She was alone in a new city full of exciting possibilities and had dressed appropriately in a form-fitting white satin knee-length dress with spaghetti straps. She was five foot five, small, yet devastatingly curvy, 8G firm natural breasts, full hips and ass, shapely legs, long platinum blonde hair and milky pale skin. She was beautiful and she knew it, she played up on it, affected shyness to manipulate and control. She had big blue eyes that could make men and women do anything she wanted. And she intended to use that skill tonight. She slipped into strappy stilettos and put a little gloss on her large lips - no lipstick tonight, she wanted her lips to look wet, suggestive, fuckable. It was a warm night and she was not wearing panties, her freshly waxed cunt enjoying the silky caress of her dress as she caught the hotel elevator down to the lobby and walked outside into the night.
She caught a taxi to a bar that looked sleazy enough and entered, ordering a Pellegrino and lime, taking some stuff to sharpen her mind but not to make her dumb or dopey and eyed the talent. She was picky, she only liked tall and well-built men and men who were arrogant, smart and well-dressed. The short, the skinny and the ones in t-shirts and flip-flops were eliminated and she sighed, leaning against the timber bar and stirring her drink with her straw. They all stared hungrily at her and she sipped her drink, used to the attention and bored. She wouldn't invest too heavily in this place, she would move on if nothing caught her eye soon - maybe go someplace more upmarket. However, suddenly, there was a disturbance at the door and she saw a tall man with an entourage, he was huge, all shoulders, shaved head and she realised he was the UFC heavyweight champion. She recalls his last fights, his dominance, his fast finishes and rippling thick muscle and wetness hit her pussy like a thunderbolt. She had to have him.
He was well-educated, American and was in the city for an exhibition fight. His face was square-jawed, wide and his eyes intense, black and framed by thick brows. He was undeniably an Alpha Male, worthy of her lust and the type to grab a beauty like her by the hair and drag her back to his cave to fuck her senseless. She shifted on her feet, moisture trickling down her inner thighs and her arousal becoming almost uncomfortable. She had to control herself and bag the prize.
Their eyes met across the room and he held her gaze. Tapping into her own arrogance, she waggled her finger at him and he obeyed, leaving his entourage to walk over. She smiled. She loved American men, they found her so charming. "Hello, champ," she said, placing her hand on his muscular forearm and watched him take his time to drink in how tight her dress was and how little it left to the imagination. "I'm glad you came in. I was getting bored and I was just about to leave."
His breath caught in his throat. She could smell his Chanel aftershave mingling with his amazing masculine scent and visualised his gorgeous body underneath his well-tailored Armani suit. He put his other hand on her hip and she felt his warmth through the thin satin. "How about we leave together? I have a Lamborghini. We can have our own party."