This is the tenth installment of the book I never published regarding my history with women and the lessons I learned from it. If you haven’t yet, you should read parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight and nine before you read the article below, so you can be up to speed on where the story picks up. Everything below is all 100% true to the best of my memory, journals, and spreadsheet records, though all the names of the people described have been changed.
We last left off in the spring of 2008, having just recently discovered pick-up artist (PUA) material. I was now determined to integrate what I learned to improve my results…
Now implementing my new PUA techniques, some of which worked very well (and some of which blew up in my face), and now starting to more reliably get to sex quickly with cute girls, I started getting more confident about the type of women I could open online. The fact I finally moved out of my tiny, “guy going through a divorce” apartment with no bed and into a real house with some real (albeit still shitty) furniture also helped my mental frame.
One day, pretty much out of the blue, I remembered how, while I was married, I fantasized whenever I saw older, hot, curvy, legal teenage girls. Any girls under about age 18 or 19 I was never attracted to, since “my type” is curvy women with big hips, big butts, and big boobs. So the young teenage girls who looked like little girls (the Ariana Grande types) always turned me off, even when I was a teenager. But college-age girls, like those 18 to about 24 who actually had fully developed boobs/butts/hips…
Hm. I started to wonder.
I thought “I’m 36 years old… what would happen if I started messing with much younger women on the dating sites? Not like 25 year-olds, but like 18, 19, and 20 year-olds.”
It was a pure hypothetical curiosity. If figured that if the younger women were disgusted and rejected me, I’d still be fine since I would just stick with the women age 25-45 who were (more or less) working for me already. But what if even some of the much younger women responded to me favorably? Hm.
Eh, what the hell, I didn’t have anything to lose.
So, using the online dating techniques that I knew were more or less already working for me, I started opening the younger women, women age 18 to about 23. (And I kept on opening women in the usual age ranges too; I didn’t want to put all of my eggs in the younger women basket.)
As I expected, the vast, vast majority most of the younger women either ignored my online openers or responded with revulsion. These responses ranged from pure disgust (“OMG you’re my dad’s age you fucking pedo!”) to confusion (“Um, I’m 19. Why are you messaging me?”)
My usual positive response rates, which were pretty good with women in my own age range, dropped like a stone with women under the age of 23, somewhere around 1-3% or worse.
However! 1-3% meant there were indeed a tiny few younger women I messaged who responded favorably. I was shocked. I had no idea this would happen. I remember how strange it felt at the time to have some hot 18 year-old actually respond favorably to my messages and wanting to carry on a real conversation with me. These were Type 2 VYW, those few younger women naturally attracted to much older men and who don’t really like guys their own age, but I didn’t know that yet at the time.
The bigger the age difference, the lower your response rates will be, particularly when the age difference goes over ten years, and there’s nothing you can do about this. BUT! As long as the response rate isn’t zero, you can still get results. I did. And still do.
Shortly, I actually got one of those girls to agree to a first date. She was 20 years old and we met at a Starbucks. Again, I was shocked that a 20 year-old girl would actually want to drive out to a date to meet me, a 36 year-old dad with a son who was just a few years younger than her.
I’ve already talked about what happened on that date here and in my younger woman book, but the summary was that despite the fact she was dingy as hell, even borderline irritating, I felt an unusual wave of horniness right after I got home after the date, unlike anything I had experienced before. Sadly, I never saw her again because I didn’t handle the follow-up correctly.
This experience clearly showed me two things: A) at least some hot, younger women will agree to go out on a date with me, and B) these women clearly made me horny even if they bored me to death on the date.
So I kept at it, messaging more younger women, getting horrible response rates and a few angry responses. Eventually, I got another first date with one. She was even better-looking than the first one; a very tall, blonde 19 year-old who looked like a model. Not really my type (I dislike tall women and her boobs weren’t very big), but still very attractive, so I went for it.
First date went great, follow-up went great, but we never met up again. Dammit! Either she went back to another guy she was fucking (most likely) or her schedule just became too chaotic. She also lived almost an hour away from me so logistics were not favorable.
Regardless, I got a little closer with her than the first one, so I was making progress. I kept trying. Even when I got first dates scheduled, often these younger women would cancel or flake. Such is the nature of younger women.
The flake rate and reschedule rate for women under the age of 23 is far, FAR higher than women over 23. Expect this, adjust accordingly, and put in much more numbers when dealing with women this age.
Eventually, the third time was the charm. I scheduled a first date with a very cute, trim, 18 year-old redhead with big boobs whom I’ll call Selina. Though I did not know it at the time, Selina would be a huge goldmine of sex and relationships and relationships for me, not just from her, but from many other women, and for many years to come. She represented a turning point in my woman life from “somewhat working” to “insane crazy” that would set the stage for the next two or three years.
We were going to meet at a local cheap restaurant since she was too young to meet me at a bar. (I had not yet developed a system on exactly where to have first dates with women who were under drinking age; I would develop that later.) On my way out to the restaurant, she sent me a text saying she would be a little late. I arrived alone at the restaurant and waited. Ten minutes later she texted again, and was saying she was having car trouble. A similar text came in ten more minutes after that.
Ah, younger women. It’s the nature of the beast. I shrugged, assumed she wasn’t going to make it, and ordered a salad since I was getting hungry.
Forty minutes later she was still texting me, saying she was trying to “get out there.” I told her to forget it and went back home. It upset me that she never showed up, but at least she kept communicating, and that was a good sign. Over the next few days she sent me sexy pictures of herself to my phone (I had a Blackberry back then), without any prompting from me (I never ask women to send me photos; that’s stupid; I want sex, not photos).
Finally, we nailed down another time to meet; 10:30pm, right after another first date I had. I was going to pick her up at her apartment and then figure out where to take her. (I was still not 100% organized regarding setting up logistics at this point.) So I had my first date of the evening at a bar downtown (a first date with a 28 year-old blonde corporate woman who worked for a large bank), wrapped it up in about an hour, then drove out to Selina’s apartment, arriving at exactly 10:30pm. Multiple first and second dates in one evening was common for me at this point.
She had friends over at her apartment, and she was unwilling to explain to them that she was meeting up with an older man, so she said she would meet me in the parking lot. I pulled up, and sure enough, there she was, dressed in a long tight shirt and shorts that were so damn short they barely covered her 18 year-old ass.
She jumped in the car with a huge smile and just started talking to me like we were already old friends (stealing one of my own first date techniques!), making jokes about how she was dressed like a hooker and all kinds of other silly crap. She was very happy, very extroverted, and very confident. No wonder she was brave enough to meet up with a stranger and much older man like this.
As she kept talking, it became clear to me that either she had been drinking or was on something. I later found out she had been drinking and doing a little cocaine. Not that it mattered much, since Selina was extremely high-energy and social even when completely sober.
We drove around a little, looking for a restaurant that A) was still open this late, and B) allowed minors. Finally we found one. On the way in, she showed me her hair (which was mostly red but dyed in at least 4 different colors) and her stupid tattoos on her back (which were also in many different colors). I hate tats and still do, but she was so hot it didn’t bother me much.
Once inside, I ordered a milkshake for both of us to share, and she went on to tell me all kinds of wild stories about her life, her kid (who was 3 years old at the time and lived with her mom), her being on American Idol, her education, her incomplete nursing degree, and many other things, almost all of which later turned out to be untrue. But damn, she was fun. I began to feel the same powerful, sexual energy I had felt with that first younger woman permeate my system.
Soon we were walking around outside, and it was past midnight. After walking for a bit I grabbed Selina, pulled her to me, and kissed her (once again, stupidly violating my later “don’t kiss on the first date” rule; thank goodness most VYW have much lower ASD than normal women). Her lips and body responded eagerly, and we stood there making out in the moonlit shadow of an old church.
Driving back to her apartment, my body was on fire and I wanted more, and I could tell she wanted the same. I pulled into an empty parking lot and we made out in my car, her sitting on me in the front seat. She said “We can do whatever you want, but no penetration.”
Shit. So apparently even 18 year-olds can have a little ASD.
Oh well. I made do. I threw her into the back seat of my car, and for about 30 minutes straight, her and I did just about everything you can do sexually with clothing staying on.
I dropped her back at her place at around 2am. She was excited to hang out again. So was I.
My second meet with Selina was just going over to her apartment. To my utter chagrin, there were other people there, teaching me an important lesson to ensure this would never happen again.
Never have any date with a woman that involves other people besides just you and her, until after you’ve had sex with her twice. The odds of you actually getting to sex on a date when her friends are around are near zero.
Selina was an avid musician and pot smoker. Most of the “date” was pretty much her showing me all of her musical paraphernalia and watching her and her friends smoke weed. As usual, I have no problem with people doing all the drugs they want (I’m a libertarian), but I don’t do drugs, ever. So she and her friends smoked and drank, and I just drank water and enjoyed the show, feeling like a beta.
Soon, more of her friends started to arrive, both men and women. I knew then there would be zero chance of sex with her that night, so I gave her a big hug and kiss and left. She looked sad and her eyes followed me as I left. I could tell she didn’t want me to go, but I don’t do friend zone.
I wasn’t sure if I would ever see her again, but I did. Our third “date” was just her and I coming over to my place after going to Taco Bell. She mentioned in a text that she could just “stay over” into the following day. Good. I liked the sound of that. (I did not yet have the rule of not spending the night with a woman the first time you have sex with her.)
As we were making out in my living room, she told me about how smoking weed and meeting her friends was one of her big “tests,” since it was important to her that any guy she dated was “okay” with her smoking weed and “hanging out with other guys.” Fortunately for her and me, as an emerging Alpha Male 2.0 with high degrees of outcome independence, neither of those things bothered me in the least, and this made her very happy.
I had to check some email in my upstairs office, and when I came back down, I couldn’t find her. I went into my bedroom, and there she was, in my bed, cozy in my sheets. I must have had the biggest, dumbest smile on my face, because I was happy as could be. 60 seconds later, I was fulfilling one of my biggest lifetime sexual fantasies; sex with a much younger woman (legal of course, I had checked her ID and made sure before this). I’m not going to give specifics, but it was every bit as wonderful and exciting as I thought it would be.
Hell, it was better.
This moment officially began an entirely new phase of craziness and sexiness in my life that would not let up for at least two more years. More on that in the next installment.