She Wants to be Seduced It was our third time- the charm, they say- of trying to be in love. The first, our timing was off; the second was complicated, but suffice to say I never thought I’d get into a fight with a stranger in my own Bronco. That night I brought pizza and vodka- I thought I was being subtle. She’d put on weight since the last time I’d seen her naked; she reminded me of my pores, and my teeth, which I suppose put us even. She drank too much, and I didn’t drink enough. She changed into something I could have seen through if given a chance, but she wrapped up in a blanket. She was getting sleepy, but complained there was only one thing that could help her sleep. I don’t know why, but I’m just not that easy. I gave her a massage until my fingers, hands and wrists were sore. She was relaxed, on the brink of sleep, murmuring that there was still something she needed. I thought about kissing her- if she’d kissed me I’d have been gone. But she didn’t. She was laying in bed in lingerie without making it sexy. She wants to be seduced, but so do I.