Please Stop Frontin'

The art of sexual seduction is a bit overrated. It doesn’t take a PhD in psychology and urban game to seduce a broad. Dicks have been stumbling into pussy since the beginning of time. Nothing spectacular. But most dudes have their strategy twisted the wrong way. They tell all sorts of elaborate lies, invest countless dollars, and waste priceless strands of time on some clueless dame, all in the hopes of someday getting her into bed. Egotistical and selfish guys pretend to be thoughtful and considerate. Poor guys make believe they’re rich. Ignorant dudes take a few jabs at seeming smart and worldly. It’s almost as though guys feel they have to be liked by women in order to get laid. They try to be charming and nice and understanding, fooling themselves into believing that by becoming more likeable they somehow become more attractive. It’s an utter waste. Over half the dicks introduced to a broad’s vagina belonged to the guys she didn’t particularly like.

When you desire to win over a woman’s heart, when you want her to eventually dedicate the rest of her life to loving you, it’s a great policy to make certain that she likes you. Possessing qualities like loyalty, honesty, and selflessness are essential traits when emotional attachment is the goal. Sex abides by different rules than love. Sex is far more basic, far more primitive. The goal isn’t to become likable; instead, the goal is merely to become fuckable.

Any man can seduce any female given the right situation and circumstance. It has nothing at all to do with how likable he is. A dude can be the sexiest, most charming, intelligent and considerate male on the planet and still go home, night after night, with blue balls if the situation and circumstance isn’t quite right. The men who are most successful sexually know how to manipulate a situation and circumstance in order to make themselves more fuckable in a particular female’s eyes. It didn’t matter if she hated their guts, so long as they made certain they are fuckable, intimate success usually follows.

There’s the true story of a guy who spent three nights and countless hours trying to seduce a woman he had been dating for several months. He wanted to consummate their evolving relationship with a few hours of romantic passion. He treated her every day, took her out to fancy restaurants and bought her lavish gifts. Each night when they ended up at her apartment he would make a concentrated effort to seduce her. The first night he cuddled with her and listened intently while she told him horrid tales about a co-worker who made her job a nightmare. The guy listened patiently to her experience and held her in his arms and said all the right things to make her feel better. Still, he went home with a hard-on.

The second night, after a lovely dinner, he wasted several hours kissing her and stealing protested feels of her breast. He could tell she wanted him; he could feel the desire boiling over through her body, but for some reason she just would not give in to him. He was puzzled and confused. On his way home, again unfulfilled, he began mapping out strategies to be more assertive next time. His dick was close to mutiny.

The third night seemed to produce promising results. After he listened to her complain some more about the irritating co-worker, they ended up on her couch kissing and making out. She was hungry for him; he could feel it in the way her body plunged down against him. She obviously wanted him just as much as he wanted her. A box of heavenly delights was opened up to him once he managed to get her sweater and bra off. The taste of her breast was delicious. He desired her more than he had ever desired a woman before. Then, just as he began fumbling around with the front of her jeans, she put a sudden halt to the proceedings. She wanted him to stop, and no matter how many pleas escaped from his lips, she wasn’t prepared to change her mind. He would not be sticking his dick anywhere near her vagina this night.

Frustrated and possibly even a little light-headed from all the blood pulsating inside his penis, the dude probed around for answers.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want me? Is there someone else?” He asked, dumping a tortured expression onto her conscience.

The woman stood her ground. She told him that there was no one else; that nothing was wrong, that she desired him immensely but she just didn’t feel the time was right for them to become sexual. He was everything she wanted in a guy, she explained. He always listened to her, he showed her unwavering support, and he wasn’t afraid to share his feelings with her. But, for some reason, the timing just wasn’t right.

That night, on the way home, the guy pulled into a vacant parking lot and unloaded his frustrations into the mouth of a prostitute. He hated the games women played. He was pissed off, a bit confused. The next day he made up a few transparent excuses as to why he couldn’t see her. He could tell she was pissed, and this fact seemed to please him far more than he was willing to admit. He spent the rest of the evening moping around his apartment and watching his favorite Rocky movies.

Despite a wobbly beginning, they ended up having a wonderful relationship together. They were married two years later and eventually became the proud parents of three magnificent children. It was the perfect union, except for one slight detail he would never discover. The night Mr. Rocky-Lover spent in his apartment succumbing to his tempter tantrums, his girl was having sex with the co-worker she hated. She felt horrible afterwards, but it had all happened so fast, so innocently.

After Mr. Rocky-Lover cancelled their dinner date at her favorite restaurant, she’d decided to go there anyway, without him. She loved the food, and she wasn’t in the mood to be alone. She was on her second glass of wine when the infamous co-worker happened over. He noticed she was alone and stole a seat beside her.

They immediately announced their dislike for the other, causing them both to laugh out loud. A conversation began. They began swapping work related stories detailing why they disliked each other. Laughter sprinkled in with passionate expressions of denial—“I did not say that” “yes you did” “you must have heard me wrong”—as their conversation floated through dinner and into their fourth and fifth glass of wine. The co-worker offered to pay for dinner, but only if she allowed him to drive her home.

“You are as tipsy as I am. Who’s gonna drive you home?” She challenged.

“I drive a Volvo, baby. I can smash into a tree and live.”

“Even away from the office you are an arrogant bastard.” She observed. Every time he opened his mouth, it reminded her of the reason why she couldn’t stand him.

“Only way to keep that money coming in.”

Time passed in hazy spurts. One moment he was driving her home. The next moment they were at a stoplight laughing out loud as a homeless man wrestled with a stray dog over a cardboard Pizza Hut box. Seemingly seconds later, they were standing outside her building and she was explaining to him that she was involved with someone she cared deeply for. She politely told him that he couldn’t sleep with her. She didn’t remember how he ended up in her apartment. Four heartbeats hammered past her. She was now pressing her lips against his bare chest and marveling over how smooth his skin was. She wanted to stop, she even attempted to mumble a feeble protest, but she wasn’t quite sure what was happening. Their naked bodies experimented with several awkward positions on her couch. She felt him deep inside of her, his tongue twirling around her nipples. It was forbidden bliss, delicious in its sadness. She knew, even as her body arched up in climax, that this night would never happen again. It was a mistake, and she erupted into tears the instant pleasure ebbed away.

The coworker never again got a chance to join his naked body with hers again. He reluctantly accepted this reality and allowed her the room to grapple with her demons in her own way. She decided to never share the details of this night with another human being as long as she lived. Mr. Rocky-Lover would never know the truth. She had been on her period during the intimate three nights he had been trying to seduce her. Some part of her mind made her believe that having sex during the bloodiest days of her menstrual cycle was disgusting and nasty. Her great grandmother had once told her, when she was no more than eleven years old, that retarded children came from women having sex during their period. She was intelligent enough now to know how utterly ridiculous her great grandmother’s claims had been. Still, she couldn’t get the image of deformed children out of her head whenever a man tried to become intimate with her during her menstrual cycle. As much as she desired Mr. Rocky-Lover, as much as her body craved for him to be deep inside of her those last three nights, she still couldn’t purge the voice of her great grandmother from her psyche.

Mr. Rocky-Lover had slouched his way back home those three nights not knowing the full story. Her body had been hungry for him. She wanted to make love with him desperately. But she was afraid she would sound stupid to him if she tried to articulate her discomfort. When her period was over, when her whole body ached for a release, Mr. Rocky-Lover canceled their date, leaving her all alone—with her irritating co-worker.

The true moral of this story is somewhat complicated and three-dimensional. It's part of an essay that I wrote several years ago. But for the sake of the all the dudes subscribed to this newsletter, let me break down one aspect of it in laymen’s terms: STOP FRONTING. If you are a self-centered bastard with utterly no regard to anyone else’s feelings, stop pretending to be otherwise. You hurt the game when you participate in anything fake or fraudulent. It’s utterly unnecessary. Regardless of what your ultimate goal is when approaching a female, no one wins when you practice the art of deception. Eventually your lies will be revealed, leaving you swamped in a sea of Jerry Springer type drama. Be real about yourself—doesn’t matter who your true self is. Don’t let these grocery store women magazines fool you. Arrogant and conceited and low down and no good and trifling brothaz get pussy too. That Mr. Nice Guy you always hear broads talking about is not as glamorous as you might readily think. Good Black Men are virtually ALWAYS last in line to tap ass. Females start looking for “good” black men only AFTER that ass has been worn out by the “bad” ones. Don’t get it twisted. By the time the “good” black man gets her, she is usually used and abused, a by-product of a variety of trifling black men’s disrespect. (Many sisters are going to be pissed off at this statement and have their boxing gloves out at me, but the NightShade side of me don’t give a fuck about stepping on a few sensitive toes so long as I know I am speaking the truth.)

And the truth is, lying serves no real purpose. Be real with yourself; be real with her as well. Have you ever stopped to wonder what happens to all these dudes women claim to hate? I’ll tell you, these guys are fucking—most times with no strings attached—while you over here pretending. Step your game up. Conceited men fuck too. Arrogant guys fuck as well. Even self-centered and no good and silly and childish men tap ass all the time. Mostly because they place energy on making themselves fuckable while you over here pretending to be someone else so you can be more likeable. You got your jacket inside out player. When you hear women complaining about tired ass, lazy men, these women are talking about men they used to fuck with. This isn’t an imaginary list of qualities she just happened to pull out of the air. It’s usually from her personal experience. Point is—you don’t have to lie and play all these pretend games to get pussy. It’s a waste of time and causes way too many problems in the long run.

Allow me to end this rant with a secret no woman is willing to admit. I don’t care how cool she may seem to you or how “down” she may be, this is a secret that she will not willingly confess up to—usually not even to herself. If you introduce a woman to two very attractive men at virtually the same time, one of them she really likes, the other one she doesn’t particularly care for, the dude she doesn’t really like has a better chance of fucking her in a day or two than the dude she can see herself being romantically involved with. Let me be clear: The dude she romantically likes is less likely to fuck her immediately than the dude she doesnt like. Typically, the more a woman likes who you are as a person, the qualities that you possess, the more she sees you as a potential life partner. This will make all her personal insecurities, past experiences, internal demons, distrust, and caution flare up because she understands how emotional she can get and she doesn’t want to get hurt. This also makes her naturally slow things down a bit so she can attempt to regain control over her attraction and emotional vulnerability to you. The guy she dislikes doesn’t have to worry about these emotional safeguards because she already knows (or at least assumes) that he is not someone that she would ever really take seriously romantically. An honest playboy will fuck your girl quicker than your honest choirboy any day. Only difference is, she will eventually want to settle down and marry the choirboy, whereas the playboy doesn’t stand a chance if he doesn’t change his ways.

This is why pretending to be something you are not doesn’t really make sense. I’ve had homeboys who would read the bible before a date just so they could memorize a few lines of scripture to a female before a hot date. That’s some low down shit. If your goal is to be with the female on a serious level, the problem is this: eventually she will discover the real you. You can only pretend so long before your true colors shine through. And if your goal is to hit it right quick, you set yourself up in twisted catch-22. Either you end up hurting a woman who does not deserve it, thereby opening a can of drama that’s totally unnecessary (a woman scorned is hell, believe that) or you end up pretending to be a “good” guy so well, that she develops feelings for you and puts you on the backburner for sex to insure that's not all you are after—-so you end up not fucking by default. You can’t win with lies and deception. No one can.

Many of you guys will have natural reservations about being real with the females you approach. But these reservations stem from the bullshit you allow women to fool you with. Don’t believe the hype when it comes to women and sex. Women appreciate and enjoy and PARTICIPATE in sex just as often as men. You have no business in the game period if you believe, for one second, all the lies that FEMALES toss out regarding sex and intimacy. Damn near every female you meet is going to swear that they haven’t had sex with anyone in three to six months, sometimes even longer. Nine times out of ten, that’s utter bullshit. If you let women tell it, no one is fucking. Truth is, women lie and pretend as often as men do. Just like men pretend to be tougher than they really are “I wish a niggah would disrespect me like that,” women play the same make believe shit as well, “It’s been awhile since I’ve been with anyone; like three months now.” Leroy was tapping that ass last night, so don’t be a sucker and fall for that bullshit. Just as society has men playing the overly “tough” role, many woman are tricked by the double standards of society to play the “innocent” role. A woman can’t be honest with you about her sexual escapades without modern day society using demeaning terms like “slut” or “whore.” And other times, a broad has to lie because you niggahs can’t handle the truth. Either way, don’t feed into it. I don’t care how much of a Christian good girl role she plays with you. You are a sucker if you believe that garbage. She’s fucking…probably the preacher.

In the next issue we will deal with the countless lies that women tell. But for now, please understand that men must take the lead and clean up the game. This tendency to try and win Oscars to get pussy is misguided and wrong. Be yourself. Be honest. Be real. You’ll be surprised by how much pussy you will be rewarded with. Everyone respects realness; even if they dislike the person being real.