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The milfhookup is one of those cheesy concepts that a lot of guys basically just abuse. They think that picking up milfs is all about laying down some lines, spitting out the right pick up lines and the right things happen.
I can’t say I’m surprised that a lot of people think this way because, let’s face it, that kind of thinking assumes that pussy is some sort of resource that wguys have to lie, cheat, steal and otherwise bend the truth for to extract.
It’s kind of like looking at every woman as having this apple pie that you want to eat. You don’t give a damn about the woman. You definitely don’t want to have a connection with her. You just want that apple pie.
In this case, you basically want those tits and ass. You want a tight hole to stick your dick in and cum inside of. Pretty straightforward shit. It’s all about extraction. And sadly, that’s why a lot of guys who try to use milf hook up lines fail miserably.
Let me clue you in on a secret. The first thing that I learned about the art of hooking up with milfs is that you have to treat women like human beings. In other words, they’re just like you.
Whenever you try to come up with some sort of artificial boundaries among people, like for example, you’re a man and this person’s a woman, and then there’s differences, it’s very easy to hide behind the differences. It’s very easy to stop listening to people because you think that, at some point, we’re just too different from each other. It’s really not worth the time, effort and bother to get past those differences.
This really is a shame because a lot of the guys who are trying to perfect the milf pickup could learn a thing or two by simply putting themselves in the shoes of the women that they’re trying to fuck. It really is that simple.
The good news, for me at least, was that my friend, Jason, taught me the art of the milf pickup. Why milfs? Why older women? I mean, I was in my mid-20’s and, generally speaking, the standard of beauty is, of course, an 18-24 year old blonde, blue-eyed chick from the Midwest. You know, corn-fed all-American beauty. I mean, why milfs?
Well, my friend, Jason is a visionary. At least a sexual visionary. He knew the economics of pussy. I don’t mean to sound vulgar, but that’s really the distillation of it. That’s the essence of it. It’s economics.
Because if you are like the typical horny dude and you want to bang younger women, you are going to come up against a sausage factory. There’s all these other horny dudes trying to stick their dicks into these younger chicks.
So there is a lot of demand and razor thin supply. What the fuck do you think will happen? That’s right. The price, in terms of emotional drama and bullshit prima donna attitudes and personalities will be sky high.
On the other side of the equation are older women. A lot of guys are idiots because they think that these older women are damaged goods. They think that these older women definitely have their best days behind them. So the demand is fairly low and the supply is abundant. Accordingly, it doesn’t take much effort to score.
Jason knew this. So, again, using that commodified extraction attitude, he zeroed in on that. While I don’t agree with commodifying women, I did find value in the economic analysis. That if I were to learn the art of the female pickup, it’s a good idea to start with the right demographic.
But everything else from there was basically my own because Jason’s typical style was basically all about emotional manipulation. It’s all about sending off the right signals that may look like it leads somewhere else, but it’s actually just all about getting laid. He got that down to a science.
I’m not knocking his game. There’s no shame in that game because that’s how most guys operate, but I was a fucking hippie, man. I was just like this grown up emo kid that’s looking for something real. And the reality, in my mind at least, was all about the art of the milf pickup without having to lie, without having to bend the truth, without having to use pickup lines.
As you can probably already tell, a lot of my friends were saying that I was making things unnecessarily harder on myself. Well, that was my point. If you can’t live your life based on principles, then you’re not really living at all.
Call me a fucking idealist, call me a purist, I don’t really care. I was going to try to make sense of this any way I could. Which brings me to Stephanie.
Stephanie was this art teacher that was one of the most negative people I have ever met in my life. I was in my mid-20’s and Stephanie was in her mid-30’s. She had this blonde, beautiful mane. I mean, we’re talking like a fucking horse’s tail. She had straight, but vibrant, flaxen blonde hair.
She had this deep blue, almost amethyst eyes, and she was wearing these very big glasses. These are thick horn rimmed glasses that I think was kind of a mix of a 1970’s Italian old school movie actress and a 1980’s Madonna.
So she had this distinctive look, and she had a way of making grown men feel like school boys. A lot of guys get threatened by this, but it actually turned me on. I mean, the whole power play thing and the head games made her even more sexy in my eyes.
She was saying, “All men are boys. They’re also pigs.” And a lot of guys would laugh at this because deep down inside, it cuts too close to home.
But I was kind of expecting more. I was saying, “Okay, let’s have at it. What’s the punchline?”
The funny thing about her was that she had a way of reducing everything to black and white. I think it was just basically tongue in cheek stuff and a lot of it is her own personal brand of trolling.
Anyway, she’s definitely an acquired taste. And the more she says stuff that really threw me off track, the more I was weirdly attracted to her.
So one time, at a conference, we were sent by the company we work for, to work as a team. She was handling the paperwork for the event and I was handling the promotions.
I was pretty much resigned to the possibility that this was going to be another boring business outing and here I was with this person who is halfway between a harpy and a know-it-all. And neither of these situations are good.
The great thing about her is that she is definitely awesome in small doses. But if you were to hang out in the same room for more than a couple of hours, it can get really annoying and really old really quickly.
She went on this bender of like hour after hour of just attacking everything about our organization, how it’s all fucked up, people don’t know what the fuck they’re doing, and so on and so forth.
At first, I’ve got to admit, it was annoying as fuck. I was saying to myself, okay is that it? Okay, I’ve heard that before, please move on to something different. Complain about something else, please.
But after the fourth hour rolled around, I kind of realized that I had a choice. I can continue to resist and create negativity, kind of like the magnetic reaction of an induction cookware on an induction cook top.
If you don’t know, an induction cook top doesn’t generate heat on its plates. Instead, it creates a magnetic current in the pan itself so it’s the pan that gets heated. Crazy stuff, right?
The way she was talking, she was creating this negative feelings in the people around her. And that’s what crystallized in my mind. I was telling myself, what if I flip the script?
Instead of allowing me to get all worked up and feel really negative about this person and what I’m doing with my life and this whole experience, I just let it pass. I don’t judge it, I just acknowledge it, and just accept it, and let it pass.
So when the 5th hour rolled around, I saw the look on her face just changed because these fucking big granny glasses became really sunny. She was saying, “You know, you’re different.”
I said, “Thank you.” And I had a fucking nervous and shy smile.
She said, “Normally, I drive people crazy.” And one part of myself is basically leaping up in the air screaming Handel’s “Hallelujah” chorus. “But you listened to me.”
She was basically saying that it was the first time that her negativity and know-it-all persona did not annoy people. And one thing led to another and I thought she was sucking my dick just to fucking say thank you. But it dawned on me that we connected because I refused to judge.
The whole point of connecting with somebody, whether you’re having sex with them, you’re talking to them, or you’re working with them on a project, is that there’s always a choice between letting our differences create this negative magnetism that can burn us up through the fucking unbearable and uncontrollable heat, or it can turn that reaction.
It’s undeniable, there is a reaction into something more positive. And it was this realization that really made me slam my cock into her extra fucking hard. I mean, I was really working that body and she was in her mid-30’s and she was in the throes of back to back to back fucking orgasms.
It’s not like I’m a fucking porn star or anything. It’s not like I’m some sort of sexual athlete endowed with amazing stamina, it was just the raw intensity of getting each other on an emotional level.
She’s still a good friend of mine, although it’s not the sex that I’m looking for from her. Instead, it’s the emotional engagement because her seeming negativity makes me feel alive.
I know it sounds weird, but her focus on defining authenticity in black and white negative terms, helps bring my own personal view of the world into focus, which is, it’s not really all that bad. And instead of our magnetism creating heat and drama, we work with each other and we end up basically bringing out the best in each other. Amazing stuff.
And that’s the art of the milf pickup. Where you can turn seeming opposition or annoyance and irritation into something more beautiful and more productive because you refuse to judge it. You let it pass. You acknowledge it, you let it pass, and you recognize that it’s part of something bigger.
This leads to more exchange. People would love to share more. And you’d be surprised as to the possibilities for connection with people that you would just as easily dismiss.
