Hi, I’m Lawrence Lanoff…

But by the time you’re done reading this letter you’ll join thousands of other men and women who call me “The Darth Vader Of Dirty Talk”…

And right here, right now I’m going to let you in on a blistering secret about female lust that man-hating feminists and sleazy pickup artist are terrified you’ll find out…

A secret that will immediately open a sexual buffet to you filled with variety, lust and sweaty, amazing intensity you thought women only faked in porn movies…

And will give you the power to make even the nicest, most conservative and most innocent girl cum like a freight train on command… and without even touching her…

Oh, and just so you don’t make any excuses…

This secret I’m revealing in about 15 seconds will have gorgeous women clawing at your pants and ripping open your fly with their teeth (often 2 or 3 at a time)…

Even if you’re short, broke, fat, or old…

Even if your cock is so small it looks like it belongs on an action figure.

It literally does not matter how repulsive to women you are, how much money you make or even how often you take a bath…

If you just read what I have to say (like a growing army of guys have already) you’ll be spreading women’s thighs on command…

Who the hell am I to make such huge promises and such crazy claims? And why is the “Feminist Nightmare” going to lead to you getting laid on autopilot?

Like I said, my name is Lawrence Lanoff…
I’m 50 years old… skinny… bald… and I’ve got a completely average cock.

And in order to tell you how you’re going to open the door to abundant, incredible sex with a ton of eager women…

I have to tell you about the most humiliating moment of my entire life…

And how the feminists “winning” the battle of the sexes is the best damned thing to happen to your cock since you first learned to masturbate.

“Get away from me you creep!” she screamed in disgust…

Suddenly, I felt my testicles crawl back up into my body and a flood of nausea and panic pulse through me as every head in Trader Joe’s whipped in our direction…

She was hot.

Gorgeous, actually…

A 28-year-old brunette in tight yoga pants with the most beautiful pair of gravity-defying all-natural D-cup tits I’d ever seen…

5 minutes ago…

I’d seen her giving the broccoli a hard-on in the vegetable department…

She smiled at me in a way that sent an electric tingle right to my crotch… licked her lips… tossed her hair…

And when she walked away I caught the scent of her and felt something hungry rise up in me as I imagined her naked and writhing and moaning my name.

For 5 agonizing minutes I dug through every “line,” every “open,” every way of “approaching” a girl this hot I’d ever heard…

But I knew the clock was ticking (it always is)…

I knew I HAD to talk to her before she left the store, before it was too late, or I’d regret it for the rest of my sexual life…

She was in the bread aisle when I found her again…

Bent over at the waist, so I could get lost in her ass and thighs and delicious, toned calves…

Her hands were caressing a loaf of gluten-free-fair-trade-organic-BS-whatever in a way that made my heart pound and my mouth go dry…

I took a deep breath and gathered my confidence…

I walked up to her smiling and friendly and with no hint at all of the pornography she’d inspired in my mind.

Suddenly her eyes flashed to mine like a deer in the woods…

She parted her wet lips…

I watched her incredible breasts rise and fall like waves I wanted to surf on as she took a long, deep breath of her own…

I felt electricity and fire and anticipation for the sweaty, passionate, connected night I knew we were going to share together…

My neck spasmed and my jaw went tight like a bear trap…

I was just going to tell her how beautiful she looked…

How it was women like her who made me so happy to be a man, so happy to be ALIVE, when…

“I said GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME!”

She screamed even louder this time, like a heavy metal guitar solo blasting in my ear…

I stumbled back confused… away from the scent of her clouding my mind…

And that’s when I noticed the pack of scantily-clad sorority girls staring at me like I was some kind of monster…

The roided-up muscle-head in the shredded tank-top flexing his pecs like he couldn’t wait to prove his “masculinity” and kick my ass…

The fat security guard fingering his radio like it was Dirty Harry’s revolver and reporting an “assault” for who-knows-who to hear…

I was so ANGRY…

Not at her…

Not even at our PC society that treats men like dogs just for being guys…

But at myself…

There I was, a fully grown man who loves women…

Who was raised by women and who was taught to always respect women…

Who would rather kill myself than ever hurt a woman…

And in 3 terrible seconds the girl in the yoga pants made me feel like a… rapist.

When they released me (no charges after they saw the security tape), I went home and stared at myself in the mirror…

And I saw what I always saw…

A nice guy…

A good guy…

So why did she look at me that way?

Why did she smile at me if she wasn’t flirting with me?

And why did she SCREAM when I just wanted to say hello?

Why was it so WRONG for me to want to talk to her?

To want to make love to her?

Why did I suddenly feel so disgusting?

I spent hours lying awake in bed that night… rubbing my wrists where the handcuffs had dug into them… tasting bile in my throat when I thought about what had happened not just to me, but to men everywhere.

I thought about the never-ending torrent of news stories about “creepy” guys who DARED to look at a woman with lust…

Militant feminists celebrating The Death of Men…

How more and more guys are flunking out of college…

How all the powerful jobs are going to women…

How having a dick is becoming a societal handicap…

I thought about guys in Japan and around the world giving up… deciding they’d rather be celibate for life than become the emasculated lap-dogs the world is trying to turn them into…

I knew when I got out of bed in the morning I could do one of three things that would change how women looked at me and treated me forever.

1. I could blame her.

I could call her a “crazy bitch.”

I could become one of those guys who uses rejection as an excuse to become a woman-hater and an asshole. Who harasses girls online just to feel OK. . .

I could see the rising power of women as a CURSE…

I could bitch and moan and become the monster I was already being treated like.

2. I could blame myself…

I could learn to hate myself for being born with a cock…

I could become one of those “sensitive” guys who thinks “respecting” women means treating women like they “hate” sex… who thinks his totally natural masculine urges are disgusting and wrong… who lines up to be emasculated, hoping to be “lucky” enough to get a blow job once every couple years.

or…

3. I could see The Feminist Nightmare as the incredible opportunity it is…

I could open my eyes to the terrible lie that you, and I, and every woman in the world had been tricked into believing

I could choose to learn the truth about women and sex…

What women really want from men but refuse to tell us…

Why they say one thing but mean another…

WHY nice guys like me got rejected and abused again and again while douchebags get laid as easily as going to the ATM…

The next day I woke up early, my heart pounding… recovering from a nightmare of a world without testosterone…  my mission pulsing through my veins.

I cracked open my laptop and I got to work searching for the truth…

But quickly I got frustrated… and then angry…

All over the internet I found books and articles and videos from sleazy pickup-artist type guys saying they’d figured out how to trick drunk girls into screwing them…

And violent screeds by so-called “feminists” talking about so-called “male privilege”… and the “evils” of the penis and how MEN as we know them were dying off and that was a GOOD thing.

But I didn’t want to learn how to manipulate women…

And I didn’t want to learn to hate myself…

To cut off my own balls and put them in some girl’s purse.

I didn’t want to learn how to change myself into something I hated…

The next few months were a rush of mind-bending revelations as everything I’d been tricked into believing about women and sex was shredded like a sacred cow in a wood chipper…

The idea that women don’t like sex …that a woman is doing you a “favor” when she sleeps with you…

I saw one simple statistic that blew that one out of the water…

In 1963 the population of the WORLD was 3,201,178,277

Today? It’s over 7 BILLION (and it’s headed for 10 Billion by 2050)… .

So, ask yourself, if women don’t like sex, how the heck did the population of the world DOUBLE in just 50 years?

Why did “50 Shades Of Grey” soak the panties of hundreds of millions of women around the world?

Why is the vibrator industry a $15,000,000 business?

Why is every “number one best seller” on the Amazon Kindle ANOTHER story about an “innocent” woman being “taken” and “ravished” by a strong man, again and again and again?

I’ll tell you right now, the answer is pretty easy…

It’s because, despite everything you’ve been told, women don’t “like” sex…

They LOVE it…

The truth is that most women walk around every day horny as hell…

Fantasizing about sex even more than us guys do… WAITING with baited breath for the right guy to come along and fulfill her dirty, delicious fantasies…

To open her to the connected, erotic pleasure she only dreams her body is capable of…

It’s because no matter how dissatisfied a woman is with the devastating emasculation of men…

No matter how much she desperately wants to be seduced, romanced, ravished, made love to…

No matter how much she craves your strong hands on her… your teeth nibbling her throat… your weight on top of her…

1. Women are terrified of rejection… even more than us guys are

(In fact, since most women never make the first move even ONE rejection could leave her catatonic and “giving up on great sex” for weeks or months.)

2. Women have been taught that only SLUTS want sweaty, passionate, animalistic sex with men.

And admitting what every cell in her body yearns for could destroy her reputation and could even ruin her life… if word gets around or it gets out on social media.

Fear of rejection and shame alone are enough to keep most women’s legs sealed closed with emotional super-glue.

And to make hot girls VERY careful about how they choose the men they sexually surrender themselves to…

Which brings us to the third reason (the most important of them all)…

3. To avoid rejection… to avoid being JUDGED… When it comes to sex and lust and connection and pure physical pleasure…

The fact is, knowing this “Secret Sexual Language” lets you tune in to a woman’s “Sexual Broadcast” and follow the signal back to carnal delights beyond even the most pornographic imagination.

Now, I didn’t discover this Language Of Lust by accident…

It was the Holy Grail at the end of a personal mission that took me years to complete as I learned and tested and tried again and again with dozens and dozens of amazing girls…

All while watching more and more guys who didn’t know this secret bathe in an endless stream of rejection and anger and shame…

Accomplishing my mission to learn the secrets of female lust was difficult and even painful…

After weeks of digging, I found a romance novel millionaire on a forum, called her up, and discovered the incredible “Primal Ravishment Fantasy” secretly carried around by “good girls” all over the world.

I went to Las Vegas and interviewed a straight professional male prostitute…

I was shocked at how out-of-shape and normal-looking he was…

But this fat little gigolo taught me the “Fort Knox Phrase” that had women ripping open their purses and PAYING to have sex with him while so many other guys can’t get laid to save their lives

I got five of my best female friends drunk and listened like my life depended on it…

As they went into EXQUISITE DETAIL about the many times they “dropped the good girl act”…

And gave a random dude the ride of his life (while forcing the “nice” guys they were dating to WAIT for weeks and weeks just to get half a hand job.)

What shocked me even more was when they told me about all the times they WANTED to go home with a guy…

And were devastated when he didn’t know the “Passion Password” which wouldlet her finally drop the act, cut loose and give in to her urgent sexual need.

I interviewed psychology professors, sat in on a women’s studies course, read SMUT written by women, learned “Linguistic Triggers” women refuse to ignore…

It was a survival guide for regular guys to live, get laid and get a girlfriend (if you want) in the devastated ruins of the sexual revolution…

I’d created an “Owner’s Manual” for a woman’s most important erogenous zone…

Her Mind & Her Imagination

It took me a few weeks to put my “Manual” to the test…

A few weeks to run into her again…

The beautiful brunette in the tight yoga pants…

The girl I thought had been flirting with me but who had SCREAMED to protect her reputation when I stupidly made the wrong move…

I was smarter this time…

I saw her in a park near where I live in tight pants and an industrial-strength sports bra creating an epic canyon of cleavage…

She had her mat laid out… her fantastic ass in the air as she held Downward Facing Dog.

I made sure not to get too close… not to approach her and say something stupid like some pickup artist…

I sat down on a bench 10-feet away and admired her astonishing body…

I imagined my tongue on that little spot where her hip and leg connected…

She was glistening with sweat when she finished what she was doing and looked my way…

There was a moment of recognition… a moment where she wasn’t sure what to do… a moment of… apology?

A moment when things could go very right or very, very wrong…

I took a deep breath.

I felt dizzy, scared like I was jumping off a bridge and I wasn’t sure if the bungie cord was tight… but in a totally casual tone, I said it…

The Lust Mirror phrase I’d discovered.

My wrists itched suddenly, flashing back to the feeling of handcuffs…

But I knew it worked…

When her pupils dilated…

When her nipples hardened…

When her hips tilted towards me…

When she smiled…

She wiggled over to me… sat down on the bench to put her shoes on…

Inches away so I could feel her heat… inhale that intoxicating smell of her.

She forgot to tie her shoes as we talked for almost an hour, in low voices like lovers… Me whispering the little tricks and techniques I’d created, her inching closer and closer until her foot hooked around mine like a hug or an invitation…

And then she made the move…

Her hand on my thigh… her lips against mine… her tongue snaking its way into my mouth, her body writhing against me desperate to have me inside.

In the hours we spent together I took control of her fantasies…

Whispered naughty words in her ear that made goosebumps rise on her back…

Stroked her ego, teased her, made her feel feminine and open and vulnerable and safe to unleash her passion with no fear of being judged or rejected …

And in return she surrendered everything to me…

She tore down all her walls… opened herself to me… begged to fulfill my fantasies (and me to fulfill hers)…

Gave me intense pleasure again and again that lit every cell of my body on fire and left me exhausted and satisfied and happy and feeling like a man in a way I never thought I could feel.

At one point she gasped “I love you” as she came… I knew she didn’t mean it. I knew she meant she loved how I was making her feel… she loved that she could completely be a woman with me.

The next morning we woke up in a tangle of damp sheets and smiles…

“I don’t know what came over me,” she sighed as she stretched contentedly…

“I’m not a slut or anything, you know. I don’t usually do that sort of thing. There was just something irresistible about you. I couldn’t help myself.”

I smiled wolfishly at her excuse. Grabbed her ass. Thought about when I’d let her get it again.

He looked at me like a starving man finding a truckload of donuts and said…

“Give. Me. The. Damned. Words. Right. Now.”

I laughed until I saw how serious he was.

His fingers were clenching the table, his knuckles white.

I wasn’t sure at first. I’d worked my ass off to create this… THING… was it really something I wanted to share, especially when there were so many women I wanted to share it with myself?

He’s my best friend. How could I say no?

At midnight I got a picture and a text from Rob…

The picture was a woman with a smile across her face like she’d won the orgasm lottery…

The text was in ALL CAPS with a HUGE smiley emoticon saying…

OH MY GOD YOUR PAVLOV’S PANTY DRENCHER THING – GENIUS AND REALLY WORKS! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

I guess I should have known better than to trust him with this.

Rob never could keep a secret…

Or maybe people could just see the glint in his eye… the spring in his step… the incredibly hot girls under his flabby arm…

Because suddenly things got crazy.

Guys started to call me up…

Email me…

BEG…

And it stuck because that’s what this is:

The Secret Erotic Language of The Feminine Mind

The secret language that lets her know you’re a real man in a sea of douchebags, wimps, and defeated “little boys”…

Which brings us to now…

And brings us to you…

And whether you’re going to be allowed to learn The Language Of Lust too…

But before we go any further and you find out if this is for you, you need to understand…

This isn’t just a power, it’s a responsibility…

Once you learn to tease and turn on and torment any woman this secret way…

I know this sounds almost supernatural…

But this isn’t magic, it’s science…

It’s chemistry.

Because the dirty, astonishing words and phrases you’re about to learn have been psychologically designed to hit the feminine mind like a drug…

Listen: Imagine if we took a brain scan of the woman you want at the moment you look her in the eye, smile and whisper these very special words…

If you compared it to a brain scan of a heroin addict at the moment she injected into her vein…

Would you be able to tell the difference?

Not really. In both cases you’d see an explosion of dopamine flooding her brain…

If you don’t know what dopamine is, it’s the pleasure chemical…

The same chemical released when you share a passionate kiss with someone you’ve lusted after…

Or gorge on a delicious steak…

Or win millions in the lottery…

And that hit of dopamine is what motivates every woman on this planet whether she wants to admit it or not…

And without even knowing why she’s going to come to you again and again because you’re the only guy who knows how to give her her fix.

So here’s the deal (And it’s just for you)…

The Language of Lust

The result of over 5 years of non-stop, intensive research, glorious in-person testing and work…

Work I did to give women the ecstasy so many idiots in the world tell them they’re not “allowed” to have…

See, the Language of Lust isn’t a “course” or an “educational program” where I tell you to change who you are to attract women…

Instead, it’s a collection of almost-magical done-for-you techniques which automatically bore deeply into the mind of any woman you use them on and activate her pure, unbridled LUST on command and just by saying a few words.

The men who have used The Language of Lust so far say thatit’s like a Nuclear Bomb in the battle of the sexes…

A completely unfair weapon which gives you incredible sexual power over women even if they completely ignore you now.

And positions you to be the one guy in your city who truly knows how to turn her on and give her permission to give in to her secret desires.

Here’s just a tiny sample of the secrets you’re going to learn and the amazing results you’re going to almost-automatically get when you discover The Language of Lust today…

The Pavlov’s Panty Drencher Technique…

Use this to condition a woman to become unreasonably turned on and quiver with desire for you every time you whisper a seemingly innocent phrase of your choice in her ear…

Warning: Using this in public has been known to draw stares from other men in the room as she immediately soaks her panties, ruins her chair, and gasps like she’s just run a sexual marathon.

Next you’ll learn…

How to tickle her Emotional G-Spot

so she BEGS to be your personal slut while turning other guys down and insisting she’s “not that kind of girl” to everyone but you.

Doing this turns all her distaste and shame around the word “slut” into white-hot lust aimed directly at you.

You’ll feel like you have sexual super-powers when you learn this next one…

I call it The Lust Mirror Technique…

This method is so easy to do to a woman, but so powerful…

It allows you to create a feedback loop of ravenous lust between you and a girl…

Where the more turned on you are, the more turned on she gets…

Until she’s aching for you with sexual desperation, pulling you by the belt to the bedroom and staring at you like a hungry lioness who just stumbled upon a porterhouse steak.

Ever wish you just had a Remote Control for her sex drive?

You’ll discover the secret power of Pleasure Resistance…

And exactly what to say and do when she’s “not in the mood” to have her gushing, spreading her legs and breathing heavy in seconds.

The Kink Exposure Method

Allows you to discover her deepest, most hidden fantasies as easily as taking a picture on your cell phone…

IMPORTANT: Use this method and you’ll know things about her sexual desires she might be SCARED to admit herself… which is why I’m also going to teach you how to awaken a woman to her hidden sexuality without even a hint of guilt or shame.

And that’s just the tip of the erotic iceberg.