissues.
Not only that, but I’ve completely dominated this really hot girl who months ago would’ve seemed like just an extravagant dream. Like, I had her BEGGING to be fucked. BY ME.
If you haven’t given this seduction thing a try, I’d highly recommend it.
Moreover, I’m in the dorm where I was almost arrested just months ago.
And now a hot naked girl is handing me tissues.
It’s cosmic.
An influx of emotions. I start laughing. “What?” she worriedly inquires.
“Nothing,” I respond. “This is your bed. You shouldn’t be standing. Sit down with me and let’s talk.”
She smiles and jumps on the bed, resting next to me with her hands stroking my legs. It’s true that we escalated to sex very quickly. We need this, too. She asks some social frame stuff. I ask what is one thing that she really likes to do besides eating, sleeping, and partying? A blush. I guess why. It’s masturbation. I have her describe how she loves to masturbate with a vibrator, and she asks if I want to use it on her. Maybe, I say. She follows by saying that we’ll be spending plenty of time together, so we'll have plenty of opportunities to try things, including how she has dreamed of being fucked while tied-up, collared, and leashed...
I don’t address this. Instead, I ask more imaginative questions. Where she’d go if she could go anywhere, assuming she also won the lottery, of course.
Hawaii, to the beach. Ah, so you can skip around the beach in a bikini, showing off your body, and bask in the sun, feeling the warm of the sun’s rays energizing your skin…
Tells me that she’s never met anyone like me before. That’s what I’ve been wanting to hear.
The only thing I truly want is to give her a sexual experience that she’ll never forget. The type that 10 years from now… when all the mommy-duties are done for the day… that she’ll rub her clit to.
Then I get her talking more about herself. She thoroughly describes her drug usage, and how she got started with them while hanging out in the rural woods with her brothers. Names a bunch of psychedelics that I’ve never heard of, even though she expects that I have. Because for some reason everyone thinks that I do a lot of drugs.
HBMarina: *talks about all the psychedelics she uses and how much she loves them, how they make her feel, etc.*
Me: You know, I don’t use a lot of psychedelics… maybe because I’m not ready to yet, or maybe because I don’t know who I’ll become on them… or maybe because I’m happy with how I feel right now. But I really respect those who do use them in the right ways, and it’s such a shame how society views them so negatively. As that doesn't accurately reflect their scientifically-proven benefits. I actually know some people who study the use of psychedelics, and they say that they can not only help you explore your subconscious but also alleviate past trauma…
HB: I’m SO GLAD you said that! My older brother is actually hoping to study that same thing, but most people don’t think that way…
Me: You know, I don’t use a lot of psychedelics… maybe because I’m not ready to yet, or maybe because I don’t know who I’ll become on them… or maybe because I’m happy with how I feel right now. But I really respect those who do use them in the right ways, and it’s such a shame how society views them so negatively. As that doesn't accurately reflect their scientifically-proven benefits. I actually know some people who study the use of psychedelics, and they say that they can not only help you explore your subconscious but also alleviate past trauma…
HB: I’m SO GLAD you said that! My older brother is actually hoping to study that same thing, but most people don’t think that way…
If you haven’t noticed already, HBMarina is not only HOT and really sexual, but she’s also as cool as fuck.
Even though her behavior is somewhat erratic and probably flirts with that Cluster B spectrum, I know that I’ll want her as the beginning member of my rotation.
After around 15 minutes of bonding, my nose stops bleeding. We go to the sink, chuckling about not wanting to wake up her “innocent” roommates while parading through the shared hallway. She tugs on my necklace asking what it means. I give her my bullshit explanation about how it symbolizes Eternal Justice because of its wavey pendant and the liveliness of the water cycle… she just laughs while I tell her that it’s my necklace and it can mean whatever the fuck I want it to mean. I’ve said this a couple times now and love doing it every time.
When we’re cleaning the blood off my body, she gives a ton of compliments to me. About how I’m so sexy, my abs are so hot, whatever. I remember something in a thread about having a girl detail the three things that she likes most about you, so I think to adapt it here and ask this to her. Her answers are surprising... and telling.
- My verbals. She literally said, “I like how you are verbally.”
- My confidence
- My eye contact
Not the famed triad of looks, mon - you know.
And furthermore, maybe someone reads this and thinks about how she complimented my body, and how other girls have given me compliments lately.
Here’s the thing, though. I’m nothing special genetically. In fact, I've been so sexually underdeveloped that my first kiss wasn’t even until Summer 2019. Beyond my years of puberty. In a situation that would be almost impossible not to get a quick peck out of.
In middle school and high school, I observed the bodies of the girls becoming full and luscious. Hearing the stories of house parties and sex. Pretending to know about it, laughing about it.
Yet, it wasn’t my reality. I befriended the jocks and befriended the alternative kids and befriended the brainiacs. Everyone thought that I was fucking hard, just keeping it on-the-low because no one knew much about my personal life anyway.
The truth was that not only was I never fucking and never kissed, I had only even touched a girl a few times…
So get out of here with all that looks stuff. If YOU are the type of person who believes in that, I will tell you to just work on your fundamentals and cultivate your personal brand.
I read that advice months ago and took it to heart, worked at it. I am far from a good seducer and far from even having a good sex life. There’s a long way for me to go. But I’m beginning to build it.
I’m beginning to build a sex life that I dreamed about… for years… solely with cold approach pickup.
If you’re an incel, a virgin. If you have beliefs holding you back, a heretic.
Read this.
Accept that you know nothing. Scrap all of those beliefs in your head and toss them into the nearest trash can, just like pieces of no-good paper. As you do that, visualize the life you want to live, and set out to build it piece-by-piece.
You can join me as we try to do this together…
These are the thoughts flashing in my mind as HBMarina escorts me back into her room, giggling. I glide my hands from the outer lips of her pussy, to her hips, to her sparkling belly-button ring, to her bouncy tits, to the erect nipples, around and around her erect nipples, and onto her shoulders, eye-gazing. I push down.
“On your knees.”
“Yes, Master…”
She goes down, her hazel eyes looking up at me.
“I want you to worship every inch of my body. Kiss every inch of my body. If you do a good enough job like I know you can do, I’ll let you suck my cock… and maybe even let you taste my cum.”
Excitement. The rush of losing control. The thrill of only having pleasure on her mind. The fantasy of the submissive girl to please, intensified by a supreme lack of validation…
The bombshell is on all fours now. I feel that luxuriant, ombré hair sweep against my toes as she kisses my left foot, bubble butt raised high in the air. Amusing.
My baby girl.
She performs how I asked. Quite nicely like I knew she could. Back on her knees, bountiful tits staring at me just like her expectant eyes. Awaiting the verdict.
“You are allowed to lick my cock, but you are not allowed to put it in your mouth.”
Whether she is thrilled or disappointed, I do not know. My eyes roll back as I feel a moist vehicle excitedly going to town along the sides of my member. Channeling these percolating sensations up through my spine. Harnessing the sexuality in my brain. Trying to keep my mouth closed.
“Does it feel good for you? Please tell me! I just want you to feel sooooooo good…”
I look down upon the alluring sight. Viscerality takes over.
A handful of hair being pulled. Two fingers of my other hand sloshing around her mouth, her tongue struggling to swirl around them. I extract my fingers dripping with saliva and reach for my belt sprawled off to the side. Shove her face into my groin as I pull her arms behind her back and tie them up. Restrained.
Give her a look. A grin. She doesn’t know what’s next.
I do.
I pull her lips open and thrust my raging cock into her soft, wet mouth.
Sounds of release for both of us.
Perhaps if she wasn’t so focused on taking my dick down her throat, she’d notice that I’m almost in tears.
All those cold nights approaching on the streets. Feeling the brisk wind against my skin.
Remembering that feeling of trepidation in my gut as I did my first approaches, hardly able to move my mouth and feet.
How I scribbled that written statement in front of that jerk of a cop. How I went to the police station and spoke to the investigator. How he told me that he knew I was telling the truth, how it was all on video, how he gave me a fist bump and told me to be more careful.
The way my entire body shook when doing my first TRE session.
A visualization of cleansing HBWildflower’s bloodied face with my undershirt. Her outstretched arms as she adjusts my hairband.
Going to the STD clinic, taking all those rounds of antibiotics for the infection, then in the following weeks catching mono, lying motionless in bed.
Reading gambits, reading nextasf, reality-pacing, meta-pacing, feeling inspiration, writing words of my own.
The clenching grip of that addiction to porn, knowing that my future as a seducer was slowly slipping away.
Quitting that, teaching myself how to separate ejaculation from orgasm, stimulating myself only with the erotic images of my own fantasies.
And finally the swirling rolodex of profile pictures, of names, of words, of chat messages, of red alerts, of email notifications, of ellipses, of strangers on the Internet who have become so not strangers at all and have helped a random novice far more than anyone has helped me in real life... of skilledseducer.com.
“Good girl.”
===2/7, 9:00 AM – Post-Sex
HBMarina pushed herself, and my dick, a little too far. Well, part of it was me facefucking her. I did get a little too lively, admittedly. She began to gag and had to pull away just as I was about to cum.
Enter an almost comical scene when I’m hurriedly asking if she’s okay, she’s gagging, and I’m ejaculating all over her face.
I did feel really bad about this, but she didn't seem to mind much - instead, she cutely tried to catch my cum with her tongue. I made sure to give her lots of cuddles afterwards and made sure she knew how proud I was of her. While I frustratingly still couldn’t get inside of her again with a condom, we had our fill of satisfaction. And my dick had no trouble getting hard enough again to cum all over her tits as she pleaded and pleaded for a second dousing, so I’m functional… but will need to take every precaution in the future.
After that, I gave her my full attention for the rest of our time in bed. Doing my best to do a Major Mark, well, at least without ever having studied hypnosis... I whisper into her ear, being ever-so sensual with her body and pussy, bringing her eyes to a glaze.
It was a weird moment when her speech become slurred, and she had trouble describing how her pussy felt. But she eventually muttered how it never felt so tight before. And it was very tight. A clamp on my two fingers. I responded by fingering at her G-Spot, telling her all about the different parts of the vagina…
As the sun rose, we were still both obsessed with each other’s tongue but becoming quite tired. We decided that we’d save the hammocking trip for next time as the lake was a 30-minute drive… and it was just so nice lying in bed together. She became a little upset with me after finding out that I didn’t bring a hammock – was I just here for sex?
No, no… I thought her hammock would be big enough for both of us. This is the complete truth. I whip out my speaker, turn on my playlist, and trace around her lips as those concerns washed away… and we briefly stepped outside to bring in the new day, hand-in-hand. "Your pupils are so dilated when you look at me," she observes.
“Yours, too.. what do you think that means about us?”
We were quite passionate overall. Almost the entire time from 3:00 AM to 9:00 AM, we were tongue-to-tongue.
I could tell that she was getting very sleepy, but I also knew that she wasn’t going to ask me to leave. There’s a momentary consideration of falling asleep with her in the dorm, though I see the nervous look on her face as we hear her roommates stirring in the adjacent rooms.
So I make the call to leave as she makes a pouty-face. I pack up my belongings, including my special white shirt that caught a splattering of blood. However, I can’t find my little cloth pouch of condoms. She actually asks me if I need any more. That devilish grin, and I say that, no, I’m good for now.
We tip-toe out of her room as I feel my jacket rub against my bare chest. What is it with me and bloody shirts and crazy girls and left-behind thongs and left-behind condoms…
Make-out in the hallway. Make-out in the elevator. Make-out at the exit.
And we’re back where we began.
On my long walk back to my apartment, I’m not sure how to feel. I feel accomplished yet slightly detached, and I do wish we would have gone to the lake. But she was so amazing and couldn’t keep her hands off of me, either. Another happy customer, I think. That’s what matters most.
I stop at the store and buy a birthday-cake flavored protein cookie, a vanilla bean protein shake, and a bagel. Walking and eating, walking and thinking.
The cold air tingles, enticing yet calming. Alert and sleepy. How I feel.
When the key turns into my door, I remember to send that wonderful post-sex text message of soreness.
I wearily tear my clothes off, throw my bloody shirt in the washer, and step into the shower for a rinse. The aromatic smell of pussy is all over me. I notice teeth marks on my right hand. Charming. Good girl, pretty girl.2/7, 9:47 AM
Me: got some food, now back at my place. had a great time with you, hope you’re not too sore
Drying away the droplets of water on my worn body, I fall into my own bed. Drifting away into an erotic slumber, the thoughts of which become more and more of a reality every single day.
I sleep into the night. Longer than I expected. I miss most of the Super Bowl, but I don’t care because spending time with HBMarina was much better. It was a terrible game anyway. Finally, I glance at my phone in the anticipation of messages from the girl who I think might be my first fuckbuddy and even first relationship.
Those green icons appear on my screen, but only one is as expected.
I can’t help but smile at the first message. “Like you told me.” I did tell her that she should relax and get some sleep. She didn’t have to drive me home, I said – I’d be okay walking. My baby2/7, 4:18 PM
HBMarina: Okay good. I felt bad not driving you home but I went to sleep like you told me
2/7, 5:27 PM
HBMarina: I know it may have seemed as though I liked you being so dominant with me, but you were so forceful and aggressive Lofty, like I was not expecting that
And my baby is sore. A job well done! This makes me so happy!
But that second text message… whaaaat?
A moment later, I get it. She recongizes how much she enjoyed me dominating her and is having trouble accepting it in reflection. She feels… slutty.
Oh no.
When I was being all Major Mark with her, I did mention how liberated – both sexually and mentally – I thought she was. Besides that, I didn’t do much else post-sex to prevent these feelings. In addition, I didn’t validate her body AT ALL – only her thoughts and actions. Gunwitch style, and it worked amazingly. She always kept seeking my validation, even pleading for it!
Although, I dominated her pret-ty heavily there. She loved every second. No objections, and she was the one who called me “Daddy” first. Thought that gave me the green-light to start getting kinky. It’s still important to note that it’s not like I was tying her up Shibari-style and whipping her or anything… just mental challenges of submission. I tried to find her fantasies and help her live them. An escape into dreamland with Lofty.
I also remembered a nextasf thread linked by Skills one time. In that link, a member named November referenced some dynamic called the “subdrop” where the submissive enters this depleted state after being dominated. It’s your responsibility to help her through it. Cuddle with her, talk with her, feed her chocolate.
Oh no.
We cuddled and talked, but it felt like it was part of the sex. The entire encounter was pretty much sex. Almost every minute. Additionally, we didn’t follow through on the plausible deniability of watching the sunrise at the lake.
Oh no.
The picture is coming together in my mind.
She probably was super excited to send that first text when she woke up. Then she reminisced, and maybe even talked to her friends about it. Maybe HBThorn. Imagine that conversation!
OMG I hung out with that Lofty guy you set me up with! He was super cool! Thank you!!!!!
Super glad to hear it! How was sunrise at the lake?
Oh, we actually didn’t go…
Really? So what did you do?
Well, we listened to music, and kissed a little bit...
Did you guys have sex? Was he good?
Haha he was so different! He had this seductive way of talking and was super dominant!
Dominant? Like Fifty Shades of Grey shit? Did he slap you? DO WE NEED TO CALL THE POLICE???!?!?!
Yeah I mean he did slap me, but it was gentle. And we really were into it…
THAT MOTHERFUCKER. WE WILL EXPOSE HIS MYSOGYNISTIC ASS ON TWITTER.
Above all, I felt terrible that I didn’t have that post-sex conversation with her to make sure that she knew how much I appreciated her. That it was all just fun kink. I felt like she would know that because I was way more sensual and loving than I was dominant, but maybe she wasn’t as sexually experienced as I thought?
Yeah, I was quickly seeing that I made mistakes post-sex. Feeling terrified that I made this wonderful girl feel slutty. That’s not what we want to do as seducers. That’s the opposite of what we want to do. I felt like I failed her.
As I see them, my mistakes include the following:
At this moment is when I should have asked for help.
There are many people in the community who WANT to help me. For some reason, maybe because I wanted to prove that Big Bad Lofty Who Just Got His Dick Sucked could fix this, I compose an over-reacted text message without asking for any input. That was my worst mistake of all.
Ooof. Probably could have just said something like:
Making it a non-issue. However, the text that I did send made it a MASSIVE ISSUE. That pretty much ended it. Screenshot that, put it in the sorority group chat, and Lofty gets roasted like a chicken dinner. “are you free right now?” What? Does he want more sex? Does this guy ONLY want sex? Motherfucking fuckboy.oh im so sorry if i pushed you too far baby. i thought you were completely into it! next time i won’t do any of that and we’ll cuddle more. promise
I meant free to text or call… because it was actually concerning me. A lot. I couldn't even sleep that night.
Then everything BLOWS THE FUCK UP IN MY FACE. So much for Witch 15...
Oh fucking facepalm. I knew I’d never see her again at this point barring an otherworldly recovery, if I even would want to see her now. Also, fuck porn. And again, look at her first post-sex text to me. That says it all.
She was happy like she was happy our entire time together...2/7, 4:18 PM
HBMarina: Okay good. I felt bad not driving you home but I went to sleep like you told me
Okay, yes. Sunrise and hammocking. Should’ve done that. Agreed and noted. I TOLD YOU THAT I THOUGHT YOUR HAMMOCK WOULD BE BIG ENOUGH FOR BOTH. OF. US.
Okay, didn’t want to hook up? Hey, this means that at least I did that blurring thing correctly! I think?
Come on, though, she maybe wanted it EVEN MORE THAN ME. She let me into her dorm room at 3:00 AM. She offered to drive over to my place alone. She wore matching red lace undergarments! Repeatedly begged to be fucked. Puh-lease.
Okay, “submissive person” thing. You called me “Daddy” first. I only said, “Call me Master” because I hate “Daddy.” Or else I wouldn’t have done it. You were completely into it. No objections, ever. Amplified it, even. The entire time. You literally bowed down and kissed my feet and thanked me for the opportunity. Come. On. I know you liked cumming when I was whispering romantic things in your ear, but you sure as hell liked it when I tied up your arms, too…
Still, I know that I should've talked to her post-sex about the kinky stuff. That’s all my fault. All on me. My responsibility. Was a mistake, yes.
I could tell she misworded that and didn't mean it quite in that way. But you know what. You were lustily devouring my tongue and cock. WE MADE OUT FOR SIX HOURS STRAIGHT.
That’s not cool to even tangentially bring up. Ever. Super hot and we had a great time. But not cool, HBMarina. Not cool.
Especially after that last comment, I knew it would be the end of our fling. I get the overall premise from her perspective. Absolutely. I made her feel slutty and made some mistakes. That’s my fault - I was too ambitious. But did she handle this the right way…?
I dunno. Anyway, I don’t care about anything other than addressing every single one of her points.
So yeah, I wrote a ton. Like I said, I know I’ll never see her again. It doesn’t matter except for making us both feel better. The vibe of her next text does improve.
Alright. I think I get it. She feels a little slutty in reflection because I guess she tried a lot of new things that she fantasized about. Since I didn't raise her state post-sex, and even though she's a highly intelligent person, she became susceptible to rationalizing those emotions in false ways. Trying to associate them with something.
Yeah, I wish I dialed it back a bit. But again, she was super into ALL of it and only advanced the kinky stuff forward. I probably wasn't ready for a lot of that, either, with my inexperience. Too ambitious, Lofty. And I don't know how excited I can be to get kinky after that. It surely dampens my excitement about it. Also, fuck porn.
She responded pretty much right away here, which I didn’t notice and should have kept that going to get out all of the feels right there. Might as well see if this could get this fully recovered, although it is clearly doubtful. I try to do one of those vulnerability texting things.
A little cringe. Actually, a lot cringe. Yeah, messed that up.2/9, 12:30 AM
Me: sorry for the delayed response. but yes I completely understand and agree with all of your points. our chemistry and vibe was DEFINITELY there but our communication was a little off, especially on my end. i feel horrible that we didn’t spend the same time getting to know each other’s minds like we got to know each other’s bodies. sorry about that part, for real! personally it has been a punch to the gut because i take a lot of pride in my intimacy with a woman. i hope you saw that. i thought you were happy while we were together and even when sending your first text later in the day. otherwise i would’ve addressed all of this immediately!
Me: like imagine you’re me and you think that you had an amazing experience with an exciting, thoughtful girl who was smiling and playful the entire time. an extremely unique girl who has very deep thoughts and is a sensational lover. you warmly drift off into thinking how much fun you had and there’s that excitement of a new, special bond... and suddenly it’s like, “wait... what? did i push her too much?”
Me: but you know what HBMarina? these are actually really easy fixes. if we were to ever see each other again, we just talk more. just chill more. maybe even try to keep our hands off of each other for a bit, even though that might be a little difficult
Reasonably posed but fundamentally... a little irritating.
I hate that I even made a girl view me this way. At this point, I almost wished that it never happened.
Definitely should’ve just ended this conversation on my terms now, but I didn’t.
Yikes... I was trying to work it back to her agreeing with this, so we'd set up a more casual meet-up and clarify things more because I was still quite bothered by it. Should've just said forget about it and wished her well.
Aaaaaand that’s all she wrote with HBMarina. I’m glad that we’re good in the end, but I can't help but feel disappointed and regretful about the way it ended.
Overall, that entire text conversation could’ve been bypassed. We’d see each other again. Talk a little. Bang. No issue.
I made it a big problem, and lost her because of it. I fell into her frame and dug a deep hole. Allowed her to probably talk to her friends, giving her tons of negative feedback.
It’s just a shame. I know I made some mistakes post-sex, and if I never saw her again, I’d completely understand and be fine with that.
The worst part is losing that feeling of what she said to me. Things like, as HBWildflower put it, I feel like you’ll be the guy that I’ll think back on and never forget…
With every other girl I fuck, I promise she will feel that way not only during sex but afterwards, too.
===2/15, 12:27 PM – Reflection #2
Life is life.
The world is the world.
Good things happen, and bad things happen.
But in your life, does the good outweigh the bad?
Can this scale be tilted further to the side that YOU want?
I think so.
Humans have agency. Choice. Action.
I worked hard for awesome sex with a hot girl. A couple lay reports now. My life has been changed, even though I still have a long way to go. I’m way better than I was in August. I understand things more, and I have so many crazy zany insane amazing erotic lovely experiences packed into a few months.
It feels really cool to say this.
So what that I lost a girl post-sex. You know what, I think she’ll be lying in bed one day with that vibrator she told me about. Her hands will drift down, and her thoughts, well, maybe, just maybe, they won’t be of Chode #17… but they’ll be of me…
I understand that societal pressures contributed to her feeling slutty after we had so much fun together. It was my responsibility to alleviate her from that, and I didn’t. I do feel like I failed her in a way. I'll be better next time and every time afterwards.
Now that the passionate heat and eventful aftermath has sailed away. Only happy memories remain. That’s why, right now, I was finally able to write this report instead of lying in my bed… thinking about it… thinking about her…
After My Little Wildflower, Bacchus told me that scarcity creates an illusory sense of value. Remember there will always be another lay.
I knew he was right, of course, but it was hard to truly believe it at the time… for me. Is it really possible that I, Lofty, can always have another lay?
Yep.
I believe it now.
if you don't already, you should believe this about yourself, too.
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