This is a bit of a lay/field report and anecdotal story on how I met a girl and married her within 7 weeks of meeting her, then had the most craziest relationship ever. And I post this now as I have just reached the part of The Game where Katja has left Mystery and Mystery teaches his seminar about the three parts of a relationship - beginning, middle and end. I went through all three, and they each had elements of Mystery and Katja's relationship.
On Boxing Night 2005, I was in a hotel lobby trying to get a room but the hotel was full. Then suddenly, a guy and a girl walked into the lobby - the girl was clearly drunk and had mud and blood on her knees - she was dressed in a skimpy PVC sailor outfit
, he was dressed as the Incredible Hulk. It was fancy dress in town.
He went to the toilet to get some water, and I looked at the girl - she was drunk but she gave me a very curious look, and I knew instantly she'd only just met this guy this night and didn't want to be with him and that I had to rescue her. We later realised this was love at first sight.
He returned from the toilet, and I proceeded to make efforts to AMOG the Incredible Hulk. I already knew there were no hotel rooms available in the area, so I pretended to call one on my phone and pretended that a room was available. "You have a room free? Oh, brilliant, we'll be there soon."
I said to the sailor and Incredible Hulk I had my car and we could all stay together banking on the three's-a-crowd syndrome. Of course, I was staying at the pretend hotel no matter what as I had the booking and the car. So, the AMOG knew he had to either had to come and share or bail out, and he didn't seem like the 2-guys-1-girl kinda guy (thank fuck!). So he asked me to drop him off at his friend's house. I took his number as we had a good chat, but really I was defusing the potential cockblock.
Now there were just me and the sailor girl in the car, and we drove to various hotels trying to get a room and we chatted about lots of deep stuff. It was quite amazing actually. 4 or 5 in the morning and we made a real connection, and I could tell she was super-relaxed driving around in the warmth of my car in the middle of the night after a hectic night out at Christmas time in the cold north of England. Eventually, she said to me, "You can stay at mine, but you gotta be really quiet as my mum and dad are at home."
This was IOI central! All I'd done is AMOG the Incredible Hulk, make her comfortable and relaxed, and now I just had to seal the deal at her place. When we got to hers, I went to the bathroom and got some wet toilet paper and sat her down on her bed, and I knelt in front of her and cleaned the mud and blood gently from her knees and shins. This was major kino and demonstrated protector and carer. I looked at her while I was doing this and she had a loving look towards me in her eyes. This was love... and we both felt it.
We got into bed and we lay apart from each other. But we both kept touching legs slightly while facing away from each other. Lots of sexual tension and kino. And just as we'd be rubbing each other's legs against each other, she'd pull away. She was totally push-pulling me, so I had to turn the tables and say, "No, we can't. This is naughty." This happened about six times. And I kept my cool and didn't play into her hands. It worked. All of a sudden, she got up and straddled me and we fucked! Then we fucked again. And then her dad shouted, "Whoever's in there, get him out!"
I put my clothes on and we lay in bed silent. But we couldn't help ourselves. Before long, we fucked a third time! By now, my balls were empty, and I fucked her for about an hour non-stop. After this, her dad had had enough and he walked in. Luckily, I was decent, but she handled the situation remarkably! She told him I was a professional footballer for Doncaster Rovers and had been seeing me for several months. He apologised to me and shook my hand that had just been up his lying daughter's wet pussy all night.
In the morning, I said to my wife-to-be I was going to visit my dad, does she want to come. She immediately agreed. I felt no hesitation in asking, she felt no hesitation in saying yes. It was completely natural, like we'd known each other for months or years. We were to spend the next five days together solidly, not a single minute apart from the moment we met apart from just two hours when I went to visit my mum one time. And when I returned, she ran into my arms like I'd been away for weeks. We went on dates, went dancing, stayed in hotels, visited friends, family. We had a 6-month relationship in 5 days. I talked to her about philosophy, how I don't believe that time exists and we live in an eternal now, how I believe in life after death, my proof on how we have a soul that returns to the ether after we die, the existence of an omnipresent universal Force, and how all things are made of energy. I made up a magic trick on the spot when a wine glass in a restaurant we were at just moved slowly across the table as it glided on some spilled wine very slowly. I got the waiter involved and showed him too. DHV to the max! On the second or third day, she told me she had to say something. I said I already knew and that I felt it too. We told each other we loved each other. The next day, we both talked about how far we'd gone and that we could easily just get engaged. And we said, "Why not?"
New Year's Eve, we got engaged. I used a ring my mum told me my dad gave to her when I was born - very sentimental value. I proposed to her at 23:30 in a nightclub on the dancefloor in front of everyone. We had already planned this anyway, but she looked at me with loving eyes and said, "Of course I will."
I'm not going to make this into a long-winded love story as this is all about routines and technique, so I'll skip the details of the next few weeks. We were now in a fully-fledged serious relationship. But over that time, she slowly wrapped me around her little finger. She completely took advantage of the love I had for her, and used it to gain the upper hand. She would cause an argument over the phone and I would drive 250 miles in the middle of the work week (that's how far we lived from each other!) to sort things out. She had me running after her like a fucking muppet.
But I took it all because we were engaged and it was serious - we had already ordered the rings, at a cost of over £5000 between them! Hand-made platinum diamond rings.
Two weeks before Valentine's Day, I set up the ultimate romantic gesture known to man. She was driving down to my place for the weekend. So, I'd been out and bought thousands of heart sequins, rolls of pink ribbon, and candles, and long stem red roses - those ones with really big heads and LOADS of petals. I covered my entire house with petals, heart sequins and ribbons. You could barely see the floor in the kitchen, hallways, living room, stairwell, landing, bedroom. And candles lined every wall. I had my CD The Power of Love playing with all the classic love songs, and I wore a tight white tank top and left the front door ajar for her arrival. As she walked in, Richard Marx's Right Here Waiting was playing. She'd put on her nurses uniform and fishnet stockings to greet me with. She came into the living room and saw me on the sofa and didn't say a word. She just straddled me and fucked my brains out. It was on fire!... literally. When we finished, we turned around and my jeans were on fire... they'd landed on a candle!!! It didn't kill the moment at all though. It was hilarious. It was romantic, it was sexual. I'd covered every base.
A week later, we were arguing again on the phone and she was upset. So, I knew it was make or break time. I tested her. We were engaged, so if she was serious about our engagement, there was only one answer to the question I was about to ask. "Would you marry me tomorrow?" She replied, "Yes." That answer sealed our fate. We were both spontaneous people, and it was nearly Valentine's Day. And we were sick of her family getting involved with the wedding arrangements (which was meant to be in July), so we decided to run away to Las Vegas and get married on Valentine's Day!
£5000 later for the wedding ceremony, flights, limousines, and four nights in the Bellagio Hotel, and £2500 on a wedding dress from Israel that we were lucky enough that the manikin one fitted her slim body perfectly with a few modifications for her large breast size (yes, she was a HB9)... And we were off to Las Vegas for the wedding of the century!
However, even the night before the wedding, she started getting cold feet, or so I thought. It was all a system of control by her. She wanted affirmation from me, assurances she was doing the right thing, etc. etc. She knew I would do anything to make this go through now as I had paid £13,000 already (although she would return £5500 of that for the dress and my ring of course). But I was committed. So I had to mollycoddle her majorly to ensure she got that flight the next day - she was always going to get it, but I had to show absolute humility and put her on the highest princess pedestal money could buy.
I fucked her in the toilet on the flight to which the captain announced as we left the cubicle, "Everyone, please welcome the two new VIP members to the Mile High Club." That was hilarious! Then, on landing and seeing the Strip of Las Vegas through the aeroplane window, she started having cold feet again!! This was ridiculous, but she knew she had me hook line and sinker, right over a fucking barrel.
The next couple of days were great. Then we got married on Valentine's Day in the Bellagio Hotel. We used our limo driver as a witness. We used Richard Marx's Right Here Waiting as our wedding song. Then, we consummated our marriage in a concrete gazebo in front of Caesar's Palace on the corner of Las Vegas Boulevard in broad daylight. Our relationship was
very sexual. We spent the rest of the day getting drunk and pottering around Las Vegas, and people loved her wedding dress - it truly was one of the most amazing wedding dresses I have ever seen, and even staff at hotels and casinos in Las Vegas - marriage capital of the world - said the same!
Night time fell, and she was drunk. She tried to cross eight lanes of Las Vegas Boulevard in her wedding dress drunk. I tried to stop her but no luck. Cars screeched to a halt. I was worried for her safety, but she took it as me trying to tell her what to do. She didn't like that. She stormed off around the fountains of the Bellagio and shouted, "I want a divorce!" If that's not a futile cry of a spoilt girl, I don't know what is! An American guy walked past and said, "Take a picture, it'll last longer."
We went to our room in the hotel and slept for a few hours. When we awoke, everything was all good again. And we went out early hours of the morning and spent all night in the casinos.
And this was a taste of the continuous cycles of drunken rages and making up that was to be the bane of our entire marriage... while it lasted.
After considering numerous options of me moving up north to be with her, or her moving down south to be with me, she eventually quit her job and moved down south - we moved into a new flat together on April Fool's Day. And retrospectively, what a fool I was
The following months were tough. I alienated many of my friends. She had no friends down south. It took her a few weeks to find a job in London. She was lonely. All her friends and family were up north and she was thrown into a totally new situation with a new husband she'd only recently met and working in the Big Smoke looking after prostitutes in saunas and cheating husbands. She was a sexual health nurse!
Just like the day we got married, the next few months were a continuous cycle of her getting drunk on red wine (before I even arrived home from work), and making massive arguments out of nothing. Jealous rages over innocent pictures of girls (even just friends) on my computer from the past, before I even met her. I had to remove all girls' numbers from my phone whom she hadn't met or didn't know about. And over the course of the months, she ripped my passport in two with her teeth, she threw my keys off the balcony, she threw orange juice in my face, she slammed doors on my fingers, she stabbed me in the face with a mascara applicator, she kicked me in the balls breaking my little finger as I protected them. And on our honeymoon in Egypt in July, she locked me out of the room when I was ill from food poisoning, and then kicked me off my chair I was sat in outside so I banged my head on the wall behind. She was an evil fucking bitch.
Then she kicked me out of the flat I was paying all the rent on. She gave me tests that I had to pass to allow me to stay for one night of passion (she obviously missed my cock). She threatened to take all the money out of the joint account and spend it all, so I beat her to it as we had bills to pay, to which she claimed I stole all her money! It was horrendous! We were living like Mystery and Katja. We were in the end phase. I was an emotional wreck contemplating suicide, she was playing little fucking games all the time.
There's plenty more, but I won't go into everything here (although I've gone into a lot already!). Then, finally, on my mum's birthday (August 9th), I woke up in the middle of the night to find her pissing in my boxer shorts drawer. She was drunk, obviously. We then argued and fought for an hour. She attacked me, we had physical altercation. Then the concierge called the police.
The police came and saw scratches on me and her bloodshot eye. They arrested me for assault. That was the last I ever saw of her... until our court date seven months later. Little did she know, I had the entire argument from when she pissed in my boxer shorts drawer recorded on my mobile phone. The prosecution didn't know about it, but I had it transcribed, and my barrister got it admitted into court on a CD and it was played to everyone. Her friends and family, my friends, the Magistrates. I imagine her face was a picture, but I couldn't see it as she kept it firmly down reading the transcript through the entire recording. She had already dug her own grave. The account she gave of the night completely contradicted everything in the recording. And she was made out to be a complete psycho in court. Calling me every name under the sun, screaming drunk at me. It was the best day in court I have ever had, and I've had a few days in court in my time.
That was the last time I ever saw her, but not the last I head from her. A few months later, she left me a voicemail saying "I love you, I love you so so much. I really really love you." I drove up north to find her one weekend, but maybe it was fate she was abroad that weekend, and my mate convinced me over the phone that if I got back with her, he would never talk to me again after he went through hell and back and put his own relationship on the line to help me through all shit I went through with her.
Our divorce happened on Independence Day.
Really, one couldn't make this shit up. But it was such an amazing story, it made the front page of several local newspapers... both the beginning and the end!
www.gethampshire.co.uk/news/s/37927_lady_luck_and_love
http://www.gethampshire.co.uk/news/s/20 ... then_storm
I learned a lot from this phase of my life, and it truly was a turning point in many ways. I became a nicer person in a way, more humble to life, my arrogance seemed to dissipate, but my confidence took a good battering. But I feel I'm much more worldly than before, and I don't regret the experience.
I sometimes ask myself though, do I still love her? I definitely miss her sometimes...
Everything that has a beginning, has an end...
CHAT