You Will Receive BY FAR The Most Resistance from Women Whose League You Are the Farthest Out Of

A good way to assess your personal sexual value is by the reticence of enthusiasm of those women you are trying to bed - but not in the way that you think. Women who are a close match to you, once you pass their sniff test (and assuming they are not in Emergency Baby Making Power Mode) will move on to the bedding part relatively quickly.

But the women who feel you are 3 or 4 notches out of their league will layer shit test upon shit test, delay upon delay, and laughably overblown resistance to your wiles. They know in their loins that yo won't stay with them and that you certainly won't fall in love with them, and so they soak up as much of your lay-purusing attention while giving you a souped up version of coy that is neither endearing nor arousing. It is worse than banal - it is annoying.

Maybe she is chubby in places she knows you aren't used to, or weird-titted, or scar-y or whatever. . . she assumes you have and could easily do better, so she drops out of the race before she even makes it to the gate. Her "protestations" are delaying tactics more than anything, delaying the fear that she is going to disappoint you. - or worse - gross you out once the clothes start coming off.

So she """teases,""" she demurs, she insists on repetitive, silly, easily passable (or eye rollable) shit tests to try to maintain an upper hand she knows will fold as soon as her smelly vagina emits its first waft under the sheets, fries your boner cold, and sops up your appetite for the next several meals.

And in recent iterations, outright, unearned obnoxiousness has become the ego pre-salve du jour for "turning the tables" on better men whom you could never best. The open hostility/disgust posturing is, one would hope, a nadir below it will be impossible to sink (but I have my doubts).

But even in normal, tolerable iterations of this phenomenon, it is an awkward, exasperating dance, and while waiting it out until she couldn't possibly pretend for the 50th time to be offended that you were almost looking at her tits, may seem like the best approach, in truth you are just wasting your money on more drinks and french fries. She's never gonna budge.

But she has your attention - and self-talk validation that you want to fuck her - while you are attempting to extract an "easy" lay from someone who will appreciate you. Not so. Unless she is so aged that she had heretofore given up and doesn't care if she grosses you out as long as she can etch one last notch on her ever-groaning-under-the-stretch-marks belt, she will make your life way more difficult than it ought to be.

You can compare this to the guy who doesn't really know what he is doing in bed and therefore mucks things up with his OWN last minute resistance and finds a way to suck all the tension out of the seduction and just go home to masturbate. He KNOWS he will not please her in bed, so even if she is game, his ego would rather defeat itself than let a hottie do it for him.

And fair enough. We all must protect our egos from hurts, especially when the road to fixing them is long (young playas) or insurmountable (aging fatties who will choose "body positivity " over Pilates). And so the lesson here is not that people are insecure about their liabilities, nor is it it to pick on or insult them (though, yes it is that a little bit - BUT you are in a safe space here to accelerate your development by absorbing ego body blows where no one else can see you. I hate because I love.)

No, the lesson here is that from the overwrought entitled preening of beneath-your-level females, you can get that rare but more accurate assessment of your own sexual value and perhaps where you have been selling yourself short. Because going for these "easy lays" may take forever or just not materialize at all because the women have been down this road to destiny's heartbreak before, shattered on super studly (and likely blackout drunk) cock one too many times. So they pretend they are too good for you to blatantly overcompensate for knowing they aren't enough. And THAT is your measuring tape of your own worth. Give yourself some credit if a 5-6 gives you shit and won't stop, and that credit is probably at least 2-3 points. She already climaxed when she won the ability to tell herself that someone as hot as you was trying to fuck her - and OMG can you believe he thought he had a chance? But she let you down easy. The labyrinthine ego fluff-slash-rescue from devastation was a Everything from your first approach. Everything else was delaying game and free booze.

Now, with your new found self-respect, go out and play at (or just below) your level as God intended. Don't take a cheat day when you don't need one. Leave the busted pussy for the busted men who need it, and don't make yourself lazy like an Ohio Steel Worker transplant in Kuala Lumpur, soaking up oompah loompah pussy like the King of Spain. Make it a fair fight and win in your own league. You will feel better about yourself, be happier, and have the kind of well oiled sex that motivates you to get to the next round of play.

But the most IMPORTANT thing to do when you are getting outsized (heh) resistance, shit tests, and grief from someone you're barely attracted to is to assume that she really ISN'T so put off by YOU that she has to burn you every chance she gets. No. If it feels off, it's because it is off. It's a blatant power and self-esteem play that will at best preserve her tender feelings and at worst actually CONVINCE you to demean and enslave yourself to her bossy demeanor (see here for a fascinating take on the phenomenon). (This happens way more than people think, especially with reliable middle aged provider males and their ever fattening wives. Those wives make SURE the shit tests never relent in order to keep those hens pecked.)

Don't do this. See it for what it is - a contrivance - and move on. You are too good for her, and she just showed you how much so. Take the lesson and get thee out of the nunnery and onto greener, tighter pastures, my friend. You just got the back door green light!

Note: some old skool Slavic women may put up this pretense a bit more, due to their mothers' warnings that al men want is "zeh sex" and also their hyper cynical commodification of basically everything. It is their version of "The Rules," holding out sex for the promise of provisioning in a perfectly calibrated tit for dat cash, so perhaps allow a little more leeway here before you get up and go.

And there may be other girls who really don't enjoy sex and simply see it as their master bargaining chip to survival level safety and will hold out with everythin g they've got until they get it (Note: this is a dying breed, like one of those species where you can count the last remaining specimens in a nature preserve out in Eastern Kentucky whose funding is about to run out).

And then there are the above mentioned Baby Crazies who, to be fair, are just a more blatant version of the women whose league you are totally out of just based on their looks alone.

But the truth is, if you were hot and attainable, they would be putting out and trying to attain you. The danger then switches away from wasting your time and draining your self-esteem to the risk of actually being "attained" by someone who knows what she's doing.

If there's a middle path, it's a razor's edge my friend, between dumpy butts who make easy lays impossible and women hot enough - and savvy enough - to make you risk surrendering your independence. Whoever holds the patent on the rules of the game of life must be doing awfully well, cause it just never ever gets boring.

Examples from the Field:

I can think of 2 particular instances here. One was a woman I asked out after I gave a presentation for her group. She was attractive in the loose fitting clothes she was wearing and pleasant enough in temperament.

When she showed up to dinner with her midriff exposed and her rolls, rolling all over the place, I had to force a compliment to tell her how good she looked.

During the course of the dinner, at one point she made me an offer (I can't remember what now) that if I did something then she would let me kiss her. It sounded like something she'd read in a grrl mag (and practiced in front of the mirror), and it drained most of whatever was left of my arousal that I was hoping in vain to sustain by holding my gaze above boob level.

A couple of bottles of sake later, my libido was "miraculously" restored, and on a post-dinner walk, I slung my arm around her, accidentally grazing her boob in the process. The indignation response at the innocent (and not at all pleasurable) slip of the knuckle, was enough to suck the vibe out of a dozen funk bands. It was holy hell, bloody murder, and mail order rape kits all at once. Rather than giving in to her stratagem, I just became. . .bored.

Previously, I made the mistake of mentioning I had had sex with runway models and the like, and I realized that just out of habit, I was completely overgaming her.

In the end, we walked back to her car, she shoved me against it and gave me the kind of kiss fat girls give in the movies. I wrapped my hands around her bulging waist and got through it as best I could. She seemed satisfied that she had bested me, and I never heard from her again.

Recently too I was out with a bubbly red-headed Ukrainian girl who was a little below my standard but whose delightful personality, expressive emotionalism and unguarded giggliness promised a wonderful bedding experience that I was excited to experience.

But on our first date, she was aloof beyond all proportions. Shunning, batting away, complaining about "speed" and so forth. It went on and on and on and on, interspersed with her caressing my hand, leaning her head against my shoulder, and full on lying down on me on the chaise lounge and feeling my boner popping into her side.

But beneath the protestations and the drips of anti slut shielding lay the fact that her weight around the midsection, and particularly a clenched toughness around it would be something I would not really look forward to unwrapping. And she knew it.

She intuited well enough that I had been around a bit and likely that I was used to slenderer fare (though of course I did not overgame her by allowing myself to be distracted by the hoards of hotter women in the vicinity, at least while she wasn't in the ladies' room).

She played the same indignation move repeatedly, even looking a bit exhausted with the play acting herself, until eventually I just said, "Stop. That's enough. Come here." Which she did. We managed to kiss later in the night, and my hand easily gripped her doubled over but still quite firm derriere, and as I caressed the front of her thigh, she visibly shuddered with pleasure as a wicked smile and some pleasant moaning crossed her lips.

We were getting there.

But it would have to wait until another evening to progress further. And yet that next evening she retrenched and re-engaged with her "teasing" and tired antics of withdrawal.

It was exasperating and dis-hardening. (Omg that one is for the record books).

In the end, I stopped replying. I probably could have banged her out on the third night, but what would have been the cost to my dignity (and my wallet tbh), and after that much effort I would have likely resented the thigh and midsection padding a bit too much to be swept away by the bubbliness that drew me to her in the first place.

Oh well, you learn. . . but the best bet is to eject once you feel you yourself are being overgamed. Because that insecurity will wear you out before she lets herself be exposed. She has 9/10 of a win with you having asked her out, maybe complimented her, and stayed for the whole dinner. Validation supreme. Why risk a fumble just to get the gold star at the end? Not worth it for her.

So know that. . .get out, reevaluate and then aim higher. You got this. . .