Tart & Soul

A Search for Meaning and Connection

Tart & Soul

Tart & Soul
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A search for meaning and connection. Follow me - http://twitter.com/LKWarrell Become a Fan - http://www.facebook.com/LKWarrellAuthor

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DECEMBER 14, 2009 10:28AM

The Last Seduction

Rate: 26 Flag

lighting-cigarette1 

A man on the street accidentally winked at me.  He must have had something in his eye, I know the wink wasn’t for me.  But it got me thinking. 

I miss flirting.  I miss the fine art of seduction.  I miss feeling the dizzying chemistry between me and a man linger long enough for the tension to swell.  I long for the days when men wanted to work a little harder to get a gal’s attention and women knew how to beguile.  Back when the journey to bed was almost as intoxicating as the arrival.  

A wink.  A light touch on your back as your paths cross.  A man watching your lips move when you speak.  I’d take up smoking just to have a guy light my cigarette.  Those are the most alluring gestures because there’s mystery and eroticism in them.  Romantic foreplay, if you will.  One of the sexiest moments I’ve had all year was catching the object of my desire staring at me from the other side of a room.  The whole world was buzzing around us, but it was just me and him locked in a stare.  

Having a dude ogle your cleavage and tell you how “wicked hot” you are within minutes of meeting you just doesn’t cut it anymore.  Nowadays, the mating game is all about Cuervo shots, witless come ons and grinding each other to shitty Justin Timberlake songs.  I’m glad we don’t live in the goofy, puritanical ‘50s anymore but I don’t want to live in porno America either.  

I think I’ll build a time machine and go back to the ‘20s.  I’ll smoke cigarettes out of holders and do the Charleston.  Instead of crotch-length mini skirts and thongs, I’ll wear shimmery dresses that hug my body with garters and stockings hidden beneath.  A man with bedroom eyes will watch me from across the room, he’ll send over a cocktail and wait for my cue to approach.  He’ll say something like, “do you believe in love at first sight” and I’ll reply, “I don’t know, but it sure saves a lot of time.”  Instead of grinding him to Timberlake, I’ll sashay across the floor and let him follow my hips with his eyes.  At the end of the night, we’ll share a kiss so full of promise we’ll be eager to see each other again.  

Now, that’s what I call bringing sexy back.

 **Reprinted from Laura K. Warrell's blog, Tart and Soul, at www.TartandSoul.com.

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Gosh the '20s...you do paint such an exiting picture.
If only. Rated for seduction, a lost art. r
oooooh...yes. you do paint quite a picture.
Great post. It takes two for that tango. A willingness to forgo the quick and easy. Be the kind of person you seek.
Those men are still out there, so no need for time travel. I think I might have been one once, but then I caught her - or she caught me. The debate's ongoing four years later. Thanks for the memories, now I'm all tingly.

-SFS
That sounds like my philosophy of life. Always played that way, see no reason to quit. If you want a quick thrill, buy a vibrator or rent a movie. It's a lot more fun to plot, plan, seduce, hunt, conquer!
Nowadays, women who claim to understand seduction are teaching pole dancing. Good grief. Where men are concerned, only an unweaned mama's boy finds a pole dance seductive. I miss the Compass Rose, San Francisco's once most beautiful barroom, a place where one could sit in a dimlit corner, in beautiful surroundings, sip martinis and exchange double entendres. When you get that time maching up and running, let me know. I'd love to be your first paying fare.
Don't be so sure that art is completely lost - what six foot skinny and Monsieur Chariot said. From what you've written it appears you do appreciate those romantic overtures and I'm sure there's someone out there for you who does too.
Thanks, everyone! You're all so sweet.
Totally hot description.

I would have made a great flapper.
I consider myself an old soul and quite old-fashioned. The art of romance is not lost...just ask Smithery... He knows that of which he speaks. He could write a book about it, with utter sincerity.
This will make a comeback. ;).
Great post. I miss flirting.
This is a significant post. Sometimes in our headlong rush to overliberation the baby gets thrown out with the bathwater. The baby in question here may be wandering around in the 20s -- or 30s -- somewhere back there -- or merely have grown up and is feeling really irritated at the lack of real women with whom to artfully flirt. If it requires time travel, well then, I'll see you there. Rated.
Right with you, and not settling for less, I do believe there are men who believe in genuinely putting in the effort...as many others have commented too...I'm going the non-smoking route though...that's optional, right?
In the nifty 50's or sexy 60 's ladies dressed so much sexier with dresses high high heels with class and seductive attitudes ,it was an adventure to go on a date. Most men would not even think of going on a date without a tie and jacket. Friday night was girls night out and this is when you cruised to the dance or piano bars in search of your female prey, or we were trapped by the flirtatious smile and lady like behavior!!! We did real dancing holding our partner and playing the coy games, I still miss the chase but I know we had the best of times. I do not look with envy at the young today women dressed stuffed in there clothes and men dressed as slobs NO CLASS in this generation its just a meat market, I can still have fond remembrances of asking" May I have this dance?" And the game begins!!! Thank you for the last seduction....
please make your way back machine big enough for two - I wanna go too!
Like the old Heinz ketchup jingle, "Anticipation" - seduction must make a comeback.
This is so sensual! Thank you for writing, and I agree the 20's were pretty amazing. Look at what they had to work with, but yet, it seemed like everyone was always dressed up. Very Sexy and Hot. ~R~
I like your distinction betwen the 50s and porno-America. I had teh great fortune to work in Latin America for several years in the 80s and very much enjoyed how flirting was so much a part of the culture. I missed it quite a bit when I returned. You can still do it but you really have to pick your spots. The risk of someone getting hugely offended or interpreting it as a sincere come-on are much greater here.
I don't think I am alone when I remember seduction unfullfilled. Perhaps it is imagination that propels these images and thoughts to the forefront of my conciousness. Maybe I was restrained because it was too hot. More likely I was afraid to touch this very hot item for fear of being burnt. This was very uncharacteristic. I was the usual male dog that humped every leg at the party.

Cynthia could had been a fashion model from France. Born in France she came to America when she was ten years old. She spoke perfect French and her English had a charming faint french lilt. Her hair grew up from her forehead in a frosted blond like soft clouds. Her eyebrows were dark, natural, perfectly shaped and in contrast to the blond highlights. She had a perfect hairline. The soft bump on her nose only highlighted perfect cheekbones and her electic green eyes.

Cynthia worked for me, a middle manager at the time, in sales. She was the only woman in a sea of men. She never wore makeup and always dressed in stylish but conserative outfits.

I think the connection happened at a sales meeting when one of the male reps referred to her as a secretary and I jumped all over him. I am a big guy but beyond this I can be very forceful and domineering. The animal emerged. The room became silent.

From this moment forward we were a team. I was the sales manager and she was on her way to being top salesperson. She trusted me and in hindsight she began to subtlely suduce me. In all fairness, in spite of being married, I played along willingly in this seduction.

We became a sales team. As all of our prospects were male, she was the bait and I was the closer. We started to close a lot of sales together. We both understood the unspoken dynamic.

I am not sure when the line was crossed, but I remember the day when she asked. "Why do you think we make such a good team?"

My simple and honest answer was you are beautiful. You get us in doors that are closed. It was out. I crossed the line.

The next day Cynthia arrived for work uncharacteristically late. There was a subtle change in her appearance. She was wearing lipstick, but still no other makeup and for the first time had a skirt above her knee and a silk blouse with a tailored linen jacket. She came into my office and apologized for being late. She said, "I am sorry I am late. I know we are a team and I am willing to to whatever I need to do to help. How do I look?" They way she said it, I think she rehearsed the presentation.

The dog in me took over. I knew at my base level that she was offering herself to me. But I was married. I loved my wife. But in my mind all I heard was - I had a perfect 23 year old women offering to do whatever it takes. I knew I had crossed the line, but this was moving very fast.

My response, "You look very nice" I needed some time. I was attracted but guilty. We had been so professional to this point, I was not sure if she even knew I was married. I decided not to mention it.

About a week later we having lunch al fresco on Newbury St. after a sales meeting and she asked out of the blue "Do you like my body?"

Since she had always dressed conservatively, I always imagined but had no definitive picture. I knew she was tall and slim, but not much more. But the question once again put me of guard. This was crossing another line.

But this time, the man jumped out and said, "Put on your bikini and lets go to the beach if you want the answer".

At the end of lunch we got back into the car and I took the initiative for the first time. I told Cynthia we had the afternoon off.
We are going to the beach. So we went a few blocks to her apartment on Beacon St. and she stepped into the bedroom and put on her bikini, covered up with a robe, and we headed of to the beach.

Along the way we bought a bottle of Champagne. We drank the whole bottle from plastic glasses before we even arrived at the beach in Rockport. We were both giggling by the time we arrived.

We spent a lot of time in the water together. Cynthia wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me into her. We kissed for the first time. We kissed again more intensly. This was forbidden fruit. This was the begining of the culmination or our mutual seduction.

We both jumped back into the car and headed back to Boston and her apartment from Rockport.

I will not tell the details, but nothing happened when we got back. I felt guilty, backed down and will regret this till the day I die. sorry for the unhappy ending.
Not lost...just very rare. That makes it all the more special.
This is one of the sexiest posts I've read in a long time.
Ironically, an era in which women had only recently gained the right to vote, we were treated with more respect than we are today. Bummer.

Thank you for posting this.
This is intriguing to hear, although if you're wondering why men don't flirt anymore, I have to point out that most of us had all the gallantry and high-level flirting driven out of us by junior high at the latest, since the line between seduction and sexism or even harassment is pretty tenuous. Overall, it's not good for your image, particularly if you botch it, and at that age image is everything. And do women REALLY want to be seduced instead of just imagining it? This reminds me of the movie "Tootsie," where the Jessica Lang character confides to her "girlfriend" (Dustin Hoffman impersonating a female TV actress) how she fantasizes about being seduced by a guy who would come up to her and feed her a really smooth, sexy line. But when an enamored Hoffman, now appearing as his real self, tries this very line out on her at a cocktail party, she gives him a poisonous stare and pours her drink onto his shoes...

There's also the scene in Erica Jong's novel "Fear of Flying," where Isadora fantasizes about the "zipless ****" on a train, only to react in disgust when the opportunity finally presents itself. Go figure.

Rated.
Courtship has taken a serious beating, and seduction offends a lot of women. What's a poet to do?
You know you are completely right about flirtation. It is some of the best stuff on earth. I have been going out with my boyfriend for almost 7 months and I have to say my favorite moment of our relationship was when we were eying each other across borders (where I worked at the time.)