A ubiquitous paradigm of TRP is alpha fucks / beta bux as shorthand for female dual mating strategy: alpha generates the tingles and gets the quality fuck while beta provides the resources in return for little more than low/no-sex companionship. It is one thing to read about these concepts in theory, another thing to consider a wife being entertained by Chad out of sight of her husband; and truly amazing to watch it ALL unfold within a six foot space.

I went skiing after Christmas in Colorado. Skiing is a day game superrich environment. Plenty of lasses on the chair lifts, bars, and hot tubs with and without other men; but all in a very social frame of mind for a man with some game. I N-closed in all three venues with presumably single women. Nothing too special there beyond the Jamaican gal that was down to go “party” in my room right now on New Year’s Eve. I told her my wife was in the room; even though she was not (I wear my ring at all times now). This turned out to just be the warmup for the real fun on the flight back home.

I had secured pretty good Southwest Airlines seating order: B13. I saw her walk up during A-group boarding. She was 30/40s Korean woman (KW) with a smoking hot figure and shoulder length black hair. She was with a fatass dude that I am guessing was 10+ years older, although this is hard to estimate because being fat makes you look old. They were both wearing Clemson University swag. When I got on the plane I discovered my B13 board wasn’t worth a fuck as the plain was nearly full from folks that had remained on the plane Phoenix; and so my search began for either an aisle or window seat next to someone in the middle with narrow shoulders. There is KW in the middle seat with her husband on the aisle. I take the window seat. At the time, I had no intent besides sitting next to a pretty woman with small shoulders.

I open him with a discussion of Clemson’s victory (duh . . .). The three of us than discuss how full the plane was; and how the seats are too small for three grown men. She points out how she hates it when men sit next to her on the plane, and presume to take over the arm rest because she is small. I note that I chose the seat because she was small, and then proceed to spread out my shoulders and arms onto the arm rest. Her husband complained about how they had lost their emergency exit row seating by de-plane’ing in Denver. She tried to calm him down in the tone that a mother talks to a child, and he just kept whining. Through the three hour flight he would complain about a few more things, and each time she would attempt to soothe her man-child. Other than that, he mostly finger fucked his phone.

At first KW and I talked about Phoenix, the book she was reading, our kids, etc. She was playing with her hair, making strong eye contact, and touching my forearm at times to make her point. Occasionally, I would let the conversation die off and stare out the window. I could see from the corner of my eye that she was often staring at me; and given a few minutes of silence would restart the conversation. About 30 minutes into the flight she started ignoring me and talking to her husband, eventually rubbing the back of his head/neck until he fell asleep. She then went to sleep; and I read a book.

She was woken by drink service while her husband continued to sleep. She was pretty much on fire after she woke back up. We started talking about skiing and travel. She was a novice skier and every time she would mention her skiing style she would shift her arms forward and wiggle around in her seat rubbing her side and tit against my arm . . . lol. She told me how her husband bought her a condo in Aspen; and she had a wedding ring that looked like it cost a lot more than my truck (i.e. the BB was strong with this one). Her husband awoke after a while and complained how he missed snack service (she gave him her snacks of course). At this point, and often through the remaining flight she would cross her arms so that her left hand was under her right arm so that she could secretly rub her finger tips across my bicep. Now I am thinking: “how can I subtlety escalate?” I get out my phone, go to the note pad and type in my phone number and a bunch of emoji’s related to our conversation and then put the phone away. She tells me how she lost her phone at the big game in Phoenix; but it was found. Hubby hears this and dutifully looks up the UPS tracking status.

Hubby gets up to go to the bathroom. As I start thinking about my N-close line, she blurts out “do you have a business card”. Me – “no; but I would love to call you sometime enter your phone number” and hand her my phone. She enters her phone number, goes to my note pad and copies my phone number on piece of paper. Her – “I would love to get you out to Aspen, we would have so much fun”. Hubby comes back from bathroom. KW and I talked the remainder of the flight. The sickest exchange was after I told her about the plusses of taking private ski lessons, at $900 per day, she was cajoling hubby into paying for some private lessons while simultaneously stroking my bicep with her finger tips. This was so amazing to watch. There was absolutely no malice or hint of impropriety in her demeanor towards her husband. You will never know gentlemen. The three of us talked on the way off the plane like nobody had a care in the world.

I had a text from her last night letting me know that her phone had arrived.

Summary: if you’re a fatass man-child with an attractive wife; you might as well tape a sign on your back that says “CUCK ME”.