How To Get The Pussy (To Hug Your Dick), And Keep The Pussy

So, you wanna get laid... I have a secret for you. Two secrets actually...


1. You are not alone in your quest. In fact, almost EVERY guy who contacts a woman online, or in the real world, shares that goal. There's a very good chance that if you've noticed she is neato and sexy and smart, and you might like to stick your dick into her warmth, others have also noticed and feel the same about the dick sticking, too. There's an even greater chance that if she's a grown up, noticing her awesomeness isn't enough to win the prize... read the blog, this is not the first time this theme has been noted ;)

2. Is this redundant as a second point? Yes. But repetition is a good way to learn new things: Pay Attention IF you truly want that booty prize. "Easiest thing in the world!" Seriously, why haven't you figured this out yet? I thought you said you WANTED to get laid...

Let's break it down... you want her to meet your needs. Nothing wrong with that. IF you're willing to reciprocate. Otherwise you're a grown child looking for a mommy (who has no needs as far as her children are concerned), to fuck you... those kind of rescuer/caretakers are rare and when they finally go "postal" over the martyrdom, it ain't pretty. I digress.

I have a special little pussy in my life. Not a vagina this time, an actual cat. I know it's hard to grasp these simple concepts that will help you reach your goals, if or when you choose to apply them, so this is a great example to help you understand the cause and effect relationship in the "Score Some Pussy" playground.

Unlike a human woman, my sweet little friend didn't have much of a choice about coming to live at my house. It's not as if she could just pack up her bags and hop on a bus to greener pastures. Initially we thought she was just antisocial and left her to it. But after a week or two, it dawned on us that she might be too scared to trust humans again, after all she'd been through (let's just leave it at "She has been through a lot.", it's true of most people, too.).

Of course we wanted her magical cat wisdoms and companionship but how could we convince this sweet little creature that we truly meant it when we said we'd take care of her, and that we weren't just using her selfishly for our own comforts? Telling her was out of the question as cats and humans speak different languages allegedly. The only thing left to do was to pay attention and follow through on the commitment we'd made. So we did.

We continued to feed her the high quality food she likes, kept the box clean, broke up cat fights between her and the other cat when she slipped in to "fight or flight" mode, respected her when she said "no pats, bitch" (which was often in those days), didn't tell her it was just her period when she got spooked by the broom falling over or someone coughing up a lung at 4:20, greeted her warmly when we returned from our adventuring, hired a human companion when we'd be gone for more than 48 hours and generally ACTED CONSISTENTLY to show her that we weren't full of shit.

And you know what happened? The sweet little furball, who'd previously hidden in bed all day like a depressed teenager, then disappeared to some other squishy spot when the humans came to sleep, started to believe all the "lines" we'd been feeding her. Granted, she learned a lot about using humans for affection from her adoptive brother but he can't have all the credit, we worked hard against her previous conditioning that humans are shitheads. 

Curiously, my partner was more aggressive about smothering her with affection, and she accepted it, tensely at first, but it was my lap she crawled into one day while I sat typing at the computer. It only lasted about 20 seconds, until I reached for my smokes and rustled a paper on the desk, and I waited patiently for another three weeks for her to try it again. 

Then one night when I went to bed early, she sighed when I came in and got up to move. I simply told her "You're welcome to stay, there's enough room for both of us to be squishy." She was reluctant, feeling spooked by "all the noise" I was making getting undressed but she stayed. 

I crawled in beside her and set myself up, book in one hand, the other extended to comfort her from a "safe" distance. She stayed and she purred. The next night as I lay on my back, book in hand, she meowed softly before she crawled onto my stomach, stretched out and went to sleep purring with my arm around her so she wouldn't roll off. I don't know what happened after that because I fell asleep, too. My guess is that I am too punchy a sleeper because the tummy sleeping only lasted a couple of weeks before she figured out that once I fell asleep I'd inevitably wreck her kitty dreams by rolling over on her. She adapted by becoming a pillow thief.

Within a few short months she had become a different creature. Or more accurately, we had given her what she needed, when she needed it, for her to be able to return the favour.

*It doesn't mean we'd never tripped on her when she started doing the cat between the legs while you're walking thing, if anything it increased as she got more comfortable. 

*It doesn't mean we'd never accidentally punched or kicked her during sleep. 

*It doesn't mean we'd never interrupted her catly splendour by accidentally discovering her hiding spots while going about our business. 

*It doesn't mean we didn't push her comfort zone by slowly forcing affection on her. 

*It doesn't mean she didn't get in shit for scratching the furniture or going on the counter. 

*It doesn't mean we let her kick the shit out of her brother because she didn't know how to express her fear differently yet.

*It doesn't mean I didn't try the leash and harness thing, much to her, and my, chagrin. 

*It doesn't mean she didn't scratch me the fuck up when I tried to introduce her to the yard. (For the record, she loves going outside with a human adult attendant now, too.)

*It doesn't mean I don't sometimes smother her with affection (literally) even when she doesn't ask for it, she's learned how to say no in healthy ways when that's what she needs, and I respect her "no"s,  so she gives me grace when I walk up and rub her belly sometimes without any "foreplay" ear and face rubbing... 

*And it certainly doesn't mean we started calling her names and generally treating her poorly when she reminded us of our commitment to care for her in the best ways we could, by letting us know the food bowl was empty or complaining when her brother took a huge dump and she had to hold her pee because the smell was puke making...

It simply means we paid attention to what she needed and wanted in order to get what we wanted from her. And just like the booty prize in human relations, it didn't mean we stopped caring for her once she felt comfortable. If anything it only inspired us more, and to continue to see where we could make improvements and adjustments in our efforts. 

So what now, after all the "work" I have done to prove I mean it when I say "I love you, pussy!"? My little pussy happily flops down at random and bares her belly for pats... The equivalent to a woman who inspired to open her legs for a human companion. She runs to the door, happy to see me when I come home. Even when she is mad or scared because I've been away for an hour or ten. The minute I crawl into bed she drags herself from kitty dreamland long enough to join me, where she falls back to sleep purring. She hears my breathing change when I wake up and scampers over to give me a face full of hair to help me greet the day. She follows me around the house and finds a spot where she can be close and out of the way (with the exception of the bathroom, which is too small for "out of the way".) Even when she doesn't understand, she comforts me, when I'm sick or sad or angry, and never says "Are you on the rag?", even when she thinks I might be acting oversensitive about something, she simply accepts me and all my human flaws. She gives me everything a pussy is supposed to. Because I do everything a human is supposed to do for their furry home companion.

Her brother is an "easy lover" and I'm sure it helped her immensely with her Cat Schooling but it was helpful for us, too, to see how different cats can be, despite being the same species... hmmm, sounds a lot like human relations with women, eh? It is an analogy guys, this wasn't just a nice pet rescue story. And believe it or not, a cat's notoriety for independence is quite similar to my own. What may look like independence, and is because necessity is the mother of invention, is actually selectivity, in choosing who to depend on, and who not to fuck...

Now it's time to take the metaphor and supplant your own stories' characters into it. You're the human and "She" is the pussy, in the case of "Getting Laid vs. Not Getting Laid". And it doesn't matter if you're looking for a friend with benefits or a baby mama. Be a friend, and take care of her... she will take care of you in return, or she's the wrong cat. But if you truly don't give a shit about her well-being or comfort, and if you are lucky enough to trick her into pantslessness anyway, it will be short-lived when she figures out that you're full of shit. And you will be left to wonder always about "That Irreplaceable One who got away", I know I've heard that line more than enough in my lifetime, I'm sure it's true of any man or woman worth their weight in salt.

As a final note to help you in your efforts to "score", it's still true that Friends with Benefits is still "friends come first, benefits come second, if they do". And, you may need to sit down for this moment of truth: if you can't maintain a friendship when the "with benefits" status changes, you're weren't a friend in the first place.