She had on these flat-soled casual shoes, so very cute, but out of place in this glamorous setting. I wondered if anyone else noticed she had them on. More likely they just noticed how she was dressed. With all the bare-shouldered women with their long glittery dresses and high luscious cleavage out on display, it felt as though the girl in the worn shoes was inappropriate although I could not keep my eyes from the smooth pampered skin and smooth shiny perfect curls of the women around me that was so erotic. My dress was simple, lacey vintage, not low cut but very short showing off my long legs. I tucked my feet under my chair. I loved my heels, with their heavy binding around the foot balanced by the delicate shape they created with my legs. A woman whose pearls ran down her back into the valley her shoulder-blades made turned from the stage to the man she was with. I instinctively scowled a bit and broke my stare from her.
My head turned again to under the room across from me where the girl with the shoes was tapping her foot, impatience maybe? I looked up her slim jeans, to the chair and to her loose-fitting tee that seemed barely just opaque enough. Too bad, I thought, I could tell her when she breathed in and out that her breasts were the perfect size, round and soft..I looked up to her face and saw with surprise that she was staring back at me. I was taken aback, frozen. she smiled, stood up and walked to the door at the back corner of the room. I was confused, then saw it was the entrance to the hall where the restroom was, and I saw her hand linger for a second on the frame of the door before she disappeared inside, like she was signaling me. My heart beat fast, did anyone else notice that? is this really happening?
