Tag Archives: romance

Owning, Spanking, and Tickling Women

Jim at http://blog.jim.com recently wrote an ignorant, deceitful, and completely bullshit article about 9/11. The commenters suggested that someone put him up to it. It’s likely a fair assumption he’s lying because he has to – he’s clearly not stupid enough to believe any of it.

But Jim has some things very right, especially on women. He writes constantly about spanking women, even beating women, and the nature of women and “Pauline marriage” – i.e., the Christian ideal of marriage that was commonplace until maybe 75 years ago.

I can’t help but be partial to a man who understands wife spanking as well as he does – and nothing is funnier to me than reading the comments of men shocked – SHOCKED I tell you – that a man would ever spank his wife, or otherwise dominate her in any way.

Cutting?

Cutting

We brand cattle and otherwise mark our property, and if you won’t brand your woman, say, tattoo your name on her ass, she’s like to do something awful like cutting herself. Don’t people realize that regular maintenance spankings take care of this? If they don’t get it in real life, they will read 50 Shades of Grey and Twilight and fantasize about it, or make up pornographic Fraternity Rape fantasies like that woman that Rolling Stone wrote about.

I remember the first time a girl told me she was going to kill herself because I never fucked her. We made out a lot, but never went all the way, for various reasons. So after I stopped paying much attention to her, she called me up one night and told me she had swallowed a bunch of pills because she couldn’t live anymore. I had to call her mom, who of course rushed her to the hospital. Trust me – it was a downer.

Then there was the virgin who after a few months of rogering in the back of her daddy’s SUV, told me what she really wanted was for me to tie her up, blindfolded, and rape her. Look folks – she came from a loving family with a doting step-dad (hmm… well she had never met her biological father. Um, never mind.) She was well-adjusted. My parents loved her and wanted us to get married. She was 16 – and at 16 she was already fantasizing about handcuffs and blindfolds. Sure, I did it, but my heart wasn’t in it – I just didn’t get it.

Another girlfriend – who was literally a sex machine that wanted to do it multiple times a day – she would push and push and push until I grabbed her and held her down and raped her – which usually ended with her smiling and humming to herself as she made us dinner afterwards. I may have had all sorts of second-thoughts and complicated emotional reactions about how I treated her, but she sure as hell didn’t. That relationship ended when I stopped – I just didn’t have the energy into dominating her all the time, and so she basicall wandered off. I was pissed, but instead of dragging her by the hair back to my place, I just sort of started ignoring her and we just sort of drifted apart. The after-break-up sex lasted a few more months but the spell had been broken.

Then there was the waitress who matter of factly told me to put my hands around her throat and stop her from breathing when I was fucking her. Not a lot, just a little. She didn’t want me to kill her or anything. She just needed to be immobilized to the point where she couldn’t even breathe, and that was enough to make her orgasm.

And spanking? Good lord. That even barely counts as kinky. That’s just run of the mill routine. Hair pulling? Holding her wrists down? They show stuff like that on prime-time television, it’s so commonplace.

I – of course – was writing about this stuff since before this blog, and it was a regular feature on this blog since the beginning, and I used to get hassled by the “BDSM community” for pointing out how politically incorrect – not to mention anti-feminist – this stuff really is. It points to an impulse, one that comes from millions of years of evolution, that both hard core feminists – and fake “Christian” Male Church Ladies want to pretend doesn’t exist.

50 Shades, of course, but back ten years ago it was “Secretary” – oh, man, you should have seen the ink spilled about that movie. It was hugely popular among the Fashionable Liberal Women set who watches indie films, but it was just so “problematic” they had to write about it over, and over, and over again.

Go back even more and it’s the Story of O. The literary types were adamant it was written by a man, but of course it was written by a woman – ONLY a woman could have written the story of O.

Hitting your woman with a stick

Jim may sometimes exaggerate to make a point, but the point remains. Women aren’t men. They don’t think like men, they don’t fuck like men, they don’t react the way men do. And most men don’t understand them.

The only time I ever lost a woman was because I *didn’t* rough her up, I *didn’t* take ownership, I *didn’t* claim her as my property. Women don’t want a boyfriend or a fuck buddy, they want an owner. Sure – lots of women would rather be owned by her boss rather than her husband, but Boss and Secretary is basically their second most common sexual fantasy, just after “kidnapped by a rival gang/warrior, and enslaved in the harem of a slightly but not too exotic foreign chief, where she fucks/births her way to the top of the harem.

Jim’s also right about race, which makes his cucking over 9/11 so much more disappointing, but I guess you can’t win them all.

its-funny-how-things-change-with-time-i-used-to-hate-taking-naps-and-getting-spanked-af8f9

Will they follow the path of the genius Hipster Racist? [check him out, the man is a God]

Will they follow the path of the genius Hipster Racist? [check him out, the man is a God]

So says DisenchantedScholar, and who am I to argue? The lady is some sort of super-genius academic.

http://disenchantedscholar.wordpress.com/2015/12/28/tweet-of-the-year-r-types-gonna-r/

It’s mostly brown men who refuse to ‘settle’ for their own, ugly women. It’s brown men who feel entitled, racially obsessed with defiling white ‘whores’

I don’t write much “manosphere” stuff anymore, because they banned me from reddit.com’s TheRedPill (and TheBluePill, and PurplePillDebate, and …)

I was banned for some of my more, er, “controversial” statements … one being, it’s pretty lame to spend all your time on line bitching about women … oh, and not being a self-hating white man.

So take it from DisenchantedScholar, folks!

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Why Women Love Me But Hate You

So Little Miss Fuck and Run – 24 years old, by the way – well she tells me she’s reading 50 Shades of Grey. So, of course, she wants to try it. Ten minutes later, I had her hands tied to her bedposts, she’s blindfolded and I’m smacking her ass really, really hard.

Good lord is was *so fucking hot* for both of us.

A year later, rinse and repeat with a new one – Yoga Ass. She liked me so much she had my baby.

See, you beta boys don’t get it. You think it’s weird and kinky – you think it’s some porn thing, that if you watch a bunch of porn, you’ll start to like flogging women.

But don’t worry, that will never happen. You are either born with it, or you are not. The fact you are “betas” and women despise you – it is precisely because you don’t have a taste for controlling women and being rough with them. Women *love it* – most of them. All of them, I’m convinced. Blindfolds, restraints, spanking, hair pulling – they love it. To them, it’s just a good night. But you betas – you boys that are shy around women or whatever – eh, well, somebody has to do all the work while us “alphas” fuck your women.

Now, I’m older, I’m not the young slutty stud I used to be, but the story of one year of my life is far more interesting than the story of your entire life.

They call it “power exchange” and it is when you have all the power, and the woman has no power. She’s literally hog tied, unable to move. You can do anything you want to her. Women, see, they love the suspense, they tie themselves in knots (!) thinking, anticipating what awful, horrible things her Alpha Sadist is going to do to her. Will it hurt? Probably. Will it be humiliating? Certainly. And it will make her come harder than she ever has, and when she is in bed with her Beta, it will give her something to fantasize about.

So their little yelps of pain, the involuntary jerks, the way their little butt muscles tense up, the way they twist around on their toes – fuck fuck fuck it makes me fucking hard. Can’t help it. I don’t know why, it just is.

See, guys like us, we’re really just doing a public service. You should like, pay us.

See, it used to be a secret. “Our little secret” we called it. You could tell the gals that were into it, because they would usually signal it someway. Those were the ones that knew what they were. Many gals need to be introduced to it, and sure they are scared at first, but that just adds to the hotness.

Now, the dim-witted Church Ladies will scream about “jew porn” but the reality is, they like it too, they just like to keep up appearances.

So 50 Shades brought it all out of the closet. You’ll notice that virtually every woman read it. Even though it is supposedly terribly written, they still bought it. It’s a massive bestseller.

I have to laugh at the Nazitards at places like Daily Stormer, full of betas whining about how women are sluts – that’s just jealousy. Women are sluts – for guys like me – and they are chaste virgins for guys like you. See how that works? The Nazitards actually wrote an anti-50 Shades article, a bunch of betas posing as “family values” types wanking it to stories of white sluts they wish they could have. Lulz.

I’ve never even had a “third date” – in fact, I’ve barely had a second date. Because I’m the “bad boy.” Frankly, it’s s burden, but someone has to do it. You certainly aren’t giving your woman what she wants.

So, I will.

You’re welcome.

How To Fulfill the 14 Words By Impregnating Women Ten Years Younger Than You

In an ideal world, young white women would marry young white men, have many white children, stay together, and spend their golden years enjoying their children and grandchildren.

That world no longer exists, and mostly it’s because of scientific birth control and feminism. The new reality is, young women postpone marrige and child birth as long as possible, so they can get “alpha fucks” from good looking guys that won’t commit to them. Then, when they start to lose their youth, beauty, and fertility, and can no longer get the attention of these hot guys, they start looking around for “beta bucks” to settle with.

This is great for younger women – who get lots of sex from sexy guys – and it’s great for good looking men.

Who are the losers? Regular looking guys and women as they get older. It would be nice if older – and presumably wiser women – would counsel the younger women to be realistic, and find a guy who maybe isn’t Brad Pitt, but otherwise great, and settle early. But in a feminist culture, it’s “Tingles Uber Alles” – and the older women would never deny their younger selves the opportunity to slut it up with the hot guys – they’d rather just bitch as they get older.

This not-ideal state of affairs nevertheless opens some opportunities for young white men to grab the bull by the horns, so to speak, and think outside the box.

If a young man is good looking, he’ll have no problem getting sex, or whatever else he wants, from women his age. But young men that aren’t particularly good looking – and compared to most women, most men aren’t particularly good looking – can still have children, sex, a wife/partner by just waiting a few years and then getting a woman a decade younger.

I did it. I found a very hot 21 year old that I based the character “Dancer” on, had awesome hot sex with her for a few months, and now she has my son, a cute little two year old tyke we’ll call Hipster Jr.

Now, it is not an ideal arrangement. I’m not with her anymore, she went back to her boyfriend, and she is likely passing the kid off as his. But nevertheless, I did successfully pass on my genetics and created a white child. I now have as many children as a certain former prominent blogger we all know and love.

Unfortunately, completely against my will, my college girlfriend murdered my first child because she wasn’t “ready” to be a mother. The most common murder is that of a mother murdering her own child, thanks to feminism, a offshoot of the bloodthirsty, anti-white Marxist ideology. There was nothing I could do about it, thanks to feminism and the anti-white male government we live under.

So anyway, when my girlfriend decided she was bored and walked out on me after seven years, I was pretty bummed about it. I sort of moped for almost a year, then decided to get back in the game. And boy, had it gotten easier.

I didn’t waste a single minute with any woman over 30, and in fact, spent all of my time trying to pick up women as close to 21 as possible. Over the course of two years, I had two 21 year olds, one 22 year old, and then had the 22 year old again when she turned 24. It was easy. Listen, young white men, here’s how you do it.

First, never fall in love with a woman, at least, not right away. It’s a bitch move. Never call yourself her “boyfriend” or in any way commit to anything. Women with options – the only kind that matter – are turned off if they know you are interested in them for anything more than sex. The game is, she has to use her sexuality to capture you, to take you off the market. And she doesn’t want it to be easy, she wants to work for it.

So, the main thing is, don’t take them seriously. This is not particularly hard as most young women (the only ones that matter) are pretty silly. If you strike out – move on. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Young women LOVE the idea of snagging an older, more experienced man. What you do is, you flatter her intelligence. Tell her how mature she is, how you can talk to her unlike most women. Find some interest she has an compliment her on it (but never pretend to like something she does, they see right through that and it’s really beta.)

How to deal with the age issue – it’s just a shit test. The best answer, when she asks you how old you are, just say “old enough to be your father now what are you doing out so late, young lady?” and smile. Don’t use that line verbatim, just use a variation on it.

Now, make sure you have a lot of female friends your age. This is actually pretty easy, because of feminism, there are more and more spinsters, divorcees, and cougars than ever just dying for attention. Socialize with them, but only bring your young lady friend around sparingly. You want your young lady friend to feel she has to compete with older women for your attention. Don’t push for sex – wait for her to push for sex. Trust me, she will, because she thinks that’s the only thing she has to offer you (and it is, really.) It might even be good to turn her down. Act all conflicted, but then give in one night.

Fuck the hell out of her – gals like it rough and raunchy. Push her limits, just assume she wants whatever it is that you want. Always lead, and she will follow. We think of women’s sexuality as some complicated and mysterious thing, but it’s not.

So, in the throws of passion, just don’t put on a condom. If she’s on the pill – don’t bother. If a woman is on the pill and is attracted to you, it’s because you are Beta to her, and as soon as she gets off the pill, she’ll realize it and go find an Alpha. But if she says something about it, just say you assumed she was on the pill.

Now, you have to figure out how to keep her from murdering the baby, but if you all of a sudden get too beta, too ready to commit, she’ll think you are subpar and will abort. But if you just drop her cold, she might as well. As with most things with women, it’s sort of a push-pull game. Maybe offer to pay, but say you’ll do the right thing and support her while she has it and help her find adoptive parents. You’ll have nine months to play push/pull with her.

Remember, white women are the prize, and really all they have to offer a man is sex and babies. Other than that, women are pretty much redundant. Men can do anything women can do – and better – with that exception: sex and babies.

Now, whatever you do – NEVER offer to marry her. Weddings are for virgins, that’s why they wear the white dress. It’s acceptable to marry her IF – and ONLY IF – she gave her virginity to you. It’s spitting in the face of the few decent women left to go along with the charade of putting a white dress on a slut. No rings for sluts. But we still need sex and babies, so you have to compromise. If she wasn’t a virgin – and chances are, if she is over 16, she isn’t – then she is damaged goods and does not deserve a wedding. Legal marriage just makes you her slave and the Government her Alpha. Women are people, they respond to incentives, and the government wants nothing more than to drag you through court for child support, alimony, or trumped up domestic violence charges – and remember, raising your voice, or making her “feel scared” is enough to have you dragged away in handcuffs. If she sees you dragged away in handcuffs by a big tall cop, she’ll be tingling for the cop, and feel nothing but contempt for you. Very similar to how women fuck their divorce lawyers, since her divorce lawyer had all that power of you, and in fact, beat you in court, he’s the new alpha and she wants him, not you.

Now, you will have to pay child support, but what you want to do is get her to agree to skip the court system. Make sure you support her, give her an allowance, pay for everything for the baby. It’s quite possible to do this – more than one man in my family has done it.

Then, repeat. There are new women turning 21 every day, and if you get good at this, you can have two, three, even four children, by different women even. Mix it up. Impregnate a blonde, a brunette, a redhead. Always trade in for younger women. Once she turns 30, retire her. She can find a beta to take care of her. It’s really quite easy for a 40 year old man to date women in their 20s, happens all the time. Young women LOVE an older man.

If all this sounds rather cynical – blame feminism. Blame women for wanting no fault divorce. Blame women for being sluts on birth control. Blame older women especially for ruining a once great culture because they couldn’t keep it in their panties. Blame the Garbage Generation – the women who came of age between 1970 and 2000. Most of them are trash.

That’s what feminism has brought to us, and this is how you adapt. It’s actually easier than it looks!

Then, if you have a daughter, the day she gets her period, YOU go out and find appropriate husbands for her. Never trust her judgement. And if you have a son, teach him the “red pill” and how to do this.

White people will survive feminism, just like we survived everything else.

As for me, I will continue fucking younger women until I can’t – OR – until the day young women abandon feminism and go back to marrying young. And I will get off on the tears of aging feminists crying about reaping what they themselves sowed.

I Met A Strange Lady, She Made Me Nervous, Took Me In And Gave Me Breakfast

So, when I started making my 9/11 documentary, I got into a lot of trouble. I decided to skip town and head down South. That’s where I met this crazy woman who could talk to animals. I called her “Whisperer.”

Today is our four year anniversary.

This is what she was singing when I met her.

(Just fiction of course.)

Police Spies Get Free Reign To Seduce Targets

Police spies are still being given “free rein” to have sexual liaisons, say the eight women suing Scotland Yard over claims they unwittingly had long-term relationships with undercover officers.

The eight have criticised the government for failing to ban undercover officers from striking up sexual relationships with the targets of their surveillance.

They say they have suffered enormous emotional trauma after discovering that the men they had been in relationships with for years were undercover officers who had been sent to spy on political groups.

The women added that the failure “to introduce measures to prevent further abuse amounts to institutional sexism”.

In their response to the consultation, the women said: “We note that despite the controversy over the issue of undercover relationships in the past couple of years, the codes of practice fail to make any mention of intimate and sexual relationships.

“Having had our privacy intruded upon to a huge and damaging degree we feel that these guidelines fail to address the issues raised by our claims and fail to offer any increased protection to the public.”

They added: “The situation as it stands currently gives free rein to officers and their handlers.”

Jenny Jones, the Green peer, backed the women’s stance and called on the government to “explicitly rule out undercover police from engaging in sexual relationships” to “prevent the police from making the mistakes of the past”.

Prosecutors are considering whether to charge three as-yet-unnamed police officers over sexual relationships they formed while undercover.

http://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2014/mar/28/police-spies-sexual-liaisons-women-suing-met

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Forgetting Holly

Never.

What do you think I am, some sort of monster?

happy-sub

Hey, what’s the point of this? Oh hey
What’s your favorite song? Maybe we could hum along

Hey, maybe just a smile, oh hey, did you know
That I can dance? Could we talk for awhile?

I think you’re smart, you sweet thing
Tell me your name, I’m dying here

Got you where I want you
Got you where I want you

easy-a-1

heart-cuffs

Busting Holly

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Come on, you knew it wasn’t going to end well. They caught the two guys a month or so later, red handed, breaking into an animal research facility. So we wound up not needing Holly at all. Which made me feel like shit. I was getting reassigned so I had to make my exit. I came up with some sort of lame excuse about transferring to another university. I promised Holly we would stay in touch. I’m not sure if she really believed me or not. Then, just before I left, she called me up and told me she had something serious to tell me.

I went over and just held her as she cried and cried. We just laid down on the couch and held each other. I took her to get it done a week later, paid for everything, then helped her move her stuff out of the dorms for Christmas break, took her home. We didn’t talk for maybe two weeks afterwards, she didn’t want to.

It got worse. One of the guys I had met at hockey sent me an email telling me I should probably see this. It was all the pictures. I think her bitch of a roommate, Stephanie, had gotten into her laptop and emailed them around. It looked horrible of course. Like something out of a horror movie. I mean, no one would understand anyway. Holly called me up in panic. I assured her I didn’t do it, I mean I would never. It was vicious gossip among all the students over Christmas break. She was getting harassing email – nasty stuff, from women and men. Just totally unnecessary bullying. People are assholes.

man-drinking

It all just blew up in our faces. She skipped the spring semester then transferred to some other college, she never went back. We did stay in touch but we were never together after that. Sometimes we would promise to get together but neither of us really believed it.

Just like that, it was all over. I asked for leave from work. I drank for nearly a month, basically, alone in my apartment, feeling like the biggest asshole alive.

I’ve been roaming around, always looking down, at all I see
Painted faces fill the places I can’t reach
You know that I could use somebody

Someone like you and all you know and how you speak
Countless lovers undercover on the street

Off in the night, while you live it up I’m off to sleep
Waging wars to shape the poet and the beat

I hope it’s gonna make you notice

You know that I could use somebody
You know that I could use somebody
Someone like you

ribbon-tied

Hurting Holly

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end

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So it escalated. I wanted to push her limits – to find her limits. Find her boundaries, then break them. So, I gagged her and tied her up. It drove her crazy. While I was doing it, I’d just do this trash talk routine. Playful threats, “oh the things I’m going to do to you” – that sort of thing. I mean, writing them down and it sounds terrible. But Holly understood. She liked it.

She was asking for it.

So, I gave it to her.

And how!

We played the game all over campus. She’d text me: “catch holly.” And I’d stalk her. We pretended we didn’t even know each other. I’d just stare at her from across the quad, or “accidentally” brush into her and say, “excuse me, ma’am” or something like that. One time – we were both pretty drunk – I was being really aggressive, fucking her in her dorm room. She broke into tears. So I stopped – I asked her what’s wrong? Is she ok? What happened? She smiled through the tears and said “don’t stop.”

So, I didn’t.

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She was kind of rough herself. I mean I still have scars on my back. She liked the pain. Spanking, hair pulling, choking, slapping, all of it. She really couldn’t get enough. She said it made her feel, ironically, calm. Safe. I dunno, since I put her in these situations where she had no control, she just sort of relaxed and let it happen. And wow, every emotion a woman is able to feel – I made her feel each and every one. From the sweetest pleasure to the most aching pain. From laughter, to tears, from happiness to sadness, from fear to safety, I played her body like a piano.

Then, I dunno, a few months later she says something that floored me. I mean, you really never know how people are. I figured this girl was experienced sexually. I mean, really. She’s a feminist, pro-choice activist and was always trying to “reclaim” words like “slut” and “whore.” I just assumed she had been around the block a few times.

But then she told me that I was her first.

I mean, I didn’t break her hymen or anything. She wasn’t “technically” a virgin. She had lost her virginity in high school to some random guy, then had a high school boyfriend she said she had sex with “a few times.” But I was her first lover – her first man. Probably gave her her first orgasm.

When she said it, I wanted to cry.

You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

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Catch Holly

We spend all weekend playing “Catch Holly” at her parent’s house. The rules were simple: someone says “catch Holly,” she starts running, and I catch her. Wherever I catch her, that’s where we do it. Sometimes she would resist, sort of, just to make me work for it. Good lord it was hot. We did it everywhere all over the house, the living room, downstairs, against the washing machine, on the kitchen floor. Honestly we did it so much when she said “catch Holly” for like the fourth time Saturday night, I had to beg for mercy. We’re sitting on the couch, and I say, “please, Holly, I’m exhausted. I’m raw. Can’t we just have some wine and watch a movie?” I put on this playfully distressed face, and she cracks up, smiles, and just puts her head down on my lap. I start stroking her hair, lean forward, and just breathe her in. I dunno, it smelled like hair. Like Holly.

scared-woman-crying

The sense of smell is strongly connected to very deep, primitive parts of your brain. As I breathed in, I felt a rush of emotion. Vague, sort of hazy memories run through my head. All of a sudden I felt this ache, this need. I dunno. I all of a sudden felt weak. This was a familiar feeling, I had felt it before. But in just a few seconds, it’s gone.

Then I felt guilty as shit.

I wasn’t being particularly honest with her, at all. I mean, she had no idea. In many ways she was just an innocent bystander. She wasn’t even our target, she was just our doorway in to two radical environmentalist types we suspected of vandalizing a few research labs last year. If you’re scratching your head asking why I went in as a pro-life Christian, to target a group of radical leftists – good. We call it oppositional recruitment and it works precisely because it’s so unexpected. I mean these groups were always on the lookout for us posing as eager young volunteers, so coming at them from the other side, they never, ever see it coming.

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Oh yes, I had played it off flawlessly. She thought I was some sexist Christian rube with my head stuffed full of right wing propaganda, and she loved arguing with me. And oh yes, she was particularly delighted at the idea of seducing some pro-lifer and converting him to the cause. Which is what was making me feel like shit, because, smart as Holly is, she lacks the self-awareness we learn as professionals. She wants to “change the world” which means, psychologically, we understand what motivates her.

Now you’re allowed to sleep with them, we’ve won that in court more than once. But falling in love is considered very unprofessional.

So just then Holly starts stroking my thigh really softly, being sexy. We’re like 20 minutes into the movie and she starts it up again. I playfully slap her hands away. “Holly, enough. Watch the movie. Fine.” I laugh. I sort of push her head down towards my knee and start unbuckling my belt. She looks surprised and smiles, and lifts her head off my lap and just watches me with bemusement.

I say, “give me your hands.” She sticks her hands out, wrists together, and I wrap my belt around them, twist it, then buckle it. I mean she could squirm out of it obviously. I tell her, “ok lie down” and she lies down on her back, over my lap, with her hands outstretched and I say, “now keep still I’m watching the movie.” She gets this funny look and relaxes, closes her eyes and sort of drifts off. I just sort of rub her belly under her shirt and make it, maybe, three quarters of the way into the movie. I dunno when the DVD ends and it start playing the menu loop really loud, I wake her up and lead her upstairs to her room and we fall asleep in her bed.

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