What it was that made her stand out, was impossible to say, yet she did, her costume twinned to all the high kicking beauties of the chorus, but there was something about her, the way she just came together, her freckles promising innocence, but her mouth perfect and pouty a hunger for life and it's pleasures, her blue eyes an ingenue's curiosity, but her hair blazed with a sophisticated sensuality, the allure of an aloof Helen in the flower of her youth. *But, it was the way she moved her legs kicking, though synchronized, there was something more, about her than all the other beauties on the stage lacked, that the all the women on my trip had lacked, that I had not seen in all the ports of the pacific. *
* *Flipping open my program I found her, That ravishing beauty staring from the page, her smile as inviting as a siren's luring a sailor to his doom, Rosalyn, the face matched the name. *I hunted the major domo with a determination I normally reserved for Jap cruisers, when I said the name he smiled, like a hundred other men had sent roses to to her dressing room, but along with the bouquet I sent my Dixie Cup, that sailor's hat goofy though it seems, has opened a thousand legs. *
* * *Leaning against the ballustrade I smugly grinned as he returned, and unmistakably my gambit had worked, the imprint of a kiss, of her lips were crimson against the white of the hat. *And the major domo smiled as he ushered me back stage, the smell of perfume was in the air, and the giggle of rockettes filled the air at my intrusion heading to their dressing rooms in various states of undress, blondes and brunettes, blue, green, hazel and brown eyes glimmered in perfect faces, dancers bodies in a sensual classy parody of the uniform I wore. *It was a scene that would pause even the wealthiest sheik, yet the flirtation and giggles of her peers did not slow me. *The door said "Rosalyn" in cursive script and I knocked, standing jaunty, with a smug grin on my face, and an involuntary hardness striking in my pants.
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