What I think Is Extra Fun About Women: Selective Morality & Prudence depending on How Hot they Think You are & How Much They want to F&CK you. Or, Is there more to it?

Perhaps it is the same way for men, but it seems like a lot of girls adjust their rules based on how hot they think a guy is. I’ve always accepted the obvious assumption, that attraction and desire often have the power to overwhelm one’s moral or cultural convictions.

But there are some interesting aspects about this that suggest it may not be so simple. I wonder, is it just about attractiveness, or could a guy’s hotness not actually be the objective? Could it be a convenient excuse for girls to bend their own rules and accomplish some other, higher desire?

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Let’s look at a few situations where I’ve seen people shape-shift their fundamental rules with particular attention to elements that contradict the assumption that it is attraction compelling people to redraw their boundaries.


I’ve seen a girl keep her boyfriend waiting for two years, because her chastity was so important, just to lose it her last month in high school to one of the more popular athletes. No, she wasn’t passed out, she wasn’t drugged, and I think her boyfriend was the only person at our school who didn’t know what happened – at the party where she gave it up.

(By the way,  her boyfriend was not at the party with her because he was out of the state attending a grandparent’s funeral).

And, I’m glad you noticed, I played no part in the scandal, hands are clean this time, I mean, I did have sex with her too, but not until years later.

In the mean time, I ran into the boyfriend at a restaurant, Macayo’s, a couple years after high school. I really wanted to tell him everything, but decided it might hurt him more than help. I wonder how much he ever found out.

But was it just the guy’s good looks and popularity that compelled her to give up her virginity, risk her relationship, and reshape her reputation? It is hard to believe, isn’t it? And, she was attractive, so even if the guy she slept with was a little bit out of her league, she certainly could have found a fairly handsome guy to trade up to if she wanted a more handsome or popular boyfriend.

Are there any other aspects of the situation, besides a chance with a member of the school’s A group? Her boyfriend was not around. There was a little bit of drinking. Most of the girls probably dreamed for an opportunity to be the focus of that guy’s affection, so even if they called her a slut, few would probably blame her for her actions. .

Let’s hold on to these thoughts and look at some more examples.


I had this friend who I met when I first got to college. She was brilliantly smart and had an amazing body, but we were both too cool and cautious, and having too much fun with being single, to become a couple – we were so cool, that we would hardly admit we wanted each other. The cool thing was, from the window of my dorm room, I could see the entrance to her dorm;  there were outside stairs up to a door to the second floor of her dorm – it was near her room, so she’d always return through it.

This is where almost all of her dates would follow, right up to the door, drooling with hopes of getting anything. Nobody got through that door. She had many dates. When she wasn’t at a sorority  function, she was usually being wined and dined by the many wealthy men wanting to impress her around Los Angeles. Both of us lived in honors dorms, neither of us studied.

I had already studied this kind of thing, the moment I met her I knew what none of her suitors seemed to get – Denise was a tease and built her self esteem off of guys wanting her. And, more importantly, she got off on denying them – NOT getting off with them. The way She dressed and acted, who would believe she was still a virgin.

For much of my freshman year I’d watch her dates walk her up to that door. I never saw her give more than a peck to a single one of them. I’d have a shot and throw on some cologne because most of the time she’d head over to my room soon after; when she didn’t, I’d go to hers.

The only Ferrari I drove during college was hers, her and her sister each got their own as a high school graduation present. I didn’t have the money that some of her dates and “boyfriends” spent on her – but I had her asking me to teach her how to give me head after they dropped her off, and a couple years later, yes she held out that long, I had her virginity, she asked me to take it.

Yes, this does relate to the discussion, I think. The point is that she prided herself on her virginity and practically defined herself by being a tease and not putting out, but she changed her whole cosmology because of chemistry?

This story  is even more inconsistent to theory than the first. While there was wild chemistry between us and Denise did have a strong attraction to me, she had so many pursuers to choose from, there had to have been plenty who were hotter than i was, no way was I this girls only decent option, she could have scored far hotter I’m sure.

So, what else about the situation was abnormal or remarkable?  Here’s something, I never made my intentions or desire for her public; most of our love affair was our little secret. Few of her friends knew about our dorm room rendezvous; also, I never interfered with or raised issue about her highly active dating life.

Let’s let those thoughts bake a bit and look at one more example before seeing if we can assemble any theories.


In high school I ended up the writer and director of our class play each year. After our class had won the competition for the first two years, I had accrued some power over the project; I was head honcho, just like a big-time Hollywood producer, if you substitute in geeky school kids for gorgeous, famous actors, and replace brilliant, Tarantino-esq scripts with cliche-riddled gibberish.

But, evidently I had assumed enough power to decide I needed a personal assistant, secretary, so I appointed one. It is possible she was the only one who volunteered, don’t remember. She was sort of cute in the most unpopular, not-trying-at-all, extremely Mormon, never-kissed-a-guy sort of way.

Actually, she did have a BINO (boyfriend in name only) that went to her church, she said they had kissed once and she shared with me her predicament – the guy had been pressuring her for more kissing. Don’t be skeptical, I’m’ not making this shit up! Have you not known any deeply brainwashed committed, adorably naive teenage Mormons?

Through the years I have come to appreciate Mormons, and a little naive innocents – let’s  be generous and call it goodness.

It isn’t a stretch to say that I was out of her league in terms of high school desirability; had she not been thrust into the spotlight as my important, personal secretary, we probably would have never had a conversation. Relax, I’m not bragging, this distinction is critical to what what we’re analyzing.

So, this girl Tamarin .. (WHAT?, I didn’t name her – she’s Mormon, give her a break) .. anyway, Tamarin had kissed a guy once, I’d wager there wasn’t an abundance of tongue involved, but by our third play writing session, she was grabbing my cock with one hand and taking notes with the other. Sort of.

It was strange, we just pretended like nothing  was happening. The first couple times she just sort of rested her hand on me while I was half way hard, at least. We never took it out. We never kissed or did anything else that would obviate something intimate or imprudent was happening. It became our routine, she’d hold onto my cock every time we met up.

After a couple times, she moved her hand and rubbed my cock just enough to make me cum, and going forward, that part was incorporated  into our meetups. A few times I got so turned on that I did pull her pants down to see her in panties, or touch here ass, that was the farthest it went. She wasn’t getting touched, or coming, or anything really – not sure what she was getting out of it – if anything, but she did it every time.

She acted like nothing was happening, but a couple times I saw her almost get worked up and show signs of being really turned on. It was hurting my cock because I couldn’t take it out of my jeans, so after a few painful times, I thought I would try wearing sweat pants. I was worried about avoiding the pain and it didn’t occur to me until we got started, that the sweatpants were closer to wearing nothing than they were to wearing jeans. My shape, and contours were all available. She actually looked down and stroked a little, she let out a few deep breaths, and a few of the times she looked right down at me while I came – saw the wet spot  grow as my cum seeped through.

Tamarin was concerned about too many kisses, and a few weeks later, hand jobs were routine, – did she change her boundaries because she thought I was hot – or, hotter than her normal catch?

Again, like with the other stories, it is hard to give physical attraction so much credit. Are there any other unique or remarkable factors in this story, that might contribute to a more reasonable explanation?

A couple aspects stand out – similar to some we’ve identified in the other two situations. For one, there were no witnesses – I would bet that to this day she has not told a living soul what she did. Nobody from her world ever know if she didn’t tell them; for all anyone would know, her morals had never bent. And, we didn’t fool around in any normal ways, we basically pretended like what we were doing wasn’t happening, so it wouldn’t be so hard over time convince oneself to believe nothing really happened.

What does all this mean?

These are just three examples, but they bare similarities to other situations that have happened to me or that I’ve heard about.

I’m going to suggest that physical attraction alone is not enough to compel a girl to move her more solid boundaries. I do believe that physical attraction is critical and the boundaries would not shift without that factor, but there has to also be a second factor. I think the second factor is “rollback-ability.”

Thesis Statement:

People will stretch their boundaries or redefine their morality, if (a) there is enough incentive to do so (physical attraction) and (b) when the situation is such that will allow the boundaries to be restored.

If we are to stretch our boundaries without permanent damage to our moral integrity, we must either break free where nobody who counts on us keeping our prudence, can see us dismiss it. The situation offers determinant containment, or, the situation in itself must provide an excuse or authority with enough weight to pardon such a reprieve from principle.

And in some cases, I believe people let go of themselves in situations they know will force a re-evaluation. Perhaps we break ourselves into some situations that we believe will elevate us to places that paint over where we were, we move to a different world, what we broke or betrayed doesn’t exist anymore, unmaking is efficient fixing.

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Part Five: Vegas Trip

I made us Gin and tonics.  At first, we looked out over the town, quietly. I used the time to figure out what to do – what was happening.

I talked with Terry for a bit while Perlah used my bathroom. She’d just celebrated her 40th birthday, was divorced and had one son starting his first year at UNLV. She talked about what it’s been like living by herself for the first time. Terry was candid – talked about how ironic that she’s been getting hit on for twenty years, and now that she got the house to herself and can have sex anytime she wants, there’s nobody around to fuck. She had recently added a couple toys to her “collection.”

Perlah returned before I’d heard Terry’s complete life story and all her secrets.

“Terry’s finally got her house to herself and evidently she can’t find someone to, um, help her appreciate her new privacy,” I said.

(What? She shared all this personal stuff, why can’t I discuss it?)

Judging by her response, Perlah had already been briefed on Terry’s situation.

I wasn’t feeling too sorry for Terry –  she was quintessential “MILF” – she was already appearing in fantasies and bucket lists all over the world. And, I’m sure many guys would fuck her just to see her breasts. Yes, by “many guys,” I mean, me.

It was around 1:30 when Perlah reminded us that she was expected to be getting off work at 2.

“I should probably leave by 2:30, or 2:45 the very latest.”

I thought it was A fairly generous allowance given her situation.

“Unless…” I schemed, “Maybe they are having you work a second shift to cover for the other dealer who got sick?”‘

“He knows that wouldn’t happen.”

“Speaking of leaving,” Terry said, “I think I’ll be going. Do you want me to walk with you to get an Uber Perlah, or are you good?”

I almost asked Terry to show me her tits –  but thankfully I caught the idea before it left my mouth.

(Yes, I too think it’s a bit shallow for a grown man to fixate upon a woman’s knockers.. in fact, I have often wrestled with this question: is it shallow or immoral to want a woman’s body, and if so, how much reason, other than her boobs, do I need in order to  want someone’s tits without being shallow? None at all according to author Alain de Botton  – who talks about sexual attraction on this youtube video..

Alain thinks we shouldn’t discount physical attraction nor feel shallow or ashamed for appreciating someone’s exterior; because we’re essentially reading their “inside” – identifying and appreciating deeper aspects of a person; furthermore, Alain argues that appreciating, or wanting someone’s body, is how our minds unconsciously read a a person’s genetic history and can predict the healthiness probability of their future offspring.

To explain attraction, Alain suggests that we are all looking for whatever our subconscious feels it lacks from childhood, and we feel attraction when we sense that someone might have it; we desire people who can fulfill our emotional dependencies – basically looking for “a fix,” to to cope with the unconscious trauma of our earliest years. Ultimately, what we’re all just looking for on a deep, subconscious level –  including me by wanting to see Terry’s huge tits, is equilibrium. According to Alain anyway.)

“Sure you don’t want another drink?” I asked.

“Tempting, but I should probably get going….”

Perlah walked out my door with Terry and for a moment I thought she might leave with her. They were talking for a few minutes, I could here but not make out what was being said. I was preparing myself for the worst.
Finally, Perlah came back in.

to be continued – see next post for part five

 

Most Arousing : Silent, Risky & Simple

When we think of where we might find an exquisitely arousing experience – deep sexual satisfaction, visions of three ways, all-night sex marathons , incredibly attractive and skillful lovers,  sexual acts that are particularly kinky or forbidden – or, other such visions of sexual interaction being more grande – stimulation more glutinous.

I still wait for something more spectacular, where I might experience a new level of orgasm, or a transcendent sexual experience – or just one that is as exciting and powerful as it was at first when sex was new; But, the moments of overwhelming arousal, when sexual interaction is deeply fulfilling, almost always come about in situations much less grand, and often too subtle and emotionally complex to imagine or look for: such moments a  remarkable synchronicity of simple elements.

I’ve had a few experiences of the spectacular variety, but there’s only so good physical interaction can feel – and only so good a standard orgasm can be, and while a lot of the spectacular experiences produce optimal orgasms and maxed out pleasureful sensations, actual reward is always about the same – and not all that  much more fulfilling than a good masturbation.

There are times when the limits are broken and sexual interaction is more than orgasm, when orgasms are more than orgasms even, but the ingredients needed to bake such experiences, seem less available in many of the more obvious scenarios. Perhaps  the strongest experiences require a degree or type of sensitivity unable to service the sexual amplitude of extreme or “earth shattering” sexual interaction.

For example, there was an evening I write about in the next SSD book about a condo that I lived in for about a year – that I shared with the owner who rented me the room and another female tenant. Some crazy things happened during those condo days, but one of the most arousing and memorable experiences, was otherwise pretty unspectacular.

One night, while the landlord was away attending  a work related conference, I hung out and drank with the other tenant – who had just become single too. The next night she got home late in the evening after hitting happy hour and dinner with friends after work . She talked  to me in the kitchen for a few minutes, then tells me she’d be back up in a bit – wanted to get out of her work clothes. She returned wearing a very plain white nightshirt – something you’d get at the gap or target even – not Victoria secrets. But, it was just see through enough -her panties and nipples not being shown, but showing  – and the discussion was just provocative enough – that one of those monumental experiences sprung up.

I can’t tell the story here – the point is, the building blocks of this encounter were very simple: a roommate, a basic, white cotton night shirt, by chance us both being there, newly single with landlord gone, and perhaps the spark – a bit of unexpected behavior in my housemate curiously choosing to wear such a normal yet immodest outfit.

That evening saw no three ways, spontaneous animalistic sex,  circus equipment or even handcuffs, yet I can’t remember many times I’ve been more aroused and satisfied. It makes me realize that sexual satisfaction isn’t about being gotten off – it’s about being turned on – it’s about feeling numb with desire and arousal – and the situations that create these feelings are unexpected and complicated, rarely spectacular, and something in us yearns for them.

I’ve had a few wild and grande sexual encounters  (by my square standards) – and they got me off hard – but none have made me so drunk with arousal, that I didn’t know the words I was speaking, or feel on the verge of risking all pride and consequence, trembling with desire, my heart pounding and heads throbbing, only needing an orgasm to stop the orgasming, when I could bare no more. The context surrounding such moments = so remarkable buy rarely spectacular.