Miss Raven

Just out of college I worked at an R&D laboratory at Ford Motor Company in Highland Park, Michigan. Every once in a while the guys would go out on a Friday evening to a girly bar. Most of the fellows were older and married. I was a young, inexperienced bachelor. 

Those bar expeditions were excellent, dude.

On one occasion a voluptuous dark hair beauty named Raven was dancing for our pleasure. (Think, a steamy Nigella Lawson.) She wore shiney electric blue bikini panties and a gauzy billowy pale blue baby doll top. See through, but not showing too much but a flirting glance every now and then as she moved to the music.

The room was boisterous, and in a covert attempt to get her attention I called out, "Hey, fellas, let's quiet down and let the lady dance." 

Soon after, the song came on with the lyrics "... just snap your fingers and I'll come running." On cue, I frantically began to snap my fingers in Miss Raven's direction. Without an ounce of hesitation she ran down from the elevated stage, approaching me assertively and got real up close and personal. Lap dance. No. More.

I was sitting in a booth, with a high back. Raven positioned herself hovering over me with one foot on the seat and the other parked on the top of the seat back just behind my shoulder. For my eyes only, she lifted her gossimer top to reveal the most ample breasts anyone would hope to ever see. Then she proffered one directly in front of my face. Being a gentleman, I obliged the young lady.

Raven! A tender bashful kiss. Alas, nevermore.

 (Thanking Ms. Nigella Lawson for standing in for Miss Raven.)

Miss Polonis

After some years one can’t help but think about past things, and what might have been, opportunities missed.

At college in freshman year Miss Polonis was the teaching fellow graduate student in my Botany lab. Looking back now I realize that she was a true world class knockout babe. Babelicious, as we say these days.

I was not unaware of the considerable charms of Miss Polonis, but at the time I had a huge crush on the girl across the lab bench; and, I was a one woman man. Besides, at that naive age any female older than me by any amount of time just wasn’t even a possibility to my way of thinking. (Looking back, I could have used the kind and knowing "guidance" from such a lady. Alas, only to be a fantasy. Now, anyone older than me — not to mince any words — is just an old lady. Not that there is anything wrong with that.)

Miss Polonis was no fantasy. She was a gen-u-ine blond bombshell. W-O-M-A-N. Beautiful glossy blond hair worn tidily pinned up. Dark frame eye glasses à la Judy Holliday in Born Yesterday. Long slinky black skirt, modest yet curvy. Heels. Nylon stockings; with seams? (I don’t remember about the seams, but let’s fill that in for effect.) Frilly crisp white blouses buttoned to the top. Full bosom. Marilyn Monroe face. Red lips, long lashes. Woof!

Miss Polonis flirted with me. I think she sensed my attraction (and uneasiness) and played with it a bit. She would sashay near my spot in the lab and say tunefully in a soft intimate voice, Hello . . . Mr. Wronski. I did my best Walter Denton (played by Richard Crenna) impersonation from Our Miss Brooks. Hello, Miss Polonis.

It was delicious. And, she was.