I look at her. I mean, I really take a good look at her. Pedicured toes(I always believed that a woman should take care of her feet and hands), wearing my thong flip flops(looks great on her feet), slender calfs(no cankles!), slender thighs, toned stomach(loves and cares for her body), very noticible chest(C, maybe D, covered in her bra), slender neck, small chin, Colgate smile, cute, small nose, pretty contacts(a very deep shade of green), long, chest length hair(always loved long hair), and an honest, yet seductive look to her from her eyebrows. Basically, she was a model.

“Hey,” I graveled out. She blew me a kiss. I put it on her last night. Why does she look familiar? “Eggs, sausage and…toast?” “Obviously,” she said, giggling. I know her, from where though. Last night genius. “Well, I’m up, you’re up, let’s have a roll in the hay, huh?” She smiled, the kind when you win a chess game.