Two women, one a blond, one brunette, strode on long legs towards me.
As a certified Dirty Old Man, I ogled the charms displayed by thigh-high denim shorts and low-cut tops.
Blondie’s hands and eyes drifted to her tits to see if she was displaying too much, then lowered and tugged at her shorts.
Why are you dressed that way if you did not want men to look?
Her mate looked at that dance, shrugged her shoulders, smiled, and gave me a wink.
I immediately knew which one I would chat with as we entered the bar. I like confidence.
