She was a study in sexuality this one. Her honey-blonde hair was braided into two tight pigtails, her flawless beauty bathed alternately in various hues by the garish boardwalk lighting.
The click of her Mary Janes on the decking was muted but, nonetheless, at times audible. Her legs were encased in thigh-high stockings ending at the hem of the plaid skirt that clung to her like a second skin. Generous portions of her tanned lower back and smooth abdomen were visible, left uncovered by the too-small blouse that molded itself to her breasts.
She strolled, at ease, seemingly unaware she was tempting prey for predators of the human variety.
The leather-clad bravoes who seized her anticipated a variety of carnal pleasures on the brackish sand below.
Scant minutes later, she strode the boardwalk again. Wiping a stray trace of blood from the corner of her mouth, she wondered if she had any room left for dessert.