Girls like to put up defences and reward the man sufficiently determined and strong to smash them into rubble. It’s a game and they know full well what’s going on. I’ve had girls resist like hellcats and then thank me afterwards. Bitches be crazy.
Here’s the great man Dennis Wheatley on the Russian mind:
Now that I’d kissed her, this girl was revved up. She sent me a few goodnight messages intimating that she was hot and horny now. I knew I’d fuck her, the question was just whether it would be this trip or if I’d have to wait till next spring. Hardly ideal, but it’s very little effort to keep pinging a girl on WhatsApp when she’s playing along.
After a comfortable back and forth, time-pressure forced me to put her on the spot and I tell her its my last night in town. She wants to meet but things get a bit clusterfucked as you’ll see. There’s no way I was going into her frame to join her friends. Reading between the lines I don’t think she was trying to tool me or frame-snatch, it was simply a tight schedule and a big step for her. I hold my ground.
While this 9pm chat was progressing I was sitting in Divan bar having a âlast night of tripâ beer with my travel buddy. We were starving. I ordered some dumplings and soup and â no joking â I was genuinely torn between dating this girl and waiting for my food. It didn’t feel like a dead-cert lay and I was just tired of Kiev and tired of girls. As far as I was concerned, 2015 was done. My mind was consumed by thoughts of Fallout 4 and Metal Gear Solid V.
This zero-fucks-given attitude is both a blessing and a curse. On the downside it leads me to let all but my most compliant leads wither and die, and thus depresses my lay count. On the upside, I don’t want to be a man who begs for pussy so it’s nice to have strong boundaries. As I was sitting in Divan sipping beer, it felt 50/50 that she’d come out and 50/50 if I’d agree to meet her.
A player must always be ready to switch up his gameplan. Girls will give off a vibe and you can learn the difference between ânot tonightâ and âtake your chance, big boyâ. When I met this girl outside Divan all of the alarms were buzzing.Â Take her home! Pull the trigger!
Something in the context of the previous date and messages.
Something in the way she folded and ditched her friends.
Something about meeting at 10pm without an agreed date plan.
Something in her lazy walk and heavy-lidded eyes.
Something in her falling in step beside me and not even asking where we were going.
âDo you like wine?â I asked as we turned the first corner and walked in front of a supermarket.
âYes, I’d like wineâ she says.
I had a bottle of red at home but it was corked. There was no corkscrew.
So I was going to buy a twist-capped bottle and walk her home. The only problem is everywhere was closed. The big supermarket was locked up so I walk her five minutes up to the McDonalds which has a 24/7 store…. which is closed for next thirty minutes while they cash up. The only other off licence I know is outside my apartment and already closed at 10pm.
Decision time. Do I suggest a drink in a bar and risk losing momentum? No. Her vibe is screaming âtake me home nowâ. She doesn’t say so, as her style from the moment I met her was always about me leading her and choosing my moments of escalation wisely. Okay, it was an easy decision.
âI’ve got a bottle of red in my apartment.â
I’ll solve the corkscrew problem somehow, I thought. She came in, I put on some music, and she opened the wine by sticking a spoon in the cork and hammering it down into the bottle. Great. Ten minutes of tension and I make the move.
It was a smooth, easy escalation. No LMR. I had her shirt off while we sat on the sofa, then when she straddled me I picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Smash, bang.
It was fantastic sex. She’s a gym junkie so her body is tight and hard. She grabbed me with unexpected strength, clawing and biting me. It felt like wrestling John Cena. I smashed her thoroughly, like a refugee neighbour’s windows. Then after showering she fell asleep with her head on my chest.
This girl is a lesson in greyhoundology. They are frequently like this:
- poised and in control of themselves
- auditioning you in your totality as a man, rather than just r-selection
- expect a controlled and skilled seduction
- usually want The Rub
- Once you get them to the âokay, he can fuck meâ stage, they completely surrender and you wonder how they ever seemed so difficult.
It was a fitting finale to my 2015 Euro season. Smoking hot, smart, and totally into me. I plan to keep her around.