The Cool Spectrum

You can't feed a lion with bird food. 

Of course, you want more, you're the man and you demand more of yourself. You calmly call her bluff, there are other men who'll want to stick around and play the friend role. We can't never be friends, I don't know you, I can't trust you, but rarely the likes of us mix, so you make a few concessions, so long as you meet half way. For instance, we no longer go to the movies, so she suggested first to forget the movie and go to the local bar instead. Then she suggested we sit on a two-people round table by the speaker, where everyone could see us. I wanted to go to the back, where the comfy chairs give a more intimate feeling, quieter too. 

We had walked under the rain there. Then she ordered buffalo wings and a beer. "Okay, what gives?" I called her out with a smile on my face: "First, you want to come here, then you drink beer and order wings." She's full of pleasant surprises.
I wanted oblivion, so I had three long island iced-teas; luckily, they weren't that strong. She didn't want to do shots. She paid for what she drank and ate, and we ended up in the sofa, I was slightly inebriated, so I got soft touching her hair, kissing her face, wrapping our legs, me in underwear. We watched a couple of episodes of Nip/Tuck. I didn't make a move. I kissed her forcibly a couple of times, sloppy move but just so that she doesn't get too comfortable around me, sometimes even spanking her as she walks by. She'd resist me taking her pants off, but doesn't remove my hands between her legs a moment later. I grab the palm of her hand and place it on the left side of my chest: "Hear how my pulse doesn't escape a beat" I whisper in her ear. Like a river galloping under her statuesque body, her breathing increases as the scenes depicted on screen get sexier, her pupils widen, my hand retreats all the way to her hair, I love the way it smells: follow tact by smell, immersed in a dance of senses. 

I look at her in the eye and show no fear, like I would an incestuous sister. Then I see an aperture, an orifice in the delicate fabric of schemes, and I take it. I have seen this episode, not missing much, so I picked her apart. 

Of course a lion has a big appetite, but girls, when it comes to the passions, are more like birds. If they know they can have your company without having to put out, then they're going to do just that. You need to be patient, too, because oftentimes girls require more space and time, we hold hands, cuddle and once upon a time had sex. Of course, you want to make the girl feel safe and relax around you; therefore you should be sure of yourself and relaxed around her. By doing the opposite, by being all over her, you're telegraphing your neediness (your own insatiable self, your self-deprecation, your very own savage's mental cave). As a man, you get to make a move, but don't make one every few minutes: it looses its potency. You need to establish value, not depreciate your stake. Don't be picking up the crumbs. However, if she doesn't want to have sex, it's fine; just don't settle for less. This is an opportunity to practice tantric love: spiritual oneness, center, kindness . You have her being, do not ask for more than what is given right this moment; what you want, you will take, and you show more character by drawing the line, like erecting a wall, between you and the world, sometimes inviting her in, at certain times shutting her out. You act kindly towards her simply by being patient, paying attention to details concealed in the subtle shift of movemeny. You show up by not overcrowding her, by not giving in to temptation, by tempting her, by exuding a cool spectrum where everything that surrounds you inevitably gets pulled by your gravitational core. You want to go really slow, be ever so firm, breath fully, take no shortcuts, and never be out of control.