Six Sentence Story
A six sentence story by James Rainsford
She perched alone at the hotel bar on a high chrome stool, her long blonde hair cascading down her flawless back like a waterfall of golden rain, reflecting the bar lights like twinkling stars and possessing the mind of Randy Masters with the hopeful dream she may be his.
Attired in a perfectly tailored backless cream silk mini dress, her long shapely legs ended with her small delicate feet encased in a pair of scarlet Jimmy Choo stilettos, so outrageously erotic, that Randy was finding it difficult to breath.
She was a vision of such desirability that as Randy drained the last drops of his gin and tonic and rose to approach her, his mouth immediately became as dry a sheet of sandpaper in microwave.
He suavely mounted the vacant stool next to her perfect form and experienced a delicious moment of panic and foolish expectation as she slowly turned to confront his unexpected arrival.
He was left momentarily speechless by her intense beauty, her perfume exuded an intoxicating aroma of sexual promise and with his heart now beating so rapidly he thought it would burst through his chest, he summoned the last of his rapidly failing courage as he said, ‘Good evening beautiful, my name’s Randy, you are so stunningly gorgeous that I would like permission to buy you a drink.’
For Randy, time seemed to stop as she carefully studied him with her intensely attractive azure eyes, before moistening her perfect lips and finally replying in an unexpectedly deep and husky Australian accent, ‘Well, hi Randy, I’m Bruce, and I’d love a pint of Fosters mate.’
©James Rainsford 2010