The clacking sound of her high heels echoed in the parking lot as she made her way to the entrance of The Rocker’s Pit; a wretched biker bar on the wrong side of town. As she walked on the freshly wet pavement, drunk passerby whistled and stared. On that stormy Wednesday night, she had chosen a pair of fierce Gladiator sandals that laced up her leg to end just before her knees, exposing her tanned thighs and leading up to a form fitting satin red dress. The strapless dress hung perfectly on her breasts and defined her buttocks so flawlessly as though finely cut like a diamond. Her golden blond hair fell long and wavy over her shoulders, back and part of her face, flaunting her luscious heart-shaped lips and almond shaped eyes.
She was standing in front of the bar and could hear the muffled music behind the doors as she reapplied red lipstick. The large wooden doors opened and the loud bass came washing over her. The vibration coursed through her body as she slowly walked into the poorly lit bar. The music was booming with a slow rhythm and for a moment, it seemed like all eyes were on her. She sensually walked to an available seat at the bar beside a quiet and thin looking man who drank cheap beer and scribbled on napkins. She ordered a shot of whiskey and scanned the room for her next prey.