She didn’t see the men in front of her who were waiting.
They didn’t matter yet, or that was that she let them believe.
The flow of her walk exuded a sensuality that set the tone for the night,
for when they looked at her they saw not a dancer
but a goddess of her own body, her own being.
And they were weak as soon as they rest their eyes upon her,
she had control,
and she was completely clothed
.....…..almost.
She was of East Indian decent, about 5’ 4”,
her make-up already on but for the night it was simple:
dark mascara around her eyes,
and lipstick which was the colour of a rosé wine.
On her face she wore no smile, no emotion for that matter.
Her hair was shoulder length, black with hints of brown.
The fragrance of her perfume was strong, but enchanting,
following her and dancing around her like a spirit from her body,
enticing,
seductive,
perfect.
What she wore when she came in was all black to her brown complexion.
A loose t-shirt that hung from one shoulder and she wore no bra,
for I could have seen the form of her nipples in the way it rested upon her chest.
Her arms were strong, yet her hands seemed gentle in the way she held her handbag.
Moving down her torso, I could see the tone of her muscles,
no fat on her tummy and when she turned around her top was short,
revealing two dimples on her lower back.
She wore black leggings which seemed to reflect the light around
with ever step she made.
All the muscles of her thighs,
her buttocks,
her calves were also very well toned,
as good as any dancers',
smooth graceful curves.
The slippers on her feet were also black, and her toes were polished with the same cream pink cutex I saw on her hands.
All of this I saw, and I observed.
Never had I seen a woman like this,
but she had so many parts of ones that I’d known before.
The goddess of her temple,
divine and human,
yet, I knew she had a past, all of us do.
And I was curious to know,
but I could not take the risk to pursue
……..or could I?
