Dating and Relationship Advice – Creating Attraction When You’re Not Her Type

Question to Phicklephilly: Lately it seems whenever I strike up a meaningful conversation with a girl at the bar it has been ending with her telling me I’m not her type. Is there anything I can do to change her mind?

Answer: You know the situation, you’ve approached the girl, started up a conversation, everything seems to be going in your favor.  Her eyes are locked to yours and she’s eating every word you have to say, you start making your move but then she drops the bombshell, “You’re just not my type.”

While she could have said these words for any number of reasons, the one thing that still holds true, you’re not going home with this girl tonight. You aren’t even going to get a phone number out of it.  But how could this be?  It could be anything, from your looks to personality, too skinny, too fat, too tall, too short, too young or too old. Who knows the reason, but the outcome is the same, we’re angry.  We’re angry because there’s nothing we can do to change the situation.

Or is there?  We know that this girl is perfect for us and aren’t about to give up, but we can’t spend the rest of the night trying to convince her that she should like us.  That’s a violation of Chump Rule #1. So what do we do?

We must create a situation where we are the object of desire. Meaning, she has to be the one trying to win over us, not us trying to win her over. When we become the prize, the odds are in our favor, not the other way around catering to her every whim and need.  Well great, sounds pretty easy except for the fact that every other guy in the club will be catering to her, why would she even bother to continue with us?  She’s going to start chasing after you because we’re not going to let her comment bother us, in fact we’re going to turn it around and use it on her. Before she even gets the chance to use that comment on you, you’re going to challenge her.

By now you should have a good idea of the type of girl you are dealing with, older, younger, wild, or laid back. If she’s laid back tell her that even though you think she’s adorable, you don’t think the two are compatible because she’s not wild enough for you.  The two of you wouldn’t get along because you would be off having all the fun while she’s hugging the wall or standing off in the corner somewhere.  If she’s older than you, then she will most likely already be harboring thoughts that you’re too young for her.  Tell her that the two of you won’t make it because you are looking for a woman who can keep up with your active lifestyle. A girl you can take to the beach, go to the gym, roller blading, stay up all night, take a trip at a moments notice kind of girl. Not someone who is tied down and stuffy, worrying about their bank portfolio.  If she’s too young mention the fact that you’re looking for a girl who can raise your kids and attend the PTA meetings at school, not someone you have to pick up everyday from the bus stop.

When we make these comments we are essentially telling them that they’re not our type.  This sends off a signal in their head that they can’t have us, and it drives them wild. No longer are they the ones being chased. If they want us they’re the ones who will have to do the chasing. This will be unbearable for any woman. Day after day they’re being sought after and then you come up and tell them they’re not your type.  It takes their ego down a peg, they get upset, and they want to get even.

But how do women get even with you? By proving to you that they are desirable, that you do want them. So now the chase is on, only she’s the one doing the chasing.  She’ll be trying to prove to you that she’s the girl you just described, that she can keep up with you if only you gave her the chance to prove herself.  Being the great guy that you are, you just might take her up on that.


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Cherie – Chapter 18 – The Fountain of Youth – Part 2

“I like when she kisses me passionately, and then when the kiss is over, she plants one more tiny kiss on me. It’s like the tiny kiss is her signature to the passionate kiss.”

I lock up and we head out into the night. I ask her about what her parking situation is and she says she took the train. That’s awesome. Parking has been a bit of a nightmare for her as of late. The city has been crowded with visitors for the holidays and traffic has been snarled. She hopped out and Suburban Station and was all good. Tomorrow she has to be on the 10:30am back home. Perfect.

We walk down to my house and go in. It’s a chilly night, but nice and warm in the apartment. We relax on the bed and engage in a little chit-chat. We both know that after two weeks the inevitable is going to happen very soon, and the chatter will stop. I start telling some story between kisses and she says, “Save that for later. Now this.” She places my hand on the backside of her jeans, and smiles.

I like when she kisses me passionately, and then when the kiss is over, she plants one more tiny kiss on me. It’s like the tiny kiss is her signature to the passionate kiss. Like, that lovely experience was created my me, signed, Cherie. It’s elegant and sweet in the same moment.

Our love unfolds on the bed like a beautiful flower. Neighbor Trish was away so Cherie was free to make all the noise she wanted. I wanted to start by pleasing her first, knowing my lady had been in a dire state of wanton for the last week. After some time, she could no longer withstand the waves of pleasure that washed over her from her. She simply said, “Up here. I want you up here.” I entered the gates of heaven and off we went into a roaring fury of pleasure. That all lasted past midnight.

We both collapsed after that.

She says I’m so in tune with her body. She is amazed that I do everything without her having to say anything. I tell her it’s quite simple. I listen to the sounds she makes, and pay attention to how her body moves and responds to my actions. No words or direction is needed.

At 2am she gently brought me back to life. That went on to around 3am.

Then once again she was upon me at 6am as the rain fell outside. So every two to three hours we were at it. Deprivation can sometimes be a wonderful thing. Each session was very powerful. We both got to give and get all of the things we love. I think as we get to know each other mentally as well as physically, our lovemaking has become more intense. It can only get better as we explore each other sexually.

Sex is wonderful with Cherie. She is nothing like silly Annabelle, who’s only tool in life was a hammer. Everything she came in contact with, she treated like a nail. Cherie is a well oiled machine. Powerful, calm and languid. Like a big cat. She truly is the best woman I’ve ever had the pleasure to have in my life romantically.

After round three at 6am, we decided to get up and start our day. We showered, dressed and headed out with our umbrellas to the diner. As we walk side by side (girls on the inside) I turn to her and say, “This reminds me of our very first date! We walked around Rittenhouse sharing a umberella.” She smiles and twirls hers on her shoulder.

Normally after our last two epic encounters, I was physically burned out. But not this time. I think because I was getting these little two and three-hour naps in between the action, I feel great today.

My powers are increasing. I can feel it.

I destroy my breakfast at the diner. I have the appetite of ten men. My heart and soul are satisfied by this lovely young girl sitting across from me eating her omelette, and making eyes at me.

We finish up and I walk her back to Suburban Station. We have ten minutes to spare before her 10:35 train. I wait on the platform with her until the silver passenger train rolls into the station, hissing like some Pre-Cambrian monster come to take my lover from me.

“I love you, Cherie.”

“I love you, too.”

We kiss goodbye, and I say “Auf wiedersehen.” Because the literal German translation is “Until we see again.” I don’t like goodbyes. ‘See you later’ is so much better. She gets on the train and finds a seat. I wait on the platform. The beast once again hisses, and begins to roll forward. She blows me a kiss, and she’s gone.

Until next time…


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