Hot Babe

Europa

Is Europa, of course.

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Shorts girl

She walked into the bar wearing denim shorts so short, that at every step, the men who inevitably turned to look at her legs, could see a tiny bit of ass cheek.

She sat on a bar stool next to me.  I ignored her.  She probably wanted me to buy her a drink.

I glanced around to see that she was staring at me.  I gifted her a smile and took the drinks back to my friends.

Half an hour later, we finished our drinks and got up to leave.  She was still sitting on the stool; some man with downcast eyes was walking away from her.

She caught my eye again.

“What are you doing?” I said.

“I’m drinking.”

“Drinking by yourself is a slippery slope to alcoholism.”

“So drink with me, then.”

I smiled.  “I’m leaving.”

She cocked her head and pouted her lips.  “Nice try,” I say.

“I’ll be here again tomorrow,” she said.

With a come-on like that, what man wouldn’t crawl back to the bar the next day, only to be humiliated and probably ignored by her?

“I won’t be,” I said, and I gave the name of a bar where I would be. “It’s a corporate event.  Wear something appropriate.”

She turned up at the ‘event’, wearing a tight black dress that was short, but covered more thigh than the shorts of the previous day. She was on the arm of a man standing a full head taller than her. He had dark combed-back hair, a white open-neck shirt revealing a forest of black chest-chair, and charcoal gray trousers.

“I came,” she said to me.

Her escort was sent for drinks.  She squeezed my hand.  I lead her to the cloak-room.

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