Didn't Fuck

[Leavenoblackplume]

I didn’t fuck. She said.
The party last night wasn’t all that great, she was the good part. A black tiny dress was barely covering her body, fishnet stockings the color of her skin ready to be pulled off as she moved her thighs provocatively at the rhythm of music.
I left at two, drunk and not so able to concentrate due to a wicked joint that made the world spin uncontrollably.
Next day I met with the friend who invited me and told me that the morning after, thoughtfully looking at her breakfast, she said: “I didn’t fuck… could it have been my dress?”
Beautiful silly little flower. It was her birthday party, swarming with men that drool at her sight, all craving for a smile, hungry of her.
I can no more but imagine her, sitting in front of a bowl of cereal, wondering if it could have been her dress.
What an inconsiderate fuck I am.

 

[Big Daddy]

This is very interesting.

I've recently became more interested in women's point of view and been talking to friends about this.

From our point of view, it's just so easy for them to fuck. "If they go out with the intent to fuck, they will." And most of them has way more abundance mentality than most men, but the catch is... It's not absolute abundance mentality.

They can get as attractive as they want, it's still a matter of luck for them get by a top male AND boyfriend him. It's a passive process for them.

Its also tougher on them to be rejected. When they go out wanting to fuck and they don't get that -- well, what can they do? What could've it been?

 

[Leavenoblackplume]

Absolutely.
The key word is "passive". It was a whole new way of understanding human behavior for me after seeing things through this lense, this site helped largely. But maybe, even though I have the knowledge, there's still some part of me that hasn't been able to internalize it.

You know? I Initially attended this party with the intent to have sex with this girl, and I knew I could get her, but when I was in front of her seeing the way she moved and imagining her naked I ended wanting more to be drunk than to take her clothes off... I felt castrated.
After my friend told me that thing she said about her dress it kept resonating in my head as if it were my responsability, thats why I wanted to write that, as a reminder of that feeling, some sort of memento mori that makes me recall how much I lliked the dress of that girl and gets me motivated.