I left my apartment fuming with anger. My live-in girlfriend, Lisa and I had just had another huge fight about her frivolous spending habits. We had only been living together for about six months, but already our relationship had deteriorated into a nasty series of arguments, each one worse than the one before. I was having serious doubts that she and I were going to be able to live under the same roof for much longer.
Today's fight was about an expensive new chair she had bought without even asking my opinion of it first. Money was pretty tight, but Lisa just didn't seem to understand that. It seemed like every day I came home from work to find that she'd been out shopping, buying anything and everything that struck her fancy. I worked upwards of 60 hours a week as a real estate agent trying to make ends meet, and Lisa only worked part time in a boutique. She had plenty of time to shop and blow all our money in short order.
At first, I thought she was just buying stuff to add her personal touch to the apartment, which I had lived in for two years before I ever met her. So I was patient. As the weeks went by and turned into months and her wild spending never slowed, my patience turned into resentment, then into outright anger. Lisa never offered any apology for her expensive buying sprees, instead, she merely stated that she was entitled to buy a "few things" whenever she felt like it. Of all the women in the city, I had managed to bring a spoiled brat into my life.
I left my apartment building and turned left, and just started walking aimlessly. I had to cool off and get my anger in check before I could even think about trying to talk to Lisa again. Underlying my anger was a feeling of hopelessness, a knowledge that the subject had already been talked to death. Lisa was not going to change, and I was not going to be able to accept her penchant for free spending without accountability.
It was such a shame. Things with Lisa and I had started out so great. Lisa was charming and intelligent, and she was also an undeniable beauty. She was tall and lean, with tanned skin and pliant medium-sized breasts. Her chestnut brown hair was silky and shiny, and she wore it in a stylish shoulder-length cut. She had a classically pretty face, with wide dark eyes and high cheekbones.
At first, Lisa was affectionate and a passionate lover. Our arguments over money had quickly dampened the fires, and even as beautiful as she was, I found that my desire for her was quickly slipping away. Being a healthy American male, however, I kept trying to make love to her, hoping that the early heat we shared would return.
But now, she was cold and distant to me and she showed little interest in sex no matter what I tried. The physical frustration caused by lack of sex certainly wasn't helping my state of mind any. It had been almost three weeks since we'd made love, and even then it had been mechanical and unsatisfying.
I walked on and on, oblivious to my surroundings, not seeing the people I passed on the street. My mind worked over my problems with Lisa, and the physical exertion of walking slowly caused my anger to abate with each step.
It was early evening, a warm late-Spring day. After about an hour of continuous walking, I began to get warm, and I stopped to remove the light jacket I had on. I leaned up against a parking meter to rest for a minute, when something caught my eye and engaged my complete attention.
I had stopped in front of a small flower shop, and behind the front plate glass window, a woman was busy setting up a new window display. As she reached up, stretching as high as she could to secure a pink ribbon to the display, her short dress rode up, revealing a flash of thigh and the lacy top band of a pair of tan thigh high stockings. My mind immediately took a photograph of how she looked in that brief moment, and filed it away as an unexpected, pleasant memory.
The woman's back was to me, and in addition to her shapely legs and exquisite lingerie, I could see that she was petite and shapely. She had gorgeous long, flowing auburn hair that caught the sunlight passing through the window, causing her locks to shimmer as if they were on fire. She was wearing a pale yellow short sleeved dress that appeared to have some tiny pattern on it, but from my vantage point I couldn't make out what it was. The dress was formfitting, and gave me a breathtaking view of her marvelous shapely figure. She was also wearing coffee-colored leather sandals with a medium heel.
For a scant few seconds, she stood on her tip-toes, fussing with the ribbon, exposing her creamy thighs encased in her silky stockings. Once the ribbon was fastened to her satisfaction, she moved back to her flat-footed stance. She took a step back from the display, and turned partially towards me, presenting me with her perfect profile. She was striking.
Her body seemed to come directly from one of my youthful wet dreams. Her waist was slim, her legs were long and toned in proportion to her petite size, and her breasts were full and round. Her beautiful brown-red hair was all one length, with the exception of wispy bangs that I was sure framed her face perfectly. From the one-half of her face that I could see, she had fair skin, a perfectly formed, slightly upturned nose, and full, sensuous lips.
She smiled, expressing her satisfaction at the look of the display, and I could see a tiny dimple in the one cheek that was visible to me. In the mere few seconds that I stood there watching, I was awestruck with her loveliness. For what seemed like the first time in so long, my mind was peaceful, devoid of all the arguments I'd had with Lisa. Then, suddenly things got even better.
The beautiful woman in the window glanced outside, and saw me watching her. She smiled at me unselfconsciously, and in a contrived gesture she grasped the hem of her dress and slowly pulled it back down to its proper length. Her eyes met mine through the window, and I could feel the peculiar sensation of the distance between us closing. The expression on her face was both mischievous and pleased, and at that moment I knew that she knew I had been watching her, and she knew that I had seen something that I had enjoyed immensely. Her smile seemed to be an invitation, full of some kind of unspoken promise.
The woman stepped out of the window display area, and with a backward glance and another smile, she disappeared from my sight. For a long minute, I stood frozen in place, trying to decide what, if anything, I should do next. I quickly decided that I had to go in the flower shop and see her up close, maybe even talk to her.
I walked toward the shop, and my eyes were drawn upwards toward the sign proclaiming the name of the store...in a bold red script was the name, "Erica's Bloomers." Very cute, I thought as I opened the door and entered the shop. I was immediately assaulted by the scents of a variety of flowers. I could pick out rose, gardenia, and mums, but there were many others that I couldn't identify in the odiferous melee.
At the moment, the woman wasn't in sight and I appeared to be the only other person in the shop. I made a slow circuit of the store, looking around, waiting for the woman to reappear. In a few seconds, she did. She walked out of an adjoining room at the rear of the shop, carrying a huge, bright flower arrangement.
She saw me and smiled, and in a sweet voice, she said, "I'll be right with you, sir."
She carried the flower arrangement to one of the large refrigerated cases and placed it inside. She then turned to me and said, "How can I help you?" The phrase sounded suggestive, or at least that's how I wanted it to sound.
Up close, the woman was even more attractive. I could now see that her pale yellow dress had tiny pink roses embroidered on it. The dress was quite tight, and I couldn't help but to drop my eyes from her pretty face to her ample breasts. My breath caught in my throat as I imagined what she would look like minus the dress.
I pulled my gaze back up to her face, slightly embarrassed at my shameless staring at her body. She merely smiled placidly at me. Apparently she didn't mind being ogled by strange men. My mind flashed back to when I saw her through the window, and I briefly wondered if the little show she gave me was completely intentional.
Her eyes were the most amazing shade of green. A man could get lost in a pair of eyes like that. Her gaze was so piercing, I felt like she could look past my exterior and actually see what was going on in my mind. Hypnotic eyes, that's what they were.
I realized with a start that I hadn't yet answered her. "I saw you in the window, and suddenly I was inspired to buy some flowers," I said with a grin.
Her smile broadened, and I could see that she had an absolutely adorable dimple in each cheek. "Well, I'll accept that as a compliment. What kind of flowers would you like? We have all kinds."
"Um, well, I really don't know," I stammered.
