She was tall, gorgeous, with tussels of shimmering brunette hair, and she batted her eyes as she strolled by, floating on air. She flashed a faint smile and used her soft hand to give her skirt hem a little flip.
She was buxom. She was all woman. She had the men aching.
"Who is that?" I whispered to my friend.
"That's Whokebeina," he said.
I repeated her name with a sigh.
"Word of warning," he said to me. "Do NOT even think about it. Whokebeina is a fire, and many men have been burned."
Still, I tried, and the wreck of my life is all I have to show for that bravery.