Galina, III

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Previously, on Jack’s TMI Blog, we left off with Galina pushing one of my “buttons”, thus very much requiring that furious, drunken sex be performed. The point of no return had been crossed.

After licking on and whispering in my ear, Galina nonchalantly stood back up, stretched her arms into the air with a yawn, and announced that she was ready to pass out. The way that her long, red hair hung concealed what she did while she was leaning down towards me, so her giggly, lightweight roommate was none the wiser. Galina dove into her bed, her roommate said her farewells, and I locked the bedroom door after showing her out.

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Intermission

intermission

It’s my first time doing a 3-parter, so I thought I’d stick a short intermission between Act 2 and Act 3.

And…this is a lie.

The topic of bragging, which I mentioned briefly in my about, came up again, and I thought I would address it. While this is in response to my off-blog critics, it may also shed light on what my M.O. is with a lot of these “Story” posts, so that’s good too.

Anywho, the purpose behind sharing these events is not to speak about all of the women I’ve fucked, but to share experiences I’ve had which I think were crazy and/or humorous enough to be entertaining.

If my purpose was to brag, it would be pretty weird for me to build context with hundreds to thousands of words, and then turn the actual sex into some footnote. Like, I’m not gonna write about every woman I’ve been involved with, either. Not all of the circumstances surrounding hook ups/relationships have been worth repeating. If a drunk chick (as an example, this totally didn’t happen, I swear) doesn’t try to choke me out after I refuse to let her finger my asshole, then it’s not really a story worth telling, is it? A good example of this can be found in my post on “Caprice“:

“I can’t think of much else to say about our ‘relationship’ that was particularly interesting, including its consummation. Aside from her being the first chick I’d fucked that was open about her rape fantasies, I’d say it was all standard enough to not warrant mention.”

The post was about the consequences of the sex (with some foreword about how we got to it), a cautionary tale about discretion and sleeping with a friend’s partner. If all you saw was “Look at me! I had sex!”, then you should step away from your screen…

I’ll address the freshest complaint in specific, though. In “Galina, I“, I mentioned that our IQ’s were in the top 7%, and a few people had a problem with that. Look, I get it. Showing self awareness, or worse, mentioning your IQ is, like, a total faux pas…but I wanted to lay out just how closely Galina and I related to each other. To put it plainly, the statement is true, it’s contextual to the story, and I didn’t feel like self-censoring just to spare the feelz of a few (fellow, but lacking in emotional maturity) apes. As I laid out in my About, if reading this stuff bothers you so much then quit.

That’s all I have. Go take your smoke break and find your way back to your seat when Act 3 begins…

– Jack The Swashbuckler

Galina, II

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Things between Galina and I were going great. I had a female friend that could relate to me, shared many of my interests, was intelligent, and whom I felt no pressure to fuck, even though she was upfront about finding me attractive.

So what happened?

A few months into this friendship, some time after I’d been giving a certain dating website a try and having success, I recommended it to Galina. It wasn’t long before she joined as well, having her inbox flooded with messages, and she’d update me on her experiences when we’d hang out. Since I’d learned a bit on Game by that point, I would give her my perspective on her suitors and their efforts.

There was one guy in particular (we’ll call him “Robert”) that, from his behavior, seemed like he knew a bit of Game. My mentioning this piqued her interest, so over the next few days she spent a bit of time picking my brain on the subject. This information would later be weaponized…

Anywho, Galina started seeing Robert, then eventually entered an exclusive relationship with him. Partly because he was a bit of a fitness freak, and partly because she deceived him in with photos of when she weighed a bit less, Robert had her ass in the gym on a regular basis. This was both good, and bad. Galina’s progress brought about changes which, well, escalated things between us.

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Galina, I

winoAh, Galina. Where do I begin?

“Galina” was a friend I met during my time in art school, and part of my incestuous circle of friends. Unlike the rest of the crew though, it wasn’t a geographical change that brought distance between us. Before a strange mix of personality quirks and events brought us apart, we were actually very close.

I believe the reasons we were so close were that we’d both experienced the horrors of armed conflict in our youths, both had IQ’s in the top seven percent, and both were a bit older (I was in my late 20’s, and she was in her mid 30’sthan the college students we found ourselves surrounded by daily. Also, at least on her end, Galina was unapologetic about the fact that she was sexually attracted to me…

Our interests in psychology, foreign films, and most of all, alcohol, were definitely big factors also. Galina was a self proclaimed wino, and though wine has never been my alcoholic beverage of choice, spending time with her definitely caused me to warm up to it. But I’m probably skipping over a few things…

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Of Pussy And Pals

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In keeping with the theme of my last few posts, I wanted to share a story about a time in which my adventures with “taken” women actually went less than stellar. Navigating the seas of women can be rough, but never as much as when the other man is a friend, and the woman is a dunce.

The girl in question—we’ll call her “Caprice”—is what I’d call a social climber, though in this instance, she was more of a social lateral mover. Caprice met my friend, whom we’ll call “Duane”, after one of her girlfriends was invited to hang out by a co-worker of ours. I wasn’t around when this went down, but by the time I met her, Duane and her were already dating…more or less (more on this later).

It was at another social gathering with the same group of friends that I first met her. For Caprice, I think it was pretty much lust at first sight. I would have needed to be partly blind to miss the fact that she was eye-fucking me the entire night.

(Jeebuz! What is it with me always attracting sluts? Does my resting asshole face also read as an “I love sluts!” face?)

When the night wound down, and I was getting ready to split, Caprice asked to borrow my phone. Apparently, she’d left hers out in her car, and “needed” to call it to check her inbox. Now, maybe I have too much sex on my mind (it’s true), but I totally took this as her making a move on me. If you’re not convinced by the things that sex-crazed Jack tells himself, though, then consider that Duane was nearby, and his cell phone was sitting on the coffee table right in front of him. If you’re still not convinced about my assessment, then…keep reading.

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On Infidelity

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(Or “Welcome To The Desert Of The Real, Lesson 1: No, We’re Not Actually Monogamous.”)

Something that’s always earned me a bit of hate, both online and off, is my apparent indifference towards “cheating”.

Human relationships being one of my central interests, I’ve often taken the liberty to add my thoughts to discussions about infidelity. The result, usually, is that I get dog pilled by a righteously indignant mob, so intent on remaining angry, that anything I say about cheating that isn’t prefaced with an absolute condemnation of the act is taken as me defending it. I’d argue this isn’t my story, however…

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Christina, II

Previously, on Jack’s TMI Blog, we left off with Christina pushing me down onto my bed, throwing herself next to me, kicking her pants off, then asking “So…what do you want to do?”

This may come as a total shock to some of you (Ha), but I responded by pouncing on her. We began furiously making out and ripping each other’s clothes off. It’s as if, even in our drunken state, we were both fully aware that we were being very naughty, and we were trying to squeeze as much out of our time together as possible.

It wasn’t long after we’d begun to really enjoy ourselves that I began hearing banging on my door. We ignored it, of course. Next, came the ringing of our cell phones. We silenced them. Then it was my room’s phone! We decided to ignore it, too, laughing a bit while doing so. We got so wild during our drunken romp, that after a while we fell off of the bed! We laughed for a bit, then I turned to her and said, “You know…I should probably answer that.” She nodded, knowingly, and I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

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