Alcman's Odyssey Into Love



Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Fri Nov 30, 2018 8:44 pm

Bookend: First of December, Where I'm At

I inaugurated this journal on the tenth of November last year, and so a couple of weeks ago I became a GC sophomore. Looking back, it's been a mind-blowing journey. Last week I had sex for the sixth time, which I remember Chase quoting somewhere as the mean lifetime number of mates for a western male. Ergo, just since January I've tried as many different girls as your average man fucks during his ENTIRE LIFE. So in a way, I lived a whole life on fast forward, haha! And the spectrum has been wide: ages from 15 to 32 (that is, one woman more than twice as old as another!), of Swedish, Swiss, French, German, Scottish and Iranian ethnicity, picked up through street day game, school game, street night game, nightclub game, bar game and online game.

Every single one has been an ONS, so I still have zero relationship (or even fuckbuddy) experience. But I'm enjoying the ride so much, it would have to take a very special girl indeed to make we want to be tied down. It's kind of ironic: the only girls I really deeply have loved, are young teens, with whom it's very hard indeed to have relationships. Older women are tuggin at my clothes, but in vain.

On the note of what Kristian wrote here recently:
kristian wrote:I don't have time to go out and game for hours like I did before. I am trying to do other things, tho, like flirting a little at work or figuring out girls subtle signs of interest.

The "I game because I don't have time" is a big non sequitur which has lured me too lately. What I'm starting to realize is that putting time into game is an investment: the better I become, the more I hit flow on command and save time, and the more I'm satisfied with women, the more efficient and flowing my other preoccupations turn. Perhaps even more important though, is the question of priority: I can honestly say that at the end of the day, my love life is the most important and worthwhile aspect of my life; if there's one arena I allow to somewhat eat away at others, it's the girl arena. It feels good to spell this out loud and clear to myself, to set it in print and save for weak moments.

This Hegelian dialectic I'm in, this helix where I keep spinning and rising, has just recently made a full circle. I'm back where I started, standing on the winter cold streets and in the steaming bars, but everything has changed. I have women in my life, I have experience, I have expanded comfort zones. I am ready to go the distance, I am ready to start churning again, I yearn for rejection and ego depletion. I have grown so accustomed to regular pain, that I feel weak and pusillanimous without it. When I walk in society, I already stand out, I am extra-ordinary, I no longer belong to the old throng of men, and wherever I go all women notice me, feel me, that I am different. I have set the ball rolling. I realize that I am never going back; consciousness is a one-way road. The air up here is thinner but purer, and the damp still air of my quondam abode feels distant, like a childhood nightmare. I look at the world with the eyes of a realist, a physicist: whatever sought-after constellations there are of matter and mind in this cosmos, I can and will bring them about, sooner or later. Like a mathematician I attack the problem, I besiege the task: so you want to meet this kind of girl, you want to be able to ace in this or that environment, you want a threesome? Like Lego-bricks I lay out the steps needed. There are no more blurry, dreary dreams. This last year is an archetype, a proof of method.

Tonight's night outing was a bit short of three hours and three bars, but instructive. For the first time ever, I pulled a "Grandmaster" trick, by stashing my jacket at some girls' table (though I had hooked one of them before at the bar). Sadly, after going and ordering together, we were short of chairs, and I had to abandon ship. A victory though, since one of my night game sticking points is getting away from the bar desk, and settling in at tables. I also should have number closed the girl who hooked, because ABC.

I've said it before: the day I master stamina, and can stay out the whole night regularly, both bar and club, I'm going to go berserk. To be able to reliably execute a grand night process is really the last great "beginner" hurdle in my seduction career. As it is now, these all-nighters happen way too infrequently, and when they occur, unbelievable things happen.

From next week on, I will decrease the pressure at university, and add more time to focus on girls, gym and my own writing and thinking. I haven't had a release since I had sex last Thursday nor any porn, and I feel fucking powerful and joyfully nasty. Never have I felt more women check me out than this last week since that dirty sex.

Love life!
A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Wed Dec 05, 2018 3:42 pm

Virgin Pastures

Bach wrote:Schwingt freudig euch empor zu den erhabnen Sternen,
Ihr Zungen, die ihr itzt in Zion fröhlich seid!

[Soar joyfully upwards to the exalted stars,
you tongues that now are joyful in Sion!]

The blonde and fit French girl M (originally from street stop) came over to my place again Sunday evening. Second time ever a girl visits me twice, haha! Here's the story:

After her LMR first time, I was silent and eventually she sent a slightly apologetic SMS proposing to meet again. We setup a meeting for the Sunday, but when the day comes she has a cold, so I advise her to stay home and we decide to postpone until the next Sunday. She arrives an hour later than we planned, but she lives far away, so I expected it. We listen to some music and talk a bit, but I want to try out the waters. With last time in mind, I am flustered to meet the exact same resistance again. Reclining on the bed I decide that we need to vent this verbally. "Why did you want to meet me again, M?"

This question spawns an open-hearted conversation of a wonderful and enlightening kind, which proves to be exactly what she needs. She tells me about all kinds of preposterous fears she had the first time, like me taking her home to cut off her hair and sell it, because I had said she had such fine thick locks. She says she felt expendable, like she "could have been anybody". I mostly let her talk, and focus on conveying that I listen to her and understand, rather than confirming.

The air between us is now completely changed and set at ease. We play around again and I decide to play the cock-trick. I straddle her and unzip my pants, my hard-on bulging through my underwear. Her reaction immediately establishes her virginity. With blushing incredulity she half turns away and covers her eyes; "Oh, how weird! My, this will take a bit of getting used to..." I move her hand to it and let her feel the contours through the cloth. "It feels like plastic!" When I deem her ready for the next step I pull it out, unveiling the full glory of manhood. Like the excited biologist who tremblingly investigates a new weird species of fungus, she pokes the stem, strokes the glans, her demeanor slightly skeptical; like Alice upon seeing the stressed rabbit her mind can't decide if what's before her is familiar or foreign, fantasy or fact. "How do you do this? You have to teach me", she stammers, her hands awkwardly fumbling, and I guide them to the jerking motion.

She has been set at ease, and now lets me unbutton her blouse. I dive in and for a long time let my tongue be joyful in Zion, as she responds to the new sensations and fumbles with my limb. After a while of this, I pull out a condom and asks if she knows what it is. "Yes, but I'm not ready for that." "It's not for you! There are other usages you know, like keeping from messing up the room." I let her have a go at putting it on, and after quite a bit of work its ready. I let her jerk it some more, and then ask if she wants to taste it. She wavers a bit, but I can tell she'll do it, so I stand up by the side of the bed and let her sit on it. How absolutely adorable to see her first nibble develop into a soft suckling, her hands perched on the sides of the shaft quite like a squirell's holding an acorn. "It's like eating ice-cream with no flavour!"

Memories of a cute porn scene make me suggest I recline on the bed, with her lying on her stomach at a right angle and face over my cock. In this way I get the first full view and fistful of her jeans-clad ass. And what a killer bubble butt I had totally missed she had! As I grope it wide-eyed and express my appreciation, the nymph smirks and answers that "my butt is the only part of me I always loved; I remember being proud of it already at eight years old...". It's the best ass I ever touched, and as she keeps sucking me I slide my hand under her jeans and grope the real thing. My sensation is getting strong. She asks about how to suck, and I direct her to the faster up-and-down movement just across the edge of the glans and as far down as she can take it. Her mouth and teeth feel amazing, and groping her ass with one hand I grab her head with the other and thrust into her mouth as I climax pretty hard and she keeps sucking the cum-filled condom. "It's like you're sneezing", she comments as I convulse abdominally. "Wow, I started to get really tired in the jaw", the hard-working girl says after finally deeming the job done, and lies down to rest her head on my breast. "Good job! Well deserved rest", I assure her.

I take a shower and she lingers listening to music. The hour has gotten past midnight and as I come back from the bathroom she appears to be looking at commuter train schedules. "Can I stay here? It takes so long to go back home, and I feel lazy." I hesitate, since I never slept with a girl (in the pedestrian sense!), but I have trained my mind to respond positively to challenges to my routines, so I tell her it's OK. I climb into bed and she undresses to white lingerie and follows suit.

What wild new sensations, to be under the same blanket as a steaming female body, and to boot one I haven't before experienced without her pants! I feel as though entering an hitherto unknown tactile dimension. She lies on her side, turned away from me, with her butt just lightly pressed against my cock, which quickly grows rock-solid. My hands wander south on an exploration, and the curves, heat and silky smoothness of her hip and thigh take me by surprise. Her inner thighs are verily the smoothest surface I have experienced, and making space with my hands, I squeeze my cock in between them. With the glans now sticking out on her side, I invite her hand to help itself, all the while I continue caressing her entire body and kissing her neck. Whenever I stray to close to them, her greedy lips suck me in for kisses. I ask her about how she feels, and she tells me how it feels unusual and strange to have another person laying next to her. If only she knew I feel the same! A special moment in time and space, two persons who experience for the first time sharing the intimacy of night and vulnerability of sleep.

Eventually my hands close in on her vagina, sometimes skirmishing with hers over new territory. "Why don't you show me how you do it?", I suggest. "What fantasies do you have, what do you think of?" She drops a (sexy) bomb: "I only fantasize about girls". Of course, this makes me quite aroused and interested, so I ask her about it. "It's quite weird, I only had crushes on boys, but I don't fantasize about them." She suggests she might have watched too much of a TV series about man-deprived female inmates. "But it might also be that I have a vagina, and girls also have them so they feel less frightening." Based on what I know about her, this could very well have to do with her growing up with a very strict and frightening father (the "escape" from whom brought her to Sweden).

Lying silently under the blanket in the dark room, we live through our hands. With my own hand I track the movement of hers, as it gently gyrates over her clitoris. When she stops I ask her to guide my hand, and so our hands walk hand in hand towards the sweet spot, where hers start moving mine like a small puppet, "showing it the ropes".

After awhile of this, I am ready for new impressions, and jump on top of her to make out. But I know what I want to explore more, so I turn her around on her stomach and remove the blanket. Straddling her legs I bask in the unveiled glory of her bubble butt. The readership here is all-male, so I needn't argue for the heart-warming glory of worshiping the ass of a thin-waisted teenager. I start to finger her from behind, but she is super-sensitive and tight as a butt sphincter. Every time she cringes I have to pull out and start over, but every new time I go deeper. When I poke her with two fingers she is first a bit afraid, but eventually I manage to squeeze them in. I ask if she wants to try sitting on my cock, but she doesn't. Since it's very late, I flip her back, straddle her and make her jerk me off until I jizz on her stomach. Baptized in sperm!

As she goes to tidy up, equally repulsed and fascinated, I sneak off for a midnight snack. The clock is after two and I realize I'll just have to skip class the next day (starts 8:30 am). As she comes back and I view her full figure in the moon light, I see more clearly than before what an immensely sexy body she has; quite the underwear model there in her white lingerie! Is there anything more endearing than a tired thoughtful girl, walking barefoot in her underwear and spreading the afterglow of your touch ? Stripped of civilization, clothes, make-up and conversation, a woman shows her true spirit, a doe, a sylph, an element, perfectly shaped like ivory yet shapeless and all effervescent glimmer like quicksilver.

We open the window and listen to the rain. She wants to show me a birth mark she has talked about, just below her butt. I crouch down to watch it. "Nice view, or what?", she mocks me when I linger to long at butt-height. We lay down on the bed, tired but sleepless. I ask her to read me aloud my favourite French poem, "Feuillage de coeur" by Maeterlinck, and she responds by reading me the naughty secret correspondence between lovers and poets George Sand (woman) and Alfred de Musset. Disguised as platonic and stiff love letters, if you only read every other line, raunchy invitations take their place, saying things like

Je suis prête à montrer mon cul, et si vous voulez me voir ainsi toute nue, daignez me faire visite, je vous prouverai que je suis la femme la plus profonde, comme la plus étroite dont vous puissiez rêver. Puisque votre vis est bien long, bien dur et souvent bien gros.

(I am ready to showcase my butt, and if you wish to see me fully nude, call on me; I would prove that I am the deepest as well as the tightest woman that you can imagine. Since your manly strength is so long, so hard and often so big...)

which cracks me up quite a bit. I'm starting to appreciate the ironic humor of this girl, who had initially struck me as too sarcastic. We now slide back into bed, and she cuddles up her tush against my groin again. I tell her that I won't be able to sleep if she does that, which cracks her up, after which I turn facing the other way and quickly fall asleep.

At about 5:30 her phone alarm goes off, as she has to go to her work at a kindergarten and naturally go home in between to fix herself up. We both giggle at the alarm because we're so tired, the alarm signal is so silly and we went to bed less than three hours ago. She dresses, gives me some kisses and sneaks off.

---

Quite a few firsts that night:
- First time having a girl stay over night
- First time cumming in a girl's mouth wearing a condom; actually a good idea, due to no semen breath for the rest of the night!
- First time being sexual with a virgin (ajay, I know you've got a hard-on by now you fellow pervert! ;)

I feel strongly how good this experience was for me. To try out longer and more caring interactions with women is really what I need; as has been said on this site, the most progress is made when one works on every part of the seduction process regularly, and not only one, say, the approach or long term relationship.

This post took me a few days to write, and apparently Ms. M has flown to London today to visit a friend and will be back Sunday. She is warm and humorous over SMS, and I have a hunch she'll bring her beautiful derrière here for more next week. I'm going to abstain from contacting her until she returns, and let the memory of me speak for itself in her mind.

Joyfully upwards,
A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Eliasmusic » Wed Dec 05, 2018 8:46 pm

Excellent write-up about the French girl bro... Masterful command of the English language haha... Given that she's new to the whole sexual sphere I'd be very careful to be continually honest with her (like you said that you were in asking her about the first date and LMR.) With such inexperienced chicks, you have the chance to shape how they view guys for the rest of their lives (to a certain extent at least) and I'd say 9 times out of 10 if you're shamelessly honest and upfront about your intentions a la Hector, then 1- she'll think you're a God, and 2- she'll be able to recognise beta-ass motherfuckers and stay the hell away when she see's them.

Elias
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Wed Dec 26, 2018 7:28 am

Eliasmusic wrote:Given that she's new to the whole sexual sphere I'd be very careful to be continually honest with her (like you said that you were in asking her about the first date and LMR.) With such inexperienced chicks, you have the chance to shape how they view guys for the rest of their lives (to a certain extent at least) and I'd say 9 times out of 10 if you're shamelessly honest and upfront about your intentions a la Hector, then 1- she'll think you're a God, and 2- she'll be able to recognise beta-ass motherfuckers and stay the hell away when she see's them.


Unfortunately, the more honest I was, the more she thought I was childish and lost attraction. When I said that I didn't want to meet her more if she was just interested in making out or platonically cuddling, she became sad and told me to contact her if I changed my mind. She told me that my actions were counter-productive, that were I less pushy, she would be more comfortable and likely to have sex. Her frame was strong I didn't have the tools to handle it. I blew it, but I learned a lot from her about the value of moving slower with less experienced girls, and in general establishing trustful relations with women, which I honestly can't say I've ever done.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Wed Jan 16, 2019 9:34 am

Paris: First Week of 2019

This week in Paris was the most intense week in my life! The experience was a powerful confirmation: from one week of meeting girls, I took two new lovers and my host one. Two guys, three girls, one week :)

Monday was the big New Year's party. We were warriors and stayed at the club from midnight until 05:30, haha! We met billions of girls, but the Danish girl who matched the most with me went home the next day.

After resting on Tuesday, we went out again on Wednesday. During street game I spotted a charming butt and long brown hair. She was the third wheel in a three-set, walking slightly in front of the others, so I walked up and complimented her. Her name is Yasmeine, and she's a half-Korean half-Jordanian girl biology student from California. She hooked and I took her number, while her friends politely waited on the side. As I walked away I heard her friend say "wow, he was so cool!".

We proceeded to our club of preference, the Supersonic, with its daily live concerts, free entrance and many relaxed and cool girls. I stood by the bar and bantered with every girl who came to order. Eventually a girl with a beret hooked hard. Her name is Mia. I bantered with her, took her hat and eventually made out with her. An article I read last week springs to mind: on how to get intimate with women in public. So I delivered the lines I remembered from the article: "Have you ever had sex in public?" She answered avoidingly. I bent forward and whispered in her ear that I will go to the toilet, and if I don't come back in ten seconds I'll be waiting for her there. The bathrooms were all empty, since it was still early. The booths had sturdy real doors and I entered one. She came soon afterwards. We giggled and made out, before I bring out my cock and she hungrily kneels down to suck. I was already hard, so quite soon I directed her against the wall and pushed my cock inside her. She moaned loudly (guess she couldn't help it). The friction was so great that I ejaculated in her after only a few minutes, but I continued to finger her cum-filled pussy which made her moan even more. There was a big cum pool on the floor and we were both a bit messy. After tidying up, she asked me if I ever did anything like this before, and where in Paris, but I hear people outside and hush her. I slipped outside and she locked the door behind her. Two girls were waiting in line but didn't seem to bother. I washed my hands and headed back to the bar. I listened to the next set, but didn't stay for long.

On Friday we hit the Supersonic again. I got a couple of numbers early on and had a good time. Later in the night my pal spotted a three set for us, but on the way I got distracted and approached another girl. Turned out she was an old Tinder match of mine from the summer, and she had just been dumped by her Swedish boyfriend. I wasted a lot of time on her, and she was in no mood for hook-up. When I returned to my friend, I found three charming youngsters, one of which looked amazingly alike my summer love Thais. I had a bit too much to drink, and the way they witnessed me dismiss the dumped girl gave me an intimidating player vibe. My friend on the other hand, had kept his cool and interacted with them for a long time. When they were about to leave, I tried to number close the cutest and she dismisses me openly, saying stuff with her broken English like "I don't have Tinder" and "I'm young" (she's 17). Instead she walked over to my two years older friend and openly gives him her number before leaving.

The combination of alcohol, romantic memories and humiliation crushed me completely, and we left too. I have to admit that moment as the worst yet of my career. It was humiliating on a new level; when you meet a girl you like, and she turns you down, you leave her. But this time I had to stand by to see the one girl I really fell in love with during the week painstakingly give her number to my older friend, after having said she's too young for me. If he would have been any other guy, I probably would have caused some serious trouble, drunk as I was. He took her virginity last Saturday. I realize all too well I'm the silly one, but I'm still sick with jealousy, especially since he's not particularly into her. I never before experienced such irrational animosity towards a friend. I've reflected a lot upon the situation. I guess it's the kind of fucked up thing that will become more and more common for me, and I'll have to learn how to handle it. I clearly identify the culprits: alcohol and the fact that I'm not yet where I want to be with the girls of my desired age group. Spending time in Stockholm has unfortunately given me a scarcity mentality, since you rarely encounter 17-year-olds in the clubs here. Never before have I felt more strongly the benefits and peace of mind, that would come from having an abundance mentality. God, give me strength...

Yasmeine

Saturday morning a message drops in from Yasmeine, and I suggest she accompany me to an exhibition of the Swiss sculptor Alberto Giacometti at the small Musée Maillol in the seventh arrondissement. (Giacometti was among my first art experiences, as I grew up with a small replica of a characteristically elongated figurine of his at home). Ignorant of what is brewing in Paris this day, I suggest we meet by a restaurant close to the métro Rue du Bac. When I arrive I am met by smoke, a wall of crowd control policemen and a firetruck. As I start to make out bright yellow vests on some of the people close to me, it dawns on me that I've managed to set up a date inside the weekly Gilets jaunes demonstration! Quite stressed I talk to two girls there and they confirm my suspicion, and tell me of a Christmas tree burning up the road. They are chocked and amused to hear of my unlucky date plans, and decide to stay with me until I know my girl is alright. Slowly the streets fill with marching vests.

Relieved, I eventually spot Yasmeine in a cute sort of trenchcoat and go greet her. Fortunately the museum is away from the trouble zone. We nonetheless have some trouble finding it (sorry for the word play), but eventually it pops out at us after we first walked right by. We take off our jackets and Yasmeine reveals her striking fashion: a zip jacket with a Harley Davidson logo, nylons, some short black spandex pants which blend with the nylons and black Docks. With her long dark hair and girlish features, the style gives her an air of "youth rebel" which I find arousing, though she's a 23 y.o. biology student. She complains of a small rip along the side of her nylons which she apparently made this morning. Little does she know what the evening has in store for her nylons...

We meander through the exhibition, bantering along the way about what we see, and she even finds herself some personal favourites, which she photographs (I just photograph her, as to my mind she's the prettiest thing around). After the museum we drink espressos at a small café around the corner. Braving the cold, we take a blanket and sit outside. This is where we start to bond for real and share some of our life stories. After the coffee, she makes us stay as she smokes her e-cigarette. Together we amass enough coin for the coffee and leave. I suggest we grab a glass of wine and she agrees. We stroll towards the Sèvre-Babylone métro, as it will make it easier to for us to go to the apartment later. At a street corner facing a park and the luxury hotel Lutetia, we are attracted by generous infra-red heating grilling the terrasse, and decide to stop. We order a pitcher, and against my routine I pay, to minimize hassle. In the combined warmth of lamp and wine, we watch as darkness falls over the city of light. The conversation is animated and varied, the jokes smart and the innuendos dirty. We both know that the other knows that we both feel the pull, the magic of the night.

When the wine pitcher peters, I tell her that my roommate has SMS:ed me, and that we have the apartment to ourselves, and can share a drink there. She agrees and we take the subway to Boulogne-BIllancourt. In her scanty clothing more fitting for a California boardwalk than Paris in winter, she's freezing as we walk the short distance from the metro to the apartment (she claims these days are the coldest she has ever experienced), so I hug her close to warm her up. We pass the car rental with the blue Lamborghini on the ground floor, and head up to the top. She goes to the bathroom and we keep up a conversation between rooms. I too hit the bathroom, where I realize I'm a bit nervous. I take a deep breath and sail out.

I take her for a super-quick tour of the cold but cool terrace, then I bring out my friend's way-to-expensive wine (I had to buy him lunch the day after to recompense) and play a bit helpless so that she takes upon herself to open the bottle. Girls love to feel helpful, and it's also quite charming to see her fight with all her might to pull out the cork. "It would be shameful if I couldn't do it, now that I've said I'm good at this!" We pour our glasses and settle on the bed. With her in my lap, we listen to music from Spotify, as I have my phone connected to the stereo.

I take her chin and direct her face towards mine, and we begin making out. I put her hand on my cock and say that there's a phrase she just has to know in French - "Tu me fais bander". "What, you're giving me a hard-on?", she guesses, spot-on. We take pauses to change music. My hands are all over her, but as I think it's time to give her breasts some attention, it starts: she starts saying things like "no, we shouldn't do that, I don't want that, I have to be leaving soon" etc ad nauseam. I feign deafness and get my mouth to her breast. She moans loud and squirms with pleasure, and I can tell she's turned on like there's no tomorrow, but still voices the same "no, I don't wanna do this, no, stop". But I instinctively call her bluff - the intonation is just way off; her syllable "no" rides on the music of a "yes", and through a muffle, her "stop" would sound like a "harder". I realize I'm in the midst of a test - I've come off as too much of boyfriend material. A test is a win-win for her: if I break and call it a night, she will (or thinks she will) guarantee further dates and shape the relationship; if I persist, she will get to satisfy her desire to be fucked right now, while both orgasming harder from the fantasy of being restrained and taken against her will by a highly desirable male and keeping up the persona of not being an "easy girl". Naturally the latter option is the one she wants the most.

Her breasts are amazingly erect and sensitive and we share a naughty smile in the realization and enjoyment of this fact. When she's on the road to a mini orgasm, she forcefully pulls down her shirt, rearranges her clothing and says aloud that she thinks it's time for some more wine. She pours us, and we recline on the bed, her on the side, Cleopatra-style, and me with my head on her waist, body away from her and right arm between her legs and up massaging her butt and inner thigh. We lay like this for quite awhile, enjoying the music and each other's presence.

The exact chronology of the continued foreplay is a bit confused due its length. Whenever we're together I keep up the sexual pressure, stimulating her more and more between the legs, and eventually bringing out my cock for her to jerk off. Slowly I undress myself, while she steadfastly rearranges and pulls up her own clothes. Eventually I manage to get her on her stomach and pull down her spandex pants and leopard skin panties to eat her out from behind. In the struggle, I rip a large hole in her nylons. She feigns surprise, but she cannot hide her naughty satisfaction. Her butt is large and shapely for such a small slender body; I easily scooped her up and lifted her at one moment, and she must weigh no more than 40 something kg. The following attack of cunnilingus makes her go mad with pleasure, but I hold on tight despite her violent spasms and intermingled shouts of "yes" and "no", as she halfheartedly tries to escape her bliss. When she can't take it any more, she wildly pulls up her pants and jumps out of the bed, and head for the wine.

At some other time I get my fingers in her pussy, and just as she's heading for orgasm I pull them out to tease her. "Sigh, thanks..." As hinted in some article on here, at one time I lick the back of her knee, which startles her with pleasure. "Wow, that actually felt really good! Is that even a thing? Or is it just that your mouth feels so good..." I also use the one move I remember from the "California Pimp" case study: As I lounge on the bed with my erect cock out, I wait until she throws a glance at it, and then ask her "why did you stare at my cock?" The long argument that ensues makes sure that my cock is the only thing on her mind.

After several hours have gone by and there's seemingly no end in sight of the "no, stop, I don't want to do this, I have to leave now", I decide to get creative. I undress fully and slip myself in completely under the covers. Not long after I notice the poor horny girl discreetly removing her first piece of clothing, and climbs on top of me and the cover. Obviously pulling away for awhile and leaving her to herself made make some decisions. I knead her back and ask if she wants a massage. She agrees and I take some of my lube in my hands and tell her its massage oil. She looks at it suspiciously, and takes a sniff. "That looks very lubey". Nevertheless she undresses her upper body and I oil her back and breasts, telling her how good her skin feels, and how it works wonder for her skin in the dry winter. She revels in my touch, and when I tell her it's my time, she doesn't hesitate. I put some lube on my cock to confuse her and she asks if she wants the massage there, but then I turn over and let her straddle me to massage my back and shoulders. After the hours of struggle, it is most pleasant to relax and give her the reins.

When I feel ready, I tell her it's her time again and prepare for the fatal strike. She lays down on her stomach and when I remove her pants and underwear this time, she doesn't even seem to notice. Squeezing lube on the crest of her arched back, I give her a loving intimate massage, stroking her buttsphincter and pussy with the side of my hand, massaging her inner thighs and spreading her butt cheeks. "Oh, this is a very intimate kind of massage", she says without moving. Straddling her shining bubble butt with its glistening labia, I push my cock in her pussy and hear her moan "mmm, fuck m....", as her last feigned resistance cutely muffles her sentence. To get in deeper, I forcefully lift up her hips and thrust in with all my might. To my satisfaction, she screams loudly in pleasure. I lay down on top of her and continue thrusting with my face close to hers. I see her face in agony, with her eyes turning all the way up at every new thrust. My life's longest foreplay has made me very sensitive, and soon her pussy overflows with my sperm. I continue fucking her for some minute after cumming, and then with my cock still inside her we look at each other and smile. I pull out and she sits up as I reach around and finger her creamed pussy. "Oops, did I do that?" she asks naughtily and points to a large cum stain on the bed linen where her pussy had been. "I don't know; maybe it was there before we came?", I answer.

I suggest we take a shower and she agrees. We take a hot shower and she gets a little needy and asks me if I think we will meet again. I answer that I'd LIKE us to meet again but I don't know, since I'm leaving the next day and she lives on another continent. We play around with drawing Greek letters in the condensation on the glass door. Eventually I enter her from behind and start to fuck her in the small space. I lift her by the hips for a better angle and gravity helps me thrust deep and hard up into her. She's screaming loudly again as I creampie her a second time. As I convulse and pant she turns around, smiles and asks if it felt good for me, because "it sure looks like it". We're now steaming hot from the long shower and proceed to rinse with colder water.

Due to all the procrastination it's now late, and I ride with her for awhile on the subway in her direction before we say goodbye.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Thu Jan 17, 2019 2:00 pm

Back Home

Now that my cold has abated, I can at last start to go out again. The last two days were complete catastrophes: my approach anxiety was numbing, everything felt uncomfortable and the few girls I assaulted just sneered at me. My online game is perfect though, and a cool Dutch model contacted me on Bumble. Unfortunately she was just at the airport leaving, but we exchanged numbers and have been talking and sexting a lot since yesterday. She'll be back within a few months.

Today

Fantastic. I've been walking all afternoon, and I've seen lots of cute girls but approached no one. The few I tried to approach disappeared into stores. I feel crushed by familiarity. Every part of the scenery has been seen before, every corner harbors the memories of past approaches, successful or unsuccessful. I feel like a painter in front of a canvas completely full of figures and colours: there's no space for my creativity to grow. When I'm in a new city, I feel like every location is thirsty for new stories, that the very walls support me in my mission to enliven their quarter.

Allright, let's face the facts. For better or worse, I'm stuck in Stockholm until June 5th. I have created a schedule that will allow a lot of time for girls: I only mentor one high school student per week, and I'm only going to have one hard university course at a time, combined with lighter courses. I know I'm spoiled. I have almost five months during which I can spend practically every afternoon and weekend meeting women in a city which some experienced seducers hold as the world's foremost, and I'll have no early mornings, so there will be plenty of night game opportunities. I will take all my new tools, combine them with all the old determination and set to work on the old crowd in the old haunts. I shall begin anew, pretend that I'm once again the crazy virgin with nothing to lose. Go back to setting stupid goals and giving up on trying to be a fucking natural. If I don't approach five girls tomorrow I'll cut off my feet and become a monk. Even if the scenery is old and boring, the girls are (mostly) new, and they sure aren't boring. Phone numbers, direct dates: start racking them up.

Regarding cold approach outings:
1. I need to be more severe with myself with regard to warmup: my standards need to start out low, and rise in proportion to how much momentum I feel I have.
2. I need to act a tad bit faster
3. I need to seek out humiliation, remember that I'm nothing, my past success is nothing, every day is a new day, and every day I am Christ on Golgotha.
4. The golden rule: nothing matters compared to action.
5. Go to the club two times a week when it's still free. You've now been trying a couple of clubs, now try hitting Colosseum a lot, the club where you've consistently had the most friendly young girls of your type. Waste less time in bars; God knows you tried the local bars, and went there three times a week for months. Face the fact that girls who hang at bars are not generally your type, and the younger girls drink at home and hit the club directly.

Tempus fugit. Stop writing already and start acting.
A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Wed Feb 13, 2019 5:00 pm

Some recent thoughts on approaching:

1. Teen approach anxiety
Damn, I have once again some of that old approach anxiety regarding mid-teens, my favourite clique. Surely, I can understand why I have it: I have never dated a girl under 17 from street approach, even though I must have approached more than a hundred. It has never worked before, so I infer, erroneously, that it will not work again.

Two rational responses: i) In general: you improve, hence your chance of success with an arbitrary girl grows, so there's not much use looking at experiences from a long time ago. ii) Regarding specifically mid-teens there is, methinks, a set of sexually precocious Lolitas who will step up and actually sleep with the older men most young girls secretly adore (and of these, an even smaller set who doesn't give a fuck and would not only sleep with but even date that older guy). Hence, there are many more girls in this age range than older ones who will adamantly and categorically reject you, notwithstanding their attraction. In e.g. France, girls from this set go to the club (like Alizée did when she was 15), but in Fascist Sweden, this is out of the question.

In general, I know that approaching these girls is mostly very sweet; they will blush and stammer a thank you, and in a way that makes my day. So just fucking do it. It comes down to a very fundamental but not too often voiced condition: to day game you have to break the social contract, you have sever the connection between yourself and the web of norms that is your society, and be a completely free agent. Not until you've done this will you live day game. The only web you're moving in is the one you spin yourself as you move through life like a brush of white paint on a red fence. In a pretentious but deep sense, day game is creation in it's most provocative and life-affirming form.

Image Ah, France, what can I say. This is frequently what awaits the club goer. A medal well deserved.

2. Basics

Remember the basics, man! I know you're less nervous, but that doesn't mean the rules of day game which were handed down on the mount (from God to Chase?) do not apply to you. That means:
- Move physically fast! Approach before it's too late.
- Pre-open with a "hi!" before the compliment or you risk slipping into a drive-by.
- Ask her out on a high point and not at the "end": this is one of the first theses you learned, but still does not implement dependably.
- Fucking warm up and keep momentum. Sigh, I wish I didn't have to repeat these trivialities...

Allright, off to the club to meet some "old" teens...
A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Mon Feb 25, 2019 3:56 pm

I have been and am feeling awesome lately, even though I've had close to zero results with women and only have a single lead (and I'm very much in love with her, so I have to keep my cool and cement my abundance mentality). I have started "lifting religiously" four days a week, as Chase once put it, which together with a house dance class once a week contributes massively. My studies are less encompassing this semester and I can hence dedicate quality time to work-out and not just "fit it in" at the end of the day.

Inspired by Tony's latest post, let's set some long- and short-term goals. First the long-term:

Me in a couple of years

  • What do you look like?

    Like I was sculpted by Michelangelo. I will have gained 5-6 kg of pure extra muscle to weigh around 70 kg, perfect for picking up (in both senses!) tiny girls and giving them all they want. Abdomen and legs will have been added to my list of strong points.

  • Where do you live?

    I am based somewhere on the continent, Italy or France, but am mobile and regularly bounce back to Stockholm to catch up with the ones I love.

  • Who do you bang?

    I will have gotten down a process for midteens, and am spending every night making mad passionate love to lucky fifteeners with rock-solid small buttocks and silky milky skin, penetrating them with a magic world-view that will stay in their hearts a lifetime. Through sheer force of will I have crafted my own norm-breaking world, where I can even have a LTRs with a little adorable monster, à la Luc Besson and Maïwenn Le Besco.

  • Who are your best friends?

    My friends are fellow artists, writers, scientists, life-hackers and Lotharios. Some of them are female. They all burn for and excel at what they do. Most of all, they are unplugged and lethal, they walk their own paths and respect mine. They all contribute to my life -- whether as a wingman, brainstormer or Maecenas -- and value my contribution to theirs.

  • What do you do all day? What do you do for work?

    I work when and where I want to, play when and where I want to. Whenever and wherever I sit down with my laptop, I am efficient and inspired. I will have developed some consulting jobs, including giving talks and workshops in areas tangential to philosophy. I have lots of time to phaze out, alone or with friends, and ponder the beauty of this dirty old universe. My singing skills will have caught up to my mean guitar picking.

Now for this week:

  • Get two phone numbers
  • Get an insta-date.

Cheerios,
A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Sat Mar 02, 2019 7:10 am

Weird night yesterday. Went to an electronic club to see DJ Damian Lazarus. Arrived crazy early and it was more or less only me and the technician there. Chatted with him and he gave me a free drink ticket which somewhat soothed the horribly inflated entrance fee. I started chatting about the concert with a guy called Alex, who introduced me to a large crew of ravers. They told me how they were going to take ecstasy and were quite friendly. Only girlfriends in the group, though.

I'm still painfully bad at dance floor game. I'm still averse to dancing up to girls more aggressively, because it feels desperate and like chasing, and if you're used to day game like I am, it's so deeply ingrained to efficient and never hang around where you're not obviously wanted. I hooked with a bland girl and we made out in the smoking area. Would have pulled to sex for the experience, but she disappeared after going to the bathroom. I'm definitely going to experiment more with dance floor game and being bolder and more crazy. I see clear growth potential.

Honestly I can't recall any girl from yesterday whom I found particularly attractive. Sadly, that's been my experience at most joints in Stockholm lately. I have three hypotheses as to why: i) I'm at home, so it's simply the effect of a certain business-as-usual mindset, ii) when you do a lot of day game, you get spoiled with hoards of pulchritudinous and charming girls, most of whom don't go out to bars and clubs a lot, and iii) the age-limits prevents almost the whole of my favourite demographic to even get inside.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Sun Mar 03, 2019 10:35 am

FR

I worked out pretty late yesterday and ended up going out to the bar around nine thirty. Sausage fest mainly, but when I was about to head out and started up a couple of stairs a small and voluptuous brown skin teenager climbs downwards. She looks like a package of joy so I say "hola!" and beam at hear. She responds and I stop her and introduce myself. It's an awkward and tight space so we try to move a bit to the side. She's on her way to the toilet and -- like all the best girls at bars! -- she's sitting with some tight-knit gang of fellow bubble butts and wet-behind-the-ear choir boys with flushed cheeks and spaghetti arms (I'll never understand how young girls can stand young boys; I'm quite impressed).

Goddamn hard situation where you have to move fast and hard by gut instinct! I should have either invited her to take a drink and waited for her while she went to the john, or gone Dominus and asked if she was single and attempted a number close. It was an important experience -- at some bars these incidental meets is just about the only chance to meet the cream of the most locked in girls, who by the very same token are often the most anxious to meet you (because they're not meeting any new guys). I have to work on super-fast hooking, moving and closing.

Tomorrow the love of my life, miss V, is coming over. I dated her off Tinder two weeks ago, and she's just my type, and I think I'm hers. She's an art student at the hip high school on my street. This week she was off skiing but she's excited to come over after school tomorrow. We'll listen to music and have a good time :) Haven't been this excited (and hence a bit nervous) about meeting a girl since summer.

To feel less vulnerable I have been pressing myself to meet more girls this week. I met a cute girl who was basking in the sun yesterday, leaning against a wall. I slid up and locked in by her side, and opened contextually and followed up with a compliment. She grew up in the area, as I, so we had a lot in common and bonded well. Easy number close, warm hug and she answered my sms. So regarding the goal I set for myself for this week, I failed; only got one number out of two numbers and an instant date. On the other hand, I made more approaches than any other week since my new year in Paris. During the winter, it is probably better to set goals pertaining to approaches and showing up at night venues, rather than results.

A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Sat Mar 09, 2019 5:07 pm

Friday Nightclub

Went to Slakthuset early. Outside I bump into three Polish girls who offer me vodka mixed with raspberries in a bottle. One of them, Sophia, lives here, the other two are only visiting. We go inside and I go to leave my jacket. I meet them again afterwards and we hit the dance floor. The place is still filling up. With the last dance lesson still in my feet, I feel good and enjoy my best dance feel yet. The music is great and Sophia is smiling at me. At moments where the music softens, I talk some in her ear and touch her soft warm body. She is in a tight black dress which compliments her admiringly. At a later time her friends are off and we dance together, touching side by side. The place fills up and she disappears, only to return with her coat on, telling me her friend got thrown out and that she has to leave. She's cute and needy, number closes me and kiss me on the lips. I contact her later when I'm on my way home, but she has already retired. I'll try to hook up with her when her friends have gone home.

Dance floor game, or "caveman game", is one of my hurdles, and an important one at that. When I'm on the dance floor I get into contact with that old insecurity and outcome dependence. It's still hard for me to just get very physical and aggressive with a girl without any IOI:s. The ironic thing is that part of it is a kind of misfiring seduction skillset; I'm so used to Sprezzatura and letting girl's breathe, that the thought of dancing onto them, cramping their space, is unnatural. I realize that to achieve a strong outcome independence I can't be irked by a potential sign of repulsion, can't let it shatter my mood and momentum.

Let's try dance floor game again tonight.
Over and out,
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'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Mon Mar 11, 2019 6:06 am

Saturday Nightclub

Same start as last night, went to the club pretty early. Approached a French girl, Lea, and talked some. Then chatted with a techno freak on speed, Martin. Danced but no hooks. Later as I was resting I approached a nymphet, Cornelia, and was introduced to her sexy friends, just my type. As 18-year-olds they were quite singular in the place. I probably should have stuck with them harder, but they seemed very tight-knit and besides they were lightly chaperoned by a bigger brother (even though his pal was cool; when he accidentally came and interrupted my approach, he apologized and said "oh, so who were you hitting on?". The girls seemed kind of freaked out by the fact that I was out alone; maybe I should have lied? I haven't yet made up my mind about whether to own the fact or not when I'm out. Later on I was dancing with a drunk super sexy chic, and started being a bit physical when I was cock-blocked by a male acquaintance.

The important parts about yesterday: (1) for the first time ever going out alone, I stayed at the club from the time it opened until it closed! This is stupendous: it is one of the fundamental comfort zone goals I have been chasing for years. It means that I'm giving myself the resources to develop the night game skill sets; after all, you have to be there during the whole trajectory of the night to get a feeling for what to do and when. (2) As yesterday, I only had a single beer all night. This truly helps with maintaining a clear perception all night. When I'm out alone, drinking serves no social purpose. (3) Friday was the first time in Sweden I took a promising phone number from a girl at a nightclub.

All in all, what I have to work on, in both night and day game, is to be more pushy, persistent and close-prone. Looking back on the year I've been gaming, this is the one common mistake that stands out.

Here's to going all the way, all the time!
A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby ElderPrice » Tue Mar 12, 2019 1:05 am

Nice job! Congrats on the progress! One trick regarding saying if you're out alone or not: kill two birds with one stone by warming up. Open 20 people, THEN your night officially begins. Not only does this make interactions the rest of the night better, but if confronted with the "are you here alone?" question, you can say "I'm here with my friends!" and point to all you people you just met and befriended. I think an article or two here touched on this idea. Basically when you enter a venue, by opening everyone you befriend everyone. This warms you up and gives you tons of social proof. Like, as you're walking around the club you can re-open, or high five, or whatever with people you already met before and to anyone observing it'll look like you're Mr. Popular.
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Thu Mar 14, 2019 10:30 am

ElderPrice wrote:Nice job! etc

Thanks! Yes, warming up is unbelievably important. I feel that one of the risks of having become a bit better at seduction is that I unwittingly cut down on the warm-up, since I know that I can accomplish things OK anyway, forgetting that the warm-up would make me unstoppable instead of OK. Good to know you're holding me accountable for my journal, haha!

Wednesday: Promising number and date with Sophia
Interesting day. Loafed around town for some hours without spotting any good sets, so I swerved back towards my home. Then, as often happens, just as I exit the subway on my stop I run into a cool chick in leather cap and matching leather jacket. I compliment her and it turns out she's an intelligent 17-y-o (as always, haha! It's really "my" age. Whenever I pick out girls at a long distance in a crowd, they're either 15 or 17) heading to a seminar on "how women have used the devil throughout history". Naturally we match and numberclose. She answered my sms:es excitedly and our date is set for Saturday.

In the evening I had a date with Sophia, the Polish girl I met at the nightclub Friday. We go for a beer in a cellar pub where they have an open blues jam. We make out and grope around a lot, and we have good kiss chemistry (interesting how you immediately know if you are sexually compatible with a girl the first second you kiss; it's like your mouths either fit or not). I get the impulse to pull her to the bathroom, but there are two guys sitting just by it, so we leave instead. She says she has to go home early etc., but obviously follows my lead. We walk over to my place and for the last stretch we hold hands.

I give her some water and she sits in my chair and I let her put on some music, as my usual process. We make out and grope more intensely than before. I try to take off her shirt, but she responds that it is a one piece, and that she doesn't want to take it off, so I take off my own shirt instead. When I unbutton my pants she tries to stop me, lol! But hey, I can whip out my dick in my own home whenever I want, and I do. She keeps saying she "won't have sex tonight", but I don't respond. She is noticeably very turned on dry riding my dick as we make out. I keep my hands inside her shirt and unbutton her bra, so I can fondle her breasts from inside her shirt.

I decide to push away after awhile, lift her up, throw her down on the bed and go take a glass of water. This succeeds in confusing her, and when I come back she can't keep from staring at my cock (silly girls!). That's definitely one of the most hilarious situations I know, when you look at a girl and she just can't keep the eye contact but has to brake it to look down on your cock. Hahaha! Girls have no training with regard to that, because few guys are bold enough to whip out their member early in the escalation.

She walks up against me and I can see the strain in her face, from trying to ignore the fact that I'm holding my cock in my hand. "I can't have sex tonight, and I really have to leave bla bla bla". I answer sarcastically, "Oh, really?". "Yeah, I'm not playing around". That makes me smile a lot. She goes to the bathroom and I put on some new music and relax on the bed. She comes out, puts on her jacket and shoes and come stand needily in the hallway, looking back at me, as so many LMR girls have done before her. She motions me to come to her. I say "au revoir" instead. She sighs "ok" and leaves.

I strayed from routine yesterday, I know, trying to pull on first date. On the other hand, we had amazing kino and I love taking action. Who knows, maybe she had sized me out for boyfriend and would have put up equal resistance on the second date. Anyway, I don't care anymore, since I wasn't enamoured with her.

As I sit and write this at the university library, I have a mounting fever. Guess I pushed myself hard for the last week, with double nightclubs, heavy workouts, day game and making out. Going for some rest, "live to fight another day".

A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Tue Mar 19, 2019 10:29 am

Reflections on a Failed Date

Saturday I met 17-y-o Linnéa from street game earlier in the week, notwithstanding a little fever. Many cafés were full so we ended up going on quite a tour before settling in. She had a strong will and felt immediately whether a place had her preferred ambience or not. Partly because I was sick and lazy, and partly because I haven’t had success lately with short dates, I broke protocol and we had an unusually long chat. I had sms contact with her yesterday, and it’s obvious she rejects me; she’s ”busy this week and the next”. Oh, well.

In hindsight, I see that she was possibly the kind of young girl who does not need to be ”comfort bombed” by an older date. Instead, I might have benefited from ramping up the sexual tension, teasing more and perhaps even pulled. In that, she reminds me of some of the rebellious teenage chicks I met in Italy; the most important part is to dominate and never be boring. I have to constantly remind myself that just because a girl is under 18 she’s not made of porcelain; there’s a spectrum of sensitivity in which I seem to forget the daring end. Let’s have that written down as one of my present goals, to try and recognize the daring kind of youngster.

So for the future: no long dates that do not end with a pull. More playfulness! Preferably involving physical interaction, like ”thumb wars”. I should have picked her up sometime when we were walking, godammit.

A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Wed Mar 27, 2019 6:30 pm

Full and interesting day today. On the way to university, I see one of the best butts I’ve seen all year walking in front of me, hips a-swayin’. Before I have to time to think too much I stride up and open her with a compliment. She responds positively, but is in a hurry, so I close fast and ask if she’s single. She’s not. Breathtaking butt, though, which put me in a good mood. Just the thought that such a higher butt-plane exists is very exciting.

Sits and studies in the library for awhile. Noticed that a cute very thin brunette I’ve seen here lately rises up and leaves just as I’m about to leave too, so I hurry up. Catch up with her in the stairs and opens directly. She also responds positively surprised. She’s called Rebecca and I hook her quite immediately when it turns out she’s a Latin major, since I’m a student of classics and philosophy myself. I ask her what she’s reading right now, and she shows me some autobiographical text by Pierre Abelard, the medieval theologian who famously had his dick cut off by the relatives of a lover. ”If you know your medieval theologians”, she says as a kind of shit test as she pulls it out, which I do and hence pass. I ask if she’s single, get a yes and number close. Send her a funny sms just afterwards, which she responds to. Later in the day I try to schedule the date, but she’s travelling tomorrow so we’ll stay in touch next week.

Have nice lunch with friends, and then an appointment at the ophthalmologist. Turns out I’ll have to wear glasses for two weeks since my eyes are sore from contact lens overuse. Oh, well.

Afterwards I have an exciting date with Samara, the Arabian girl I street stopped last week. She has a very sexy round ass, dark eyes and beautiful face, with a kinky nose piercing. You can tell that she’s probably naughty in bed. I let myself be very bold with her, and I notice she responds very well to teasing. We sit close, thighs touching, and she let’s me touch her face and hair. She grows palpably excited, laughs alot and acts more and more girlishly. As I have to head to a student I’m coaching, she accompanies me even though she’s heading in the other direction, and acts cute and confused when we part. I get all the right signals from this girl, that she’s ready to be fucked next time. Can’t wait.

This day proves the importance of social momentum, all the way from the morning approach. Meeting girls though the day is the key to both happiness and success. I’ve said it before: morning game is fantastic, and something worth trying hard at every day.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Mon Apr 01, 2019 7:10 am

Me and Mondays. Day of defeat. All the angles I’ve painstakingly thrown out during the last two weeks have now returned empty. When it rains it pours, as they say, and it seems like rejections regularly pile up and come all at once in a patch. Rejections are often fine, either if you’re starting out on a new journey or if you’ve got momentum. What knocks me out of balance is when the latest girls turn bad at the same time as my ongoing projects turn to nil.

Looking back, Stockholm has not been kind to me. The three lays I’ve had this year were all abroad, and in the last two months I’ve had no love at all, despite doing more varied game than ever. On an even larger scale, I’ve had four non-Tinder lays in Stockholm in total, and three abroad, despite making billions more approaches at home. Living and gaming in the place where you grew up just doesn’t seem to be worth it. I’m only counting lays here; with regard to good interactions, dates and even pulls, I’ve done fine here. I’m just glad that I’ve realized this so early, and that I have plans for how to incorporate living abroad into my life. I know many foreign men do great in Stockholm, but then they are abroad. Homo sapiens was not meant for staying put; this neolithic lifestyle is still new to us as a species. If it’s clinically tested that living abroad is tied to greater creativity, and creativity is the greatest factor in seduction, then this feeling I have makes a lot of sense.

On another note I suspect that something is off with my game. Hands down, I’ve only been doing this for a year, and I have a vague feeling that the women I meet can sense that. I can’t see any way out it except forward, though, and I think I’ve been fooling myself that I’m somehow out of beginner seducer’s hell. I’m living off dreams and ever more distant memories.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Sun May 12, 2019 9:01 am

Dear diary,

I've been quiet here since I've been pouring my heart out in a private chat with kristian. Together we have posted and continue to post all our approaches in April and May in this document for anyone who wants to check if we're doing our homework! For April I landed at 62 approaches, and 13 numbers/pulls.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Mon May 13, 2019 9:52 am

Hang on in there...
- *sigh* Maybe I should just quit and go back to making noodles...
- Don't quit! Noodles! Don't noodles!
(Kung Fu Panda)


I'm so glad there's just a few weeks left until I'm leaving Sweden. I'm trying to live day by day, but it's just so obvious how I could thrive abroad. There are the occasional breakthroughs, though. Last week I pulled a girl from social circle, i.e. my House dance class. She's featherweight and got drunk from two beers. Started flirting with me like mad, and I pulled the trigger. Horny as hell, she escalated fast, but with her legs spread apart and my cock on her pussy, it turned out that she was a virgin and she freaked out. She had the most amazingly sensitive body, especially the nipples. Even the softest nibble made her squirm.

We laid in bed for hours, and she made me cum on her, though I didn't orgasm because her handjob was too erratic. Eventually she got so horny she was riding my cock without putting it in. In the wee hours she went home; her mom was mad as hell, haha! I could have loved her, but she flaked three times in a row meeting again in the weekend, despite initial interest. So I think it's over. Today's the last dance class, but I'll skip it, not feeling like seeing her after the lack of respect she showed by flaking 15 minutes before three days in a row. There's a limit where magnanimity turns into neediness, and I don't want to cross it.

An older girl I picked up in the street has also been slippery. She studies business. I feel like this is the last time I'll put the least work into day gaming girls who are not teens; I can't stand that busy grown-up schedule, when I know that I probably won't even enjoy the reward that much.

I've gotten some more experience lately with approaching groups of girls on the street, which is satisfactory. I've put this as my improvement project. It all goes towards maximizing momentum when out; drought of multi-sets is considerably rare, while one often encounters situations and places where there just aren't any interesting loners at the moment.

Over and out,
A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Mon Jun 17, 2019 7:05 am

Paris - first two days

Some notes on the most problematic and interesting approaches:

Supersonic: Gamer girl

Opens a girl. When she bows out, a weird guy who seems to be from her group says that he and his friends are making a survey about whether your cock goes to the left or to the right or straight. Then a girl beside him opens me unusually directly, reaching out her hand introducing herself. We talk and I am quite physical with her, and tease her a lot. Eventually she says that some guy is her husband (obvious bullshit) and leave with him very rudely. I wonder what made her loose the initial interest. Maybe I should have numberclosed earlier and left, but I am loathe to make fast numbercloses during nightgame, as it has almost never worked.

Redhaired cutie in Boulogne, 16 yo Nasha

Florent and I exit le métro when we see her, long red hair, short top and a small bubble butt in tight white track pants. I run after her and open. She's one of the most pretty girls I've seen, charming face with stylish glasses. She's must be 16, since she claims to have two year left until her bac. Her sisters were blonde and brunette, and no parents or grandparents red! Said she was not single when I asked. Florent continues to insist that I stop asking this. I am going to try out following his advice (especially with younger girls) here, and stay alert to the results.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Mon Jun 17, 2019 9:28 am

Amsterdam: Nele, first 69

It's summer! Making my way from Stockholm towards Paris by train, I stopped in Copenhagen, Hamburg and Amsterdam. On the street in Amsterdam, I stumbled upon coy 22 yo Fräulein Nele [Neylö] of West German descent. She gladly accompanied me to the exhibition at Hermitage Amsterdam I was heading to, and joined me for tea afterwards. After chatting and sipping, we picked up a bottle of wine at a supermarket and settled on the roof terrace of a museum just by where she lived. It was then a smooth business for us to go up to her student room and very unhesitatingly make love.

The love-making was my most advanced to date. I started out making her cum with my mouth, then I'm pretty sure I gave her a cervical orgasm in adapted missionary, after which I pounded her hard in sandwich doggy until I came. Removing the condom, I suggested we go at it again, so she sucked my penis clean and we put on a new.

This time I started fucking her for quite long in the legs-over-shoulders missionary, a charming position indeed, and when we tired she got on top. After this I made her bend over her desk and fucked her there in front of her window which lets towards the street, which both distressed her and turned her on. She then cowgirled me in her chair, both facing and reversed. I believe I finished off in doggy again.

We rested and chatted, and she redressed. But her clothes were skimpy, with a short blue Manchester skirt and no bra underneath her sleeveless and short black-and-white top, so her supple body was constantly available for groping. Grinding and groping her standing by her desk I quickly grew hard again, and she started jerking my cock. We were out of condoms, so I suggested 69, which I'd never done. She ordered me to lay down and climbed on top. She started sucking me greedily and steadily, and did not waver when I started contracting. She continued sucking hard and tight as I exploded in her mouth, and without wasting a drop she continued sucking me as I hungrily ate her clitoris until she spasmically came so hard and repeatedly, she got nervous and lifted her butt out of reach. When I told her I loved eating her pussy, she complimented me and said I was so good at it; perhaps the best compliment I've ever gotten!

She asked for my number, but I forgot to take hers, so unfortunately I have not contacted her since we parted ways. This sex broke a dry spell for me that has lasted since early February, so it was well-needed. I feel this check-point calls for a recap of where I am today on my sexual journey. Here is a list of what I've experienced so far. (I'm not including pulls without at least manual sex.)

Name/description, age, date, kind of approach, kind of sex. Asterisk means no full cock-pussy penetration

    1*. American Grace, 18, summer 2017, beach approach, first beach date manual sex. I consider her my sexual awakening
    2. Elin, 32, winter 2018, street approach, second date lay
    3*. Swiss math girl, about my age, spring 2018, university approach, second date lay (she came directly to my place)
    4. Thaïs, 15, Saturday June 9th 2018, first date lay (she came directly to my place), turned my life upside down forever
    5. Mexican girl, about my age, September 2018, bar pull
    6. Scottish girl L, 26 (one year older than me), Friday October 6th 2018, bar pull (same bar)
    7*. German girl, twenties, Friday October 12th 2018, university pull, boobs play and handjob with cum on her stomach
    8. Iranian girl, ~20, Novemberish 2018, Tinder, direct sex
    9*. French Marie, 19, end of November-beginning of December 2018, street approach with direct date, oral sex and sleepover third date. First confirmed virgin
    10. Brazilian girl, ~22, December 2018, Tinder, second date lay
    11. French Mia, mid twenties, January 2nd 2019, club bathroom raw sex
    12. Korean-Jordanian Yasmeine from California, 23/24, January 5th 2019, street approach, first date lay
    13. Ukrainian Olga, 22, first met end of January, Tinder, sex first weekend in February after she invited me to visit her in Kiev
    14. German Nele in Amsterdam, 22, Friday June 14th, street approach, instant date sex. First 69!
I'm enjoying the ride and excitingly looking forward to what's next, especially what can happen once you have sex many times with the same woman. I'm also aching to go all the way with a virgin -- it's the last of the original sex goals I set for myself at the beginning of 2018.

For now, "...let the stream of my love sweep into unfrequented channels! How should a stream not finally find its way to the sea!"

A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Sat Jul 06, 2019 12:13 pm

One year ago, I wrote
Last night at twenty four. "Twenty four and there's so much more", as Neil Young sang. My twenty fifth year has been the most important yet. It started out in the wake of Grace and ended in the bosom of Thaïs. In the fall I started small timid programs of approaching girls every day on my way to my morning Physics seminars, and in November I started a journal on GirlsChase, which introduced me to Kristian and ajay, and served to finalize my goals. The critical turning point didn't come, though, until the program I set for Winter break, of full time approaching every day for the whole break. I still remember how majestic and awful the task seemed, how nervous but excited I was. And though it payed off in the form of two dates and one lay, the greatest return was to have firmly crushed a barrier of comfort. From then on, my will was cast in iron. Through the long dark winter months I spent almost every afternoon and every weekend in the malls, after working up my heat with a coffee, walking to and fro in my coat or fur-lined leather jacket, dueling with approach anxiety time and time and time again. Then nothing happened for quite some time. I got IOI:d and met fifteen year old Alexandra, the youngest girl I ever interacted with, but I confused her. I had an instant date with a cute 16-year-old, and even a failed follow-up. Ebba symbolized the initiatory crest of my deepest personal program; now, when I had no problem meeting women in general, I could start meeting the subset of girls who really made up my dreams, my passion. And with Thaïs I have shown to myself that my ultimate gratification is not just a dream or chimaera, but something I can do, that the me I adore the most is something I can, and am already beginning to be. Who could ask for more motivation for a new year?

Now I'm 26, and it's time to gather my thoughts again. I'm back in Paris with new premises. During the fall and winter, I finally mastered night game anxiety and got used to sex. The former meant that I established habits of going out alone every weekend, and eventually being rather comfortable doing so, the latter that I no longer suffer from erectile problems and that I am confident with regard to getting ladies off.

My "professional life" has also reached an important checkpoint. I'm quite done with undergraduate studies, and will write a master thesis. What happens next, when and where I'll apply for graduate studies God knows. Or maybe he doesn't. The point is that I am at a crucial point in my life.

Wednesday I had sex with a 22yo Italian girl from OKCupid who wanted some side action relief from her boyfriend. It was the most intensely orgasmic sex I've given a woman, but it left me quite cold. It just keeps getting clearer and clearer that it's just not worthwhile for me to be with girls that old. Sure, it's useful training, but a sadness keeps nagging me about me not living my best life. Sigh, I guess you can't choose your sexuality, one just has to learn to play with cards one is dealt. Some of us are dealt harder hands: for sure, life in the Western world is a breeze if your fetish is 22-year-olds rather than 15. On the other hand, I wouldn't want to change anything. My sexuality is deeply tied to my general esthetics, to my passions and life philosophy. The altar of youth is also the altar of creativity and antediluvian freedom. The ephebephile is doomed to walk his own path, for better or worse, because there is no map for him to follow, no beaten life trajectory. And one can only keep as close friends the most open-minded of men.

I have tracked down a club here in Paris known for virtually only catering to minors. It is called "Les Planches", and it might very well be the arena where I take my night game to the next level. Tonight I'm going for a first scouting.

A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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Re: Alcman's Odyssey Into Love

Postby Alcman » Wed Aug 07, 2019 5:32 am

Dear diary,

It's been an intense summer. I have lived so much that I've barely had time to write, which is a change compared to last summer when I basically lived in my journal. In a way it also has to do with the fact that last summer constituted a first step for me: my first time living abroad for two months, my first time in Paris and Italy. That was the scout. Now I've taken the giant leap and have moved to Paris for six months.

It's quite charming how the three girls I've slept with this summer represent all the domains of game: one from day game (in Amsterdam), then one from online then one from the club. Nevertheless, I've had striking bad luck with my day game in Paris, and definitely over a hundred approaches have led to but a single date. On the other hand I've gotten around 15 numbers (I might have deleted some), of which a majority answered and at least four are still active and seem promising (Claire and Elise from the métro, Berenice from the street, Ashley on the airplane in the US). Berenice is quite a story of her own though, since she's a wonderful young teen in my favourite demography, and if I get to dating her, it'd be a revolution. And Claire, who lives close to me, might be down for a coffee date today.

I guess this latency is to be expected from normal game in a new Western culture. This is no sex tourism: I'm slowly getting to learn the language and coutumes which make it all smoother. Some time or other I'm going to try a stint in some place like the Philippines or South America just to get the abundance mentality, but that's not now. After all, you should learn to swim before you hit the bubble pool...

If there's something that needs changing a bit, it's the demography I work. I ought to add more tourists and expats by doing game at the bars they patronize. I mean, that's exactly what "Grand Master" did, picking up American tourists at bars in Paris, and his nickname was not for nought. Overall, I've completely lost my bar game here, because the average french terrasse doesn't allow much game. I have thus to find the joints which allow for more classic fluent bar game.

That's all for now,
A.
'Eros once more, Cypris (Aphrodite) being to blame,
sweetly flowing down warms my heart' - Alcman (Spartan poet, 7th century BC, my translation)
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