Hey guys, first post in here. Hope you like it:

This little adventure started on Thursday. I head to a gay club in Hollywood. Gay clubs – depending on how gay they are – can be some of the most rewarding venues to hunt at night. Let’s take your average club:

• 60-80% guys
• cover charge
• dress code
• girls that are getting hit on all night
• girls that enjoy getting hit on all night

On the other hand, we have gay clubs:

• 60-80% gay guys
• lower or no cover charge
• more lenient or no dress code
• girls that enjoy seeing dudes make out
• girls that are likely not getting hit on by anyone

So if you can stomach the occasional butt-squeeze or crotch-rub from a feisty gay fellow, I say the costs are well worth the benefits. You’re clearing out your competition with a choice to be open-minded.

Anyways, I was at this gay club on Thursday and ended up making out with a tall Burmese girl with juicy lips before her friends dragged her home and away from me. We exchanged information and have been flirting via text – maybe we’ll set plans up next week. But likely not for reasons to follow.

Fast forward to Friday night and I’m standing exactly where the Burmese make-out session went down when I see a god damned angel walk by.

I hustle through the crowd for a chance to say hello. I get to her – she’s waiting for her gay friend. I say hello. She’s receptive but a little shy. Soul-breaking hot. I can’t even think about the effect she had on my physiology without my body tensing up. Short black dress, skinny legs, dolled up, not too much makeup, tasteful jewelry, big eyes, small tattoos, perfect teeth, short, so slim… basically, my dream girl was standing right next to me.

Logistical lightning strikes. Her gay friend exits the bathroom with his gay date. He’s on a Tinder date and brought this dream girl – Winnie – along for the ride. This gay guy from Tinder is really into her friend and immediately sees me as a means to an end. The feeling is mutual and an unspoken agreement was forged. He tells us we look cute together while complimenting my physique (which is nothing impressive, mind you) – I return the sentiment.

Then something interesting happens. The group of three decides to go to a new place. Winnie says “Alright, looks like we’re going to another place. Nice meeting you!”. Now, I’m not one to chase after a clear indicator of disinterest. I think that shit’s disrespectful and – as hot as this girl is – I’m prepared to move onto the next possibility.

Though in this case – it wasn’t an indicator of disinterest. It was insufficient time to make her feel comfortable inviting me along. Enter gay wingman.

Gay Suitor: “Dude come with us!” AKA “I want to get laid and you’re my best shot at splitting them up, let’s go” Me to Winnie: “You cool with that?” Winnie: “Yeah :)”

So we go to the next place. Another gay club. We find a corner to dance in, somewhat isolated from the gay frolicking that surrounds us. The gay dude isolates Winnie’s friend and we have some time to get intimate. Her dress was riding up her legs and I took a second to pull it down for her on a few occasions as we were dancing – which she loved. Physical escalation: mounted.

It gets hot and steamy in the venue. I look around. Most of the dudes are in wifebeaters or less. I’m getting really sweaty. Fuck it. I take my shirt off and rock the wifebeater. She’s into it. Feels my arms up and down, holds onto my shoulders, traps – man, working hard at the gym really pays off.

I eventually pull her in close. Kiss her neck. She turns her face into mine and we have a gentle hover-kiss that lasts for fucking years. Breathing into each other, sweaty, surrounded by gay hotness. I felt… alone with her. Like we were the only ones there. It was kind of… “fabulous”, I believe is the correct term.

Last call. We head out. Winnie’s friend is clearly not into his gay suitor. But Winne now wants to get laid. That’s three people wanting to get laid against one. I feel kind of bad, but dude – if we’re going to work towards any kind of a positive future as a society, we need to start evaluating things pragmatically. Is the happiness of one person more important than the happiness of three people? I think not. Winnie agrees.

As we’re walking towards the parking garage (Winnie doesn’t drink or smoke – which is really hot to me) – I say “Alright so we have a few options here. Are you guys staying together?” To which Winnie’s friend expresses some apprehension. Winnie then immediately – and assertively – chirps up: “Can he stay with you?”

My jaw smashed into the pavement at that point. Wow.

We get to my hotel. I want this girl to fall in love with me. Foreplay for over an hour. Painting new tattoos on every curve of her slender form with my lips, tongue, teeth, and fingernails. Sex for as long as I can before I feel like I’m hurting her.

“Tell me when you want me to come”, I whisper into her ear while I kiss it.

She nods approvingly. And then again in a few moments.

We cuddle. Stare into each others eyes. I lock on to hers, barely smiling. Mine are solid and intense – hers are guarded, but curious. Fleeting. Locking onto mine for a second or two and then glancing elsewhere before coming back. Almost as if she was checking to see if I was still there. For a good 30 minutes we caressed each other while playing this game of hide-and-go-peek. And holy shit was my heart pumping. My breath intensifying. My god damned soul was quivering – I was electrified. This is what I live for.

We spend Friday night and all of Saturday in bed doing that. Fucking, embracing, staring, feeling. It was one of the most intense things I’ve ever experienced.

I offer to take pictures of her tattoos while she lay naked in my bed – this fit, tanned, American Asian goddess in a white bed under white sheets with white pillows under white walls. The pictures came out fantastic.

Saturday night we round up the good sense to crawl out of bed and do something. We head to Long Beach and catch a show at the Laugh Factory after some exploring. A nice little dose of hilarity before the passion resumes.

[pic of her at long beach]

One more night of intensity decorates the weekend before it comes to bittersweet end.

You know – men and women have evolved to be very different beings. It’s common knowledge that women are tuned to be selectors while men are the competitors. Consequently, women are more attuned to evaluating long-term partner viability through both subconscious and conscious emotional and social mechanisms. This puts them on an emotional playing field where they must be skilled if they are to survive. They must be emotionally sophisticated, guarded and conservative with their hearts – they can’t just open up because everything with a dick will jump right in. This default skepticism means that we men have to jump onto that emotional axis if we want something serious. We must cater to it. We can’t just stay simple and sexual – we have to demonstrate qualities of a leader and a provider, caregiver, someone with emotional intelligence and affection, even with wealth, artistic sensibility, physical capability, and intellectual prowess. Stuff to soothe the evolution-born anxieties that defend women against the male human nature throughout this battle between the sexes. It all ties into reproductive partnership potential, which has its roots in the highly-evolved subconscious. For this reason – which could be horseshit but I choose to believe it based on research and experience – I always err on the side of emotional vulnerability. I open up first. I tell the girl that she makes me feel great. That I’m happy I met her. I give her shit for coming into “my city” from “my own home state” to tease me with hopes and dreams and make feel all gooey.

Granted, I worked up to that stuff with some adaptive escalation (just like with physical escalation), but I got there as quickly as I could because I had two days to make this girl know I was really fucking into her. And generally speaking – girls have a lot more to lose if they make the wrong decision. Like, 9 months and then then the rest of their life. So why the fuck not swallow my pride and tell this girl that she electrocutes my world? I’m chasing a lifelong connection here so I say, when someone special crosses your path, make the roots thick and plant them deep. Tactfully of course. But if they don’t stick, then evaluate, adjust if needed, and resume hunting.

I uber with her to the airport so she can head back home to Massachusetts. We say a simple goodbye, and I tell her that we’d better be meeting up in Miami as soon as she can figure out her work schedule. She smiles a warm smile and says “Ok”.

And just as I finish writing this post, she texts me from her seat in the plane. “I’m taking off :-) I miss you.”

Blog post in case you want to read more of my stories: https://playboyphilosophy.wordpress.com/2015/06/22/dream-girl/

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3lozjs/dream_girl