When the space between almost and finally becomes unbearable… see more
There comes a moment in every man’s life when he discovers the exquisite power of restraint. It’s that electric space between intention and action – where desire builds to an almost painful intensity. Young men rush through this moment, but we who’ve lived know better. The true art lies in stretching that moment until it becomes delicious torture.
I remember the first time I truly understood this. She was the wife of a business associate – one of those elegant women who carried herself like she’d already forgotten more about pleasure than most women would ever know. We found ourselves alone on the terrace after dinner, the summer air thick with unspoken possibilities.
When she reached to adjust the strap of her dress, my fingers intercepted hers. But instead of taking what was offered, I paused. Let my thumb trace slow circles on the inside of her wrist while our eyes locked. Watched as her breathing changed. Felt the pulse beneath her skin quicken. That moment – that unbearable suspension between “almost” and “finally” – lasted an eternity. And when I finally leaned in, her mouth met mine with a hunger that still haunts my dreams.
This is the secret they don’t teach young men: women don’t just want to be touched. They want to ache for it first.
The science behind this is fascinating. Researchers at the Kinsey Institute found that anticipation activates the same pleasure centers in the brain as physical touch itself. When we prolong that moment before contact, we’re not just teasing – we’re actually intensifying the eventual experience.
Here’s how to master this art:
- The Almost-Touch
Let your hand hover near the small of her back as you guide her through a doorway. Close enough that she feels your body heat, but not quite making contact. Watch how she arches slightly toward you when you do this. - The Withdrawn Compliment
Instead of blurting out how beautiful she looks tonight, let your gaze linger just a beat too long. When she notices, smile slowly and look away without explanation. - The Interrupted Kiss
When you finally move in, stop just before your lips meet. Whisper something unexpected – “You taste like trouble” – then make her wait three more agonizing seconds.
The married women at my club swear this is why they occasionally “stray.” Not for the sex itself, but for those stolen moments where a man makes them feel truly desired through his restraint. As one confessed over whiskey: “My husband hasn’t made me wait for anything in twenty years.”
There’s a particular thrill in seducing a woman who thinks she’s immune to temptation. The church committee chairwoman. The devoted soccer mom. The widow who’s convinced her passion died with her husband. These are the women who respond most powerfully to the art of anticipation, because they’ve forgotten what it feels like to want something they can’t immediately have.
I’ll never forget the afternoon with Margaret, the prim librarian who always wore those high-necked blouses. For months, I’d make our weekly book returns last just a little too long. A hand brushing hers when passing novels. A shared laugh that ended with my face inches from hers. Then one rainy Tuesday, I found her waiting by my car instead of the circulation desk. The way her fingers trembled as she unbuttoned that blouse proved my theory – the longer the wait, the sweeter the surrender.
So to the young men reading this: slow down. The best moments in life aren’t found in the having, but in the wanting. Learn to stretch those moments until the tension becomes unbearable. Because when you finally do close that last inch of distance, you’ll discover a truth known only to those with patience:
Nothing – absolutely nothing – compares to a woman who’s been made to wait.