“How would you seduce my wife?” you asked me.
Perhaps you were daring me. And, if that’s the case, let the games begin!
You see it doesn’t take much to make a woman happy. Men think it’s so complicated, when it’s really very simple.
Your wife wants to feel wanted and needed. She wants to feel special. But more than that, she wants to feel alive.
Your quick pinch of her tits or a grab of her crotch are not foreplay to her. They are signs that you think she’s easy and not worth the time it would take to get her aroused.
How would I seduce your wife? First, I’d ask her about her day while I massage her shoulders. As I work out the knots in her neck, I would whisper close to her ear, “Mm, you smell so nice, what’s that scent you’re wearing?”
All I did there was acknowledge that she’d taken the time to smell pretty. Are you taking notes?
My fingertips skim down her arms to her hands as I ask, “How about I work some of that same magic on your feet?”
Her eyes roll back in her head as she moans. My thumbs massaging away the ache of being on her feet all day. My hands move up to her calves and I comment how smooth and muscular they are.
Did you catch that? How I let her know that I noticed her freshly shaved legs and the fact that she probably works out? Subtle, huh?
Testing the waters, I take my touch higher. My fingertips drawing small soft circles on her inner thighs. Her eyes are closed. She’s pretending she doesn’t know what’s coming next, but she does. And she’s making no effort to stop me.
I move to sit next to her now. I ask her if she likes what I am doing, how I am making her feel. She murmurs, “Mm hmm.”
I begin to unbutton her blouse. She simply sighs. I trace the curve of her breast ever so slightly. She sighs again.
I lean in and whisper, “Have you ever been with a woman before?”
She shakes her head, keeping her eyes closed. If she opens them, this becomes real. But she is relishing the fantasy of being seduced and wooed and doesn’t want it to end. So, her eyes remain closed while her body opens to me.
I make no sudden moves; I simply take my time. I remove her blouse slowly, unhurried. I want to make this last for her.
I whisper, “You have such beautiful breasts.”
This time, I don’t have ask for permission, she begs, “Touch them, please!”
I unhook her bra, commenting on how thoughtful she was to have worn the style that clasps in the front. She smiles, knowing her planning ahead was appreciated, even if she hadn’t been preparing for me.