To get past her was a tight squeeze

I took a date to the ballet during the Christmas season 2002. The girl I took was very cute, but vegetarian, so she did not wear leather or fur.  Instead she wore an embroidered coat of gold satin over a black dress. The theater is always packed full of well-dressed, trendy women. Leather coats were considered very fashionable among people who patronize the fine arts at the time and that night was no exception. There were dozens of ladies in leather coats, more than I can recall. One stood out in particular, though. 

The lobby was very crowded. As we made our way through the crowd I had to squeeze past a remarkable young lady. She was tall, with long straight blond hair, and a pretty face. Her body was voluptuous, and sheathed in a long black leather coat. Four buttons fastened the sleek leather coat tightly around her. Indeed, her coat looked as if it was molded around her curvaceous frame, with hardly a crease in it's glossy

leather surface. A gray scarf around her neck was neatly tucked into the notched collar of her coat. This girl was standing in a group with her friends. To get past her was a tight squeeze. Excusing myself, I laid a hand on her shoulder, noting the buttery softness of her leather sheathed arm. At this close proximity I took in the sight of her in that leather coat that fit perfectly over her rounded breasts and hips. After that I saw her no more.