[QUOTE=Cat Fight]
Purpose? Owning breasts, not looking good in boat neck tops and being a few inches shorter than most men… is that a purpose?
I find this fury over flirting a bit disheartening. It just reeks of jealousy and bitterness. I don’t want to live in a world without a little charm, one where I have to worry about all the men I might be leaving disappointed or angry 'cause I wore a nice outfit (figuring out what each of them finds attractive, of course. If I’m in nice shoes, it’s for the foot fetishists. If it’s tight pants, it’s for the ass men), acted friendly, maybe even had a drink, then ended the day somewhere other than on their dick. I like flirting. With women, even. Though I’ve never had any of them call me a manipulative bitch for not screwing them.
[/QUOTE]
The difference is how it is done. Presentation means a lot.
I’m going to set the wayback machine to 1986. I was unattached, stationed in OK. I’d go to a bar in town. Across the bar I’d spot a woman that I found attractive and it appears that she is single (she’s not talking with anyone, no ring on her finger). She’s wearing a blouse that is cut so low that I can see the fringe on her bra. Her jeans look painted on and are also slung low enough to expose ass cleavage.
I ask her if the stool next to her is open, she says yes. We introduce ourselves and make small talk about the band and the bar. I do my damndest to maintain eye contact and not dip my eyes down (sorry ladies, but breasts exert a very strong gravitational pull that overcomes ocular muscles). I offer to buy her a drink because that is the polite thing to do. She accepts.
I ask her to dance. It is a fast song so there is no implication that I want to cop a cheap feel. I’m no Fred Astaire but I also don’t look like the villagers should be chasing me with torches and pitchforks. The song ends and a slow song starts. I ask her if she wants to stay on the floor or head back to the bar.
Here is where the gears in a man’s mind start churning into overdrive, trying to figure out intentions. If she says she wants to go back to the bar, I ask her if she’d like another drink;
a. if she says no, then thank her for the dance, tell her it was nice meeting her and move on.
b. If she says yes, then she apparently wants me to stick around for at least a little bit longer. It’s not great but I might get a phone number if she is willing to put up with me for a while. If she starts leaning in closer to me and touching me, I’m probably going to get more than a phone number.
If, however, she says she wants to slow dance then:
a. she can maintain a little space between the two of us (more of a waltz then anything else) and it is just her way of being polite. Nothing further is going to happen, so enjoy the dance, thank her and move on.
b. She moves in close to me, puts her head on my chest, her arms around me. She’s attracted to me. It might not go any further tonight but I am doing good. Enjoy the softness of her body, the smell of her hair, hope that my palms don’t sweat and pray to all the gods above that she can’t feel the raging hard-on that she has given me.
Women hold all the cards. They are the only ones who know if he’s going to get lucky with her tonight.
As I’ve said, flirting implies that something further might happen. I’ve seen women dressed in the most provocative, skin tight outfits, wearing their come-fuck-me spiked heels, yet they give off the “don’t even think about talking to me, you worthless worm” vibe. Great to look at but if you even say, “Hi,” you will slink away missing a testicle, sometimes literally. Other women can be dressed in a sloppy t-shirt, dirty jeans, steel toe boots and give off the vibe, “I’m going to ride you like a rodeo star and put you away broken and wet.”