She caught my eye immediately. Her heels alerted me to her presence in my bar before I could glance in her direction. My brain was already sending off signals of intrigue about the professionally dressed woman that slipped into the barstool a few minutes past two on a slow Monday afternoon.
Her blonde hair was up in a loose bun. Her fingers featured a French manicure, my favorite. Her false eyelashes batted beautifully as she typed away on her iphone and sipped on her glass of wine. Her dress was tight fitting but was office appropriate. Still, she knew what she was doing, as it showed off her breasts wonderfully.
She was a very beautiful woman, but I was immediately attracted to her not just because she was so good looking. The blouse, skirt, false lashes and manicured nails; business attire viewed through a lens of fetish and fantasy was one of my weaknesses. As a bartender I was privy to women dressed like this before and was unabashed to casually flirting. It was indeed one of my fetishes. I racked my brain for a question to ask that isn’t standard, plus the woman before me was also glued to her phone, and eventually answered an incoming phone call.