There's a guy who works at the local Trader Joe's whose voice could make me wet. If I could just slow down his efficient scanning of my items and ask him enough questions. He's unfailingly polite, with a slight edge of familiarity. Not just with me, he's that way with everyone. At least all the women. Friendly in that way of knowing he has a superpower that can make women melt, and make them wet. That voice.
It's deep and resonant. He speaks as if every word just slides out of his mouth effortlessly, in that rumbly bass. He's also quite pretty to look at. Short black hair and a 2 day beard. I've never seen him clean shaven, though the edges of his intentional scruff are well-tended. Dark brown eyes and a brilliant smile complete the picture.
I have been schooled well by my daughter, who works a job that deals with customer service; do not flirt with the guy at Trader Joe's, or anyone anywhere who works with the public.
Because there's no where to go. You are trapped. If you are honest about your lack of interest, you have just insulted a customer. You can't win. So you just stand there and smile and feel horribly uncomfortable.
Okay, point taken. I'd never really thought about it from that perspective.
So I don't flirt with Mr. Scruff with the Deep Voice. That would be rude. Instead, I always choose his line, no matter if it's longer, and I'm chatty with him. Just a friendly type of chatty, nothing more. Asking him if he's tried a new item or talking about how I prepare something. I imagine he feels the undercurrents. You can't look pretty and scruffy plus sound dead-on sexy without trying and be totally unaware of the power you wield. He knows.
But he doesn't know that the last time I was there, later that night I got off thinking about fucking him from behind, grabbing his hips and pulling them back to meet my thrusts, and hearing that deep voice roar with pleasure as each stroke sunk as deep as he could take.
No, he doesn't know.
That would be rude.