Lust at first sight

Jason Duck

I see her at the bar, long blonde hair, full figure and tits you can get lost in.  She’s dressed in tight leather skirt that rides high above tanned, toned legs.  Tight black top with ‘peek a boo’ hole in front, showing off a generous amount of cleavage.

My sort of girl.

To be honest I’m not that fussed I’ve had plenty of women in my time, all different shapes, sizes, plain, beautiful and ugly.  It doesn’t matter does it? You don’t look at the mantle piece when you’re stoking the fire.

I’m in me local; ‘The Eastbrook,’ I’ve never seen this bird in here before.  I stroll across the pub, looking like I own the gaff and order meself a pint of Stella.  I pretend not to notice her, all cool like.  Picking up me beer I go to me favourite table in the corner.  From this seat with me back to the panelled wall I can see any trouble coming and no fucker can jump me from behind.  I take a sip of me pint and look around.  Fairly quiet for a Saturday night but it’s still early.  The DJ, a fat middle aged guy with dodgy wig is still setting up.

I look at the girl again.  She seems to be in her early thirties but the amount of makeup she’s got on, like Coco the fucking Clown, she could be anywhere between twenty and forty if I’m honest.  She’s sitting on one of the tall stools that lines the bar, holding a glass of white wine between slim, red nailed fingers.  I feel a rush of blood to me loins as I imagine where she could be placing those fingers later, putting them to better use. I look on and take another sip of me Stella as a young buck comes up to her and tries his luck.  She smiles sweetly shaking her head and gets out her phone.  Getting the message the youngster scurries off.   I smile to meself, obviously not her kind.  But I’m sure I am.  However I’m not ready to make my move yet.