What a difference a month makes. Over the period of the last three quarters of a year, bit by bit, so gradually I hadn’t even really noticed, my testosterone level had been inexplicably declining. That’s the thing with incremental changes – you’re not aware of the process taking place when you compare one day to the next, and it’s only when you look back at a much more distant point in time do you realise how different things had become. It took for me to reach almost rock bottom levels of monk-like celibacy and anti-social behaviour, and an “intervention” staged by my housemate, for me to finally realise what had been going on, and go and get myself diagnosed.
Fat lot of use the UK medical profession turned out to be, but with some hard work and a lot of research, I’ve just about got myself on to a stable TRT programme of twice-weekly testosterone cypionate shots, with HCG to stop my balls shrinking, and an aromatase inhibitor to stop myself growing bitch tits (as much as the idea of having breasts to play with all the time is somewhat appealing). As a result, I’m pretty much back to my best in terms of mood and libido. All of a sudden, I’m brining girls back into my life again, and actively pursuing new notches with all the enthusiasm I once had. It’s great to be back.
This weekend saw me do my first street approach on what I considered to be a bona-fide 9 – and I’ve got pretty high standards. I’ve taken numbers from girls in the day before, but more for the practise than anything else. This girl was 0.1% top bracket hot, and I actually gave a shit about the outcome, and was uncharacteristically nervous as a result. Even though it looks like she’s going to flake, due to my connection not being good enough on the day, I’ve set a benchmark of the standard I now expect myself to attain on a regular basis.
Pink trousers French girl also came over to see me for a second “date” (after blue-balling me in such spectacular fashion last time, despite me throwing every single LMR-destroying trick in the book at her). She’s feminine, submissive, and pleasant company – as I’ve found with most foreign girls I’ve dated since moving to London. She’s basically putty in my hands, but true to form, as we were getting down to it on the bed, every time my hand began to snake up her dress – *slap* – went the hand of denial.
In the past, I’d have been frustrated, and thrown the kitchen sink at her to try and get the lay, but I’ve come to realise there are just some girls who will simply not put out until the requisite amount of face time has been put in. With these low n-count, sweet, foreign girls, 3 dates always seems to be the magic number. Of course it didn’t stop me trying, but in a good-natured, “I’d utterly destroy you, and you’d love it, but we both know you’re going to make me wait one more date”.
To be honest, I much prefer it this way. If she has enough restraint to hold back with a guy she’s obviously extremely attracted to, then it shows she respects herself and has boundaries, and won’t just open the legs to any passing sausage.
The only problem I’ve found is that it can create a false impression of a connection. I find myself far more interested than I would otherwise have been, just because getting the notch becomes a challenge in and of itself. The last two girls this happened with, once we actually got down to the sex, the instant the semen left my body and entered hers, the spark faded. Mission accomplished, chase completed. All the little things you found so endearing about her not 60 minutes prior just start pissing you off, and you suddenly develop a strong urge for her to be elsewhere.
I don’t know if it will happen with this girl or not. At the moment, she seems cool, and it’d be good to keep her around, but I think she’ll start pressing for a monogamous relationship before long, which I’m really not into. I’ve been perfectly up front with her however, and she’s not so naive that she can’t guess at my nature. “Arrogant”, “masculine”, and “cold-hearted” have been the predominant terms bandied around. She knows me well already it would seem!
I’m on the mend, and everything is falling into place for me to make my final assault on my ultimate goal of having a harem of girls who are all at least a 9, with the ability to bring new ones into my life. I want this to be a reality by the end of the year. Despite being largely celibate for the last 9 months, my rigid adherence to my self-improvement rituals of training, working, and learning ensured that my personal development did not stall, even though it may have been a little slower than it could have been.
Onwards and upwards…