She walked in and my world stopped. I stared like a hormonal teenager, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She wasn't the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, she wasn't the fittest, nor was she particularly well dressed. I can't pin down what it was that captured me, but I was hooked.
Part of it was her walk! She strode with a confidence I had never seen in anyone. Not an arrogant walk, but a walk that said, 'Here I am, regardless of what you think.' There were no apologies in her movements, but no brashness either. Since I always feel like my walk looked like a newborn horse trying to rise up on her spindly legs, I have always been attracted to people who moved well. I do just fine dancing, and I run like a true racehorse, but my walk will always be gawky in my own eyes. Her walk was magnificent!
She was with several people, but they faded into the background. She was the center attraction without anyone really seeming to defer to her. They headed toward the back and got on the nearest pool table. There were five of them with her, two guys and three girls. They were obvious friends and regulars with the bar. I didn't see anyone order, but the waitress brought over drinks, including a light-red wine for Her.
Her smile was infectious, even from across the room I found myself smiling because of something someone said to her. I couldn't hear it, but when she smiled, it warmed me. There was a touch of mischievousness in that smile, and the angle she held her head told me she was capable of anything. She started telling her own story that had her friends and a few nearby people laughing. Good, a sense of humor!
Her hair was a non-descript color, some brown, some auburn; a slightly lighter streak down one side told me that she probably didn't color it. No phoniness about her appearance, it showed her confidence as much as her walk did. Her hair was simply brushed back, with enough of something to hold it, probably a spray rather than something heavier. For some reason it hung a bit heavier on one side of her face, but it swung nicely to her movements.
Her face was striking, large dark eyes, full eyebrows, not those tweezed to death things to many girls still do to themselves. Light make-up, a touch of a lip color, and hardly any eye make-up, but with her eyes she didn't need any. She was slightly olive-skinned, or so the lighting in the bar made her look. I guess her heritage might be Latin or Greek, but there was more than that in her background. She had a face that was heart-shaped, very Asian, but those eyes were Slavic, or my own heritage would disown me. Large, round, dark eyes; I wonder if she could see in the dark?
She wasn't very tall, about 5'5 or so; she was in tennis shoes with no socks. Her jeans were tight, not painted on, but a nice fit showing a nice figure--a very nice figure. Generous hips, slim waist, and full breasts; the body of someone used to physical work, but not the hard lines of an athlete or addicted gym nut. She was wearing a skin-tight top, with an open shirt--a men's denim shirt, over it. It would billow open showing her curves without making them look like they were on display. No sign of a wedding ring, but that didn't mean too much nowadays. I wonder if she was connected to one of the guys in her group. No, there was no one in particular, but one of the girls was hanging a little possessively, but She didn't seem to reciprocate.
She started playing pool and when she leaned over the edge of the table, the view was breathtaking. I saw a couple of guys enjoying the view in a much more
obvious
manner. I was at least far enough away to not be obtrusive about my interest. Her focus for the game was pretty intense, but only during her shot. In between shots she was lively and talkative. It was weird watching her. I don't know which view I preferred more; when she was across the table from me I could see her face and that look of total concentration was fascinating. But when she was on the near side of the table I was blessed with a remarkable view of her bottom stretching that denim fabric in all the best places. From the side her shirt hung down denying me a view of her heavy breasts, but the line of her back, ass, and leg was a great substitute.
She played well, which drew more attention. Several people lined up to take the table away, but her determination kept her winning. No betting, which I liked, although I saw several side-bets between other people.
I also noticed that she didn't drink much, another thing I liked; she was drinking just enough to stay sociable. The waitress brought her another, but when the waitress indicated who had bought it, she declined, politely. I wonder who . . oh I see, one of the guys admiring her ass bought her the drink and she turned itdown.
As the waitress left, the guy stood a little bit belligerently. Even I could see trouble from my seat. I debated about helping her; but something told me she would be just fine. The belligerent asshole moved to the pool table. He got behind her, for a second I thought he might try something physical, but he said something I couldn't hear. The people around the table reacted--but not her--she continued her shot.
The asshole wasn't very patient, as she pulled back her stick and he touched it—knocking it to one side. Her control was remarkable; she held up her shot and slowly stood up. Then she turned and caught fire! That is the only way to describe it. When she last faced this way she was the picture of niceness, fun, and jokes. When she turned to look at him she was an elemental of fire, her gaze could have burned through steel and when she aimed it at him I am surprised he didn't expire on the spot. He quailed as he tried to meet her eyes, failing like a cowed dog. She looked like the most dangerous person in the world. Her gaze smoked the very air for just one more second, then it passed and she bent back over the table to shoot while the troublemaker slunk off away, no longer worthy of her interest.
Like nothing had happened, she made her shot and the game continued. I turned my back on her for the first time all evening and sipped my Irish while I thought about her. She is amazing! Strong, but not overwhelming! Supremely confident in herself, but not arrogant! Beautiful in a real way, not artificial! I could see her on a horse, probably an Appaloosa, because spotted would be her speed! I turned back and saw two other people playing pool; the inconceivable happened while my back was turned, she lost.
I looked for her, but didn't see her. Her friends were still there; maybe she was in the loo? A low husky voice spoke from over my right shoulder, "I didn't!"
I turned, it was her, I looked at her in surprise!
"I didn't lose. I wanted a break from playing." She sat at the stool next to me. Her shirt billowed open. I tried to stop myself, but my gaze traveled down from her face to her waist and back up to her eyes.
I expected her to be annoyed at my not-so-obvious look, but she was smiling.
"So you read minds?" My first words made sense in my head, but when they came out they sounded a little flat, so much for showing off my sense of humor.
She looked at me, apparently reappraising me. "No mind-reading involved, you spent all night staring at me and then when you turned back to the table you reacted when you saw I was missing. Are you always so transparent?"
"Not that I know of, but you certainly caught me off-guard."
"When I snuck up on you?" Her weight came off the stool; she was an instant away from leaving.
"Nope, when you walked in!"
She settled back down on the stool. I felt like I passed some sort of test.
"Touché! There is more to you than meets the eye. Why the stare job? You shook up a couple of my friends."
"Sorry about the staring, I knew I was doing it, but I couldn't help it."
"Why not?"
Yea, why not!
I thought to myself. "Because, at the time, it seemed like the only thing to do."
She laughed.
Whew, she laughed. Why does that make me feel so good?
"So now what do we do?"
"Lady, I am clueless, this is new territory for me."
