When I was in my mid-20s, I decided to try a scam very similar to the one that many guys have used over the centuries – especially when they are completely new to game. I habitually attracted women quite easily, but for some strange reason, I decided to pretend that I was a recording engineer who worked with big-name bands, when I went to Spring Break one year in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.

I met this smoking-hot Serbian college girl from Canada right out of the gate, and she was 100%-prime, center-cut, Grade-A-quality meat. Her eyes locked with mine right away, when I first walked in the door of the club that was situated right next to my hotel, and she kept staring at me with anticipation, as I headed in her direction.

I finally sat down at the bar, about six seats away from her, never taking my eyes off hers, while about 20 dudes hovered around her, as they desperately tried to separate her from her panties.


If at first you don’t succeed, lie, lie again?

To this day I have no idea why I chose this one and only time to make up a bullshit story about who I was, and what I did for a living, in order to score pussy. Chalk it up to youthful naivete. Chalk it up to seeing a woman who was hotter than Arizona in July, who had 20 guys madly orbiting her, all of whom were desperate to bang her. But I suddenly blurted out, after she moved closer to me and asked me what I did, “I’m a recording engineer in the music industry and I work with big-name bands.”

Mightily impressed, she lasered in on me with even more intensity. She pressed me for more and more details about my alleged craft, and I stacked the lies up higher and higher until they blotted out the sun. We wound up driving on the beach later that night in the moonlight (yep, you could do this back then), and we talked for hours, until we finally landed back at my hotel room directly on the water.

It was truly an incredible night. The moonlight was streaming in the window as the ocean waves lapped the shore – Hollywood-movie kind of stuff. But as I went in for the kill, she suddenly told me to stop because she was a virgin and she was saving herself for marriage and all she wanted was a committed, loving relationship and a traditional family and nothing else mattered to her. Money was irrelevant to her – it was all about love and family.


She’s saving it for marriage…

Not totally buying her story at face value, I tested her love canal for tissue proof, and sure enough, it seemed as if she had an intact hymen. Taking her at her word and not wanting to press the issue (or is that “tissue”?), we wound up doing everything else but fucking. I took her back to her hotel early the next morning, and I felt like a total piece of shit the rest of the day, due to the fact that my conscience had really started bothering me – but this woeful state of mind would only get worse as time progressed.

I saw her again that same evening at the club where I’d originally met her. We clicked again, big-time, right away, and she started to get more and more into me – or should I say, she got more and more into the illusion. She was one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen up to that point in time, and she came from a good family; she was dedicated to working out and to healthy living in general; she had aspirations for everything that mattered to any man who wanted a serious LTR; only true love mattered to her and money meant nothing; she was a true keeper. We spent more and more time together over the next few days, and I could tell that she was starting to fall in love with me.


I love you only for who you are…I really, really do…

During her last night in Ft. Lauderdale, before going back to Canada, we got together one last time at the same club where we had initially met. A buddy of mine had flown in that same day to spend some quality time with me, drinking and chasing girls, before his marriage in nearby Orlando, which was scheduled to happen a couple of days later (I was to be his best man). As my buddy and I stood at the doorway of the club, getting ready to leave, the Serbian girl broke down in tears and blurted out that she was madly in love with me. She begged me to promise her that we would meet again, in the spring, the following year, in the same location, in order to be married.

My buddy looked at me like, “How in the hell can you let something like this get away?” But I was fucked on that score. If I decided to man up and tell her that my supposed vocation was a lie, I’d lose her. And if I continued to maintain that the bullshit story I told her was true, well, eventually she would find out it was all a lie anyway. It was a lose/lose situation. So I just kissed her goodbye and off she went, crying her eyes out.



Opportunity knocks…

A couple of hours later, as I was lying in bed asleep in my hotel room, the phone rang – it was the Serbian girl. She told me she wanted me to take her virginity. (I about had a heart-attack.) My buddy was sleeping in the king bed right next to me; we’d shared the room to cut down on expenses. My mind raced. She was so freaking hot…what should I do. Finally, I told her to come over. She arrived about 10 minutes later, with a look of blissful anticipation on her face.

To get in the proper mood, we showered together. Very soon, we were all soaped up, lost in the moment, and I was ready to rock – and then it hit me again, harder this time. I was truly a piece of shit for doing this to her. I had lied to her and she was saving her virginity for marriage, and she was determined to seal that particular deal with me, and there was no way in hell I was going to marry her. So I backed off, stalling for time, as I tried to think about what I should do next…


Deflower her, or empower her… that is the question

Finally, we wound up in my bed. I could tell that my buddy was still awake, despite the fact that he was laying on his side, facing the other way while pretending to be asleep. This made the whole situation even more bizarrely uncomfortable, as you can imagine.

After ultimately deciding to just stop thinking about it, and take her down, I got between her legs, hard as a post, pressed tight against her opening… and… and… I suddenly stopped. She asked me what was wrong. I sat up on the edge of the bed and told her that I didn’t feel right taking her virginity. If it was going to happen, it had to be because we were actually going to get married. Doing it like this was wrong. So I got up, put on my pants, kissed her goodbye, and ushered her out the door.


The ones that got away – where are they today?

Many years later, I wondered what had ultimately become of her. So I jumped online and quickly found her profile on Facebook. As coincidence would have it, she lived only 20 miles from me. After graduating from college in Canada, she had moved to the U.S. and she was literally living only a hop, skip and a jump away.

Wanting to see what would happen if I reached out to her, I sent her an invitation to connect on LinkedIn. Despite the fact that she only had only three or four connections, she immediately accepted my invitation within about two minutes.

Getting more and more curious about her situation, I did some online research, and found out that she was married. And then I discovered the kicker, while digging deeper for information on the Internet – she was married to a freaking billionaire. This sweet, special snowflake, with the perfect parents, and the perfect upbringing, who told me she was only in it for a long-term relationship based on love, was married to a mega-rich dude. And it wasn’t her first marriage – it was her third.


Did she really like me for me, or was it that bulge (the one in my wallet)…

Naturally, over the years, I had wondered if she would have had the same enthusiasm for me, during our time together, had I told her that I was merely attending classes in Florida, to become a recording engineer, instead of pretending to already be in the business. And immediately, after I found out she was married to a billionaire, and it was her third husband, I realized the answer was a resounding “No.”

I never pretended that I was somebody else after this encounter with the Serbian girl. And I always banged any hot chick who wanted it from me, from that point on (but only if I believed she wasn’t married or living with a guy). And, yes, young squires, I fucked up royally. Your old Uncle Bob can’t get it back. I should have banged her like a drum when I had the chance.


The moral of the story is this: do whatever you have to do, to get whatever you want, especially when it comes to women. Because they are bigger liars than you could ever dream of being. It’s all lessons and nothing more. And it’s a war. You are either in it to win it, or you are in it to do a half-assed job of it.

But if you don’t take the spoils when they are right there in front of you, you’ll regret the hell out of it later. And this inviolable axiom is true whether you lied to get between their legs or not.

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