Long before “Basic Instinct,” women employed
the power of the leg cross-uncross-recross. Of course, I wore panties – it would
have been unthinkable to do otherwise for a nice seventeen-year-old virgin at
the time – and I assure you, the power of those moves is not in the
flash of heaven revealed but the potential and reminder of how near it is.
I consciously re-arranged my legs,
carefully displaying my calves to their best advantage. I smoothed my pantyhose
along the length of my leg a time or two, for good measure. I made sure to lean
forward just enough that my blouse may or may not have fallen open enough to
reveal a hint of cleavage. And of course, whenever that happened, almost immediately,
the mass of my hair tumbled forward and obscured it. That naturally
necessitated me flipping my hair back out of the way, and arranging it.
Phil stumbled through the lyrics to four
or five songs. His voice deepened, cracked, his register changed numerous
times. He blushed like mad. He scowled. He balled his hands into fists and
concentrated harder. I decided to cut him some slack.
I leaned way back and draped my left arm
around the arm of the chair, well aware of how this made my bosom rise. I
tilted my head back just a smidgeon, exposing my long neck. I maintained eye
contact the entire time. A friend of mine would have employed some tongue
flicking at that point.
It would have been complete overkill.
2 comments:
conquest
I like to think of it as a win-win situation ;)
Thanks for your comment!
Ginger
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