She looked perfect. Her hair was raven black and stylish cut to frame her face. Her make-up could have been applied by an expert beautician and her nails were manicured beautifully.
She wore a white blouse, just see-through, with a plunge front neckline, 3 buttons between her cleavage and her waist ensuring it stayed in place. The sleeves puffed at the double-buttoned cuffs to accentuate its femininity.
The pencil-line black skirt had a tiny zip at the back and a hem which finished two inches above the knee. It was expensively lined, removing the need for an underskirt.
Her legs went on forever and were perfectly and evenly tanned, thus they were bare. Under her skirt the white lacy panties matched the under-wired half-cup bra, which strained very slightly to retain its 36c occupants.
She stood 5'10" tall in her 5" heel black patent pumps and her 36c-28-36 figure was as guaranteed to turn heads as the walk that moved her hips so sensually.
The deep red lips were teamed with the same colour on her toe and fingernails and the whole effect was completed by the fragrance of Chanel No.5.
As she walked across the pedestrian precinct in the middle of the city, the lunchtime sun seemed to follow her like a spotlight on a stage. It was as though men arrived on the scene from everywhere just to see her pass by, forming a corridor of pent-up desire and longing at her innate sexuality.
