Stranger in the Night

She saw him. A perfect stranger, his back to her.
The muscles of his thighs and bum were apparent even in the flickering light.
Her eyes glided down to his loafers, then slowly her gaze crept up to the white shirt, most probably Armani, tucked inside the unlawful looking jeans which hugged him like a membrane. Even just looking at his back aroused her senses.
"Must be good to hug him from behind, wrap my arms around those muscled abs, feel his back on my breasts, run my fingers on his beefy chest, lingering, searching," Collette thought.