I fell in lust the moment I saw her. Her skin was smooth and golden. She was as tall as she was stunning. And even as she sat behind a glass window that balmy summer afternoon, I noticed her styled visage were characteristic of an elite pedigree mere mortals like me only read about in the society pages.
She was oblivious to the many eyes that caressed her form with their lingering stares. Yet in the subtle way the tiny, tasteful Swarovski crystals that adorned her perfectly-shaped body reflected the afternoon sun, I knew she yearned to be wanted.
In a moment of pure abandon, I approached her. I wanted her more than anything. The idea of undressing and feeling her against my skin filled me with anxious excitement. My heart beat faster until it felt like a vibrating motor under chest, as I stood in the same room as this resplendent elegance.
I walked to the counter and spoke with nervous urgency, “Miss, do you have THAT stiletto in a size eight?”