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The last bus left just as I turned the corner of the street. I run after it, my heels clattering on the pavement, making me think briefly about the clattering of hooves on the cobbled streets of times long gone. Long gone, like my last bus is gone. I reach the bus stop and stare after the bus. ?Another one will be along soon enough,? a deep voice says and I look round and see a tall, slim man, slightly older than me, with short, greying stubble. He is wearing an old fashioned flat cap, a long, camel hair overcoat and what appear to be tight leather trousers underneath. He is wearing Doc Martin boots which don't fit with the overcoat but which look good with the trousers. I try to judge if he is drunkenly hitting on me but he seems sober enough. I expect him to be smoking, not sure why, but he isn't. He looks briefly at me, then walks to the timetable on the bus shelter, reads it carefully and says, ?Yes, ten minutes.*quot; ?It was the last bus,? I mutter, suddenly embarrassed. I am acutely Karaköy escort aware that I am dressed provocatively, not something I normally do. Norah's party had been her attempt to have me meet eligible men and she had told me to dress sexily and foolishly I had obliged. Although I am used to wearing high heels in the office, the shiny black shoes I now have on are higher than I wear to work. These are Saturday night shoes. For some reason I had chosen to wear a pair which fasten around the ankle, impossible to just kick off, and the ankle straps pulled a little tighter than really needed. And then a short satin mini-skirt reaching down to just above the knees, not so indecent really and concealing whatever I chose to wear underneath. My top was flouncy and loose fitting, white and low cut, framing a simple gold chain around my neck dangling down and nestling in my cleavage. I had no jacket, the spring evening had been warm when I left home, Kayaşehir escort bayan turning chilly after dark. This clothing related mating display hadn't brought out much intelligent conversation in the men she had introduced me to and I had failed to hit it off with anyone. Not that it was the lack of a decent conversation that had stopped me from losing track of time and missing my last bus. The real reason I had missed the bus was I had expected to be able to walk faster, forgetting that my shoes and tight skirt would slow me down. Now this stranger seems determined to help me out. ?New timetable, started yesterday. Must be your lucky night!? He smiles at me, looking me in the eyes, ignoring my low cut dress which had fascinated all the uninteresting men at the party. His smile and his cool look both relaxes me and unnerves me. I shiver. ?Are you cold ? Would you like to borrow my coat?? he offers. Taking aback at this chivalrous Escort Küçükçekmece gesture, which would have been more appropriate in the time of the horseshoe clattering cobbled streets I had thought about earlier, all I can say is ?Uhmm.?* My apparent indecisiveness is taken as a yes and he takes off his overcoat, steps besides me and throws it over my shoulders. I feel his arms on my shoulders, lingering just a little bit longer than really necessary. Then he steps back and leans against the bus shelter. I am surprised to see that he is wearing a loose black shirt, largely open at the front, with broad laces across his naked chest. His chest is only slightly hairy, dark hairs. His flat top cap suddenly looks incongruous. ?I was at a play party,? he offers as explanation. Unsure what that might mean, I nod and smile. I feel warmer under the overcoat, its weight pressing down reassuringly on my shoulders. I think about pulling it closed at the front but I decide to leave my cleavage on display, slightly disappointed that this stranger has not even glanced down from my face. I do glance down. At his open shirt, at his tight leather trousers, at the bulge in the front of his trousers. I stop myself. Embarrassed, I raise my eyes to his, leaving my head slightly bowed from looking down.