Hair On My C*ck, Panties In The Porsche & A Stripper Named ‘Cassie’


“What the FUCK is this?!” The shape of a demon, albeit one with a feminine form, peered at me from my crotch. The demon, albeit feminine shaped, half-lurched, half-crawled until ‘it’ was straddling me. Through my slightly blurred vision I noticed ‘it’ was holding something up. What the hell is ‘it’ holding?

“What the FUCK is this?” ‘It’ wouldn’t give this up easily. My blurred vision cleared momentarily so I could see what ‘it’ was holding. A hair? A longass hair. ‘It’ became visible to me and it wasn’t a demon. Sigh. ‘It’ was a chick I had been shacking up with for a month. Her lips trembled as she held the long piece of hair high as though she was an Indian on the wild west plains holding high a fresh bloody scalp. My scalp is next. 

“That’s clearly yours.” I went balls to the wall for it. The long single strand of hair was black and from a sexy asian chick I had pulled from the bar earlier that night and fucked in the back of my Jeep. Her perfect tits and slobbery blowjob had me smiling as I drove from Orange County to Hollywood. The chick in my bed was blonde, but fuckit this could be a funny story one day.

“Are you fucking kidding me? This is some black-haired bitch’s hair and I’m BLONDE!” This chick was quickly turning into a demon. “I try to wake you up with a blowjob and you have a longass black hair wrapped around your cock!” Yep, she was a demon.

“Obviously it was the fucking Tooth Fairy’s hair. Bitch must have lost it coming in the wrong house. You should be ashamed of yourself calling the Tooth Fairy a bitch. What the hell did she ever do to you?!” Now my balls were splattered against the wall.

The female turned demon continued to rant, rave and I’m pretty sure foam at the mouth, so I hopped out of bed.

“Fuck this. I’m not your damn boyfriend, I don’t owe you shit and I won’t be talked to like I’m a fucking Nazi!” I have no idea why I said ‘Nazi’, but I went for it. She looked confused for a second, then let off a volley of expletives. Her words hit me like invisible bricks in the back of the head as I walked out of her room.

I pumped up the shitty air matress I used to call a ‘bed’ and sunk into it. Literally sunk. The fucking bed/ocean raft let out a low hissing sound. Fucking cheap ass matress had a leak. That’s it. This bitch has pissed me off. I grabbed the air matress, walked outside and threw it from the second floor landing into the shitty excuse for a pool at her complex. It landed with a soft splash and I instantly let loose a Joker laugh.

I laid down on the carpet, silently cursed her for good measure for about two minutes and went to sleep.

“You awake?”

Fuck. The demon was back. Yes bitch I’m wide awake that’s why my eyes are closed. “Wake up baby”.

“WHAT?” I belted out a hearty middle of the night welcome. “I’m sorry for overreacting. Come back to bed. I don’t want your back to be sore”. Hahahahahahaha. I silently let loose with another Joker laugh in my mind. “Fine. But be nice and stop acting like a lunatic.” She promised she would, but before I got into bed, I went into the kitchen and hid her large American Psycho knives.

What’s The Lesson Here?

Frame. Frame. Frame. While my Tooth Fairy comments to her were not necessary, looking back it was still handled relatively well. Technically, I didn’t owe her an explanation, but by reacting to her with absurd claims and walking out of the room, she was left with a decision. She knew I would walk out of her life in a flash, so she chose to get back in my good graces. Don’t bend, don’t apologize and don’t cower. Just Be.

“I love you baby.” The gorgeous girl gave me a firm kiss and hopped out of my car. She paused for a second looking at the floorboard. She bent down and pulled something from under the passenger seat mat. She pulled it gently at first and then as it was revealed to her gradually, a hard yank. Black panties. Size small. Victoria’s Secret brand. Fuck.

“Are you serious?” Her lips trembled and the tears began to flow. Fuck.

“I honestly have no fucking clue how those got in the car.” I honestly didn’t know. Not totally. Drunken nights tend to cloud your memory. I grabbed a tissue from the console and picked up the panties like I was Dexter on the scene examining his own crime. I walked over to a dumpster and dropped the panties in. She is never going to believe this shit.

“But I don’t get it. Why can’t you just admit you had some slut in your car and she left her panties?” The tears continued to fall. She was less mad and more plain ole sad. I still had no idea whose damn panties they were. “If they were I would fucking tell you, but I literally have no idea. The only thing I can think of, is maybe a chick threw them in my car at a stop light.” Balls to the wall again.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Is that the best you got?” Her shocked expression told me another one of my classic comebacks had hit it’s mark. She’s going to break. She’s going to laugh. 

“Listen doll, I would tell you straight up if I knew, but I really don’t know. You can either drop it, or continue harping, but I’m about to get in my car and drive the fuck away. Your decision.”

Magically the tears started to dry up, she composed herself, gave me a kiss and walked into her work. I drove off still wondering who’s damn panties those were. They weren’t her’s by the way. To this day I’ll never know.

What’s The Lesson Here?

Humor can diffuse a situation to a certain extent, but when combined with being firm, it can be magic. I wasn’t lying, because I didn’t know who’s panties they were and I wasn’t going to lie to make her feel better. Stick with the truth, but feel free to have fun with it. She will either bend or bounce. Be strong player.

My phone lit up. Aha bout time. I laid on my bed at Cosmo Hotel in Vegas watching some mindless crime show about some wife who kills her husband by slowly poisening his meals over the course of a year and a half. How nice. I took a big slurp from the Ketel One bottle. No chaser. Shit tastes like water. Sigh. Life is good. “You going to get that?” Kelly, one of my regulars, a slim petite shy girl, motioned towards my phone.

“When I fucking feel like it”. I was starting to get in a mood. This chick was the most chill and demure girl I had ever hooked up with consistently, but sometimes the shyness was unnerving. Once the clothes come off she would turn into a sexual tiger, but conversation wise, when she was pissed, it was passive aggressive to the max.

My phone was blowing up because a stripper from Rhino was headed over to hang out. I knew the deal. She knew the deal. When she walked through my door I was going to fuck her like it was my last time on earth. She was a sexy as hell chick, tall, legs for days and from the East Coast. Her name was ‘Cassie’. Well her ‘real’ name. You see strippers will pull this shit. They’ll tell you that they’ll tell you their ‘real’ name, but in fact, that name isn’t real either. I just laugh and say “Honey I’m going to forget your name anyway, so just be a doll and pour me a fresh drink”.

Anyways, I had the hots for this stripper and was bringing her over regardless if my regular liked it or not. I texted Cassie back to come on up, readjusted my crotch and smirked at the fireworks that were about to go off in my room. My regular went to the bathroom. I took the opportunity to pour some Gold Bond powder on my balls. Got to keep em fresh.

Knock on the door. My destiny had arrived. I opened the door shirtless. Cassie stepped in smelling with that sweetly perfume only strippers know how to rock and gave me a hug and kiss. My regular peered from out the bathroom. Not a fucking word. There’s that fucking passive aggressive shit again.

“Cassie this is *Kelly, Kelly meet Cassie a dancer from Rhino”. (names have been changed to protect the slutty behavior)

The girls exchanged fake hellos like girls only can. Isn’t it funny how girls will lie through their teeth to each other with fake compliments while shooting looks that could kill?

“Shots! Shots! Shots!” I poured shots, turned up the music and decided to get into Obnoxious Mode. Let me tell you, Obnoxious Mode is a sight to behold. While I’ve somewhat retired that mode, it will occasionally peek out looking to start trouble. We did shots. Cassie smiled at me. Kelly shot me a hateful look. Sigh. Why can’t we all just get along?

I pulled Cassie towards me and kissed her firmly. She giggled and after kissing me back pulled away for a second. “What?” I asked. “Well, I don’t know how your friend here feels about that…” She motioned towards Silent Kelly standing like a damn mute being passive aggressive. “I’m not having a threesome if that’s what you’re trying to make happen”, Kelly softly stated. KELLY SPEAKS!

“Are you down?” I asked Cassie. She shook her head enthusiastically ‘yes’ as only strippers can. Damn, I love strippers. “Kelly, we’re both down, why don’t you want to?” I put her on the spot and took a swig of vodka. One of my ‘talents’ when I’m in Obnoxious Mode. “Because I only want to sleep with you and you always want more and more sluts”, Kelly motioned towards Cassie. Ah shit. Plan your exit now, because shit is about to go down!

Cassie tossed her head in a dissmissive fashion and I scolded Kelly. “Last time I checked I’m in fucking Vegas. If you’re going to rain on my parade then I’m going to go pick up another chick from the club for me and Cassie to have fun with”. I selected a crisp dress shirt from the closet and started to get dressed. Cufflinks. Collar stays. Watch back on. Ah shit, better put it in the safe with Cassie here. 

“Wait”. Kelly’s one single word was music to my ears. It was on. “Okayyy…I’m down”.

“Good girl”. I like to reward them. “Come here sweetheart.” I motioned Kelly to walk over to me and Cassie as well. Then we kissed. All three of us. They took each other’s tops off and I gave them a breast exam right there. No breast cancer on my watch. They pulled me towards the bed and pushed me back onto it. As they crawled onto the bed pulling my pants off, I hid the smirk on my face with a pillow. Cassie put my cock in her mouth while Kelly slurped on my extra saggy balls. Life is good.

I fucked them both for hours. I just couldn’t stop. My sexual chemistry was better with Cassie and I couldn’t get enough of her, but I tried to split my time evenly with Kelly as well. They went down on each other, then all the nasty fun stuff you’ve seen in a threesome porno, so I won’t go into anymore detail, but the point is, it was a great night. We eventually fell asleep on the bed and I woke up with a massive hangover, a $1,138.42 room service bill and two cranky girls beside me, but it was well worth the debauchery.

What’s The Lesson Here?

Be willing to walk away from her. I wanted a threesome. Cassie was down. Kelly was the kink in the plan. She knew that I wasn’t bluffing about going to get another girl, so she changed her mind, because losing me wasn’t something she wanted to experience. This is another example of Frame. Hold Frame and you might be surprised at how good your night turns out.


Learn Deep Conversion Game here.

Read More: 5 Ways To Check Your Frame With Girls

10 Replies to “Hair On My C*ck, Panties In The Porsche & A Stripper Named ‘Cassie’”

  1. I released the joker laugh numerous times reading this. Good lessons on frame. Player proofing the car is a must though, unless you’re intentionally taking them on that roller coaster.


  2. “a longass black hair wrapped around your cock”

    I hate when that happens.

    I bet the Asian chick did it on purpose when you weren’t looking.

    Where do you go out in OC?


  3. Thanks for the stories Christian this writing style is definitely better to learn from since it gives real world examples of game in action (case studies if you will).


  4. I may or may not have unleashed a Joker laugh or two reading this. The throwing of the inflatable bed in the pool was priceless. Awesome shit, man!


  5. Discovered strands of hair, jewelry, and articles of clothing have always been a culprit to me enduring major bitch fits. Sometimes it’s absolutely hilarious; sometimes it gets over the top.
    The reality here is that in each instance you truly didn’t give a fuck. It’s not just to ‘be willing’ to walk away, but rather if a situation goes South or not to your liking, you take the initiative to move on.
    Your narrative will be the cornerstone to this site leaving the rest behind.


  6. Telling a story is a great way of instructing lessons whilst not being overtly prescriptive. I think this fits your writing style perfectly McQueen. I can’t wait to read more content like this. When I go out it’s so much easier to think of these stories than to just think, “FRAME, FRAME, FRAME.” Outfuckingstanding.

    Liked by 1 person

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