I had been dating my girlfriend for about three months, when we went to dinner at a restaurant near my home. We both knew she was going to spend the night, so it was no secret when she put a little overnight bag in the car. Her housemate would take care of her daughter overnight. Eve would certainly return the favor soon enough. Finding these little restaurants -- dives on the outside but really nice inside with excellent food -- was her specialty. The smells of the Italian food filled the place as we entered, her in a dress, and me in a jacket and open shirt.
We were seated in a corner booth, and given menus. Since we were both likely to get something with garlic, I didn’t worry about my breath, and certainly didn’t think it would be a problem regardless. The many times we had found ourselves in bed had been so wild and hot, that I didn’t think a little thing like garlic breath would make much of a difference. When the waiter returned, we ordered drinks and appetizers, and asked him to return in a few minutes for a formal entrée order. While I sat with her, I noticed she kept feeling lightly around her neck and throat, only highlighting the little bit of cleavage I could see. She had the biggest juiciest tits I had ever sucked, and she could never really hide their size, no matter what she wore. I liked that.
We finally gave our order, and shortly afterwards had my soup and her salad delivered. As we started, she said.
“I have a question -- I want to see how smart you are.” She gave me a naughty wink.
I looked up briefly and smiled. Slowly, I said “Shoot.”
She spread a little of her dressing on her salad.
“Well, other than my shoes, I wonder if you know what four articles of clothing I have on.” I was game, so I said. “Let me guess.” I reached over and stroked the back of her hand.
“I suppose the obvious, is, bra, panties, panty hose and your dress.” She smiled. Before she could say anything else, I asked
“Do I get anything if I guessed right” She smiled again.
“You got it wrong.” I feigned being hurt and lowered my eyes.
“I guess that means you’re going to get something rather than me, doesn’t it?”
She lowered her eyes to look at mine, and stared right through me.
“Babe, you’ve not going to mind either way.” By this time, I was hard as a rock, something she can always do even without trying. I continued.
“Well,” I said, “If I got it wrong, then tell me the answer,” adding “I can take it.”
She sat up again, slightly thrusting out her chest. “I’m wearing a bustier, garter belt, stockings and dress.” I would have said that each stocking counted as a single article of clothing, but no matter. “Which means….” she added. “I’m not wearing any panties -- I hope that’s alright.”