I went to a party.
It was a great party.
The house was packed and there was food and drink a plenty.
I grabbed a glass of wine and a plate of food, chatted with the host, and made my way to the backyard to eat.
While I was sitting in the yard, a woman emerged from the house.
A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN.
Wearing a black top and black leather short shorts.
She looked amazing.
Let me rephrase that.
She looked amazing and she had a pair of killer stems on her.
That’s right folks.
She had legs.
Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen legs so nice on a woman in real life that wasn’t a supermodel.
And while this woman wasn’t a tall supermodel by any stretch of the imagination, she certainly had a pair of legs on her.
I pay attention to legs.
Mostly because I was born with thick sturdy legs and I’ve always wished I had slender thighs and calves.
Sure, I can probably leg press more than her, but I’d certainly give that up to be able to saunter into a room at a party in a short skirt and have all the men and women envy me my legs.
There is one point of comfort for me, however.
I may not have amazing legs, but I certainly inherited an amazing rack.
And given a choice between the two, I think you know what I’d pick