She was old enough to know better, but young enough to pass herself off as naive. She wasn't slim, not overweight, but voluptuous and curvy. She was a chameleon, dressing to deceive her prey.
Dressed down, she looked the part of the everyday housewife. In khaki shorts and her hair in a ponytail, she looked like a soccer mom. In a pair of cutoff jeans way too short and a skin tight tube top, she looked like a slut. A willing one. This was the part she loved to play. It was the one that paid the bills.
She stood on the sidewalk outside of the repair shop. The traffic was nonexistent, the shop devoid of customers. The owner, an older man, glanced at her from time to time, wondering what she was up to. She looked at him, fanning herself to keep cool. She made her way to the man and introduced herself.
"Hi, my name is Stacey. It sure is a hot one today!" She crooked her head a little and smiled. The man smiled back at her.
"Sure is."
"You wouldn't happen to have a drink machine here, would you? I sure could use something to cool off with." The man smiled again and gestured toward the office.
"In there."
She smiled again.
"Thanks."
She pulled at her tube top, pretending to try to cover her cleavage. In the process, the bottom of her top rode up and exposed half of a nipple. She felt it, knew it had happened. But, that was what she wanted. Her pussy was already getting wet. The game was on. She felt his eyes on her as she turned and went to the machine. She made a show of bending over to retrieve her drink. She continued the show as she turned around and put the cold drink against her neck, closing her eyes and sighing at the relief that the cool can provided. She opened her eyes and looked directly at him. He was staring. She walked back out to the shop.
"What's your name, mister?"
He stared at her exposed nipple. She stared back.
"Walt."