'Seduction' Sarah Stylee

As you know I'm a bit of a (self confessed) expert in many fields ... *

You may be new to my blog and therefore have missed some invaluable words of wisdom or, maybe you are a lazy blog reader (ahem, guilty ...) in which case, what can I say?

Your life could be SO different with just the click of a mouse ....

If you need a bit of a catch up (and I would strongly advise that you do) then this is a taste of what you may have missed:

So far I've covered dating tips for men - how not to kiss (this goes for anyone really but in particular ME because I've been there already and I didn't like it ok) - my brief foray into relationship counselling and my tact and discretion which would make me an ideal personal shopper. 

Oh, and of course my dalliance into consumer testing with particular reference to control pants parts.

There are probably more but that should be enough for you to realise that I really DO know what I'm talking about.

Disclaimer in place - lets begin ... ;-)


Ok, well, the first thing you need to know is that this was my very first seduction (and I rarely find it advisable I need to try anything twice).  In the past I've always left it up to the men to do the seducing and to be honest, that's worked pretty well up until now.

My 'victim' was of course Surfer Dude.

Understandably there's always been speculation surrounding my relationship with SD. 

We've spent a great deal of time together.  He has made his feelings for me very clear from the start.  I am very fond of him AND I've been open about the fact that there has always been a spark between us.

The general consensus has always been 'get in there girl!!!'

So, what was my problem?  Well, a brief explanation .

Apart from that fact that my track record of crashing and burning in spectacular style makes me very VERY wary of putting my heart on the line again there were a couple of other things that bothered me.

SD has always been very popular with women. 

Partly that's due to his natural friendly manner (it's impossible not to like him) and his genuine liking for women and partly it's because he has this 'pretty boy' look going on (pissing myself as I type that knowing how much he would hate for me to describe him in that way, but it's true, he has ;).

Funnily enough, although I've always appreciated SD's look he's never really been what I would consider to be my 'type'.  He's tall and lean, blond and tanned ... incredibly fit -  I know, I know,  I'm wondering why that wouldn't really be my type too ...

The truth is, I've always tended to go for men who are a little more hmmm ... left of centre shall we say ...

I've known a few of SD's girlfriends in the past, most of them have been pretty damned stunning and there have been quite a few of them (blog fodder for another day ;).  It's not so much that he was a player exactly he was just too busy having a good time and unwilling to compromise his lifestyle to settle down and fit in with convention. 

It doesn't particularly bother me that he has a past, I'd be far more worried if he hadn't!  But, did I really want to risk screwing up a friendship that means a great deal to me?  Hmmm ...

Ok, now that's out of the way - back to the seduction!

Having finally been convinced that maybe I should stop buggering about and give him a whirl, or, as was so eloquently said, stop being such an 'arse', I decided to pull out all the stops and do this thing properly!

Now I've spent a fair amount of time knocking SD back so I realised that I might need to be just  a little  .... obvious?

I considered my options:

1) invite him round and open the door stark bollock naked ...

But what if he assumed I'd just 'forgotten' to put my clothes on or something ...  (What???  it happens!).

2) invite him round and open the door wearing a seduction kit of stockings, high heels, nipple tassels (no, I don't actually HAVE any - but I could get some from somewhere or knit some or something couldn't I?  ;) and murmur 'come and get me big boy'...

What if he assumed I'd just forgotten the rest of my clothes and just always wore that kit underneath  and/or that I was drunk.
3) Invite him round and just pounce on him the moment I opened the door ...

Yep, he would definitely think I was drunk (either that or that I was trying to bite him again ....)

4)  Be honest and open with him.  Sit him down - talk to him -  tell him that despite my fears, despite my reservations that maybe he was right.

Maybe we could make it work. Maybe I could have faith just one last time.

That maybe it was time I stopped being scared, that maybe it wasn't always me that got it wrong, maybe I wasn't the jinx I'd began to think I was and maybe it WAS time to start believing in myself and allowed myself a chance for happiness ... Because I do know that he would do everything in his power to make me happy ...

Lol ...

Bollocks to THAT idea - I mean, god, who on earth would do THAT?

You almost took me seriously for a moment there didn't you??

Be honest -  you did didn't you?  ;)

Obviously  I went for option 5.

Invite him round - be subtly seductive - send out subliminal messages and remind him how totally irresistible I am by, I don't know ... twirling my hair - posing provocatively on the sofa or, or ...  something??

Yep, I could do that!

First things first - arrange a child free night - tick!

Secondly - spend four hours giving myself that 'effortless sex goddess look'.

Slight hiccough when my temperamental hair straighteners refused to heat up leaving me looking something like this!

1. 

Not a photo taken on the night in question - I was far too traumatised to be taking photos - it actually looked MUCH worse than this!

Which maybe I could possibly  have worked with if I hadn't decided to brush it - DOH!

Seriously, my hair was SO fucking big by the time I'd finished it qualified for it's own postcode and  I actually doubt I could fit a photo of it on this page!

But hey, I'm nothing if not resourceful so I pinched Miss Macs hairspray (not something I ever use myself) and proceeded to turn my head into a solid lacquered deconstructed birds nest.

Oh yes, great result!

I also managed to get it EVERYWHERE ... 

No kidding, it was in my eyes (ouch - do NOT do that!) -  in my mouth (god it tastes disgusting!), all over my clothes ...

Seriously, my eyelashes (having already had three coats of Va Va Voom extreme mascara and then getting a liberal plastering of extra hold volumising hairspray) were like bloody lethal weapons - if SD came anywhere near those mofo's he'd have shredded his face!

Having now left myself a little under and hour to perform a miracle,my nerves in tatters, I hopped back into the shower.

My hair unsurprisingly objected to this further assault and by the time I'd dried it for the second time it was practically vertical!

But, like I said, I'm resourceful ... ;)

I decided to go for the French look and have a thick plait hanging over one shoulder, which, if I do say so myself, looked pretty damned sexy!

I briefly considered donning a striped shirt, a beret, slinging a string of onions round my neck and watching an episode of 'Allo' Allo' to complete the experience but unfortunately I didn't have a striped shirt ... ;)

So I considered my wardrobe.

Now SD isn't really a leg man which is a real bugger as there is no doubt that my legs are one of my best features (and can be a huge distraction from many of the stupid things I say and do).

SD is a boob man ....

How do I know that? 

I'm not really sure ...

Anyway, I spent some time considering mine ...

They looked ok to me and I've never had any complaints -  BUT - were they what a boob man was looking for ....  THAT I didn't know (I always end up with the leg men).

Stuff it, I decided I'd just have to convert SD into a leg man and play to my strengths.

So, I was ready.

Soft lighting, seductive music, bottle of wine poured down my neck open to breath, cat litter tray emptied, and that bastard cat Bear slung out for the night and there was a knock at the door ...

FFS, he was at least 10 minutes early - SD perennially runs late and I wasn't mentally prepared yet!

So I ran away and hid in the bathroom ....

Gave myself a 30 second pep talk (mostly consisting of repeated saying fuck, fuck, FUUUCCKK!!!!) and went to answer the door.

'Did you forget the rest of your clothes?' he smiled looking down at me.

Hmmm!

'What's that god awful music' he asked, 'I thought you were child free tonight?'

'It's a bit dark in here' - flicking on a couple of light switches ...

' I thought we could watch this later if you like' - chucking down a DVD - The Raven - A thriller about a psychopath  on a brutal killing spree based on the works of Edgar Allan Poe.

Things weren't going exactly to plan here ...

I thought we could just have a glass of wine and talk I said arranging myself artistically on the sofa.

Ok said SD sitting on the OTHER fucking sofa!  What do you want to talk about?

Damn, he wasn't supposed to ask me that!

Playing for time I reached up to twirl my hair provocatively and encountered a plait.  Great, I suppose I could have swung it round my head like a bloody lasso or something.

I cast around for something to say that didn't involve me blurting out 'look, do you still fancy me or what?' (which was what was going around my head but even I could see how puerile that sounded).

SD was looking at me with some concern, I think it was something to do with the facial expressions I was pulling whilst having all these internal conversations.

'Are you ...  drunk' he said eventually.

Clearly my best option would have been to say yes.

I took a deep breath - it was now or never time!

'I didn't forget my clothes I was just trying to distract you from my boobs because I'm not sure if they are ok and I didnt have any nipple tassels and I can't knit, well, at least I CAN sort of but I can't go round corners so I can only knit scarves and even then I'm not really sure how to finish off so they dont come unravelled ....' At which point I ran out of breath.

'You can't KNIT?' SD interjected looking slightly confused.

'No!  I can't fucking knit and yes, I MIGHT have had a glass or even two of wine before you arrived but I'm NOT drunk it's just that my stupid hair straightners are fucked and I can't twirl a bloody plait can I?

By now SD was looking a bit scared.

'Okaaay', he said, is something wrong - 'you seem a little ....'  words to describe my behaviour seemed beyond him by this point

'Oh FFS' I said, let me make this simple for you!

'I am T R Y I N G to seduce you you complete tosser!'

Well put no?

SD looked completely nonplussed.  Seriously gobsmacked, totally speechless.

Then he started laughing.

BASTARD (after all my hard work too!).

Then he came over and sat beside me and, lifting my chin up (I couldn't even look him in the eye at this point) he said softly:

'Tell me honestly Sarah - just how the fuck I was ever supposed to work THAT one out? ...'

and then he kissed me ....

*This is obviously on the basis of bugger all including but not exclusively any success or lack of thereof.