Introduction:

This is really quite a mundane example of TRP. So if you want the juicy, made-for-youtube stuff, this isn't it. But it serves as an everyday example of AWALT, of the anti-aphrodesiac properties of beta, and why it's in your interest to be stingy with your beta if you want to maintain a fun sex life with your GF/wife.

Most of the time, it's in these small, mundane, everyday life sort of things that the truths of TRP will reveal themselves. These are your little clues to calibrate after, while simultaneously not making them into a bigger deal than they are. That way, you'll hopefully never have to deal with the juicier, more dramatic sides of AWALT and its fallouts.

Background:

Pretty much smooth sailing for over a year now. Sex is frequent and of high quality. Good, enjoyable dynamics going on in general. Before that, it got a bit rough after our son was born. So I outsourced sex for a while, which did the trick both as to my mentality and our dynamics (the two are obviously connected). So that's fine, a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

As predictable as fucking clockwork:

So yesterday, my wife and our son was at her parent's while I was at work all day and evening. Apparently, he had acted up a bit - in the way that sort of makes you disappointed in them - and my wife was second-guessing herself as a mother, whether she should have said or done something differently. You know, genuinely feeling down and incompetent.

Enter the good husband to the rescue. I listened, I understood, listened some more, offered up tons of emotional support, complimented her mothering skills (which genuinely are fantastic). And god damn, was she happy afterwards. God damn, did she love me on a deep emotional level at that point. I'm literally the best husband ever, and what o what would she do without me?

So now I've got this chirpy, lubby dubby, sexy thing next to me on the sofa. And naturally, I get a bit horny, you know. Happy women are sexier than sad women. So I do what I normally do, and start escalating, sexualising, getting her in the mood.

But this time, it's like a switch has turned off. With every escalation, I get the nervous laughter, the subconscious bodily clues of rejection, like I was some random creep feeling her up on the bus. I think to myself: "Hey, I remember this from last year!". Oh well, let's see if I can get her in the mood anyways.

And of course, it ends up where it had to end up: We're having sex, but it's the "no" kind of sex. "No, not like that". "No don't go there". God damn, I hate no-sex. I like yes-sex.

So I pull out, and tell her I don't think I can cum tonight. Her: "Ok. Everything alright?" Me: "Yeah yeah, I'm just not quite there" (bonus tip: always lie to your woman about what's really going on in your head). "You should probably get some sleep". So we kiss goodnight, she goes to bed, I go to play a couple of rounds of X-com.

Take-aways:

Beta is a powerful anti-aphrodesiac. Whilst they genuinely love the emotional support, and are more than capable of appreciating you for it on a sort of human level, it's simultaneously the antithesis to arousal. Hence, whilst a bit of beta is a necessary component of a healthy relationship, it really should only be offered up sparingly. Because, if you get these sort of responses on the regular you'll become resentful. But once in a while is easy to handle.

Poor timing for two reasons: Having just gone full beta mode, there was no way I was getting the yes-sex I wanted at that moment. I should've just left it for now. Secondly, although it wasn't anything but a spontaneous bout of horniness, it may have come off as a covert contract (I give you support, you give me sex). Although women may not know what a covert contract is, they most definitely feel what a covert contract is.

What I'll do:

Nothing, really. I'll just do my things, keep busy, be happy but distant, and her hamster will take care of the rest. In two days max she'll be like a porn star again. All I need to do is to let the beta residue sort of fizzle out on its own. Beta residue is like sleep medication for hamsters, still pumping through its veins. Once it's out of the system, the hamster will wake, and go: "Oh no, you might not be enough for him". And then it's sexy time, wa wa wee!