It's all in the Blouse

The more I enjoy the polluted air and loud horns, more my heart was weeping for the lady on the sidewalk. She looked befuddled and miserable.
Was she new to the big city and mislaid from her family?
Got here to change her fortunes?
Find work; keep the army of hungry stomachs at least half full?
or was she waiting for the pledged time and place by the illusive lover boy?
or evaded from the clutches of her evil uncle, who's wife mistreats her and he; he takes advantage of her?

Flood of humanitarian thoughts overcome my instincts as a pervert, and I forget to notice her bodily bliss, especially below her neck; that huge bulge in her Blouse. Standing across the road, close to the bridge waiting for my friend, staring at her and fanning distort thoughts that clogged my women deprived mind, I was having my share of sweet time. Once in a while my eye strays towards her face; and comes back the deluge of “feeling sorry for her".

As minutes pass, a young man approaches her; no smiles just a cold stare. She stays unmoving with an air of ignorance. Staying close to her, the guy and she have a brief conversation after which, he pass her some money and she digs in to the depths of her Blouse, drawing a small packet. He happily strides away with the lil packet revealed from the divine depths; leaving the lady where she was with the bulge in her Blouse.
Thank you very much. The man stays intoxicated for the nite; and the bulge, ah the bulge works…... as always.

[how did I know about the packet????? hmmm.... who do you think the friend is, I was waiting for!]