A vision in blue

As their eyes met across the room, Samson felt his heart literally skip a beat. The woman was stunningly slim relative to the size of the cleavage which emerged from her fashionable blue jacket. Her glossy black hair hung down to her waist, just barely framing her smooth face. Yet it was the piercing eyes that most intrigued him. This was a woman used to getting what she wanted. And based on the look she was giving Samson, she wanted him.

"Privyet," he said sticking out his hand, "My name is Samson Grey."

She gave him a sly smile as she took his hand.

"Olga," she said.

She then looked back out to the crowd with her bored expression, clearly fishing for more.

"I really like your jacket," Samson tried again.

"Is last year," Olga said, "Embassy party is not, how you say, fashion show."

She made a conspicuous show of removing the jacket, giving Samson a beautiful show of even more of her mammoth mammaries.

"What do you do, Olga?"

"Ah, I say I do... entertainment."

"Entertainment?" she chuckled, "you must be good, get invited to this party."

"Men find me ochen- no, very entertaining."

After a long silence she added, almost hesitantly, "parties bore me."

"What would you rather be doing?" Samson pressed.

"Hmm... how do you say..." she ran her hand up her neck in mild frustration, looking for the right word, "aerobics, da."

His eyes grew ever-so-slightly wider at her response.

"Oh, cool," was all that came to Samson's mind, "would you be interested in, aha, an exercise partner?"

Samson honestly didn't know what was going on. Maybe this sex-spree had actually worn off on him. Regardless, he felt like riding this wave as far as it took him. Which seemed to be somewhere, given Olga's reaction.