I catch my reflection in the mirror.

As I walk through the door, and into the entryway, I catch my reflection in a large hall mirror. My dark brown shoulder length hair is perfectly parted in the of my head, and pinned up carefully in a bun. I look every inch the professional I think, despite the fact that I‘m a rather young looking 27. My make up is tastefully done, with just the right amount of eye shadow, mascara, and blush. And I’m wearing the latest color lipstick on my lips. I think I look pretty good; I hope my customer thinks so too.

My heels click on the tiled floor, as I follow the exotic looking women who’s now leading me into her bright, clean kitchen. She’s a little shorter than me, I’d guess about five foot six, the long black hair the ends at her waist. Her skin is a light brown, and I’d guess she’s middle eastern, or maybe east Indian. Her complexion is perfect, and she has a white friendly smile, with dark, expressive brown eyes. As we sit down at the glass topped table, and I begin to set some of the products in my case on top of it, she introduces herself, telling me that her name is Naomi Conner, and that she’s a elementary school teacher who recently moved into the neighborhood, having moved here from South Dakota was she taught on one of the Indian reservations. When I mention her beautiful skin tone and color, and ask if she‘s native, she confirms that she half Dakota.

She goes on to explain that she’s replacing a teacher who’s leaving to teach overseas, but she won’t start until next week. And that she’s unmarried, and really hasn’t yet had the time to make friend with anybody in the neighborhood. Her manner is so friendly and ingratiating that I feel more like I’m talking to a friend than a customer. She’s dressed in a short faded denim skirt that reaches to mid thigh, and a thin, orange v-neck blouse that displays her cleavage very nicely. Her feet are bare, and I notice that the nails are neatly trimmed and manicured, and painted in the same pastel rose color as those on the tips of her fingers.

Along with the typical selection of soaps, bath products, perfumes lotions and other beauty products, I set a catalog on the table that, in addition to our beauty products showcases a line of lingerie. Naomi’s eyes glance at the catalog, pictured on the front is a sexy blonde, dressed in an emerald green teddy with a matching garter belt and sheer black stockings. I’m wearing the same style of thigh high stockings on my legs, beneath my long skirt. Briefly she runs her fingertips across the glossy cover before returning her hand to her lap, and looking up at me with her dark brown eyes.

“So are there any types of beauty aids you have a particular interest in?” I ask.

“I'm always interested in lipstick and gloss, and if you have a good conditioner for my hair I might be interested in that as well” she answers, crossing her legs. And gazing back at the catalog, and then at my ankle.

I go on to show her several products with different shades and characteristics, depending you the user’s type of skin or hair. She leans close to me as I point out different items in the catalog, and her arm and hair brush against me. I shiver slightly, not sure if she even notices. Her hair is soft and smells intoxicating, and her skin is warm and smooth. I hope that I will have me doing more than selling product to her before I am finished. Unexpectedly, she takes a bottle of skin moisturizing lotion from the table and then taking my hand squeezes a small amount on the back of my hand, and begins to rub it across my hand and up the back of my arm; it feels so relaxing, I briefly close my eyes, and then open them to see her staring into my eyes as she releases my hand, and then takes the other and repeats the process.

The lotion is lightly scented to smell like citrus, and Naomi tells me how good it smells, and then just as she lets go of my arm says, “I bet all sorts of people just want to come up and lick you after you put that on your body”