The Encounter

As the blonde wearing six-inch heels enters the bar, she seems so conscious of being watched and so committed to not noticing that she appears almost angry, like a model on a runway. Her leather mini clings to her hips, tight as a rubber. Sheer stockings cover long legs—legs that beg to be wrapped around a neck.

John closes his eyes and draws in a breath, savoring the moment.

What a knockout. Here’s a woman any man should be proud to display. Eye candy with whom he’ll score. A real blow-and-go he’ll never forget.

She scans the room, sweeping a bored gaze over everyone. Many men return her stare, some smile, perhaps hoping to engage her. But she dismisses them one by one, looking away, telling them, in essence, to get lost. She turns and glances at John.

-cont.

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