"She Made Her Decision Before You Finished Your Sentence"

Three seconds. That's how long it took. Your shoes. Your posture. The way you held your drink. Whether you looked at the floor or looked at her.

She already filed you away. Interesting. Boring. Safe. Bold. Before you even opened your mouth.

Everything you say after that is just her confirming what she already decided.

So stop rehearsing lines. Fix the first three seconds. Stand tall. Look up. Smile like you mean it. Walk like you belong wherever you're standing.

The words come later. The impression comes first.

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Can You Remember When Your Mums Hot Babe Friend Turned You Into An AFC

KoalaKing

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Can you remember those days when you were only 14 and your horny young virgin penis desperately desired to explore the innermost places of your Mummies gorgeous 30 year old long blonde haired bombshell friends vaginal cavity, which was to present her with so much power over you.

She would flirt, smile, tell your Mum how much of a young hunk that you had developed into, she was the prize, she had the vagina, the pretty face, the fully developed breasts, the mature body, and she knew so very well that you would do anything that she demanded of you to do so that you could explore it.

That day when she cuddled up to you, pushed her boobies into your chest and began to hold your hand, your penis grew to its biggest possible size, you became so very frightened, but you desperately wanted so much more of her and she knew that.

From the moment of which your penis nervously entered inside of her vagina, she was to have knowingly obtained complete control and power over you.

You just couldn't get enough of her, as you followed her around like a happy little puppy dog with your tongue excitedly sticking out, you had become her little toy-boy, if she told you to jump you would ask how high, you were now her puppet, as she did as she pleased.

It never bothered you if she went out with or got fu-cked by another older guy, as long as your young penis was pounding itself inside of her once or twice a week, she remained your dominator.

You knew that she just couldn't be replaced, your AFC days had begun, she was the prize not you, and whilst she was fu-cking those older guys in her bedroom, you were doing all of her chores, washing her car, mowing her lawn, cleaning her dishes, scratching her back and fu-cking her yourself after the older guys had gone.

If she had have asked you to steal or to lie or to kill for her you would have done so, as your penis depended upon it.

You had no choice in those days but to be an AFC it was the only way that you could get a regular fu-ck, but you continued to be like this in your older years, as you always believed that your penis depended upon this.

Many years later you realized that you yourself could be the prize, you didn't have to take this sh-it from a hot babe any longer, as your older penis could at last make its way into many more than that beforehand lone vagina, you changed, but you still remember the one who turned you into an AFC, it was your Mums hot babe friend who ruled all over you. :yes:
 

"Nervous Around Beautiful Women? There's a Rule for That"

I could talk to any woman I wasn't attracted to. Charming, funny, relaxed. Then a gorgeous woman looked my way and I'd become a sweating, babbling mess.

The fix took me years to find and ten minutes to learn. Nervousness and excitement are the same physical state — pounding heart, adrenaline, flushed face. Your brain just picks the label. And you can pick a better one.

Rule 16 shows you how. You feel the nerves, relabel them as excitement, and let that energy pour out as enthusiasm. Women notice the guy radiating it. They always do.

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SamePendo

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Damn I envy you Koala, I wish that was how I became an AFC.
 

mpimpin

Master Don Juan
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wow... dang thats the way to become an Afc!! Lucky man
 

grr

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lol no sh!t, really wishing I never moved in with my Dad, now.

But for me my slightly older sisters were largely to blame for my temporary AFC-like attributes. Like most young girls they spent half their time being nice girls and the other half being destructive witches.

I'm sure having matriarchial families on both sides didn't help, either.
 

Rocker

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If that story wasn't so obviously concocted, it would be very disturbing.
 

"She's Out of Your League"

You've said it a hundred times. Maybe a thousand. And every time you say it, you train your brain to freeze the next time she walks into the room.

Leagues are a myth invented by guys who are scared of women.

She's a person. She has bad breath in the morning. She picks songs she can't sing in the shower. She overthinks her own texts.

Walk over. Say something. The league dissolves the second you open your mouth.

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