It was the first real day of springtime. And it seemed to have been yet another long, cold winter. Whatever happened to global warming? It never seemed to have penetrated my corner of Ohio! But today, the sun shone out of a flawless blue sky. Fluffy white cumulus clouds floated past on the breeze and the temperature was actually warm. The air felt fresh and clean and people's spirits seemed to have lifted now that winter was in the rear view mirror. Even my grumpy old colleague, Margi, managed to raise a smile. And that is a rare occurrence I can tell you!
I folded my arms and looked out the window at the passers-by strolling along the sidewalk. And then I saw her. No, not grumpy Margi but a lovely young woman. She was walking along evidently enjoying the day as much as I. She was smiling and looked happy. The woman was mid to late twenties, certainly no teen but no older than thirty. And she was beautiful especially as she was dressed for the season. She wore a floral printed, dark green short-sleeved dress, calf-length. It really suited her hourglass figure. She was average height. Starting at the top she had dark brown hair, held back by a couple of clips, which fell down to her shoulders. A slightly old-fashioned style which reminded me of a 1940s poster but it went well with her dress.
Her face was pretty, quite pale after the winter's gloom and lack of light but red lipstick made a splash of color. Her eyebrows were arched, I remember. Looking down I took in her toned arms, bare to the breeze, also a milky white. I was so pleased that she hadn't disfigured her skin with tattoos but left herself unadorned although a gold watch strap sat delicately on her wrist. Looking over I glanced -- well more than glanced -- at her boobs. Her dress was quite low cut revealing much of the swell of her breasts. A white bra strap peeped out at her shoulder. Her breasts were full, nicely shaped bouncing delightfully as she walked. I'm no expert on breast size but I guessed probably a D or E cup or something. Real knockouts! Her deep cleavage was spectacular, especially as it was the first I'd seen for months after that cold, damp winter. Those joggling tits absolutely made her figure.
My eyes drifted down. A nicely cinched in waist gave her an hourglass figure and her childbearing hips swelled out so well. But what made her such a delight to watch was where her green dress ended and where her calves began. Like her arms her calves were toned, fine tuned as if they had been turned out by a master craftsman on a lathe. I guessed she cycled or walked a lot. Again, like her arms, they were pale white, after being starved of sunshine for so long, but so beautiful. Also, no tattoos marred their beauty. Nice ankles, maybe slightly thick, while her feet were in comfortable sandals with her red-painted toenails on show. I watched as her pale-skinned calves approached and the hem of her skirt swished to and fro. I noticed that her calves were smoothly shaved, bare to the milder air, and so worth watching as she walked past my store window. I wondered if that was all she'd shaved -- if she'd removed all her winter fuzz while she had the razor out.
As she walked past my window I imagined her in the shower earlier that morning. She would have dropped her bathrobe and stood there completely naked waiting for the water to heat up. Then she would have stepped into the shower itself. I fantasized about her luxuriating under the spray for a moment, allowing the hot water to cascade over her body, wetting her hair, the water cascading down her body, warming and wetting her winter-pale skin. She would have turned her face up towards the shower head, closing her eyes against the hot water and enjoying having a few minutes to herself.
