by Veronica Alderson
Two people sitting in a bar. “Hey kid,” he said, “did you know women are like a bowl of mixed nuts, you can’t have just one.” The man sitting next to me commented as I sat stunned and scrutinized his shaggy blonde hair which curled around his ears and a lock of gold draped across his forehead as he leaned into his drink, he cocked a brow, a heated glance held my gaze for a nanosecond, he smirked, his full lips pressed into a seam, his head shook back and forth and the golden highlights shimmied in the dimly lit smoky bar. “No," I answered, “mixed drinks.” I heard and felt my husky voice reverberate in my throat while I swirled my fingertips in the salty grit coating the mixture of nuts, flicking an almond across the top, and finally out of the bowl hitting his glass, wiped my fingertips with the bar napkin. I rose from my stool and slowly dragged my sunglasses away from my face and flung my hat off, flounced my hands through my hair, bringing my long brunette tresses forward, purposely laying them to hit the tops of my breasts as I relished his astonished gaze, my heavy woolen coat slid off my shoulders and I smoothed my hands down the silky bodice of my blouse making sure to emphasize the fullness of my flesh and then I caught his stupefied eyes, my lips quivered in the corners of my mouth as I spoke, “I said mixed drinks because that’s my drink in your hand and by the way I’M A WOMAN!”
6S - C3
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