The swinger lifestyle?

Topic by The Moth Attracted to the Flame

The Moth Attracted to the Flame

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This topic contains 19 replies, has 12 voices, and was last updated by The Moth Attracted to the Flame  The Moth Attracted to the Flame 4 years, 4 months ago.

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  • #107283
    +1

    I’m not planning on getting married. I made that decision. But I keep getting a headache for a way to experience sex without having to commit to a long-term relationship. I’m a virgin, and was always interested in at least experiencing sex, but the women around me are wither preoccupied or have their eyes out for the sagging, vernacular, gangster-rap motherf~~~ers who dick around during their college years.

    Then I get introduced to something called Colette Clubs. A swinger club. I see the pros and cons of this:

    Pros: Good area, nice environment. If you look like you take care of yourself, the likelihood is that you’ll get laid. Nice looking people. You can bring your own drinks. Looks like a reasonable place to have a party.

    Cons: For 21+, so I might have to wait until I go. Single men pay more for membership than single women and couples, as expected in this woman-loving society. May or may not have people who come in with diseases. People may also be trick there, and if that’s the case, I’ll surely have to get a vasectomy.

    I don’t know…I’ll chill out for now. Then see what happens.

    #107295
    +2
    Jon the Ex-Squid
    Jon the Ex-Squid
    Participant
    298

    Have you been to this club or anything similar? I would image its a few couples, some hired strippers (who won’t put out), and a sausagefest of single guys walking around jerking off. Think about it for a few: Dude and his girlfriend go to a swinger’s club. Wall of single guys. Seems like they’d be looking to hook up with another couple.

    If you’re just looking for a hassle-free sexual experience, then get a hooker. If its your first time, save some money and get a GOOD hooker. They know what they’re doing and have zero expectations once they walk out the door.

    I’m all for trying new experiences but I’m not sure you’re going to have anything but frustration if you try to interject yourself into a scene that’s aimed at couples swapping with each other, rather than seeking out a single guy.

    I just looked at the club’s website. Looks like a strip club with a few beds in one area. I dunno man. I’d do some more research before dropping $100.00 just to walk in the door.

    #107297
    +1
    Fermat
    Fermat
    Participant
    3478

    I am 22 approaching 23. I am a virgin. And it doesnt matter to me . That should never be a reason to engage in a lifestyle that reaps no benefits for you long term. You need to think long term about how you’re mental health will be affected by being a part of sexual lifestyle that often breeds unhealthy addictions in exchange for short term pleasures.

    These swinger clubs are bad news. At such a young age invest into a positive experience for yourself that will yield results for your future. At 30 you’ll look back and ask why you wasted money on sex with strangers. The whole “well at least I got laid” reason really doesn’t have merit at that age. Aim to live a life of self discipline and weigh every major investment in your life against that.

    Stealth MGTOW here on this forum has a lot to say about drive focus and discipline. I owe to him that I have this perspective. Set your self to suceed and not just lose your v card because you are too horny to do anything else. I think you are better than that.

    Am I telling you how to spend your money and time? No. Am I telling you things to consider besides 5 min fullfilment when it comes to investing your time and energy into something that could be potentially harmful for you long term? Absolutely.

    I have discovered a truly remarkable list of reasons why women are not necessary for a happy life, but alas this margin is too small to contain it.

    #107370
    Sessna12
    Sessna12
    Participant
    119

    You could just join a frat(cheaper although Same risk of diseases).
    Plenty of women walking around with targets. No need to buy a membership.
    Sebastian

    "We can no more stop him from marrying than we can stop him from making a well researched decision to poke his eyes out with a stick."
    -Sidecar

    #107461
    +1
    RoyDal
    RoyDal
    Participant

    Pay cash only. Do not ever reveal your true name.
    While I’m at it, never order what they laughingly call “champagne”.

    Society asks MGTOWs: Why are you not making more tax-slaves?

    #107493
    +1
    John Woods 13
    John Woods 13
    Participant
    2855

    I’ve never understood those clubs and the swingers in general. I mean, how do you reconcile that in your mind? Just randomly f~~~ing strangers and the next day go on with your life like nothing happened? That is how sociopaths act. Don’t involve yourself with that culture, it will eat at you eventually, both mentally(morals) and physically(diseases). Not to mention that some women you might encounter are expert manipulators and might very well twist your mind using sex and alcohol/drugs and just ruin your life.
    And in general, since you are a virgin, do not underestimate the power that sex can have over your mind, especially when used by a cunning woman. Read some of the introductions here and you will see that even some of the most experienced and strongest willed men have fallen prey to it.
    Simply put, don’t do it. You are just jumping without a parachute out of a plane flying over a crocodile infested swamp.

    The answer is NO. “I could but I won’t”. Memini murum!

    #107494
    +1
    John Woods 13
    John Woods 13
    Participant
    2855

    If you really want to experience sex, then get the best hooker you can afford, make sure she is highly recommended and pay her to show you the best sex that is out there. After that, just know that it’s all down hill from there. If you then think it was so amazing that further investment in it is worth it, then by all means, have as much sex as you can, but be careful. It’s a trap.

    The answer is NO. “I could but I won’t”. Memini murum!

    #107555
    +1
    MonkeyMind
    MonkeyMind
    Participant
    5340

    Trying swinging as a virgin would be a bit like jumping in at the deep end of a pool before learing to swim. For a start you need to be really comfortable with your body and exhibitionistic to be able to f~~~ while other people are watching you. Most men fail porn auditions because it’s really hard to get an erection with a group of people around you. Get some experience banging women solo before even thinking of going anywhere near swinging.

    Aside from the risks of STD’s, even going in wearing a condom is stil a logistical issue. Bang one woman in a threesome and you need to change condoms before banging the other because you can still spread an STD to the other woman via using the same condom.

    #107682
    +5
    EscapedMentalPatient
    EscapedMentalPatient
    Participant
    1489

    From personal experience (albeit “dated” personal experience), these clubs can be a pretty f~~~ed up, psychologically dis-associative place to be. And, if you can’t stand the attitude of women and guys who beg for pussy in general, you might be in for a real treat.

    OP: I’ll caution you to be careful with this, as the thought and fantastical eroticism of swinging and the like can be very satisfying. Some of the actual experiences themselves can be very clumsy, uncomfortable and downright disconnected. But who knows, maybe you will experience something much much better. No two experiences are the same. And hey, there are all manner of ways to swing. Some do it from the comfort of their home, some do the club thing. But just be careful, and above all. Be safe. Very safe. There are some pretty f~~~ing strange people in the universe, and not all is as it appears on the surface.

    It’s good for me, that I finally feel comfortable enough to have a place where I can discuss my f~~~ed up life. I thank MGTOW.com for this. And I thank my brothers here for this. OP: I hope one of my experiences can help you with a pros and cons column.

    I went to a particular club once. Free of charge. So I’ll share an experience in a long post. If you hate long posts, don’t read this. It’s more of a short story than a post. And it’s no hold’s barred. It’s more of a “get comfortable”, grab your ashtray and a beer story.

    As you’ve stated, OP, single men (select single men, keep that in mind) pay a fee to join the club.

    The place I’ve been to was one where women were truly right where they want to be: the absolute, ultimate center of attention. You’ll see them sitting there, (and trust me, there will be more land whales there than anything else) with a huge leering grin, knowing that their true purpose in life of being a keyholder to a vagina has become the paramount focus of attention, and they have to do absolutely nothing but point their finger, and pick who they choose like a Roman emperor in the Colosseum.

    Once the drinks and pills get passed around, it gets truly disgusting. Fat, 2/10 women suddenly believe that they are the hottest thing on earth, and the attention is just f~~~ing lavished on them, because well……………every guy there is there to f~~~ and since there are less women than men, these bitches are just in their perfect element. Most things that irritate MGTOW regarding women are f~~~ing magnified tenfold in these environments.

    I was the lead guitarist / one of the singers in a semi-pro rock band in the 90’s, and we used to play every dive that would tolerate us. Sometimes we got paid, other times it was paid in beer on tap, on house. We had some great times musically speaking, and the amount of pussy was absolutely endless. We were metal, and blues based rock. AC/DC, Thorogood, Priest, Iron Maiden, Rush, Zeppelin, Hendrix, Seger, CCR, Doobie Brothers, Triumph, Great White, FIST, Steve Miller….you get it. The amount of coke, hash, brown sugar, and free everything was pretty limitless. For a guy in his 20’s, with no real aim in life other than to see just how loud you could play Thunderstruck with one hand through a Marshall Stack, it was pretty much a dream. For a while. And I was surprised just how many guys would try to pick you up to f~~~ their wife or swing with them.

    Even if you were butt ugly, and had the requisite long hair, after about 3 hours of playing in front of a bunch of hammered stage-rats, just about any chick in the type of venues we played would bang you. Dirty bang you. Any ole’ which way you chose. You could sweat on stage for five hours and mouth bang a broad without showering.

    And it’s remarkable. When I look back, there was eight of us living in a rented s~~~hole over top of a grocery store in the east end of the city. And we were NOT well-kept. We always had whisky, gin for the broads, vodka, beer, cigarettes, and pot. But god forbid we buy food, shampoo, soap, toothpaste or a new pair of jeans, or pay the f~~~ing electricity bill. Goddamn, we were f~~~ing high as a kite and hammered and thought we were all that, but personal hygiene? We were a bunch of greasy f~~~s with long hair, and about two pairs of underwear to our names.

    When I step back and recall it, the first word that comes to mind is: Dirty.

    Just a plain f~~~ing filthy, dirty, grungy, sweaty, greasy lot of s~~~heads. Guns’n’Roses would have been proud.

    And the women? They didn’t give the slightest s~~~. I can’t imagine playing it “Big Time”. Read Nikki Sixx’s book “The Heroin Diaries” sometime: Motley Crue used to have competitions to see how long they could go without showering for weeks, and still have some chick go down on them and do everything under the sun. After wearing the same pair of leather pants for three weeks: imagine the unapologetic reek.

    One night, after playing the Horseshoe (picture Bob’s Country Bunker from the Blues Brothers, except all bikers), we ended the show and proceeded to have beer #995 of the night. We were sitting around a table, with a bunch of ditchpigs and gutter-sluts starting the after-party. Some creepy motherf~~~er, with pure yellow teeth, a face that fell off the top of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down, and just plain bathroom floor filthy denim bends down and shouts in my ear over the noise of the jukebox “Kid my wife wants to f~~~ you”.

    I said “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?” (this was my first experience with this, and wasn’t even sure of what to do with it)

    “My wife wants to f~~~ the s~~~ out of you!!!”

    “Whatever man” (I was hammered and more than a little confused, although I wouldn’t call myself innocent).

    “No, man, look over there, there she is. C’mon, you wanna f~~~ her?”

    So I look a couple of tables over, and she’s sitting there. Requisite stretch black jeans, spike heel boots with legs crossed, long fake cheap blonde hair with all the black roots, an AC/DC shirt, blood-red lipstick. I didn’t see most of that because there were two absolutely huge cantaloupes trying to escape from underneath her 3/4 sleeve shirt. She was just leering at me, and I’ll never forget those eyes. Just not even really staring at me, but almost into me. She licked her tongue all the way around her lips and that was about it for me. I got a hard-on and all I could think of was her deep-throating me.

    At that point in my life, I’d probably have f~~~ed a keyhole in a door, brothers. I was as pussy-addicted as they came.

    I had f~~~ed fat chicks, skinny chicks, supposed lesbian chicks, bi chicks, ugly chicks, gorgeous chicks, chicks missing teeth, chicks with fake teeth, chicks with no teeth (that sucked when I saw her teeth in a glass in the morning), a mostly deaf chick, I f~~~ed a feminist with unshaven legs, I accidentally almost f~~~ed a chick who had a dick (you’d be f~~~ing surprised just how well some tranny’s can hide s~~~, thank god for my ability to sprint like a motherf~~~er when drunk), a chick with one prosthetic tit, chicks from the bar, chicks with scars, mothers, sisters. I had a lot of cub scout badges when I was a boy, but if there had been badges for f~~~ing, there wouldn’t have been a sash big enough to sew them on to. I don’t say any of this in the manner of conquest or bragging, because there was and is nothing to brag about. I was drunk all the time, and I had absolutely no self-respect. I drank, smoked, f~~~ed and played my guitar. I was a shell of a human being. I was a dirtbag. I can honestly tell you that I really don’t look back on those nights with any sort of rosy glow. I didn’t have a clue who I was, and I was really carrying out a slow form of suicide. But I digress…..

    This guy and his wife “pick me up”. I had had a threesome with two gross chicks before, but I’d never knowingly f~~~ed another guy’s wife (even in my state of complete dirtbaggery, that was one personal rule I adhered to). This was going to be a completely new experience, especially since buddy was going to be watching. I figured we were going to go back to their place, but that wasn’t the case. They took me about ten clicks away over to a club. A relatively underground swinger’s club. The doorman waved us in when he saw the company I was with.

    I very distinctly remember walking in there , and being exposed to a world which I’d never experienced before. The lights were way down, there was a bar in the center of the room. That goddamned Macarena song was playing on 11. There was a pall of nail-coffin smoke rivaling industrial Birmingham replacing any semblance of air. Carpet that used to be red, was a filthy, faded rose, cigarette burns everywhere. There was a cheap brass pole off to the side of the bar, with some stupid, short haired, pierced broad swinging around it, and she looked ridiculous as f~~~. Gravity was doing it’s job and her rolls were flailing about, trying to flee in desperation from the pathetic Michelin woman they were unwillingly attached to. Five or six guys were seated around her drooling, and she was just in heaven. Total center of attention and her face was the advertisement for a can of f~~~ing Dr. Ballard’s. There was cheap ass leather furniture everywhere, and seated in it were some of the most weird looking, hollow-stared, bunch of guys I’ve ever seen. Guys who were in their 40’s and 50’s, dressed in a manner where they were obviously trying to reach back and hang on to a part of their youth they’d either lost, or never had. They were bathed in the sickly glow of cheap pedestal lamps trying to penetrate the aftermath of a carton of Pall Malls. I almost felt I’d entered some dimension from “A Clockwork Orange”, minus the bowler’s hats. That, and……

    The smell. You could smell the Lysol they’d sprayed in the air. You could smell three dollar perfume and f~~~ing Aqua Velva, but it did absolutely nothing to mask the smell. The smell of Ass…….the smell of used pussy………the smell of stale, spilled alcohol, but primarily? The f~~~ing smell of ass. I don’t think a five alarm fire could have hidden the smell. That, and…..

    Fat chicks. About a dozen chicks in one state of chubbery or another. Outnumbered by the outboards by at least three to one. Some were the slightly overweight, camel-toe, “I believe that I can hide those last nineteen orders of large fries and a diet coke with black stretch pants” type. Others were unabashedly f~~~ing enormous. I can’t even describe the manner of dress. Anywhere from thigh-highs to a weird, long, Victorian dress, like a nightie. There were a couple of thin ones, but not the kind of thin that comes from looking after one’s self. The kind of tattoed, bony thin that says “eating disorder” and “Im going to change my hair colour tommorow to escape who I am” with ten cheap silver rings on each rat claw of a finger. A few of these chunks could be classified as about a 4. The rest had no business having a vagina. For all I know, they’d somehow stolen a fish taco and sewed it on, because these were NOT pretty women.

    We sat down on a s~~~ty, pea green couch, and my ass had barely touched the springs before this guy’s wife grabbed onto my crotch. It wasn’t even an erotic handling of my equipment. It was more like a kid who had climbed over the wire from a “Fat Camp”, and found a Snickers bar. Buddy started introducing me to some of the regulars and someone shoved a drink into my hand. Roughly nine parts rye, no parts Coke. He was going on about the gig I’d played and how awesome our band was. His cronies were nodding their melons like bobbleheads and saying all manner of s~~~. I could barely hear, due to the abortion of a track that is the Macarena. This bitch just starts rubbing my johnson like she’s trying to sand 60 year old paint off a chair restoration. I was bobbing almost uncomfortably, and shifting around; it was almost like she was going to rip the thing off and put it in her pocket.

    There were about ten rooms, going off the main agora of the place, with a curtain rod and s~~~ty looking plastic curtains hanging off of them. Some were open, unoccupied. Some were open, with people f~~~ing like rabbits for all to see. Some were closed with god knows what going on behind them. There was a big sign on the bar that said “Respect Always. “Please Pass The Pussy”. We all chatted it up some more. I really started to feel a little unnerved. Even though I’d been to all manner of dives in my life at that point, this place was REALLY out of my element. Then it really started to get weird. Dude points at the sign and says “SAY IT”. I wasn’t sure what he was referring to. “Eh???” “C’mon man, SAY it”. I looked back at the sign, and I slammed back my drink, retched on it a little.

    “What. Please pass the pussy?”

    He says “YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” like the Toronto Maple Leafs had finally scored a cup winning goal.

    She grabs me by the hand and drags me to one of these rooms. She peels her boots and jeans off, in all of about three seconds and lays back on this cheap single mattress, and spreads her legs wide open for all the world to see. Shaven. Been used more than the rubber dispenser at a gay bar. Buddy sits down on this orange plastic chair that’s sitting off to the side. This guy had a look on his face of anticipation that I can only describe as a kid who has opened his first Penthouse magazine right to the centerfold. He’s barely sat down, and he’s already unzipped and has his c~~~ in his hand, and starts jerking it. At this point, I’d gone past the zone of being comfortable and just entered into an un-calculated Zombie like state. There was a bowl of rubbers on a little night stand, so I reached in and just grabbed what I could grab. I took off my jeans, and jerked it a bit, as I had some whisky dick going on. I put the safe on and climbed on top of her……

    I had barely got my knees on the bed and this skank grabs my wick, just jams it in her snatch and starts jackhammering. I mean, I had barely even gotten my balance, and wasn’t moving at all and this chick is just slamming me. She wraps her legs around my waist, and I s~~~ you not, this woman was actually HURTING me. She had her arms latched around my neck and was just f~~~ing going to town. And I can tell you this. It was 100% mechanical. To the point of being surreal and creepy.

    She wasn’t even remotely looking at me. She had this wide-eyed expectant stare, with this completely fabricated, weird, Joker-like grin on her face and she stared directly into the eyes of her husband. The sound coming out of her mouth might as well have been on a loop. She was spouting out a fake “OH OH OH OH OH OH I’m about to come” sound, timed almost perfectly to the second. There was zero eroticism there, there was zero enjoyment in her voice. Just “OH OH OH OH OH OH OH OH”. It might as well have been a siren.

    Buddy is jerking off, half-limp, like he’s trying to REMOVE the goddamned thing for eternity. He’s staring right back at her, glancing back and forth from my ass, to her face. “F~~~ HER MAN YEAH F~~~ HER”.

    At this point, I’ve slid into this feeling of being completely disassociated with my body. I’m just holding myself up, push-up style, and this lizard of a woman is jussssssssst f~~~ing hammering me.

    Then it happened. All of a sudden I feel a hand on my ass, going for the crack. I look over, and Johnny Limp-Be-Dick has his goddamned hand on my ass. I recoiled in horror, and just yelled “WHAT THE F~~~”. I ripped my wick out of this broad fast enough for the rubber to come off and stay inside of her, and whipped back on my knees.

    Both of them were in a bit of shock, and she snapped her legs closed together like a mouse-trap firing.

    He says: “What the f~~~ man, I just wanna PLAY a little”.

    I had snapped back into reality, and suddenly felt sober as a judge. “WHAT THE F~~~, YOU F~~~ING F~~~~~, WHAT THE F~~~”. I grabbed my jeans and put those bastards on faster than I ever had before, and ever have since.

    Things from that point forward went very quickly. I knew I was in a bad spot, and since the c~~~warmer had now started to cry a little bit, I knew things were probably about to get one hell of a lot worse. I was a stranger in a strange land, and had zero allies. There was a doorman the size of a f~~~ing refrigerator, this man had several friends in the place, and everyone was under the influence of something.

    I didn’t even put my shoes on. Before anyone could react any further, and before things could turn ugly, I grabbed my jacket, I went straight out that door, straight through the main room, straight past the bouncer, and straight out the entrance bare-footed. I had left the “breeding room” at a brisk walk, but by the time I was in the middle of the main room, I broke into a f~~~ing sprint.

    I went out that main door, and tripped down the last four or five steps of the concrete stairs, and landed square on the side of my face. There’s nothing like a good bit of concrete smashing into your face to “get you up in the morning”. I got back up, rammed my nikes on as fast as I could, and started a really brisk walk west. I heard the steel door to the place swing open and smash into the railing, and someone yelled “HEY!!!!”.

    I didn’t even look back. I f~~~ed off down an alley at approximately “Here Comes A Velociraptor” miles per hour.

    After I had made it about five blocks, I sat down on a curb in a semi-residential area to catch my breath. The alcohol began to creep back into me, and my face was hurting like a motherf~~~er. I lit a cigarette, and sucked it into my already panting lungs. I used to carry a flask back then, full of Southern Comfort. I think that’s the fastest I’ve ever drank something and smoked a cigarette. I finished that smoke in about four hauls, and sucked on that flask like I’d just been pulled out of my mother’s womb and placed at her tit.

    So, at 4 a.m., on a raining Saturday night, sitting on a curb, in the wrong end of town, 15 klicks or so from home, I decided that “Swinging” at a club just wasn’t for me.

    I walked home in the rain, climbed up the huge set of stairs to the bandhouse, and walked in. Unsurprisingly, the boys were partying, a few people were passed out on the floor. The requisite drunken idiot who never knows how to play the drums but has always wanted to was beating the s~~~ out of our house Ludwig drum set. My bassist looked up at me; “What the f~~~ happened to your face dude?”

    “I got into a little scrape downtown”. I went into the kitchen (latin for liquor repository, I swear to god the only thing in that fridge was mustard and a brewery), saw a half-done bottle of gin, and drained that f~~~er like I’d walked the Sahara without water.

    The story didn’t have a happy ending either. Despite the condom, I got checked out a couple of days later and had Chlamydia. After a couple of doses of that stomach-scorching Doxycycline, I was free of it, but that was a super good reminder.

    So, if you’ve read this diatribe to completion, I thank you.

    If you’re considering swinging, this was a nice little worse-case scenario of how things can possibly go.

    But who knows? In this day and age, you might hook up with a total fox, disease free and have a great, life-changing experience.

    I do urge that you be very careful, very selective, and really do your homework on the matter though. Meet the people who you’re going to do it with beforehand, over coffee or the like. Not under the influence of anything. It might take away from the spontaneity of the event for you, but it might also save you from one of the weirdest goddamn things that can happen to you.

    Cheers, brother.

    #107769

    Anonymous
    12

    Never been to a swingers party and never will. However I have met women who have been to them as well as women who are into Poly and other types of kink and alternate lifestyles. They are usually overweight and I mean really overweight not just a few extra pounds, they also tend to be kind of dumb, loud and crass. One woman I chatted with didn’t seem to notice or care that we were in a crowded cafe when she was talking to me how she went crazy and went to these places and was basically f~~~ed stupid by horny men.

    The other thing is you have to be careful about anything that charges men and not women/couples. Look at Ashley Madison for a start lots of fake female profiles, a club would be similar probably lots of curious women who get in for free and then have men buy them drinks, maybe some paid better looking women to help inspire drink sales and some couples f~~~ing in private rooms while you bang your head against the wall spending money not to get laid.

    Just go to a brothel, if brothels/escorts aren’t legal where you are then really you aren’t missing much anyway.

    #107785
    +1

    Anonymous
    42

    I don’t think a five alarm fire could have hidden the smell. That, and…..

    Hey Willy, great read! I went to a club with strippers named the 5th alarm, only 16 years old, under age drunk, and making out with a stripper!

    with ten cheap silver rings on each rat claw of a finger.

    You’re a Lyrical Maestro!
    Your flask of Southern Comfort brought back memories strong enough to make me belch!
    I was 14 or 15 and drank almost a 5th, I woke up in someones VW beetle, dry as the Sahara, puke stained cloths, and I lost my bicycle somewhere in the night before, to which I still can’t remember! For years and years the smell of Southern Comport would make me sick and want to puke, I NEVER DRANK IT AGAIN! Even in your story it strikes an ugly chord!

    #107788
    +1
    EscapedMentalPatient
    EscapedMentalPatient
    Participant
    1489

    Escaped Mental Patient wrote:

    I don’t think a five alarm fire could have hidden the smell. That, and…..

    Hey Willy, great read! I went to a club with strippers named the 5th alarm, only 16 years old, under age drunk, and making out with a stripper!

    Escaped Mental Patient wrote:

    with ten cheap silver rings on each rat claw of a finger.

    You’re a Lyrical Maestro!
    Your flask of Southern Comfort brought back memories strong enough to make me belch!
    I was 14 or 15 and drank almost a 5th, I woke up in someones VW beetle, dry as the Sahara, puke stained cloths, and I lost my bicycle somewhere in the night before, to which I still can’t remember! For years and years the smell of Southern Comport would make me sick and want to puke, I NEVER DRANK IT AGAIN! Even in your story it strikes an ugly chord!

    Thanks brother Tower, although I still think you’re the king of metaphor.

    Ah yes, the underage drunk years. I started pretty young too, and I’m sure we could swap some pretty hilarious stories man.

    And it’s funny you say that about Southern Comfort; it gives me a pretty strong reflex action now too. I can’t believe I used to love the stuff. Now, it almost reminds me of cough syrup or some kind of medicine at times.

    #107836
    +1

    Anonymous
    42

    I can’t believe I drank the whole thing!!!
    We have allot in common, but I think you were a little more extreme! We played in the park, and outside at night after hours, we even played on my car stereo (stereo equalizer amplifier), something about music attracts all the woombats, like we were a cluster of mosquitoes.
    Dude, I got laid at 11, perverted by 12, couldn’t count anymore by the time I was 18, I’ve got stories I can barely remember and some that I can’t, just blurry memories of girls in the back seat, who knows, maybe I’m actually a father, EEEEEKS!
    I had to go Monk, otherwise I knew I’d surly die. I quit drinking and smoking March madness 1992, by 1997 I had rid myself of women too! Theirs no going back, it’s something I just won’t do! My life since March 92 took off like a shot!
    My focus changed, it was something gnawing away deep inside, something I was determined to do! Here I am very much alive inside, I no longer feel the reapers grip.
    If anyone wants to feel alive inside, when it comes to women, then MGTOW is what you must do!

    #107846
    +1
    EscapedMentalPatient
    EscapedMentalPatient
    Participant
    1489

    I had to go Monk, otherwise I knew I’d surly die. I quit drinking and smoking March madness 1992, by 1997 I had rid myself of women too! Theirs no going back, it’s something I just won’t do! My life since March 92 took off like a shot!
    My focus changed, it was something gnawing away deep inside, something I was determined to do! Here I am very much alive inside, I no longer feel the reapers grip.
    If anyone wants to feel alive inside, when it comes to women, then MGTOW is what you must do!

    It’s one hell of an accomplishment to pull off what you’ve done, and staying true to it. That sort of inner strength is very hard to come by, and focus can be a bitch when one has all that s~~~ thrown in there. You’re obviously tough as nails, and it shows.

    I stayed away from alcohol for a number of years, and then went back to it on a casual basis. There are times when I still use it improperly, but I tend to keep that very under control. I’ve never let myself get to a point again where it caused issue in my life, and there’s the odd time I step away from it again whenever I feel that it’s having a negative ramification. As with all other things in my life. I don’t like people invading my life with negative influences, so I tend to stamp them out, with little remorse. It’s amazing how people like us just simply want to live our lives, be left alone in peace, and people will STILL try to jeopardize or harm that. I’m glad to have made a friend of you here.

    Being woman-free has been the most rewarding thing I’ve ever experienced. After a number of years of being away from them, it’s just amazing how one realizes that they were never necessary in any way, shape or form. It’s ALL construct and programming. And I love it. It’s so hard sometimes to watch a married guy, or a blue pill guy wandering around, programmed in that mainframe. It’s maddening, and very sad all at the same time.

    Sometimes I wish I could flip a switch that would free my brothers, but I guess we all have to come to our respective places of our own volition.

    Cheers brother.

    #107851
    +1
    Jon the Ex-Squid
    Jon the Ex-Squid
    Participant
    298

    From personal experience (albeit “dated” personal experience), these clubs can be a pretty f~~~ed up, psychologically dis-associative place to be. And, if you can’t stand the attitude of women and guys who beg for pussy in general, you might be in for a real treat.

    So. I’ve had a few beers. Read this point. And I think I broke something in my cheek from grinning so wide. Well done, sir. Bravo Zulu. I’m encouraged to write about a foray I had at NYC’s Hellfire Club in the late 1990s some day when these tiny little words aren’t swirling around as I type.

    #107854

    Anonymous
    42

    Thanks Willy, you know how to make a guy feel welcome! Hard as nails? yes! My motto; cross me once, and I’ll pound a spike through your head and laugh while you’re dead….

    #107860
    K
    Hitman
    Participant

    don’t waste your time at clubs ..get a professional..it’s worth it ..avoid v.d ! . that trip to the clinic is mighty embarassing.. and may not cure what you can catch ..

    #107861
    EscapedMentalPatient
    EscapedMentalPatient
    Participant
    1489

    Escaped Mental Patient wrote:

    From personal experience (albeit “dated” personal experience), these clubs can be a pretty f~~~ed up, psychologically dis-associative place to be. And, if you can’t stand the attitude of women and guys who beg for pussy in general, you might be in for a real treat.

    So. I’ve had a few beers. Read this point. And I think I broke something in my cheek from grinning so wide. Well done, sir. Bravo Zulu. I’m encouraged to write about a foray I had at NYC’s Hellfire Club in the late 1990s some day when these tiny little words aren’t swirling around as I type.

    😀 I look forward to this telling, Mr. Ex-Squid. I have a feeling it’s going to be a gooder. Bravo Zulu, Roger Wilco, sir. Have another beer for me.

    Thanks Willy, you know how to make a guy feel welcome! Hard as nails? yes! My motto; cross me once, and I’ll pound a spike through your head and laugh while you’re dead….

    Hope to Christ no one crosses you twice hahahahahahaha

    #108417
    Phantom
    Phantom
    Participant
    3328

    @Lacon, Hey man. What I wouldn’t give to be back where you are now. Not so much because losing my virginity was some sacred thing to me, but more because of how and with who took it from me when I was a kid. She was alright I guess. was a teenage foster chick my aunt & uncle had for a while.

    I was so young, I am not even sure of what age I really was. Nor did I even know what had happened until I got older. In short, got laid & didn’t even know that was what it was called, or that it had happened. Kinda funny now, as I look back on it.

    After reading other posts here, I just wanted to also through my 2 cents out your way…

    I am going to assume that you are in your early mid 20’s here. This is the worst part of being a man in some ways, to me. The females are in their prime, LOOKS wise, and all the hot one’s have to do, is just look and smile really. If they bat their eyes, twirl their hair, flip their hair, wink & lick their lips, your hormones go off the charts.

    The other issue here, is they know the wall is approaching. That’s what we refer to it as. They call it their biological clock is ticking. For those that are wanting to extract resources, or more to the point…wanting to sell their vagina at top dollar, they are fighting time, to get married or at least have baby(s) for CS.

    As a young man, it usually translates, girls my age only want older men, or bad boys. older men attract them for said resources, and bad boys attract them biologically for “strong genes”. I am not saying that is the case, it’s just how it seems to be processed by said females. What I keep hearing anyway.

    If you look like you take care of yourself, the likelihood is that you’ll get laid.

    Seeing that this is #1 priority in dealing with the virginity issue, and if you want to do more than a swinger/hooker option, then you will have to figure out how to lie with your eyes, face & body language.

    You have to act like you couldn’t give a s~~~ if the chick is into you or not. Even in their quest to “secure” their future, with extraction of resources, by way of marriage/kids/divorce/, many also have it on their agenda to ride the c~~~ carousel as well. Yes, even the one’s that look like Miss Goodie does nothing vulgar and acts like a lady.

    If you have any kind of cool wheels, these can be instant babe magnet….for she will think you have money, and it looks cool to her image, to ride in.

    But I keep getting a headache for a way to experience sex without having to commit to a long-term relationship.

    Females change their minds like the 4 winds, and claim we men never learn. Start off going for the I am into some kind of relationship. It is true to an extent, assuming you would like to bang her more than once and have some kind of emotional or intimate experience to go along with the sex.

    If you only want to bang her once, not to worry. Just change your mind after. Play or be played, take your pick.

    If she IS a virgin TOO, this can be a REAL issue. She will want to lock you down for vagina bragging rights. ” I, with the power of my golden vagina, married the one I gave it too” kinda s~~~. Of course, she will not be direct, she will say it’s love, because you were her first, etc.

    If however, you do not want feelings/emotions involved in your first experience, then by all means, a GOOD hooker that has already been mentioned, is your best option. Then you only have the feelings/emotions on the physical level.

    In closing, the getting involved with females these days is a very risky proposition, and the seduction can be strong. Especially the first time. Protecting yourself from a disease & unwanted pregnancy are just 2 of the major pitfalls. Not being accused of a false rape, and getting sucked into marriage and/or divorce sooner or later, as well.

    @EMP, I really enjoyed your post in this thread. Thank you for taking the time to share it. I did sit back and drink some Foster’s while reading it.

    #109713

    God damn, EMP. That was a nice read you got there.

    I now know what to expect if I had this lifestyle. This is only tentative; I’m not dedicated to anything just yet. But, thanks a lot for giving me this insight on your experiences with swinging.

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