Why do beautiful women put out more?

[mschaeffer33]

.
Is it confidence?

Temptation?

Capitulation?

Are chix really guys with longer hair?

[Baranovich]

Beautiful women put out more???

I must be living in the wrong place, please get me a ticket so that I may travel to this enlightened citadel of perpetually open legs, for they are all closed in this realm.

[creambun]

maybe its the other way around, maybe you find girls who put out more beautiful!

[easyed]

Opportunity

[TommySwiftJr.]

Originally Posted by mschaeffer33

.Are chix really guys with longer hair?

I would have noticed.

[mschaeffer33]

.
I've had way more luck with foxes than ducks, even in massage parlors. The hot ones know what's on the menu and are insulted when it's not offered. Not every time but enough times to be life long regrets.

Sometimes I just keep my hands to myself because 1) I'm so unnerved if lightning strikes, and 2) I think I'm playing the long game when all they want is some pud to roll around with between their legs.

Even when our prayers are being answered, women throw us off.

Example: I got the most beautiful woman in my life to invite to her apartment to watch TV. Her live-in boyfriend also happened to be one of the handsomest guys I'd ever seen. I was 20 lbs overweight at the time. She brought me a beer in a fluted glass and sat down so close to me that I could track the systole, diastole and pace of her blood. The skin of our bare arms touched and stayed in touch. And I still managed to talk myself out of that one. Partly bcz I was trying to dope out whether her boyfriend would kill me and partly bcz I looked like a pig. Maybe she liked pork. I could've had her every two weeks for a year bcz the bf spent every other two weeks away in the Merchant Marines.

Dumb. Dumb. Fucking dumb!!!

from the story:

-Coming back from a tenants’ strike that I lead, all seventy units of the castle-like behemoth without heat and open to the elements, I bump into the tousled white-haired blonde who for months has been the principal threat to my sexual calm. Her translucent skin pulses with radiance.
-I invite her over to my place but she counters with an offer to come to hers.
-In the hallway, the evening haze dances like particles on a string.
-She belongs to someone equally blonde and striking. I see them going up the stairs together or cutting across the sunny courtyard as they come around the corner of the building. They’re always together. The first time I stopped them to say hello I was surprised at how eager they were to make friends. A powdery, blinding light filled the hallway. I shielded my eyes and could only look at her for seconds at a time, as much confirmation as I could bear.
-She brings us fluted glasses of ale and settles beside me on the couch, her arm grazing mine, as we take in the latest on the Iran hostages. Her skin stays in contact with mine, allowing for intricate communications about surface conditions and blood transport speeds. Her bony arm is cool and intimates her rate of breathing, a rapid secretive diastole and systole as the inner silence grows louder. Our bodies are coextensive across raised follicles while individual words - vacuum, drumming, lining, vestiges, dew - substitute for thought.
-From the linen Ikea couch I see across the room past the bedroom door to the pool of blue sheets on the bed, while she heatedly defends the U.S. I don’t give her body a thought: I’m lost in the aura that bathes the objects in the room.
-At 175 pounds I’m the heaviest of my fighting career and hearing porker behind my back at work. What am I doing here? My face is puffy. My belt size has expanded four inches before the naked profile in the hall mirror tells me that something more is going on than just filling out.
-What’s in my head? I want her to call me when she’s going through a rough patch. Am I delusional? I’m already in. She wants what I want. Where’s Terry? He ships out on a tanker for two weeks every month. Maybe they’ve been together since high school. Maybe he doesn’t last long enough.
-Maybe she likes pork.
-Before I go, we trade pats on the back, verbal ones, as she stands in the kitchen behind a round table with oven glass over her shoulder. We could hug, but I keep seeing Terry’s hard body at my door. I tell her that we should stay close, that we should take advantage of the opportunity we have to be there for each other.
-“I know,” she says. “I know.”

[billybunter]

Put what out more milk bottles, panties on the washing line...

[pharoahegypt]

in my experience it's usually the other way round.....

an example; albeit one from several years back now..... used to be in table dance clubs, where the fitter busty blondes who could gain dancers all night long used to be useless dancers and allowed little chance for the punters to cop a feel..... while the less busty ones, who also had less custom as a result, used to not only dance closer and more sexily, but also allow their punters the odd crafty feel here and there..... only in my experience... and one of them at that.... others have been of a similar fate though.

in conclusion....
big tits, blonde hair, great natural looks = don't have to put out or try so hard
regular/lesser body, regular/lesser face = more willing to put out in return for attention.

[mschaeffer33]

I found my massage parlour experience instructive. Almost all the beauties exceeded expectations and Tina, the one hefty looking chick (at first I thought her name was Tuna) had a chip on her shoulder. Plus I never saw a smile on the face or a lilt in the step of the dreary ones who sat forever waiting for trade. One of the hottest girls, a Princess Stephanie lookalike, always answered the door naked and it wasn't bcz she couldn't find thirty seconds to put her clothes on.

An unspeakably beautiful girl* (Philly massage parlors in the 80's, where Kelly O'Dell says she got started, were incredible) always let me slide my finger up her tush while we cuddled and kissed as she ran through the combination of things I could do for her $100 flat rate. She priced anal at $200 for my size penis, but fool that I am, I didn't take advantage of what could have been the memory of a lifetime.

I think the underlying reason is confidence. If a chick is beautiful and so inclined, make sure your cock is on straight.

* Lisa Marie Presley on her best day

[Mal Hombre]

Originally Posted by mschaeffer33

I think the underlying reason is confidence. If a chick is beautiful and so inclined, make sure your cock is on straight.

I think the underlying reason in a Massage Parlour would be a desire to make more money in tips,That would explain the lack of smiles of the "Dreary Ones" and the "Hefty" girl's chip on the shoulder.