The Non-Consensual Kicker

In one of the more entertaining chapters of my book for men, Don't Stick Your Dick in a Blender, I write about the bad women I've dated hoping to disabuse men learning game of the misguided notion that they should date and try to seduce any woman that they find attractive. I'll share another racy and illustrative episode from my ignoble dating history... I met Anne the same way I met a lot of women, by having a very attractive Facebook profile. A thumbnail profile picture of an attractive blonde woman appeared in my pending friend requests which I happily accepted, flirtatious back-and-forth messaging ensued. I forget if she or I expressed some interest in getting a casual drink together for the ostensible purpose of networking, which is all too often a prelude to the most casual of flings. I was this entrepreneurial dabbler at the time; organizing parties at nightclubs and doing online marketing campaigns for clients; not particularly good at anything, I dipped my toes in almost anything that built my social cache and helped me meet girls. I met her at this mojito bar in downtown Denver where the mixologist produced several very strong mojitos for us. She looked quite hot in a tan dress that hinted at her sexy curves. We proceeded to get a bit tipsy off the mojitos and name-dropped various local celebrities we were acquainted with. She casually revealed to me that she was into the swinger alternative adult lifestyle, not knowing better I was enticed. She told me I was a “vanilla” because I wasn’t really into that sort of lifestyle. A good early sign was that she was eager to impress me with her credentials as some kind of entrepreneurial businesswoman. She operated a small marketing firm apparently, was a professional photographer (and had the sort-of-cool photos on her smartphone to prove it!) Interestingly, she also had a photo with the former Federal Reserve Chairman of the United States, Alan Greenspan who apparently she had worked with and who had written her a personal letter of reference. We proceeded to bar hop and get further inebriated. We dropped the pretense of networking and began face-sucking in between slurping our cocktails. We left the bar in her large SUV. As we drove past an empty parking lot she made the indecent proposal that she would fuck me right there in the parking lot if I had a condom. Preparation met opportunity as I slipped a condom out of my wallet, we hopped in the back seat, she lifted up her dress revealing some shapely fake tits, and rode me, cowgirl, for a few minutes. It didn’t last long as we lacked proper lubrication or room but it was exciting, and I felt like a character in a romantic comedy, being banged by a blonde bimbo in a back seat still wearing my blazer and shoes with my pants down around my ankles! We went back to my crappy apartment nearby which disappointed her but not enough to dissuade her from spending the night in my bed. We stayed in touch and she invited me to join her and a few friends for a night out on the town a few weeks later. We had a few drinks and laughs over some beers at a rooftop bar and proceeded back to her rather swank room in a boutique hotel downtown. There, a friend of hers from the swinger community, a chubby, pear-shaped balding man knocked on the door bearing gifts; he broke out his stash of drugs; a little coke and some ecstasy. Not wanting to look like a square, I dropped some ecstasy with them. Then we proceeded to a party in the sprawling penthouse apartment perched at the summit of Denver’s prestigious One Lincoln Park building. The party was a white party with everyone wearing white, so we stood out not only because of our more casual attire but because almost everyone there was black. It was hosted by one of Denver’s more upscale urban promoters. But we still managed to make friends and have fun. I had found the party the way I’ve found many awesome parties in my life, Facebook Events Near You. I think there was a $20 cover charge but I talked our way in with a little name-dropping. After taking in the expansive views for a while we taxied back to Anne’s hotel room. By then I was getting pretty stupid off the cocktail of booze and MDMA. I think we took a sexy bath together and then I woke up the next morning on a plush bed with a headache. A few weeks later she emailed me about a Fire and Ice party that I was hosting at a nightclub downtown. She made me the very generous offer that if I could get her and a couple that she was friends with on the guestlist she would buy me dinner at a swanky seafood restaurant downtown. I was the one responsible for managing the guestlist so, of course, I put them on it! Me, her, and this rather pretentious couple shared a succulent meal and a bottle of wine. The party was a blast; after a few hours of dancing and enjoying the electrifying performance of my friend Hypnautic we stumbled back to my place and she stripped off her designer dress. I was a bit drunk but I distinctly recall her kicking me twice while we were having sex— non-consensually! In her kinky little sexual counter-culture probably a lot of guys (and gals) are into rough sex, even involving kicking, but I never agreed implicitly or explicitly to that sort of thing. It didn’t hurt much but it showed me all the grandstanding about consent in the swinger culture is really just virtue signaling and taught me to be a bit skeptical of women who dabble outside the fringes of normal sexuality. In retrospect, I questioned if maybe I was being too aggressive in bed and she felt the need to kick me defensively. Even quite drunk, I’ve never been aggressive enough that women felt the need to physically reproach me. She was a very confident, empowered woman, and if I did something that made her uncomfortable I’m pretty sure she would have just walked out of my bedroom or apartment. The next morning, still a little drunk we got brunch together, and she aired no complaints about my behavior the previous night, so I think it’s safe to assume that she just kicked me because it was fun for her. She would lose interest in me. Being a vanilla, I probably wasn’t satisfying her more perverse desires. Which in retrospect is something I’m thankful for. There’s this very dubious legal concept of “retroactive consent.” If a woman has you hit her during sex and then weeks or months (or years) later decides she doesn’t like you so much, she can go to the police and wreck your life, even if she verbally consented at the time. Two other troubling things I’d learn about her… * On our initial date, she told me that she was 28. I think I was 24 at the time and was enticed by this sexy older woman. But later I googled her and found her date of birth on another social media profile which said she was a bit older, in her early-to-mid thirties. Odd to subtract five years from your age on a first date! * Also, in a later email exchange, she admitted that she had two young children. Contradicting what she told me on our first date which was that she was divorced and had no kids. I wasn’t sure if I should be flattered or indignant that she had lied to me at least twice on our first date to make herself a more attractive prospect to a young player like me but taken in whole, she earned her place in the constellation of bad women in my past. If you follow the advice of many pickup artist gurus, you’ll end up dating and seducing women just like this because they advise you to sleep with any woman willing to go to bed with you but clearly, you should be very intolerant of the kinds of red flags that were all too obvious in my episode with the non-consensual kicker. For more racey (and edifying) stories, check out my book for men, Don't Stick Your Dick in a Blender: How to meet a nice girl instead - from a tantric husband with a better sex life than you! Share this with a young player… Support me on Substack? For $7/monthly? This is a public episode. 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