She crossed her legs, and I almost crossed my eyes.

Her gams were perfect — long, lean and adorned with black fishnets that seemed to be studded with shards of diamonds. Was that glitter on her tights? The lights in the room picked up the twinkling sparks dancing on her thighs, but it was the boots she was wearing that had me standing up straighter. I imagined stroking those glossy black boots of hers while we made love, her legs over my shoulders so I could turn my head to the side and breathe in the deeply erotic aroma of well-tanned leather.

“Can I help you?” she asked sharply, and I realized I’d been staring, perhaps even drooling.

I was actually supposed to be helping her. I was working the bar, after all, and she was a paying customer. How could I let her know every time she... Read More