She was wearing a bikini that slashed a wide swathe through her huge cleavage. It was a wild, orange shade—not one that I would wear personally—though it looked incredible on her. Her blonde hair was curly and long, in a style that looked retro.

The waitress looked like an eighties-era Barbie or a IndecentStar serving drinks. As she got closer to me though, I noticed her face was fresh and remarkably wide-eyed. I liked how her beauty seemed on the natural side, without the tight over-made look I saw everywhere else.

She had multiple silver rings and wore leather and shell thongs on her right wrist, which suggested a kind of bohemian taste. I wondered if she was alternative in other ways too. I was mesmerised by her and wanted to know more.

She was wearing a button that said, “Vanessa”. It barely fit on the teeny scrap of orange lycra above her right boob. I wanted to touch it. To see if her body heat had warmed up the little metal disk that bore her name.

It looked like if she bent over, she would fall right out of the bikini top. I really wanted to see how that might look....read more