If you ask me, foreplay is for someone who lost his pinkie or his thumb, because if you have five fucking fingers you should be practicing, “fiveplay.” What I’m saying is, don’t hold anything back when it comes to foreplay!
Also, one misconception is that foreplay happens right before sex. HELL NO! Foreplay is not what you do the moment you get in bed—foreplay is the shit you do all day long that gets your woman aroused and into bed. And trust me, foreplay does not have to be dirty or obscene. Don’t get me wrong, sending your lady a text in the middle of the day that says, “I’m gonna wear your pussy out tonight!” will probably work, but so will sending a text that says, “Usually we spoon, but tonight we’re gonna fork!” could work too!
And foreplay doesn’t have to be expensive either. Obviously, you could take your lady to a fancy restaurant and spend a whole lot of money—I’m sure that would get you some dinner ass—but trust me, there’s a better way. I have a move that I call the “Birthday Trick.” Take your lady to one of those chain restaurants, like a Chili’s or a Red Lobster or a Cheesecake Factory, and secretly tell your waiter that it’s your lady’s birthday. See, places like that make a big deal over birthdays. They make their whole damn staff gather ’round and sing a birthday song. You’ll notice I said “birthday song” and not “Happy Birthday” because they don’t sing the traditional “Happy Birthday”—they create their own shit complete with clapping and stomping and whatnot. To be honest, it’s kind of fucking crazy; you wind up sitting there wondering why they don’t just sing the regular song or at least the Stevie Wonder version. I mean, what? They couldn’t get the rights? Is it a pride thing?
Anyway, you’ll be sitting there with your lady, and all of a sudden they’ll come over chanting and stomping, carrying a piece of cake with a sparkler sticking out that looks like one of those cartoon sticks of dynamite in it. It’s a fucking spectacle, like when someone orders Bottle Service in the VIP section at a hot club. As that mob approaches and your lady realizes that they are coming for her, she will begin to try and tell them it’s not her birthday. At which point, put two fingers on her lips and give her a “Shhhh.” That simple, cool act by you will put a sly smile on her face. And as you share that free piece of cake (’cause those places give you gigantic pieces of cake for free on birthdays), the two of you lovers will enjoy a secret glance, knowing that you are getting over on the man.
Later on that night, call her “the birthday girl” and ask to see her “birthday suit.” She’ll giggle and say something like, “You know it’s not my birthday.” To which you reply, “Every day is your birthday.” Right there, it’s a wrap—you might have to splint your Johnson to handle the evening you have ahead of you! And as if getting some great sex out of the deal isn’t enough, that birthday covers you the next time you forget her actual birthday.
The Birthday Trick—dang, that was some insightful shit! Hell, I think I’m giving you bookworms a little too much help! Anyway, happy birthday, muthafuckas!