Long story short (if you want more specific details, although they don't really matter much, go ask me in the comments), I posted a tongue-in-cheek ad on CL for platonic female friends. The ad pretty strongly implied that I actually wanted to meet some women for NSA fucking, but it was worded in such a way as to provide plausible deniability. (And it was worded in such a way as to pique the interest of the female mind, such as it is, but that's another post.)

I got a fairly large volume of responses (some of which were from dudes; it never fucking fails). After some back-and-forth communicating, photo-exchanging, and the obligatory pruning, I winnowed the worthies down to two.

One is a divorced woman in another county. Nice body, a bit older, stable, educated, able to support herself, but clearly wants a LTR. Friend-zoned (for now).

The other lives near me; is married with children; is at her sexual peak while her beta bux hubby works all day at an office job and then ignores her while playing internet games all night; and is basically happy with her life as-is, but just needs to get rough-fucked by a stranger to add some spice to her dull suburban stay-at-home-mom life.

Obviously, I focused on the latter.

Email exchange leads to texting leads to sexting. I think by now I have a better understanding of this gal's lady parts than her gynecologist.

I set up a meeting without her even realizing that I'm setting us up for a meeting. I drop hints about a window of availability and my location. Thanks to some subtle Pavlovian conditioning (or is it operant? I can never remember), she "surprises" me there. I make sure it's a good place for a first meet - a public place, but reasonably private; I'm wearing as few clothes as is acceptable outside of a beach setting; I'm sweating from exercise (a slight BO from exertion is actually a natural aphrodisiac to women); and I made sure to clean myself up beforehand (shaved, trimmed nose hair, plucked uni-brow, etc.). She thinks it's a chance, casual encounter; I've basically been prepping for this moment all day.

I play it casual. Lots of smiling, joking, teasing. Light touching, but nothing that would trip her ASD. I make sure the brief meeting ends before the conversation lags.

Later than day, lots of texts praising me for being even "hotter" in person, looking forward to the next meeting, etc.

Here's the twist, and this is the part where The Red Pill really comes into play.

A couple days later, the texts are less flirty and less frequent. I sense something is up, but I keep that suspicion to myself. She mentions some other dude she had a chance encounter with. My natural blue-pill reaction is to be jealous and ask a bunch of questions about him. Instead, I basically ignore the existence of this other guy in my replies.

She texts me later that night, hinting about how bad she feels about us talking, how guilty, she's a married woman, she has children, what is she doing? I agree and amplify - yeah, it is pretty reckless, we probably shouldn't talk anymore.

No reply.

I hold my ground. No communication for almost 24 hours. And then...

Long story short (ask me in the comments if you care, but the details don't really matter), she re-initiated contact with me, and within hours openly invited me over to her house for kinky (oh, yes) sex while her husband is at work and her kids are in school.

DREAD GAME. Shit works.

My old blue-pill self would have never been able to work that. A blue-pill version of me would have been more likely to have had a restraining order thrown at him instead of hot married pussy.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BuMBmK5uksg