Brogan Private Detective

She walked

She walked into the room like a lizard on your resort ceiling in the middle of the night, haltingly smooth, with just the slightest air of what was that, shall I run.

It was a sight to see, and everyone did, you couldn’t help it. Silly shoes, they tend to do that, they make you look, like the click of a steel tipped stiletto on a metal floor, or the slap of a clowns over sized 32s.

It was all in the stamp of the heel, the whack, whack of the wide 6 inch heel as it hit the cement floor like a Russian on parade, but with just an air of being out of step to make you think that this time was only a practice run.

Because of the noise you only had the one choice and that was to start from the ground and work your way up, the shoes, while practical made an impression, that was of someone on a budget but who liked their shoes as well, you couldn’t tell who made them, but you wanted to know who made them, if only to smash them in the face with a sledge hammer, or made to buy them, depends on how you feel about shoes.

The shoes came, as they often do when making noise, attached to a pair of legs, and what lets, the calves looked like they had been milk fed since birth, smooth and silky, with a matching curve and slenderness that could only be the result of little use, yet often in touch with the ground, and they worked their way up past an uninteresting set of knees, not knobbly but practical, to a set of thighs.

 Now, a warning should be issued at this point, because those thighs, well, they held everything together, and being barely covered by the tight fitting skirt, the entire package, which ended at the thighs, well, it, if you found yourself in a lost legs competition, this would be the set that you would keep, this would be the set that you would want.

Now, as mentioned the skirt, it was tight, and gave the impression of being painted on, but not quite, it was attached to the skin and left you with very little to think of but also hid what it should do, and giving you only really a hit of the buttocks, small and firm, but possible just a little jiggle, the merest possibility of imperfection in the tightness of the collection of body parts, but this impression can really only come from the package as yet described, because so far perfection can only make one thing of the possibility of something that must be wrong, now we move on.

The hips and waist, the bumps and the rounds and the glorious way that the blouse was being worn as open as possible yet nothing displayed, it was everything, as as this was really only a view from the side, have I explained that, whe was walking past me, so I can only describe from the side, but it all falls into place, you have no real idea of side or shape of the breasts but you have the impression that they that are not displayed would have the firmness of a peach and the roundness of a melon, a cantaloupe, not watermelon.

 Joining in at this point, the hair, at a length that the breasts and hair could mingle but not entirely interact, but they both knew of each others existence and I am sure that they had interacted once or twice when the time was right.

All this was a topped by and almond/oval but not round smooth skinned Asian featured, face that, again only in profile, gave the impression of symmetrical beauty, eye brows that looked like they have never needed a days work, nor an pencil tip, and a coloring style.

This was show she walked through my life, only to get a double double and a french cruller.

 

 

 

 

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