Misadventures in Dating

Spot: Her Place
Chic: 29/Greek
Body type: Fit
Occupation: Who cares

For the last couple of weeks I have been doing more commentary than anything else because I found the women of New York to be unworthy of the challenge. Till last night…

I got to the gym at about 930 in the P.M. last night. Started with cardio, continuously dropping and raising the speed on the treadmill at sporadic intervals for 45 minutes. 10 maybe 15 minutes in she stepped up onto the vacant treadmill next to me. We’re both running, stealing glances at one another through the reflection of the windows or just blatantly checking out each others ass, when she asked why I kept adjusting the speed over and over. Not thinking anything of it I told her the truth, by using different intensity levels my body is shocked with different sprint sets and it improves my stamina in and out of the gym.

Here is where it got interesting, “Tanya” asked how long I could go for. I told her I could go 11 or 12 minutes at about 8.5. Apparently she was talking about sex because she said her men had to last longer than 12 minutes.

Anyone else would say forget it and continue running. But me being me, had to set the record straight. Now any man can ask a chick out to dinner, how many of you pussies can actually cook for them? I told her to come over and I would cook for her.

Apparently she is smarter than the usual piece of ass I pick up, she declined saying that she doesn’t go to a guys place after just meeting them, but she did offer to have me over for dinner, with one condition. She asked if I could behave. Looking her straight in the eyes, I said, “if you wanted a good guy you wouldn’t be asking me to come over.”

Luckily I only lived a few blocks from her so we decided to meet in an hour or so. Now with only 30 minutes before Whole Foods closed I decided to pull a move straight out of Top Gun, kind of…

Her doorman lets me up, she greets me with a surprised look on her face. I had gotten there early, not only was I early, I went home picked up a duffel with clothes and got to her place 45 mins early. Who are we kidding, we already saw each other sweaty and disgusting at the gym. She asked what the duffel was for to which I said, I thought I could take a shower at her place, didn’t want to eat too late. She led me to her kitchen…

Stumbling around in her kitchen I eventually get situated and start my prep work. She asked if she could help, but I declined. After all I told her I would cook for her. Conversation flowed easily, innuendo almost boiling over a few times. Finally the food was done, both not showered we dove right into the food, I made grilled tilpia in a spice rub with broccoli rabbe and some lemon potatoes. By the end of dinner we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. Within moments we were stark naked.

Now I don’t know about you, but I love to eat pussy, hell I will eat that shit for breakfast, lunch and dinner. But what I won’t do is eat her out after the gym without showering. The smart girl she was led me to her shower, pretty big I may say, you could probably fit 6 people in there. Watching the water and soap glistening off of her body I bent her over, dropped to my knees, parting her cheeks and started eating as best as I could. And I eat like a fucking champ. Thumb in her pussy, middle finger in her ass, index finger playing and my tongue licking everything in between I could feel her heart pulsating and her body beginning to tense up. I could be selfish and just start fucking her, but instead I picked her up onto my shoulders with her back against the wall and slipped my tongue in as far as I could get and I sucked like no other. Ended up fucking in the shower, the kitchen, the living room. Basically she gave me a tour of the entire place leaving the bedroom for last. Finally we make it to the bedroom, barely any life left in me she left to get some water. Looking around I saw something on her night table.

This chick was a fucking whore. Looking me right in the face was her wedding picture. Now I don’t usually have morals and I wasn’t about to start. The moment she came back in I threw her to the bed, put her on all fours and started fucking the shit out of her while reaching around to kiss her while making her look at her wedding picture. Feeling sorry for the poor douche that married this hot piece of ass, I flipped her over, ripped off the condom and came all over her face and chest.

As I was walking out I told her to give me a call the next time her husband wasn’t around. It’s now 5PM and I have gotten no less that 4 phone calls and 15 text messeges asking when she could see me again.

Advice: Hit the gym and learn to cook boys…

Casual Dater Real Life chick, cooking, fish, hot, married, Slut, Whore

The old chestnut.

It doesn’t matter how good-looking she is. I don’t care if she is the best piece of ass you’ve ever dragged home from a bar. If you took her to your place, and you fell asleep, when you wake up in the morning, you can’t help it, you have to ask:

“Who is the chick and how did we get home?”

Then you slowly remember and the question gets more serious:

“Now how the fuck do I get rid of her?”

There are no obvious answers, because all of the excuses you can think of sound just like the bullshit lies that they are. The moment she opens her eyes, she is wondering the same thing: how is this motherfucker going to try to get rid of me? Will I have to take a cab home or will he drive me? Do I love him? (They always think this).

OK, so let’s get the easy stuff out of the way first. Why the fuck would you drive her home? Get her in a cab, no matter what you do, you idiot. Why drag it out? It’s like when you take your pet to the vet. The best thing for her is to put her out of her misery. Cabs are there for a reason. They provide girls with fifteen long, hard minutes to think about the smell coming from their crotch because their underwear is in their purse. Cabs are God’s way of reminding girls how dirty they can be sometimes.

Side note: Timing is everything. The cab rule hits home hardest if the sun is just coming up. The Gold medal goes to the man who doesn’t pay for the cab at this time, forcing her to stop at an ATM in her cocktail dress.

Which brings us to the crux of the matter. There are answers to How Do I Get Rid of This Chick? These include: the cleaning lady is coming, I have breakfast with my parents, a doctors appointment, or golf. But the truth is that these are for pussies. The best and only way to get rid of the chick is to do it right after you get done fucking. Stay awake you asshole! This will guarantee that you will not have to spend the rest of the night holding this piece of shit and pretending that you have something special going on.

If you stay awake, you can usually play on her vanity and make it seem as though you are looking out for her. “Baby, I want you to stay here, I really do, but don’t forget all your shit is at home. All your makeup, your hairbrush, your products, a change of clothes. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in the morning. Call me tomorrow and we’ll hang out.”

Aside: If you try to get rid of her while she is still drunk or just about to pass out, she will not be able to recognize what you are doing and probably agree to leave early. When she gets home that night, she will go straight to bed and pass out not thinking about the whore she is and wake up thinking about what a great guy you are the next day rather than what kind of fucking asshole sends me home in the morning and doesn’t even offer to pay for the cab. This will leave the door open for another bang sometime or even banging her friends another time because she thinks that you are a good guy still.

This immediately makes her think of the Walk of Shame, that terrible feeling of showing up on her street and meeting a neighbour in the blazing hot middle of tomorrow looking like she just got dragged through a bush backwards. All women hate the Walk of Shame. Use this to your advantage.

Advice: Side-step the whole question of how to get rid of a chick. This takes a special quality that most men do not possess: staying awake after shooting your load.

But trust me, if you wait until the morning it will be much harder. Get rid of her early, and always try to make her feel that you are looking out for her best interests.

Because I feel like being a “nice guy” today, here are a few things you ladies should keep in your purses and use pre-walk of shame;

1. Make up remover
2. Pony tail thing/headband
3. Sunglasses that cover most of your face
4. Spare panties
5. Shorts/Jeans
   
6. Tank top or the of the like
7. Flats/flipflops
8. $20 if douche wont call you a black car at which point, re-evaluate what you fuck

Or you can just get  a Walk of Shame Kit…

Casual Dater Commentary, JBIC, Men's Interest, Misadventures in Dating - The Book bar, black car, casual sex, chick, ditch, get rid of her, one night stand, walk of shame

Remember the last time you ate a ripe, crispy, beautiful sour green apple? We know how good they can be.

You wash it lovingly under the tap. It is cold. It is hard. You take that first bite. Juicy! Wow, you love that fucking apple. You proceed to eat it, loving every single bite just a little more than the last, hoping and wishing that it will never be over.

Now, imagine that you take your time eating that juicy, delicious apple. So good that you are already anticipating the afterthoughts of how good that apple was. And then, the very last bite that you take, you bite into the fucking apple core. FUCK! The whole fucking experience of the apple is now the memory of  The Apple Core.

You can’t even remember the first bite anymore. You certainly don’t remember the juice that dripped down the left side of your cheek. All you can remember and taste is that dirty, hard seed that is still stuck somewhere in the back of your mouth, requiring you to stick your finger all the way back there to dislodge it.

Now think of a beautiful piece of ass that you pick up at the bar. You walk into the bar with your boys, horny, and before you know it the most beautiful girl at the bar is standing next to you smiling, laughing at your jokes, touching you more than necessary. You spend the whole night talking about how much you want to bang her. By the end of the night, you even have your hand down the back of her tight black skirt. Now you have Shit Finger to carry you all the way until you get home .

And then you are home with her. She is even more beautiful with all the lights on than she was in the dark, dingy bar where you met her.

Your thoughts at this point: “Bang the fuck out of her, make her remember me, and don’t cum too quickly.”

And now you are banging her like a champion. You are making all the right moves. You feel like you might cum, so you pull out your pig. You want it to go forever. You want to be a superstar.

Once the sensation has receded, you put it back in. And now you are fucking her like a star. You never knew you could pull back flips while fucking a chick, but now you are a sexual gymnast, a contortionist.

And now you have her on the hook. She’s cuming, she’s telling you she’s cuming, and you are ready to blast, too. And just as she is coming you decide that this apple is just too good to stop eating. So what do you do, you fucking idiot? You pull your pig out and try and stop something that has, unfortunately, already begun. Apple Core!!!

It’s too late. The rabbit is out of the hat. The trick is over. She just had a fantastic orgasm, and you are left there like a fucking drooling retard with your hand around your cock, squeezing it as hard as you can to try and stop it from shooting. Guess what? You don’t stand a chance. You just experienced The Apple Core.

Advice: I know how much you want to impress the new piece of ass you just brought home, but it makes no fucking difference. No matter how good you made her cum, she’s not going to think you’re cool when you are dribbling your own cum all over your own hand and crying, cursing the fucking apple core. “Goddamn fucking Apple Core!” Just fucking cum when it is time.

You are the man. You fuck her, not the other way around.

Postscript: Because you feel so bad about this smoking hot chick and the Apple Core situation, you might be tempted to offer her another apple. But this never works out.

Firstly, the second apple never tastes as good as the first. Secondly, she’s so happy about her half of the first apple that she now wants to go to sleep after all the fucking drinks you fed her. Now you are fingering a dead drunk cow.

Additional Postscript: The Apple Core isn’t always with new girls, although it should be. It also happens sometimes with your girlfriend who you have been banging for six, seven months. You are a fucking weak asshole! The bitch already loves you.

Why would you even put yourself in a position of experiencing the Apple Core? Understand that she is happy that you washed the apple in the sink.

She no longer cares if you even eat the whole thing.

Casual Dater Commentary, JBIC, Men's Interest, Misadventures in Dating - The Book apple core, chick, little black dress, shit finger