My work is very interesting, to say the least. I am one of a handful of risk consultants working for the insurance industry. My tag line is simple: “If it is insurable, I can risk assess it.” I have visited everything from hotels to manufacturing plants, churches and schools, wrecker companies, entertainment venues to construction companies. I have met with Fortune 500 company executives and the small “mom and pop” operations. Recently, I was assigned a batch of small bars to visit. One of the bars was located in a blue collar neighborhood of northwest Dallas. I called ahead of time to arrange the visit. I stepped into the dimly lit Urban Paradise bar at 11am, the prearranged time for my visit. I stood still for a moment to allow my eyes to get adjusted to the darkness of the business. A female voice called out, with a very distinguishable far eastern accent, “Are you the insurance man?” “Yes,” I replied, taking a step towards the voice as my eyes began to focus. “I am June,” the voice called out from behind the bar. As my eyes focused, I could see the form of a very short female, with long black hair, pulled back in a ponytail. “What can I do for you?” June asked as I stepped up to the bar. June was wearing an un-tucked white button-down shirt and some black shorts. Her shirt was unbuttoned just enough to be tantalizing. She was cute, and I could that even though she was short, she was well built. “Well, I need to get some basic information,” I replied, sitting down on a bar stool. I looked around and we were the only two people istanbul travesti in the bar. “OK,” June replied, “Let’s go into the office.” June stepped out from behind the bar and made her way towards a closed door. I followed her into the small office. “Take a seat,” June instructed, motioning for me to sit on the small couch in the office. I sat down, my pen and pad in hand, as June took a seat in front of me on an office chair. The office was very small, so small, that it was almost uncomfortable for me, except that June was easy on the eyes and quite attractive. I asked a few obligatory questions about the business and when it got started. June said that she and her husband owned the business, but that he rarely ever was involved in anything related to the business. “He only marry me because he liked my kimchee,” June said, quickly asking me if I knew what “kimchee” was. I told her that I was familiar with the Spicy Korean dish but that it had been years since I had eaten any kimchee. “Oh, you know Korea?” June asked. “No,” I told her. I had once dated a girl from Korea when I was in the Army. “Oh, you like Korean girl?” June asked with a thick accent. “Yes, I replied,” with a smile, “But only for kimchee.” June laughed. “You are a funny man,” June replied. “Korean women have more to offer than kimchee,” June shot back. “I know,” I replied. As we spoke, June pulled her long hair from the band that held it in place. I did my best to try and remain professional, but June made it difficult. She stood istanbul travesti in front of me, and ran her hands through her hair, massaging her scalp, while looking down at me. June had a perfect body. She was about thirty, or so I am guessing. “What do you want to see?” she asked. “I can show you anything and everything.” “Well,” I replied, “For starters, I need to see your inventory list and determine how the value of the contents in the business.” June sat back down in her chair, leaned forward and opened a filing drawer at her desk. From where I sat, I had a perfect view straight down her shirt. Women with plenty of cleavage really should wear a bra. She fished into the files and handed me several papers. “Can I take some photos of these?” I asked. “Sure,” June responded. She silently watched as I took out my iPhone and snapped photos of the documents. I glanced in her direction only momentarily. Her dark areolas and pointed nipples were clearly visible through the soft cotton fabric of her shirt. I asked to look at her payables. June stood and opened the top drawer of a four drawer filing cabinet. She reached into the filing cabinet, her cute ass only a foot or so away from me. Her shorts were skin tight and about three sizes too small for her. She turned and handed me the paperwork. Instead of sitting in her office chair, she plopped down on the couch right beside me. As I looked at the pages, June leaned in close and remarked, “I don’t keep very good records. I hope you don’t think bad of istanbul travesti me.” I could very easily smell the sweet aroma of her perfume. She took the pages from my hand and quickly thumbed through them to the last page. She sat a clump of the documents to the side and pointed to a line of the last page. “That’s my numbers.” June declared. I took a quick photo of the page after setting it in my lap. “You want to see more,” June pressed. I looked into her large oval brown eyes. She bit down on her lower lip and smiled. “Let me show you everything,” June said, taking my hand in her and pulling me into a standing position and then in to the bar area. She led me hand in hand across the bar to a small closet where there was a sprinkler riser. As she opened the door, she flipped on a light switch which illuminated the room. About that time, the main door opened and we were both bathed in sunlight as a patron entered the bar. June called out, “We are closed. Come at two o’clock.” The man departed as quickly as he had stepped inside. I watched as June stepped to the door and turned the deadbolt. I took some photos of the sprinkler riser, as June made her way back across the bar to where I stood taking photos. I took a step back and took a photo of the pool tables and the bar. “Can I see the photos?” June asked. I flicked back through the series as June stood next to me. “You take great pictures,” June remarked as I flipped through what I had photographed. “Can you take a photo of me?” Normally, I don’t take photos of people on my risk management visit, but since she asked, and she was so cute, I felt obliged. I snapped a quick photo. “No, no, no,” June interrupted, “I wasn’t ready.” “OK,” I replied, “You tell me when you are ready.” June leaned against a pool table and put her hands on the green felt table top behind her.