the natural swoop of her breast

That dice had been thrown.


The call made.


The meet agreed.

She watched herself intently. The mirror imaging her every move.


A foot rested on her dressing room chair donning a pair of sheer black stockings. Her toes a glitter ball of nail varnish...she had settled for the glitter gold...feeling daring to attract attention to her imperfect toes.

Scrutinising her form. Near naked, she faced her form head on.


The mirror imaged.

She wanted to see what he saw.

A womanly form far beyond perfect.


Yet soft and beguiling and bewitching in the line of the curve.


A proud neck.


The natural swoop of the breast...time defining the beauty and challenge of motherhood.


A waist, hips and tummy witness of much love and feminine challenges....unique to those born a girl.


Her legs. She liked them even with the scars and marks defined by living a happy full life.


Turning sideways she grin ruefully at the line of her bum....


It may not be where it used to be but, in the difference it was even sexier.

And then....she turned and cupped her womaness.

Was this the attraction? The hope of what may be? The forbidden fruit?


That which clenched the meet?

He came from behind her.....having watched her from his seat.


Fascinated at the gentleness in her eyes as she studied herself.


Fascinated at the kind smile that lit her face as she turned to study the curve of her bum...

This woman was the package. She knew herself


The definition of her essence


She was more than perfect.

A wise decision made.....the night was going to be beyond rewarding.

To all women....you are blessed in your so called imperfections for that is what makes you unique and a beauty in the eyes of men.

RB.