My latest date, yesterday evening, I was very pleased with. Overall, it represented an ascendancy of the level of quality I've been able to pull. To be concise, I tried to make the best impression I could, within the scope of the couple of hours it went on for, all the while keeping certain things in mind . . . such as not really giving a fuck at all as to how it turns out, to be realistic as to the likelihood of it going anywhere, and perhaps most predominantly of all, to just have fun with it.
There was very little physical escalation throughout the bulk of the event, given her rather introverted body language, but the eye contact was quite strong, with me holding a stretch for a time, until she'd either demurely glance to one side or downward. Personality-wise, we really seemed to connect.
After 2 hours, I walked her to her car, all the while, her arms folded, and so I relented on attempting to ramp up my standardized escalation template, other than a very subtle graze on the forearm or touch of the lower back.
We crossed a major intersection and approached her car, where I paused there to see her off, by this point having just about dismissed this gal as any kind of a prospect. She turns to me to offer an embrace, to which I reciprocate . . . but then, given how she gazes at me, her face close to mine, it seemed as though she was beckoning me for something more. And, in turn, I felt as though it was my job to provide that. I kissed her softly, and in the midst of such, she clearly had yet to be satisfied, so right there on the side of the street where she was parked, we engage in a tremendously passionate makeout, our hands all over each other. The whole ordeal went along in intervals, by where I'd pull back a bit, stare into her eyes, look over her body, and we'd start the whole thing over. We'd kiss for a half minute or more, back away, break the embrace, and go at it again. Could've been a full 15 rounds of this, with her making a feeble attempt at finishing up to leave, but she'd just stand there, and I'd be hangin' back, ready to let her go, but she'd linger, so I'd pull her in for another round, feeling her ass, kissing her neck, holding her so close.
I made a gentle push toward inviting myself into her place, which was nearby, but she softly declined, after which, we parted ways, and only so reluctantly.
Crossing back over the street, I recall feeling quite pleased, especially given I almost bailed on this one. Still, a thought that held prominence was how even the most advanced levels of escalation can simply not mean anything to these chicks. I think it's very easy and natural for the average dude to walk away from something like that thinking he's really got something special there . . .
Later that night, I get this text . . .
Hey, I just gotta come out and be honest with you because that is best. Dinner
was nice, but when we were at my car I was feeling awkward. I was kind of
going with the flow of things, because that's how I am, but I actually don't think
I should have kissed you or kept going because I wasn't really ready. And I
apologize, I am wierd for just letting things happen. I hate to be a downer now
but Im not feeling this and don't forsee a future, so sorry for the confusion.
Even being ready for it, the pang of disappointment gnawed sharply within me. My response . . .
'k
Tossing the phone aside, I said to myself, "I just can't do this anymore." Now, before anyone here slams me with Abundance Mentality, Oneitis, and all that shit, let me make it clear that I 100% subscribe to the maxim, "She's replaceable", but in recent times, I've been thinking, "Yeah, she's replaceable, all right . . . but with what?" Another 1st date to nowhere? I've simply yet to be able to fully condition myself to completely dismiss any tendency to want to bond with these women, as immensely foolish of a notion that it really is.
There was very little physical escalation throughout the bulk of the event, given her rather introverted body language, but the eye contact was quite strong, with me holding a stretch for a time, until she'd either demurely glance to one side or downward. Personality-wise, we really seemed to connect.
After 2 hours, I walked her to her car, all the while, her arms folded, and so I relented on attempting to ramp up my standardized escalation template, other than a very subtle graze on the forearm or touch of the lower back.
We crossed a major intersection and approached her car, where I paused there to see her off, by this point having just about dismissed this gal as any kind of a prospect. She turns to me to offer an embrace, to which I reciprocate . . . but then, given how she gazes at me, her face close to mine, it seemed as though she was beckoning me for something more. And, in turn, I felt as though it was my job to provide that. I kissed her softly, and in the midst of such, she clearly had yet to be satisfied, so right there on the side of the street where she was parked, we engage in a tremendously passionate makeout, our hands all over each other. The whole ordeal went along in intervals, by where I'd pull back a bit, stare into her eyes, look over her body, and we'd start the whole thing over. We'd kiss for a half minute or more, back away, break the embrace, and go at it again. Could've been a full 15 rounds of this, with her making a feeble attempt at finishing up to leave, but she'd just stand there, and I'd be hangin' back, ready to let her go, but she'd linger, so I'd pull her in for another round, feeling her ass, kissing her neck, holding her so close.
I made a gentle push toward inviting myself into her place, which was nearby, but she softly declined, after which, we parted ways, and only so reluctantly.
Crossing back over the street, I recall feeling quite pleased, especially given I almost bailed on this one. Still, a thought that held prominence was how even the most advanced levels of escalation can simply not mean anything to these chicks. I think it's very easy and natural for the average dude to walk away from something like that thinking he's really got something special there . . .
Later that night, I get this text . . .
Hey, I just gotta come out and be honest with you because that is best. Dinner
was nice, but when we were at my car I was feeling awkward. I was kind of
going with the flow of things, because that's how I am, but I actually don't think
I should have kissed you or kept going because I wasn't really ready. And I
apologize, I am wierd for just letting things happen. I hate to be a downer now
but Im not feeling this and don't forsee a future, so sorry for the confusion.
Even being ready for it, the pang of disappointment gnawed sharply within me. My response . . .
'k
Tossing the phone aside, I said to myself, "I just can't do this anymore." Now, before anyone here slams me with Abundance Mentality, Oneitis, and all that shit, let me make it clear that I 100% subscribe to the maxim, "She's replaceable", but in recent times, I've been thinking, "Yeah, she's replaceable, all right . . . but with what?" Another 1st date to nowhere? I've simply yet to be able to fully condition myself to completely dismiss any tendency to want to bond with these women, as immensely foolish of a notion that it really is.