Ella glanced at the clock. She finally had a date with the man of her dreams, but he was late. Sitting nervously on her sofa, she wondered for the hundredth time about her outfit, and should she risk running upstairs to get changed again? But what should she change into? She was so nervous she could barely sit still.
Ella was a beautiful blonde, 26 years of age, tall and slender. She was endlessly insecure about the way she looked, and she hated her flat chest and bony shoulders. She glanced nervously at the clock again and bit her lip.
Suddenly the doorbell went, making her jump. She stood up and looked at herself again in the mirror, attempting to make the best of what she thought was a bad choice of clothes. She was wearing a knee-length pleated skirt with clinging black top and high heels adding another couple of inches to her impressive height.
The man she answered the door to was also tall, taller than her, and broad with it. He was so muscular, well-defined and yet slim, with dark, styled hair, and a piercing, deep brown gaze.
Ella smiled nervously, but her edginess was almost gone. It was replaced with a fierce lust, and she had to restrain herself not just to pull him into the house and push him up against a wall.
"Peter." she breathed, and taking the hand he offered her, got into the waiting taxi.