I noticed as I walk into the bar there are a group of men, boys actually, swarming around a lady in red at the bar. It is not hard to notice the anger in her eyes. It is quite clear she is not here to meet a stranger.
I notice when there is not anger there is pain in her eyes. Why do beautiful people come to a bar, a public place, to find solace in alcohol. A normal looking person will purchase a bottle and take it to their apartment to suffer in silence. Beautiful people must show their pain in public.
As I stare into her eyes I notice something else; there is a glimpse of fear and desire.
I sit several stools away from her at the bar to observe her. Her red dress flatters her figure. She has a long arching back that glides into a beautiful round bottom. Below her short red skirt I notice a pair of long beautiful legs stretching into a beautiful pair of black heels. Her breasts are small but round and firm. Her face is sculpted as if she were a model for a cosmetic firm.
I know she is not my type of woman but something about her intrigues me. I am a powerful mistress so I know no fear. I pick up my drink and move onto the stool next to her. I must meet her.