I want to make love to your voice!

[GigaPanda]

The actress, Melanie Paxson, she's starred in a few commercials, like a Progressive commercial and a few others, and I just thought to myself; "That is such a cute voice! I would totally make love to her just from hearing her speak!"

It's much like hearing a foreign accent I guess.
Melanie Paxson just has such a cute voice, it makes me want her so much!

 

[SquiresBoy]

It's much like hearing a foreign accent I guess.
Melanie Paxson just has such a cute voice, it makes me want her so much!

I've always found her adorable! It makes me want to do nasty things with her, just to hear her tell me to keep going. "Fuck me harder, bear sheriff! Yes!"

Okay, I wouldn't make her call me bear sheriff. But...

 

[GigaPanda]

lol! bear sheriff...hmm.. nice!

Oh yes, nasty things indeed. I would definitely have her talk dirty to me too!

 

[SquiresBoy]

lol! bear sheriff...hmm.. nice!
Oh yes, nasty things indeed. I would definitely have her talk dirty to me too!

I always like her, but I prefer when she wears glasses. There was a very short-lived sitcom on... NBC, I think, where she played the daughter of the main characters. I think that's when my crush began (it's certainly where I learned her name).

 

[LindsayRae]

Two words.

Sully Erna.

 

[boy]

A Voice of My Own

The actress, Melanie Paxson, she's starred in a few commercials, like a Progressive commercial and a few others, and I just thought to myself; "That is such a cute voice! I would totally make love to her just from hearing her speak!"

It's much like hearing a foreign accent I guess.
Melanie Paxson just has such a cute voice, it makes me want her so much!

Can't say I know who you are refering to--out of the loop I am. But, your post made me think of a poemish thing I put up about Norah Jones a few days ago. When I wrote I was 'hearing' it in kind of a Jack Handey voice. Sorta. Here 'tis:


A Voice of My Own

Late last night my woman and I got into a game of “which famous person would you most like to sleep with?”, and naturally I said Katherine Hepburn. I guess it must have stung a little, because she quickly (and just a little too gleefully I thought), started pointing out the various logistical problems I was letting myself in for, as Katherine has been a corpse for some time now. But honestly, I wasn’t really as worried as you might think, because I had lied, secretly that is; you know, just to throw her off the scent.

The truth, which I hereby refuse to deny any longer—(except when my woman is around of course, or anyone who knows us, like that one Lithuanian guy), is that I would gladly eat a plate of hair with a side of dirt for even a chance to have a fling with just the voice of Norah Jones (and I don’t even really like dirt.) For a fact, that entire woman is one astounding creature; but I’m not fooling anyone: no way could I handle the complete package without suffering some kind or another of debilitating emotional / brain overload disorder. And besides, I’m thinkin’ hey, why push my luck right?

And in the fall, when the trees grow drowsy, and the world begins to once again put itself to bed, we’d devote four to six afternoons a month (depending on our schedules, and the weather, and stuff like that), to long sauntering, explorations of one-another; you know, down along the River-Walk. And we would tell each other secrets—and LAUGH??—oh, how we would laugh! And all the little children would taunt, and throw soda cans and duck food at me, because of course nobody would be able to hear her intoxicating tones but me, so they would think I was just another crazy old fart, walking around whispering and giggling to himself.

But I wouldn't care, because really, when you’re heart is drenched in the smoldering quiet of Norah’s voice, does anything else matter? Exactly.