It was late and I was tired, but having just arrived from Jakarta after a long and dreary flight, I needed some change of scene before turning in.
The hotel bar was nearly empty. Even in a city like this one, full of exotic people brimming with sensual attraction in their sleek and colorful fashionista dominated culture... even here, things closed down by 4:30 AM. Except for me, that is... and her.
She never shifted her pose, never looked my way, never spoke a word, never did anything other than blow slowly rising smoke rings and sip her drink. She looked as though she was a thousand miles away and still climbing. She looked as though her world was sufficient unto itself.
Tired and bored when I had come into the bar, now I was fascinated; though I made every effort to keep from showing it. Still, it was more than clear, this was a woman who knew she'd be noticed wherever she went. She was familiar with being seen, noticed... even watched. She appeared to be of both Asian and Western European descent, with perhaps a touch of Native American as well. Slender, clearly very fit but without that overdone muscularity that so many girls work toward in the gym. About twenty-six I would guess.
Her body moved with a kind of efficiency I had rarely seen; almost as though each cell knew its function in any movement she desired to make, and responded perfectly; neither more nor less than needed. This resulted in a graceful, almost stylized presentation. Only once did she falter... or was it... more likely... purposeful.
I enjoyed her one enjoys a work of art. Beauty, grace, and a clear and heavy eroticism dwelled within and oozed out of her. My reaction was surprisingly non-sexual. A slap in the face and a beer would, no doubt, have awakened that part of me, no doubt. No man could see this woman and have no sexual thoughts at all. But mine were muted in the lazy haze of fatigue I felt, the slow movement of the ceiling fan, the quiet work of the girl behind the bar, as this silent self contained woman danced her dance.
