Why Do I Write About SEX?
The better question is, why wouldn’t I write about sex? Can you offer a more fascinating topic? Give me a topic more intriguing. More nuanced. More elusive. More misunderstood. Anything? K, so we’ll keep talking about sex.
Can you feel your heart rate increasing as you read the word once more?
“SEXXX”
(mmmm …)
Someone Once Said
I don’t see what the big deal about sex is. It’s only friction.
Somewhere in this whimsical and slightly humorous response lies a fountain of truth. Most of us, whether consciously or not, believe this is what sex is. Slamming our privates into one another until one (or both if you’re lucky girls) releases some sort of pent up energy. Like a deep tissue massage with a hint of yelling. A bit of tension released from the hips and genitals. Maybe, a peaceful nap at the end.
Yawn.
Today’s current fashion is to suppress both the dark masculine and the dark feminine, so we have a large population of wimpy men and polite women. But beneath the nice veneer of most women lies the wrathful goddess who would chop the head off of every mediocre “new age” man. And beneath the patient smile of most men lies the warrior of love who would ravish his woman into bliss rather than listen to her chat in pointless emotional circles.
— David Deida, The Way of the Superior Man
Dude, she wants the killer in you. Throw her down on the bed, rip off her clothes, and pin her down beneath your body. Then, give all of yourself to her in fearless loving ecstasy.
“Woah … what’d he say?”
I said — have you ever seen the look on a woman's face or felt her energy like a lightning bolt when you shoved her into the bathroom mirror or picked her up onto the banister and took her like there was nothing and no one in the universe you would rather take?
No?
Give it some thought.
It might just be the reason your wife is having sex with you less than once a month. Look, there is no other way. You’re the knight come to slay the dragon. Walk tall and fearlessly up to the gates. Knock once, and wait.
No, bitch! She’s your woman isn’t she!? Press two open palms to those doors of oak and let her know you’re for goddam real. Leave your fear and self judgement at the door. She’s got enough of that shit in her own outdated trauma kit. What you’ll find is a fully open and completely submitted maiden, her mouth and … other parts watering.
Alternatively, you can jump back on pornhub and return to your secret life of dark fantasies about controlling and dominating woman in unloving ways. To be clear, this is not an invitation to pump her ten times hard and come, like a stallion roped to his business. It’s about command. Command is calm. Patient. You’re the general on the hill, not the blinded infantryman in the muddy melee.
She wants to feel your capacity to stand strong in your own desires and ravish her because you love her, unafraid of her dark energy.
— David Deida, The Way of the Superior Man
Girl, he wants you to trust him. He needs you to trust him. Surrender to him. Ask him to lead. TELL him to lead. Now, we are all well aware, he may be completely incapable of this most intimidating of tasks, but it’s better than the alternative — two frightened deer bumping uglies in the dark, leaving nothing but spilled semen and smeared lipstick to clean up.
Yay.
I know ladies, the point of this whole rouse is for you to give up control and leave your bossing around at work or downstairs with the kids. But your boy’s lost himself a bit. It’s not his fault, mostly. Shame based religion and “woke” culturism have left him terrified of being sent to hell or jail for taking what he wants, even though you are right in front of him asking him to. The least you could do is coach him up.
Try this next time.
“Mark (or Eric or Billy or whatever …) I want you to stop being such a nice little boy. You respect me. I know that. I appreciate that. But I’m not made of glass. Please grab my ass with two strong hands, lift me off the floor and fuck me like the lion you are”.
Just …
See how that goes.
K bye!
