Category: Theory & Stories
Reading time: 10 minutes
I pulled her panties up and off her ankles for the umpteenth time…unveiling a white mucousy liquid which covered her tightly slit vag.
She was still a virgin.
A look of disgust overwhelmed my face. But I dived in, hiding my grimace.
At the time, I was still unversed at the art of cunninglingus. I flapped my tongue against her drenched orifice with my eyes tightly shut… trying to not think of the putrid smell and/or taste.
It was gonna be my second ever lay… and I was willing to do anything to not fuck it up.
We have been doing this routine for the past 3 weeks. Her dad is a chef who worked late at a Chinese restaurant (‘Friendly Oriental’), so from 7 past the PM to 2300 hours everyday, we utilised the time with military efficiency. I would arrive on the dot to spent time at her house (more precisely: in her bed).
Kissing, canoodling… flapping my tongue against her mucus filled vag, hoping that she would give up her virginity before her dad came home.
But as virgins do, they always make you wait.
She was in Year 12, I met her at the library.
I would always ask her to not change out of her school uniform...for any red blooded male reading this, I’m sure you can relate *taps nose knowingly ; )
The prospect of lifting up her miniskirt and POUNDING her from behind is in any man’s fantasy (Anytime Fantasy).
And if I could just lap up her mucousy vag enough times… surely she will give it up eventually.
But everytime I tried to pull off my pants, she would do the virgin thing and tell me she is “not ready”.
It was frustrating. But I knew I had it in the bag due to the following rationale:
She was completely smitten from being approached by someone who had the balls to go up to her in a library (girls love these dramatic “destiny” ways of meeting for the first time as if we are “soul mates”)
I saw her highlight the day we met in her calendar, with a note saying “the day I met him” (I was actually fucking scared when I saw it: “Is… is she thinking of MARRYING me?”)
Virgins don’t let you lick her pussy everyday and then dump you. They become very (VERY) attached... unless you MAJORLY fuck up.
But nevertheless, going down on her dirty honeypot everyday without ANY reward...it was frustrating.
But that day, as I finished lapping her up like a labrador, with the smell of fish smeared all over my face, she grabbed me and stuck her tongue down my throat.
“I’m ready” - thank the fucking lord.
But something happened here that only happened twice in my life (both times with virgins), I went soft.
Without writing an essay about it, the non-feminine, star-fish, I-have-no-idea-what-I’m-doing energy of a virgin simply makes it hard to stay hard.
And after 10 minutes of chaffing Hugzy with her teeth (in an attempt of a blowjob), I thought all hope was lost, … and all I have is 18 days of mucousy vaginal cum in my mouth to show for it.
She went for a toilet break, probably as nervous and disappointed as I was.
But as she came out and stood in the kitchen, displaying her school uniform without any panties, I suddenly went raging hard, and knew this was my one-shot.
I CHARGED into the kitchen and bent her over a bench.
I lifted up her skirt revealing a firm and tender buttcheek, and ran the tip of my forefinger and thumb over her drenched vag. Fearing that I might lose my rigidity any moment, I quickly squeezed my throbbing manhood in… it was unbearably yet heavenly tight.
Although I had to bear through the slight pain of having Hugzy being almost squeezed OFF, the view of her miniskirt lifted up over her bouncing buttcheeks, mixed with her SCREAMS of pain and delight, kept me well lubricated.
I pumped her relentlessly and rhythmically for a good 2 minutes, and shot every last drop inside her (now that I think about it… I’m quite worried LOL)
It was a great memory to have (fclosing a highschool girl with her uniform in her dad’s kitchen), but it was certainly not something worth going through 18 dates for.
And after we both calmed down, she said the 3 words that sealed my hasty exit: “I love you”
3 days later, we broke up… as I really couldn’t betray my integrity anymore.
Phew, that was an experience ain’t it? It was quite the thrill recalling the events of yester-years.
But what the fuck has the above gotta do with quitting your job or moving out, you ask.
Great question, allow me to elaborate.
The question of “Should I quit my job and/or move out to focus on pickup” is often asked by men who want to elevate their game, or spend more time focusing on a goal in their life, but is not sure if the reward is worth leaving their comfort zone for.
There are many logical reasons against a move like this, namely financial, logistical and other constraints (eg. Asian parents), all of which I am certain you already had a thorough assessment of.
However, there are epiphanies and experiences which can only be triggered when you start living at the edge of the metaphorical cliff.
For those considering the leap of faith, removing that safety net (whether it’s moving out and/or quitting your job) will FORCE you to live at a higher frequency of focus than you ever realise is possible. However, if you are not careful, your life can just as easily spiral out of control.
When I moved out AND quit my job at the same time at the age of 21, I experienced both ends of the extreme, so allow me to detail the pros and pitfalls of saying “fuck it” and removing that layer of safety in life.
You will be forced to do what you are supposed to do
Once you take that plunge, there is no save/load function anymore in this game called life.
You must do it right or life WILL slap you to your knees (which isn’t always a bad thing btw).
And after 1 week of moving out, I approached that girl in the library because “it was what I was supposed to do”. Whereas if I was still living with my parents (ie. your comfort zone), there is always the excuse of: ah, I will just do the next one (which of course means it never gets done).
Removing that safety harness will eliminate any excuses and force you to take action (when you take action it increases your masculine energy, which in turn increases your attractiveness to the opposite sex).
You have a place to fclose
Prior to having my own place, fclosing was a real chore.
In the car, at her parents’ house, when my parents are away, booking hotels… it was a logistical nightmare.
It all changed when I had my own bachelor pad. It became easier to extract from clubs, take them back from dates, and escalating was ALOT easier on a comfy couch, than asking her to crawl to the back of your Toyota and groping her in the backseat.
Simply bring her back to your bachelor pad and cream her silly, it’s a HUGE logistical advantage (click here to learn about dealing with LMR)
It’s an adventure of a life time
Do I really need to expand on this?
Every man needs to experience the thrill of having their own adventure. Without it, life is not worth living.
And regardless of the result, I guarantee you will gather some amazing memories to share and some great stories to tell (eg. fclosing a highschool girl you met at the library).
These are not really “bad” for you, as you will learn and grow from them. However, knowing where the spikes are might save you some heartache down the track.
This is where fairytales meet reality.
As much as all of us have that inner voice calling us to pursue our higher purpose, we need to make ends meet.
The key to offsetting any financial problems is to set a reasonable timeline to achieve your goal.
There is nothing wrong with living in the red for a few months or even a couple of years as long as there is a projected finish line.
Generally a timeframe of 6 months is a good starting point (it allows you to test the path without having irreversible implications). And after 6 months, you can have an honest assessment of whether this path really is for you (continue, stop, or make adjustments and persevere).
Lack of Living Skills
The first time I moved out into a shared house for uni students, I soon realised I had absolutely no living skills, which my Asian parents quarantined from me. I understand now why they did it, but at the time it meant I was fucked when I left the nest.
I was clumsy in the kitchen, didn’t know how to do my own laundry, and generally had no idea how to do anything around the house.
I was so shy and became so embarrassed in front of my housemates that I rarely left my room. The only time I did was to get some Weetbix which I brought back to my room, and literally ate for breakfast lunch and tea.
After 2 weeks, I just took all my dirty clothes home to mom. She was both happy and disappointed at the same time.
Again there is nothing “wrong” with this as all of us must learn at some point, but when you can’t even eat properly and have no clean clothes to wear, it is nigh impossible to focus on your life goal. Especially when that goal is to become more attractive to the opposite sex.
You will be exposed as a person
When you leave the safety of the zoo and wander out into the jungle, you will realise it really is a jungle out there.
All your character flaws will be ruthlessly exposed, whether it’s laziness, ill-discipline, lack of courage, lack of determination and perseverance, you will be found out.
For me, after tasting the pussy of that highschool chic within 1 week of moving out, my inner contentment went through the roof, and I gave myself the excuse of “you done well, just rest for 2 weeks”. That 2 weeks turned into 4 weeks, into 2 months, and before you know it, my 6 months lease was up, I was out of money and only had 1 lousy lay.
Was it a success? I would say the initial bit was, but in large it was a failure, and I barely grew as a person.
HOWEVER, it taught me what NOT to do the next time around.
And 6 years later, when I moved out again, I knew that:
Money IS limited, so you gotta make the most of the time;
To achieve maximum efficiency, I needed to live alone;
There is no resting on laurels - failure is just around the corner if you celebrate your success for too long.
And the second time around, I was dedicated to the cause, making sure I lived to the motto of “waking up determined, go to sleep satisfied”.
It was simply the most amazing period of my life.
And after moving out for the second time, I quickly notched up 2 fcloses within the first 3 months (one of them my first 9 as a girlfriend). Once again I felt that inner contentment going through the roof (mainly from the validation of having a 9 as a gf, it really was an eye opening experience - the way guys looked at her walking down the street and the amount of texts from guys wanting to fuck her was just “wow” - story for another day).
After those 2 lays, I felt my subconscious tugging away at me again, telling me to take a well-deserved rest and rest on my laurels.
But this is where you learn from your mistakes, and the previous experience cut me deep. With that in mind, I never rested on my laurels and it pushed me to a solid 11 lays that year (each a story on its own - what life is about right?).
So coming back to the original question: should you remove your safety net to focus on your life goals?
The answer is yes, but do draw a line, especially if it’s your first time taking the plunge. Have a goal with a realistic time frame which is tailored to YOUR personal situation.
For some, it’s a 2 months hiatus, for others it’s a 10 year journey.
If you succeed, great. You have learnt how to achieve your life goals, your mind has expanded, and you will never go back to your previous self.
If you fail, EVEN better, you will learn from the mistakes, and the life experiences you gained along the way will allow you to grow stronger.
Either way, it’s a chance to do something not everyone is privileged to do:
Living your life.60 views