Click the link below the picture
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Recently, a friend of mine who is newly divorced and dating for the first time asked me to help her work on her flirtation skills.
“First, you have to get the gaze right,” I told her. “Not stalker heavy but enough so they notice.”
“Like this?” She glowered at me, and I tried to stifle a laugh.
“More like this,” I said, demonstrating.
When I was a kid, my mother taught me how to soften my gaze when watching birds so they wouldn’t feel the weight of my attention. This kind of look is just the opposite — a concentrated gaze that lands like a finger, tapping, casting the line of desire until it catches and tugs.
I looked at her, and something activated in me, responding to a set of clues telling me how she wants to be seen. “Look intently,” I told her, “but not for too long, just graze them with it.”
“Whoa,” she said, “careful where you point that!” She looked at me in wonder, and I felt both proud and embarrassed. “Where did you learn to do that?”
I think of myself as someone who has always known how to do this — an intuitive seducer — but my friend’s question invited me to reconsider the origins of the impulse.
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Antoine Cossé
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Click the link below for article:
https://www.nytimes.com
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James' World 2 
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