smoothes down the front of her skirt. It is regulation length, 3 inches
above the knee. Walking past the trays, she passes by
the shrimp cocktail,
pigs in a blanket,
salmon mousse puffs
She selects one, the tastiest, raw oysters with a tangy seaweed salad and a scoop of caviar.
Shes hungry too. Head high, her legs carry her out to the party. Napkins passing, mouths gobbling the tempting treats, she stops by him. She noticed him earlier at the bar.
"Raw oyster," she offers. He takes one, slurping on it loudly, his tongue sucking and swishing, his eyes grazing her tray before following the line of her body.
A napkin is passed while her eyes pass over his form, resting a second too long on the slight bulge of his pants.
Returning to the kitchen, Sara licks her lips.
She tamps them slightly ensuring the red color of her lipstick stains them both equally.
Grabbing her favorite tray again, she emerges from the kitchen into the throngs of people.
She looks for him; he seemed to enjoy the oysters. Finding them just as the tray is emptied gives her an idea.
"Excuse me," he asks." Do you have any more oysters?"
"I do," she replies. "Follow me, I set some aside just for you."
Turning quickly she strides authoritatively to the nearest stairwell.
A secret stairwell for some privacy.
The man follows without hesitation.
After selling her soul through years of catering slavery, LISA RICCIUTI emerges a true American survivor, alongside such notables as Jessica Lynch and Elizabeth Smart. She is currently writing children's literature. Her first novel, soon to be released, is a story of a girl who is adamant about being fat.