She was always there. Day after day, at the same time, at the same street, and walking the same confident way. Her strides were long; her back was straight; her long brunette hair was either in a ponytail or swaying about in the wind. She oozed class and sophistication.  I never saw her in jeans, slacks or shorts, always in various designer skirts or dresses. Top of the line shoes adorned her feet from pumps, to sandals, to six inch high heels.

I could always tell when she had important business meetings or if it was a casual day.  She dressed accordingly for the occasion.  Her makeup was always tastefully done; not too much, and not too little.  A pure professional in all aspects.

But, what did I really know about her?  I just saw her as I drove home from work. She was always walking down the street after the commuter train had just dropped her off.  We had the same schedules, and we just happened to be on the same street, at the same time every day.  Day after day and month after month. 

But after seeing her for a few months, my eyes became accustomed to looking for her, my heart even skipped a beat every time she came into view.  No idea why, maybe it was her subtle beauty, class, sophistication, or maybe it was the mystery about her.  Every now and then she would cross in front of me at the stop sign.  Some days she would look directly at me and smile.  Some days she would wave.  Some days she would be so busy chatting on her phone she didn’t even look up when crossing the street. It was all a routine.  The routine of life.  I subconsciously gave her the name of Misty.  Why?  No idea, it just seemed to fit her.

One day, she wasn’t walking with her usual confidence.  Her head was down, her shoulders were slumped, and I could tell she was not in a good mood.  My wave went unnoticed and there was a pain in her eyes like she had just lost something or someone.  This continued on for several weeks.  Finally, on a Friday afternoon, she gave me a weak smile and a very weak wave as she crossed in front of me.  As her hand passed by her face, I saw it, or lack of it.  The lack of a ring. Her wedding ring was gone.

Something inside me felt a tinge of pain as I saw this.  A beautiful woman had lost the person she had loved.  I didn’t know if it was due to death, her doing, or the husband’s doing.  All I knew was that she was in pain and hurting.  So, I did something I never did before with her.  I rolled down my window, gave a toot on my horn, and said with a smile, “Have a great weekend and Smile!”

Her head turned towards me and I could see her mouth the words, “Thank you.”  Her body language didn’t change despite my efforts.  She kept trudging along up the street to who knows where.  Her house? Her apartment? A friend's place?

Her downtrodden behavior continued for months on end.  Every Friday I would give the complimentary toot of my horn, tell her to smile and have a nice weekend.  But, her sorrow continued.  Finally one Friday I yelled, “Hey, I miss your smile, your pep, your confident walk.”  She just looked at me with a turned head and kept walking.

Then, something must have changed.  One Monday morning her step was a bit upbeat and her back was straight again.  She was moving in the right direction.  That Friday, I gave her a thumbs up, a big smile, and a huge wave.  This time she responded with a big smile and a gentle wave of her hand. It was progress.

The following Monday evening, the waves of heat could still be seen coming off the blacktop.  As I came to a stop at the usual spot, I swiveled my head around.  There she was...or was it her?  Thin, skin-tight, white cotton clung to her body.  The outline of her lace bra was evident beneath her sweat-soaked dress.  The hem of her dress just barely covered her rounded ass.  A wide-brimmed hat covered her face. 

Then, it happened so suddenly, I had to do a double-take.  A fluttering hat went by my windshield and landed to the left of my car.  A white blur went across my sight line and then my eyes followed suit.  To my left was Misty, bending over at the waist, picking up her hat.  Her dress rode up her thigh and over her ass, giving me a glimpse of her g-string and her creamy white bottom.  

A horn sounded and I came out of my trance.  My eyes were still glued on Misty's backside as she pulled her dress down, flung her hair back and continued walking up the sidewalk away from me as if nothing had happened.  As I let off the brake, she turned around to face me and waved with a grin on her face.

The next few weeks were uneventful and my chance encounters with Misty were normal as usual.  Her classy, conservative, yet professional dress returned to normal.  Her smooth walk and confidence were once again restored.  Her sorrow had left, and it appeared she had gone back to her usual life.

()()()()

Saturday night and the bachelor party had begun.  Nothing big was planned, just a bunch of guys sitting around watching sports and drinking beer.  The bachelor didn’t want the usual strippers and crazy night out as is stereotypical of most bachelor parties.  But, we all knew it was the other half that told him no strippers.  She had him by the balls and we knew it.  It was the best piece of ass he had ever had, and she controlled him like catnip in front of a kitten.

After a few hours of just hanging out, we all looked at each other and stood up.  The bachelor looked up from the couch as if to ask what was going on.  We all responded at the same time, “The limo is out front, time to go.”  He hesitated and gave a ‘what the hell’ look and got up to join us.

The weed filled the back of the limo and the shots were poured.  After two hours of driving, we had finally arrived at a classy strip joint out of town so the bachelor’s significant other wouldn’t know where we were at.  We turned off his cell phone and left ours in the limo as we headed into the club.  We all agreed to keep the pictures and any evidence of debauchery in our memory.

Two hours of fun filled, incoherent, and childish behavior ensued with all of the guys.  By the end of the two hours in the private VIP room, all were wearing just their boxers, except me.  My pants had somehow stayed on despite all of the rubbing, pulling, and grinding from the ladies. 

Leaning against the bar, I saw her walk in with a round of beer and shots.  Even in my foggy, drunken state, her walk and class were unmistakable.  Her pert nipples poked through the sheer black negligée barely covering her ass.  Black fishnet stockings and come fuck me stilettos accentuated her shapely toned calves.  

I quickly turned away, embarrassed at being ‘caught’ in a strip joint by someone I barely knew.  My eyes followed her around the room by staring at her via the bar mirror.  Somehow the music faded away and my mind became clearer as I kept my eyes on her. Her beauty put me in a trance.  Before I knew it, she was standing beside me, waiting for me to take my beer off of her cocktail tray.  I did a double-take to make sure it was her.  She smiled and nodded at me as if to say, ‘yes it is who you are thinking it is’. 

Misty didn’t say a word as I took my beer.  Taking a deep breath, she pulled a shot from her tray and snuggled up to me.  We clinked our glasses together and smiled as she downed a shot of whiskey and I sipped on my beer.  Instinctively, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out some cash and without looking, took some bills and handed them to her for a tip.  Hesitating, she took them, leaned into my ear and said, “Thank you, Rover,” and gave me a light peck on the cheek.  Just as quickly as I felt her soft lips on my cheek, she was gone. I didn’t see her the rest of the night.

()()()

The sun shone brightly Monday morning as I drove into work.  My head was still foggy from Saturday night.  I didn’t get out of bed all day Sunday, except to use the bathroom and get something to eat.  My body couldn’t handle the punishment anymore.  One night of heavy drinking and smoking weed put me under the table for two days now. 

The day flew by and I was soon back in my car headed home, still in a daze. It had become a habit, stop here, turn there, and wait for the train to go by.  My foot slowly pushed down on the brake as I approached my favorite stop.  I looked both ways but I didn’t see her.  I squinted through the sun and inched forward hoping I hadn’t missed her. 

Alas, the trick had worked inching forward.  I saw her approaching from behind in my rearview mirror.  She was waving at me and had started walked faster as I pulled through the stop sign. My eyes never left her as she tried to get my attention by waving faster and yelling.  I pulled over to the curb and rolled down my window.

She walked past me on the sidewalk and crossed over in front of me.  In her hand was a small brown paper bag.  Her delicate hand held the bag through my car window as she leaned into my Land Rover.  Her nails were painted and perfectly manicured, and I could smell the sweet scent of her perfume.  And, just like the at the strip joint, she leaned in, gave me a light peck on the cheek, and dropped the bag into my lap. Whispering in my ear she said, “Wait till you get home to open it.”  With a quick twirl, she was up the sidewalk headed for her destination.

The anticipation to just rip open the bag and look inside tore at me as I drove home.  But, I kept my composure and waited until I was safely inside my house to open the bag.  Inside I found a card, stilettos, fishnet stockings, garter, and a black see-through negligee.

The card was white and plain on the outside, except for a handwritten ‘Thank You’.  Inside was a simple url address and the words, “Don't wait too long, it expires in two hours.  Password: sophisticated lady.”   I hesitated for a bit and ran into my office.  Fumbling around, I got logged in and typed in the url Misty had given me.  I waited for a few seconds and then the screen turned from black to all light blue.  The center of the screen showed a picture of a black negligee.   I wondered for a bit if this was some sort of joke.  Clicking on the black negligee, I was rewarded with a full size picture of Misty from the back, wearing a long, red, silk robe. 

Slow, seductive music began to flow through my speakers. The sweet soft tones of a woman instructed me to click on the picture.  I did so, and the picture faded to just enough light for me to see the outlines of Misty on the screen.  She began to move slowly in a seductive striptease.  The robe slowly came off and I could make out the fishnet stockings, stilettos, garter, and the black negligee. When she moved just right, I could see light glancing off of her face and neck, but never off the rest of her body.  Her movements kept me glued to the screen as she danced on the screen.  I could feel the blood rushing to my groin and my member getting hard. 

As I turned up the volume on the music, she began to slowly twirl.  I could see the negligee lifting and fluttering off of her body.  With a flick of her hand, the negligee slid off, and she was before me in a naked shadow.  The outline of her ass and breasts were quite evident as she turned sideways.  Her nipples lifted skyward in pointed fashion as she reached for the ceiling and stood on her tiptoes.  Then, she was gone, the screen faded to black for a few seconds and then went back to the previous light blue color.  Fading onto the screen was a message, “Two weeks.”  The screen went dark again.

After a few moments, I refreshed the screen.  And again, a blue screen greeted me.  Only this time another message appeared, “Nice try Rover – two weeks!”