Seductive First Sentences

I have a bunch from works-in-progress:

Like so many office fuck-ups, it all began with a coffee emergency.
(The Office Fuck-Up)

Don’t be a dirty old man! I told myself. You’re already going to be the strange one. So don’t be a dirty old man!
(Dirty Old Man: A Love Story)

I made my mind up about the room the instant I saw the landlady.
(My Life With Mrs Welch)
 
I looked through my submissions so far and unfortunately none of the initial sentences strike me as particularly punchy. It's probably got something to do with my overly verbose style.

What they do well, I believe, is establish the setting or a character right off the bat.

Under the sheets in their king-size bed, Diane Hartman lay in blissful contentment.
With a Little Help from Her Son

Candy was feeling really good today. Her outfit was cute and sexy, and her makeup game was totally on point.
Gym Girl, Interrupted

It was eight inches erect, going from base to tip.
The Perks of Being a Futanari

She opened the metal grate and entered the pen, a large bag of dry food slung over her shoulder.
Debra's in for a Pound (Heroism/Oggbashan Memorial submission; will be up on 7/14)

With careful deliberation and a touch of pedantry, she arranged the stack of checkbooks in the cubbyhole of her desk.
Dream to Remember, submitted just now
 
From Waking up in Patadise:

Moaning softly, as the man nestled behind me gently slipped his cock back into my ass isn't exactly how I thought I'd wake up on my first morning in Paradise, but I wasn't complaining.
 
"Well, it seems I've been invited to a strip club," answered Phil when his wife asked how his day had been.
from Clementine's Bloomers

After the doorbell rang fairly late on Halloween night, Sharon quickly dried her tears and blew her nose before opening the door.
from Half Halloween

(Not a single sentence, I know.)
I hate Miles Bonn. I detest him and everything he stands for. He makes my skin crawl whenever he's in the same room with me and when he's close, sometimes I have to back away. But I also want to fuck him silly. I want to come as he yodels in my valley, I want to cry to the heavens as he has his way with me and I want to ride him like there's no tomorrow.
from I Hate Miles Bonn

I'm a guy you might see around your neighborhood every month, a guy you forget about until next month, but I don't forget you or your house or your dog or your wife. from Mrs. Jones Meter Reader

"Oooo. Girl, you've got one fine apple booty!"
from The Lone Ranger and the Ho
 
Just ran across this fabulous first line from a tremendous mainstream novel, The Dog of the South by Charles Portis:

My wife Norma had just run off with Guy Dupree and I was waiting around for the credit card billing to come in so I could see where they had gone.
 
From Dolls -- the story went down hill from there quickly, but I am writing a novel about Lily and Sara (introduced later in the story)

"My name is Lily. I am a professional voyeur."

It's the line I usually use to introduce myself. I love the reactions, the mouths left hanging open, ready to respond, when they fully process what I just said. The follow-on conversations are infinitely better than the typical introductory chitchat. It has even gotten me more than one invitation to an orgy.
 
Seductive Prose

I’m an eclectic poet.
I find rhythm in the rustle of leaves.
Beats pulse in the whisper of the wind.
Music fuels my soul.
Nature captivates my senses.
Sensuality lives in every living thing.
Beauty hides in the simplest moments.
Each word I write ignites desire.
I invite you to feel.
To connect.
To engage.
 
Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms, she was always Lolita.

Of course, this is the opening of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov
 
I want the legs. That was the first thing that came into my head. The legs were the legs of a twenty-year-old Vegas showgirl, a hundred feet long and with just enough curve and give and promise. Sure, there was no hiding the slightly worn hands or the beginning tugs of skin framing the bones in her face. But the legs, they lasted, I tell you. They endured. Two decades her junior, my skinny matchsticks were no competition.

Megan Abbott The Queenpin (2007)
 
I don't have a lot of those, most of my beginnings are quite mundane. But I'm rather proud of this one, from A Dream That I Can Call My Own:
It wasn't the arguments or the screaming. It wasn't the angry words or the spiteful statements. It wasn't the pleading and the crying, the begging. It was the sound of the door slamming in my face. That explosive sound of absolute finality. The sound of a two month long constant cacophony of all those other things ending abruptly.
 
OIC, I mean, Oh, I see, our work. Um, I'd have to think about that for a long time and review my openings before I suggested anything I wrote.
 
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