True, absolute, all-consuming seduction is, perhaps, one of the most magical and marvelous things in the universe. What most people assume to be seduction is merely a form of sexual persuasion. If Cyrano persuades Roxanne into disrobing for a tryst, he has seduced her, at least, according to common belief. Only when confronted by a true, magical master of seduction, does one begin to fathom the stark contrast between sexual persuasion and true seduction become clear. One is the shrugging of shoulders and agreeing, the other an unstoppable force of divine nature that shatters one’s soul, reconstituting it into longing, yearning, and horny desire of such magnitude that the entire universe slips away into the void, leaving only bliss, pleasure, and erotic delight in its wake.

Tori’s psyche was splintered by what had just occurred. Her social conditioning and self-image vehemently protested her prior behavior, but other parts of her rebelled against her timid, sexually conservative sides, citing how alive, free, and aroused she felt. Good girls don’t let themselves become possessed by horny lust and then masturbate in public, in full view of anyone that cared to look. The deviant, taboo thrill of being bad overruled her trepidation. Decent women don’t act like complete whores and stand up in the middle of a busy bar, stripping off their panties while everyone watched, commented, and smiled. Tori’s pussy quickly grew soaked at the thought of how indecently she had acted, and she liked it. 

Seduction has precious little to do with sex, but the sexual thrill of being in the midst of it cannot be denied. Tori knew what arousal felt like, and this was so far above and beyond just being horny that she couldn’t find words to describe the sensation. There are persuaders, some who know a bit about real seduction, and then there are sex gods, the true seducers. The blonde’s heart beat for him, pining away; her mind was filled with only thoughts of him, romantic, sexual, and nastily perverted. The young woman’s flesh scorched and boiled, longing for his touch, although he hadn’t even touched her once on the previous evening.

Victoria felt truly alive for what seemed like the first time in her entire life, which was a new experience for her. All of her self-conditioning was quickly forgotten, and she mentally justified all of her wants and desires in a twisted, tangled strand of logic that defied both reality and common sense. None of that mattered to the smitten woman; the only thing of import in her existence had become him, especially the way he made her feel.

Emotions, of paramount importance in all things romantic and sexual, overran her heart, body, and soul. Unfettered, increased, and enhanced by his sensual aura, Tori’s entire essence was enraptured, overwhelming, passionate arousal turning her into a quivering mass of horny need. The excitement and pussy-drenching anticipation of what she instinctively knew was going to happen coupled with the combined sensations of being more aroused than ever before and that post-orgasmic, vibrating tingling of bliss had her thoroughly in the throes of a sexual, romantic stupor. Victoria had voluntarily reduced herself to the mentality of a horny college coed, sex, lust, and desire coursing through her.

Of two minds, the smitten blonde tried to talk herself out of her new fixation. Glevin was just another, regular guy. As soon as she tried to convince herself of that, his image came, unbidden, to her mind’s eye, and she lost herself in the vision. His piercing, hypnotic eyes glowed in her memories; his sexy body whetted her lust; and his enticing wit and sharp humor made her drool. The fearmongering portions of her tried to warn her that she needed to exercise caution, but the burning need had grown to such intensity that she rejected all negative notions; he was her one, and that was that.

More akin to adolescent obsession than the romance of adulthood, Tori’s entire day, although she had myriad things on her to-do list, was solely comprised of daydreams and fantasies. The lithe, sexy blonde’s spirit was possessed with sexual fixation and the warm, all-encompassing comfort of feeling truly seen, appreciated, respected, and desired—all at once. The fact that he made her so unbelievably horny while making her feel respected had her brain on sensual overload.

Tori was mentally debating what to wear, finding herself giddy at the prospect. While she had volunteered her entire life story, he hadn’t given her much information about himself. The sense of mystery about him just made her volcanic heat erupt more, fiery lust singing her core. Deeply involved whether she should wear plain panties, a sexy thong, or nothing at all, the light-eyed woman shrieked in surprise when a sound knock rapped on her front door.

“Blooming Love Flowers,” a young woman’s voice said from the other side of the door.

Surprised and curious, Victoria opened the door, wondering who would have sent her flowers. Her parents sometimes sent her flowers for special occasions, such as Valentine’s Day, but modern lovers aren’t exactly famous for their silly, campy romantic gestures. Tori, like a lot of modern women, lied to herself, verbally insisting that she didn’t like receiving flowers. Perhaps, that was true up until that moment, but, as soon as she opened the door, a bewildered look on her face, her mind reversed its decision, and she melted at the sight of the long, cream-colored flower box, wide golden ribbons tied around it, ending in a large bow.

“How sweet,” Tori smiled at the delivery girl. “Who are they from?”

“They don’t tell us that, ma’am. Sign here, please.”

Although she was still dressed in sweatpants and a grubby, old T-shirt, Tori felt like a princess. It wasn’t the fact that she’d, finally, received romantic flowers from a man for the first time in her twenty-seven years of life; the fact that somebody had taken the time to send them, proving that she was on their mind, sent fiery seduction shooting through her veins. She violently tore at the bow, trying to untie it, the ribbons tearing and the corner of the floral box denting as she struggled.

True seduction isn’t just getting a woman horny; it’s all about making her feel. The quivering woman’s mind, heart, soul, and body were all acting in concert. Typically, our thoughts run rampant, jumping to a multitude of topics at once and at random. At that moment, her thoughts focused solely on how he made her feel. By proxy, this meant he possessed her mind. With her body aching for him in lust-filled, yearning and her heart thundering for his touch, glance, and approval, every mote of the blonde’s essence was vibrating in tandem. Though she dared not voice the thought, she was his—completely and utterly.

As deeply as she’d sunk into the depths of seduction, the flowers, trite, campy, but uncommon enough in today’s self-centered world to be charming and memorable, pulled her even down deeper, as if they were an anchor determined to drown her in romance, lust, and bliss. Long-stemmed roses, aromatic and perfect, filled the box’s innards, splashes of green around them. Victoria chided herself over her eyes welling up with tears. She wasn’t the romance-addicted type, but it all felt so unique, entirely different. Then she saw the card, its envelope tethered to one rose stem, between two thorns, by gold, glittery, elastic string.

She pulled the roses from the now-crumpled box, counting two dozen of them, and retrieved the card, careful to not break or bend the stem.

“My eyes pine to glimpse the perfection that is you,” the card began. It was handwritten, in black pen, the penmanship obviously masculine. “My slumbering mind dreamed of only you. My heart beats out the remaining seconds until I see you, anew, in three hours.” It wasn’t signed; it didn’t need to be.

Lost for thought, words unable to form, she just stared, absorbing the sight of the roses, then the card she held, then back. All Tori could do was revel in the moment, letting the amalgam of sensations caress her soul. 

He sent flowers! How sweet, old-fashioned, and sexy.

She read the card at least thirty times, thinking that his hands actually touched the card; he wrote the card with his own pen. That meant that he didn’t just make a call; he went to the florist’s, in person, and wrote the card specifically for her. The little rectangle of card stock not only became her new, prized possession, but it also held the faint aroma of roses, and something else… something manly. Her light eyes grew wide and dreamy when she realized that the card smelled of not only flowers but somehow had a hint of his cologne, barely detectable.

Although she hadn’t noted it the night before, except that he smelled “good,” her primal, instinctive memory conjured up his unique scent and how it affected her. Those feelings rushed back, consuming her flesh and gripping her soul. This time, however, the lusty, magical feelings she’d felt were amplified. The scent was subtle, but its effect was to take her already molten libido and make it steam. Earthy, natural, watery, and so alluring, it wasn’t some store-bought or common cologne smell. It grabbed her heart, enshrouding it in feelings of love and safety. That wisp of cologne made her pussy drip, and her imagination conjured how he’d smell when he was nude and sweating from sexual exertion, on top of her as she screamed in ecstatic delight.

The demons of boundless lust clawed their way to the surface of her core, and Tori unthinkingly tugged her gray, simple sweatpants down to her ankles, grabbing one of the blooms. Her thighs spread instinctively as she lowered the rosebud to her overheating snatch. The soft, delicate petals touched her sensitive nub, and her clit jumped in erotic pleasure as the silky, smooth redness sent impassioned, horny shivers up and down her spine.

Leaning back in her chair, Victoria moaned, lost deep in a fantasy of sucking his cock and riding him until she was sated. The soft, romantic rose stimulated her clit, and she rubbed it over her swollen clit, her gestures becoming faster, more frenetic. Moaning, her blue eyes glazing over, she inhaled his manly, enticing scent, sighing, then quickly pulled her shirt over her braless breasts, her movements desperate and needy. She tugged on her tingling, hard nipples, then flicked the edge of the card over them, her moans increasing in volume and urgency.

“Glevin,” she chanted, feeling her passion well up inside her dripping loins almost instantly. Without any further buildup, her horny state of incomprehensible arousal consumed her, a torrid orgasm of such intensity that her vision blackened and blurred erupted. The shapely blonde lost all control, her mind and body devolving into primal instincts, only pleasure to be felt, merely grunting groans emanating from her wide-open mouth.

“Aaarrr, mmmph, Ooh, mmm,” was the closest thing to actual words Tori screamed. Her body flailed about as if in seizure, and wave after wave of passion crashed over her writhing body, not quenching her heated flesh, only increasing her arousal, despite the intensity of her orgasm. Dropping the sweet-manly-smelling card, she grabbed another rose, holding it by the blossom, and ran the stem over her heaving breasts. The prickly thorns added a bit of taboo pleasure in the form of not-quite-pain, ticking over her crinkly, swollen areola before she raised the stem, smacking her tits with the spiky thorns.

The rose between her thighs, soaked with the heat of her sexual nectar, fell to the floor as she plunged two fingers inside her pussy, all pretense of acting ladylike destroyed and forgotten. The thorns pelted her lust-reddened flesh harder and faster, leaving tiny welt points as she used her other hand to alternate between fucking her fiery hole and pounding against her throbbing clit.

Tori’s second orgasm was so overpowering that tears streamed from her eyes, and she flopped about for more than a minute before the cataclysmic rifts of pleasure ceased pounding against her soul. Still lost in her feelings, her third and fourth cums were just as intense. The theater of her mind played visions of him for her, her imagination creating kinky, dirty scenarios—sexual acts of depravity that she’d never even considered, before, suddenly becoming an urgent, needy desire.

“I’m going to fuck him,” she moaned, her fingers still buried in her pussy.

So deeply enthralled that she didn’t even notice that she’d said, “Fuck,” instead of her usual “have sex,” Tori just moaned in anticipatory delight, wishing that it was time to see him. They’d only spent a little over one hour together, and he never once laid a finger on her, but not having sex with him was better than most of the love-making she’d had in her entire existence. His power over her was so comforting, natural, and welcomed that Victoria embraced her lusty side, no longer even thinking about whether she should act in any particular way. She wanted to, needed to, and she hoped that it would please him; that, alone, was more than enough.

“Fuck!” she screamed, shocked back to reality when she saw the clock. It’s nearly seven.”

She knew where her day had gone, but was not ready to confront full self-awareness. Rather than go about her day, she spent all of her time daydreaming and masturbating over him. Unconscious of the fact that she was enchanted, Tori sprang up from her seat, nearly tripping as her sweatpants caught around her ankles, and sprinted to the shower. She had intended to take her time getting ready; she wanted to get everything perfect to stun him when he saw her. But, she wiled away her day with her fingers in her cunt, musing over what their future children would look like.

Victoria rushed through her shower, soaping herself off and slicking it off her body as quickly as she could muster. She did, however, take her time grooming her pubic patch. Not liking the bare look, she kept her pubes’ natural shape, trimming the soft, curly hair down and precisely contouring the edges. Wanting something fresh and sexier, she trimmed it narrower, leaving an inverted trapezoid, roughly three fingers in width at the top and tapering toward the promised land.

Her vanity was cluttered with hair and makeup products, despite how tidy she kept the rest of her home. Working furiously to expedite the process, she dried and styled her hair, then did her makeup. While she began with light and fun, her makeup, as she let her mood guide her, turned smoky, dark, and seductive. Tori’s warpaint was more akin to her fourth-date style than how she made herself up for her first. If a potential boyfriend lasted that long, she’d usually sleep with them to see if they were sexually compatible. Old habits die hard; her thoughts were on rough, primal sex, and her exterior enhancements demonstrated that.

“You look hot enough to fuck,” she said to her reflection. “He won’t be able to resist you.”

Rather than finish preparing for her date, Victoria turned every which way, admiring her sultry reflection in the mirror. Her nipples, which stood out proudly when she was cold or aroused, had swollen to the point of tingling. Every heartbeat sent erotic thrills through her body that began at her throbbing, pink tips and shot, randomly, through her core. Spying her unused curling iron, long, round, and inviting, Tori didn’t even try to think. She just grabbed it, flicking her wrist to get the coiled cord out of her way, and thrust it inside her pussy.

Slamming her heels onto her vanity, legs spread, Tori observed herself as she plunged the curling iron into her still-dripping pussy. Her face looked so sexy to her, with her makeup perfectly suggestive, her blond hair feminine and inviting, and her pert, slightly-large breasts heaving as she fucked herself. Soon, she was moaning loudly, her pending date forgotten as she imagined Glevin as a strong, dominant man, not domineering, but so strong that she felt compelled to obey his every whim, to please him. One of her hands toyed with her aroused tits, and the other pounded the hairstyling implement deeper and harder into her sodden tunnel.

She was just a few thrusts away from cumming once more when she heard a loud knock at her front door. Cursing, she looked at the clock—7:50 pm—and sprang up, grabbing a too-thin, satin robe and shirking her flesh into it as she ran for the door.

“Coming,” she screamed, wishing she’d had a more modest robe handy.

Victoria stopped in front of the door, panting from her mad dash, a feeling of uncertainty and timidness filling her body. The vibrating horniness still remained. 

“Um, who’s there?”

“Your chariot has arrived, my lady,” Glevin’s smooth, romantic, and incredibly seductive, even-toned voice stated.

She could hear the mirth and humor in his words, and she pictured him, dressed exactly as he was on the previous night, smiling that roguish, crooked smile that made her panties damp. Tori smoothed out the short, thin, sating robed, feeling the tingles when her jutting nipples flicked under her moving palms, steeled her nerves, and placed her hand on the doorknob.

I don’t care how sexy he is or how he makes me feel; I do NOT ‘have it bad’ for him. I’m going to act normal and take things slowly.

She flung the door open, a sheepish smile on her lips. What she saw stunned her. As soon as she opened the door and saw him, everything she’d felt that day—all those intense, hot emotions; all the feelings of joy and peace; and her overwhelming, unbridled, horny lust—paled in comparison to the way his presence affected her. Her resolve disappeared, blinking out of existence in her mind when she saw him. The blonde’s heart skipped a few beats, then erupted into a thunderous drum solo; her words of greeting caught in her throat, so overcome with pure lust and desire that, “uuughn,” was the only sound she could form. What surprised her, is that her mind was immediately filled with the dirtiest, kinkiest, and nastiest thoughts she’d ever had, plans on turning those ideas into a reality immediately following.

His gaze was unashamed, open, and appraising. Under his scrutiny, Tori found herself straightening her posture, jutting her breasts out, and extending one leg outward so he’d know that she was nude beneath her short robe. She felt the fire of both arousal and shame creep throughout her body, focusing a large amount of heat on her cheeks and dripping pussy.

Stunned and flabbergasted, she hemmed and hawed for a moment, rocking back and forth with uncertainty. Sucking her breath in through her teeth, grimacing, she stuttered for a few seconds, his lusty, non-threatening staring making her heart take flight. He wanted her; she knew it. There was something about him, though, that circumvented all the usual thoughts and concerns.

Tori didn’t wonder if they’d be compatible, whether he’d be good in bed, or if he wasn’t good enough for her. Her only thoughts were how to get his clothes off and how to make him hers. He checked all the boxes, and some she didn’t even know she had. His smiling, hunky person was standing right in front of her, looking all mesmerizing and dreamy. She was so enthralled that while she saw the single, long-stemmed rose in his hand, it didn’t register.

“Um, hi,” she stammered. “I’m not ready yet. Wait.”

Embarrassed beyond belief because she not only answered the door in just her robe and wasn’t ready on time but also due to her acting like a love-struck imbecile, Tori slammed the door. 

“Shit!” she swore the instant that she realized she’d just slammed the door in her date’s face.

“So sorry,” she blurted, opening the door again, smiling back at his genuinely amused, chuckling face. 

Victoria held her smile, her eyes glinting when she saw that he wasn’t put off by her erratic behavior, and deftly plucked the rose from his grasp. “Wait here, please,” she requested, closing the door slowly and gently, that time. Tori was very used to guys treating her as if she were vapid due to her attractiveness; that was the first time she’d acted the part.

To be continued…