Thursday, July 12, 2012

The Red Heel Seduction

The Red Heel Seduction

Sitting in the plush crimson chair in the small theater, video film producer, Flex Featherstone, glared up at the dim empty stage. Releasing an exasperated breath, frustration knotted his shoulders. Today’s video auditions were disastrous.

Just as Flex stood to leave, Amanda Grace, his shy astute secretary sashayed on the stage. Wearing a long black trench coat and nerdy black glasses, she peered down at him. “Did you find someone that you like?” she inquired.   

Disgruntled, Flex’s shoulders slumped. “”

“May I audition?” Amanda’s ambition awed him.

Sure she was cute and reliable, but she was a far cry from a sex goddess. “Amanda… I don’t mean to hurt your feelings, but you’re not what my client is looking for.” Her bottom lip curled with disappointment. “Thank you for asking, though. Goodnight.”

Flex clenched the handle of his briefcase, turned, and then stalked toward the exit sign. Halfway down the aisle, a romantic jazz melody assailed his ears. He whirred.

            Jesus Christ!

Amanda was sheathed in a red, stretch satin chemise, with a keyhole cutout over her abdomen, and dancing exotically. A red light glowed warmly over her gyrating body. Simultaneously, she flattened her palms on the wooden floor, kicked up her legs, and spread her flexible limbs into a mouthwatering split. Bright red stilettos bedazzled her feet as she gracefully arched her torso into a backbend, then slid effortlessly into another split. 

Good Lord!

            Hot blood shot straight to Flex’s loins and his arousal painfully knotted.

            “Amanda you’re hired!”