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Romance Isn’t Foreplay

A reader passed along a link to a post from what I believe is a satire website, called ‘The Reductress’. The post title is ‘Nicholas Sparks’ Wife: Romantic Gestures Are Not Orgasms’. It’s funny, if stylistically pedestrian.

“She really was my muse,” Nicholas said of the former lending company account executive, who he proposed to in a thunderstorm but never let try a girl-on-top position.

The humor is accessible because it does say something truthful about the sexes. Women say they love romance, and in certain contexts they do, but grand romantic gestures never did do nothing for their vaginas that a jerkboy attitude and an impudent boner didn’t already do.

Romance is dangerous beta bait. Books and movies have genres dedicated to the proposition that sappy romance wins women’s hearts and gines. I don’t doubt that women sincerely love immersing themselves in romantic escapes, but to extrapolate from that arid swoon a real world wet desire by women for pre-schtup sentimental schlock is an inference error that will cost you more lays than avoiding displays of romance altogether.

Don’t chomp the bait. Romance can’t spark attraction. It can only reinforce love. You will never part a woman’s legs with a love poem. Usually the opposite will happen; your LLoyd Dobler love sonnet performance paying loose tribute to the movie scene that shook your amour to joyful tears in a dark theater will have a decidedly less aphrodisiacal effect on her in the bright amphitheater of humanwave transmission.

Maxim #49: Romance isn’t foreplay. Romance is, at best, seasoning on an established sexual relationship.

Corollary to Maxim #49: A premature romantic gesture will have the opposite of its intended effect on a high SMV woman. Untethered romance is a DLV.

Hey, I’m a romantic just like most men. I’ve given myself over to the mush side on occasion, and it was nearly always a mutually enjoyable experience. The one weird trick I used to ensure mutual enjoyment? I never sapped it up with a girl I hadn’t yet tapped. I learned that lesson early in life. Save your romantic wanderlust for girls accustomed to your lumberthrust. They’ll be much more appreciative than the girls who have a band of betas lavishing them with jizz-stained testimonials of enduring obsession.

Reiterating, this is how women perceive romance:

Post-sex romance = surprise love.
Pre-sex romance = sex-starved ploy.

Naturally, the demanding male logos asks, “Then why, if women don’t tingle for romantic twaddle, do they devour representations of romantic twaddle?”

You’ve got to consider the psychological prestidigitation of the female mind. There are two self-medications being administered here.

One, when a woman melts during a romantic movie, she’s not thinking of Bob the Beta photobooth weirdo wooing her as if she were Amelie in her own little gay Paree. She’s not even thinking of a sexy but strangely asexual alpha man doing that. Instead, she’s metamorphosing the romance porn into relationship victory. A cute girl has little trouble getting sex from a man, but converting that coin of the clam into a long-term investment is exponentially tougher. Male romantic abandon, viewed from this perspective, is cause for a victory dance by a woman who now has evidence she succeeded taming the dude. This female perspective is always tinged with a tacit subconscious understanding that sex was already happening, or destined to happen, somewhere out of immediate sight, and it was therefore the allure of her nonsexual charms that truly won the man over.

Two, women have a queer ability to imagine themselves as the protagonist in rom-coms, even when the protagonist is a man (as they often are). This is a bit of inverse projection by women, as they identify with the lovelorn “beta man” who is desperate to capture the love of the emotionally distant “alpha woman”. The male character’s romantic exertions remind women of the efforts they undergo to win the commitment of the hard-to-get alpha man. In this body swap, women see something of themselves in striver Romeos, especially that something which speaks to a woman’s craving for acknowledgement of her feelings. But of course, what women don’t see is the involuntary sexlessness that typically bedevil beta male characters, because women can’t relate to incel with the ease that they relate to insol.


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