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The Sweetest Glance

The Sweetest Glance

The Sweetest Glance

He enters silently. Not uttering a word, he looks around. He glances down at the watch on his wrist. Though it is nightfall and we are in a jazz club surrounded by dimmed lighting, he feels the need to cover his eyes with shades.

He appears somewhat rebellious with his leather jacket; sweater, boots, and baggy jeans, decked out in total black and of course, the black Giorgio frames donning his handsome face.

As he walks through the crowded room I notice that my eyes are not the only ones following his movement. It appears that every other woman here in this time and place can’t stop tracing his actions either.

He fails to locate a seat so he makes his way to a corner of the club and he leans against a wall, in a suave sort of James Dean stance. His whole aura exudes sexiness and even with the leather jacket and loose-fitting pants one could not miss his manly physique, revealing the fact that he obviously spends time working out.

He soon begins to enjoy the popular jazz tune being performed by the house band. This is certain from the slight nod of his head. The gorgeous specimen standing before me soon removes the shield from his sight.

I am immediately drawn to a pair of the most beautiful pair of eyes that I have ever seen. His striking gray eyes remind me of diamonds. On such a beautiful, dark chocolate brother they stood out at first glance.

He looks my way and his eyes smile at me speaking in volumes, even though no verbal communication is shared. Not only do they smile they twinkle at me causing my insides to quiver and my womanhood to beam back in return. It is amazing how one simple glance could have such a powerful effect on a mature woman such as myself.

Suddenly he intensely looks at me, winks, and nods for me to advance in his direction. I lose my balance nearly falling from the barstool upon which I sit. His eyes greet me with a “hello”. I grow uncomfortable and I am unable to move.

His eyes appear to become smoky and grayer in intensity. They look as if they are pleading, asking me to come hither. Of course… I being the woman that I am… did just that.

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