During the last post, I spoke (among a variety of things) about the range of choices seemingly available to the modern man. As we grow older & more tired, particularly for those among us who truly go to town on whatever itch we felt like scratching, the remaining options appear to become less appealing.
The weekend with Venezuelan was good. She was kind & affectionate as always, we did a variety of activites, had lots of sex & exchanged some truly heartfelt moments. I do really feel as though she loves me & I like looking after her.
I can’t always fully relax with her because of my other activities when we are apart. I know she has a good memory, so white lies have to be consistent. Plus although there should be nothing at all of my concern due to me slowly erasing my online footprint, a sense of dread looms over me when I see her not being her normal chirpy self. It’s probably just me being paranoid of course, after undergoing constant online investigation with The Mexican but still warrants awareness.
I think in many ways, my venturing down the rabbit hole through my initial discovery of the red pill & my subsequent mining deeply into this world over those following years showed me things that have scarred my outlook on the opposite sex. As far as relationships go, I couldn’t really ask for more than what is proposed by Venezuelan. She’s happy to support me in any endeavour, would follow me wherever & I can sense (for whatever reason), she does love me; rather than me being a participant in an idea she is in love with. But because of this scarring, I’m hyper aware of physical or psychological cues. At one point this weekend, the full size bedsize mirror which had until now been akin to a sexual aid in how much we had enjoyed watching ourselves, suddenly became a window to me seeing how I could be anyone just thrusting away on top of this girl, & how real the possibility of that could be at any time. While here I importantly would like to add, Venezuelan is of the most impressive moral calibre I have ever encountered as well as a genuinely individual & compassionate person, this did (unbeknownst to or directly because of her) trigger off a very real train of thought within me. The level of tolerance from person to person in the event of the sex becoming stale for whatever reason differs, but theoretically you are at risk, literally all of the time. While reading a book including a section about pre-established religion sex morality, it stated it would be entirely feasible for women to be having sex approximately fifty times per day, with over ten different male partners.
Underneath whatever belief system you choose to believe in, external or personalised, the driver for that exists, to this very day, in virtually all women. You start to see why in some cultures such as some fundamental versions of both Islam & Judaism, female sexuality is intentionally repressed to an extreme. There exists a very real fear, one in my opinion entirely understandably so. While most people inherit this fear or have a total naive or chosen ignorance to it, I personally can tell you from hard, empirical observations or experience, it fundamentally exists. From seeing how women who are otherwise seemingly content in their relationship look at me or seeing them look at a particularly attractive guy, you can see that spark of desire in their fucking eyes. It says nothing more than ‘If I could get away with it, I would‘. This exactly, is the very spark all men should fear because the men who inspire this reaction in women, know it well. It typically happens to them often. They know how to ultimately engineer situations of privacy, where they can escalate things. It’s also usually the reason behind ‘girls holidays’; trust me when I say, the main reason your girl is not fucking Pedro the Brazilian barman (welcome back sir) isn’t because of ‘love’. ‘Love’ to women has some sort of elevated value over a weeklong shafting from Pedro. Pedro ‘didn’t mean anything’ & it’s ‘different with you’ because she ‘loves you’. Her ‘loving’ you should make you feel OK another man has fucked your woman. No. If anything will stop her from fucking Pedro, it’s the perception of her from her friends – the ultimate determinant of the vast majority of western women’s morality. How ironic in the supposed age of feminist victory, that women are still their own enemies.
The few chosen men who ignite that spark in a woman’s eyes (typically referred to as Alpha’s in the manosphere) will begin with suggestions that start innocently enough; to make a woman feel comfortable enough firstly. Once that is achieved, those engineered yet still innocent suggestions will ultimately result in her going to his place. All she’s looking for all along, is a disclaimer to herself, so her conscience will be satisfied she’s not a slut. Something as simple as ‘OK but only for ten minutes’ as a response to an invite into his place, can result in her getting screwed doggy style over the sofa, without (it must be said) hardly any prompting.
Note; I don’t tell you these things as wild fantasies or the hope of finding comfort because a projection of a bitterness I might have could convert some of you to my banner. I have no agenda, nor stand to profit. These are simply facts that I have personally resolved myself to & found peace within.
Picking things up again, once she’s got that internal disclaimer resolved against her morality & agreed to go somewhere private, you can safely assume someone else is fucking your woman. It’s minutely possible she may not be depending on the man’s insistence & aggression, but taking into account he’s likely to be a pro by even getting her into that position & that she’s there, tells you everything you need to know. By putting herself there, she’s open to getting fucked. Don’t delude yourself. See the facts & actions only.