shoulders, I applied some more sticky lip-gloss.
Laura confidently ordered our drinks. She was immediately approached by the shortest player of the whole rugby team. He was what she would later dismissively call a ‘typical Irish Leprechaun.’ However, despite his lack of height, Laura seized the opportunity and flirted unashamedly with him in order to get an introduction to the rest of the team.
He must be the one who ends up on the bottom of the scrum pile, I mused to myself as I watched Laura fluttering her eyelashes and handing me a vodka and coke. This guy definitely had a face only a mother could love.
Laura’ s flirting did the trick though; before I knew it, we were whisked over and introduced to the rest of the team. Thank you, God! Miraculously the pain in my ankle subsided as my focus was instantly turned to the bulking frames of pure muscle in my midst.
I was going to play it super-cool, noticing that one of the rugby players kept staring and smiling at me. He was absolutely the best-looking ride I had seen for, like, ever . Oh yes, I fantasised about doing some rip-roaring sexual healing with him. I took a deep breath and pretended I hadn’t noticed him. No way was I going to make eye contact - which made him stare even more to get my attention. I did my ‘I haven’t even noticed you’ routine and simply exaggerated my body language, oozing femininity to stir him up, while very obviously scanning the rest of the team.
Trying to find confidence from somewhere, I conjured up a little plan. With my heart pounding, I swaggered in front of him towards the toilets. The prime objective of this killer strategy was to give him an opening to whiff my new ‘take-me-now’ perfume, which perfectly complimented my ‘take-me-now-eyes’. As I got within a few feet of him, I opened my mouth as if about to blow a bubble, rounding my lips into the perfect ‘O’ shape in the hope of the perfect pout. As I drew up beside him, I paused for a few seconds while standing far closer than absolutely necessary and seductively placed my hand on his torso.
‘Ex-cu-s e me,’ I whispered, in the slowest, sexiest voice I could conjure up. Unable to contain myself, I kept moving while sensually trailing my fingertips across his muscular torso. God knows what this was doing to the man, but I could feel adrenaline coursing through my veins. My breathing was short and sharp, as I battled to keep my sexy composure. That’s no walk in the park either while wearing four-inch heels, holding in your stomach, sticking out your chest, keeping your shoulders back, pouting your lips and wiggling your backside at the same time. I’d like to see blokes try to pull off that move.
As I slithered across the floor, I could feel his eyes burning into me. A sixth sense told me he was watching my every move. Knowing how visual a man is, I thought I would go one step further and emphasise my womanly sensuality a little more by slightly exaggerating the bum wiggle while sticking my chest out a few inches further for ultimate sex bomb effect. I was nearly at the toilet door, when I felt my (severely battered) ankle give way.
The next few seconds were like a scene from Bambi. My knees banged together while my flailing arms grabbed some poor , unsuspecting woman. God love her, she seemed genuinely concerned as she steadied me. I hardly even managed to thank her because, in trying to re-gain my prowess, I quickly turned around red-faced and saw Laura chatting to my prey.
‘Feck … arse… shite!’ I scolded myself, as I hobbled through to the toilets. What if he saw me? Waving furiously at Laura from behind the door, I beckoned her over.
‘Laura. Laura! Come here quick! Oh my God… I’m so embarrassed. It could only happen to me,’ I groaned as I yanked her in.
‘What’s up?’ she asked, ignorant to my nearly fatal mishap.
‘Please , tell me you didn’t see that?’ I begged, as I cupped my hands over my face in shame.
‘See
Laura confidently ordered our drinks. She was immediately approached by the shortest player of the whole rugby team. He was what she would later dismissively call a ‘typical Irish Leprechaun.’ However, despite his lack of height, Laura seized the opportunity and flirted unashamedly with him in order to get an introduction to the rest of the team.
He must be the one who ends up on the bottom of the scrum pile, I mused to myself as I watched Laura fluttering her eyelashes and handing me a vodka and coke. This guy definitely had a face only a mother could love.
Laura’ s flirting did the trick though; before I knew it, we were whisked over and introduced to the rest of the team. Thank you, God! Miraculously the pain in my ankle subsided as my focus was instantly turned to the bulking frames of pure muscle in my midst.
I was going to play it super-cool, noticing that one of the rugby players kept staring and smiling at me. He was absolutely the best-looking ride I had seen for, like, ever . Oh yes, I fantasised about doing some rip-roaring sexual healing with him. I took a deep breath and pretended I hadn’t noticed him. No way was I going to make eye contact - which made him stare even more to get my attention. I did my ‘I haven’t even noticed you’ routine and simply exaggerated my body language, oozing femininity to stir him up, while very obviously scanning the rest of the team.
Trying to find confidence from somewhere, I conjured up a little plan. With my heart pounding, I swaggered in front of him towards the toilets. The prime objective of this killer strategy was to give him an opening to whiff my new ‘take-me-now’ perfume, which perfectly complimented my ‘take-me-now-eyes’. As I got within a few feet of him, I opened my mouth as if about to blow a bubble, rounding my lips into the perfect ‘O’ shape in the hope of the perfect pout. As I drew up beside him, I paused for a few seconds while standing far closer than absolutely necessary and seductively placed my hand on his torso.
‘Ex-cu-s e me,’ I whispered, in the slowest, sexiest voice I could conjure up. Unable to contain myself, I kept moving while sensually trailing my fingertips across his muscular torso. God knows what this was doing to the man, but I could feel adrenaline coursing through my veins. My breathing was short and sharp, as I battled to keep my sexy composure. That’s no walk in the park either while wearing four-inch heels, holding in your stomach, sticking out your chest, keeping your shoulders back, pouting your lips and wiggling your backside at the same time. I’d like to see blokes try to pull off that move.
As I slithered across the floor, I could feel his eyes burning into me. A sixth sense told me he was watching my every move. Knowing how visual a man is, I thought I would go one step further and emphasise my womanly sensuality a little more by slightly exaggerating the bum wiggle while sticking my chest out a few inches further for ultimate sex bomb effect. I was nearly at the toilet door, when I felt my (severely battered) ankle give way.
The next few seconds were like a scene from Bambi. My knees banged together while my flailing arms grabbed some poor , unsuspecting woman. God love her, she seemed genuinely concerned as she steadied me. I hardly even managed to thank her because, in trying to re-gain my prowess, I quickly turned around red-faced and saw Laura chatting to my prey.
‘Feck … arse… shite!’ I scolded myself, as I hobbled through to the toilets. What if he saw me? Waving furiously at Laura from behind the door, I beckoned her over.
‘Laura. Laura! Come here quick! Oh my God… I’m so embarrassed. It could only happen to me,’ I groaned as I yanked her in.
‘What’s up?’ she asked, ignorant to my nearly fatal mishap.
‘Please , tell me you didn’t see that?’ I begged, as I cupped my hands over my face in shame.
‘See
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