A guy on the train and I are flirting madly. We’re having fun, but I know it’s not going anywhere. As time draws near to when I’m about ready to leave, I let him down slowly with a contrasting statement.
“How is it this not enough, yet too much?’
“Because you can’t do what I do.”
We’d been conversing for a while; I knew I was deep in his head space. I arch a brow, slowly tilting my head back and to the side, as I even more slowly lick the inside of my lower lip before pursing them and then wait as he watches me. His response is near instantaneous and far too easy.
His pupils dilate and breath catches a little.
A vein near his jaw starts to pulse rapidly.
A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck in nervous curiosity. He realizes what he is doing and quickly brings his hand down.
I know my smile turns into a slow, but teasing grin. Like I said, too easy.
“How – I don’t even know what to call it – what is it you do?”
“Apparently manipulate sympathetic divisional responses in your autonomic ganglia.” I grin, mostly to myself, for I absolutely adore the times when I can successfully reel off such information at a moment’s notice as though it were pedestrian conversation filler.
Luckily, the train pulls into my station, so I stand and head to the door.
“Sorry, not telling, a woman has to have her secrets.” I wink exiting. At least I left him with a smile and tumescence.
Let’s see how others are slicing through this Tuesday: