No expectation or hope, but I admit, a couple of fantasies

 Tuesday evening I saw one of the sexiest women I have ever seen in my life, certainly in person, and maybe including any actress or pop singer I can think of.  And then I tell you, I spent much longer than I probably should have trying to think if there was any way of expressing this to her:  Just how very good merely looking at, or gazing upon her had made me feel.  

I imagined parking the car and approaching her in as non-threatening a way as possible and saying "Miss, may I say with no fear of offending you, you are one of the sexiest women I have ever seen in my life." 

With no expectation or hope* beyond that, save that she be flattered; I could accept her thanks and move on having made someone's day.  But I couldn't think of a way to do that without coming off all stalker-y.  Also I lost track of her.

I was driving to a store when I saw her walking on the sidewalk by the road. Frustratingly, I can see in my mind's eye an actress her face (or at least my memory of same) reminds me of.  


But I cannot think of her name (she's not a big star).  Nor can I bring to mind something in which I saw her from which I might look her up.  I'm hoping it'll come to me.  I think she was in some movie of the '80s (gasp).

Anyway, this girl was black (lighter-skinned) with short-hacked, straightened hair.  


I feel like she may have had freckles...do black women, even lighter skinned, ever freckle?


(quick search...apparently, yes they do.  Though it may be rare.)

But the first thing I noticed about her was, yes, her shape from behind. 


In my defense, I was moving up from behind her at the time.  


She was wearing blue, light denim-colored shorts (I obviously don't know whether or not they really were denim). 

Not cut so high that her ass was hanging out and scaring the children, nor as tight as a Wonder Woman costume, they looked snug, but comfortable.  

I am human and hetero, I was pleased.  It was a nice ass.  It was, if I may, a black woman's ass.

I don't think I'd have willingly taken my eyes off it, if it were up to me. As I passed her by I of course checked her out from the front and side, inasmuch as I could while still thinking about my driving.  

About five years ago, I devoted a post to the opinion that one could appreciate beautiful women without recourse merely to earthy; plain speech.  


This whole blog is in many ways an expression of that idea.  And now I find myself with kind of a wrongheaded feeling:

I could tell you that she looked like a goddess (specifically of the Raquel-Welch-as-Lust-variety).  Or I could just say that she had big, fantastic tits.  Both are true.  

The tits were supported by what looked to me--again, this is based only upon as many glances as I could steal--like an under-wire bra; under a red top (the top was not low-cut).  

I said aloud, "Good lord!"

She looked like--and here I'm clearly slipping into imagination of what she might be like which means, what I'd like her to be like--someone who was not only blessed with a good body but the ability to feel comfortable in and enjoy it. 

Not like someone who feels the neurotic need either to cover up their sexuality or to trade almost solely upon it for approval.  


Anyway, I wanted to write about it, I think first just to record it, but also to see if I could let you--my vast reading audience--know what I found so sexy about her without making it sound like, just, she made me want to masturbate or "nice booty, that girl."


Did I succeed?

*No expectation or hope, but I admit, a couple of fantasies.  If you'd seen her, you'd understand.  I'm talking Denise-Richards-10-years-ago hot.

If she had turned out to be a prostitute--which I have no reason to think she would've--I'd have had to consider it.  If it had turned out she was a slut--frankly I have even less reason to think she would've--I would've felt comfortable going off with her into the bushes.  Stop looking at me askance, it happens.  Not to me, but it happens.