Jane was already seated when Paul arrived at the restaurant. It was her first date since her recent divorce and she had arrived early. She was wearing a thin summer dress, low cut and flowery, the sort Paul liked. Paul, for his part, knew he would spend most of the evening imagining what underwear she had on. Summer dresses had that effect on him. He knew she was wearing a black bra, he could see the straps peeping out from her shoulders, so the question was whether she was wearing black knickers too. The thought was almost too much to have to bear for the entire evening, he had to know. But then if he knew, he would be thinking about her pussy tucked inside those black knickers, and that would be torture too. So he determined to think about food instead.
His plan fell apart almost immediately.
"I'm wearing black knickers," she whispered to him, touching his hand with hers. "And bra."
He stared at her.
"You're the only person in this entire restaurant who knows." She grinned at him.
"They're lacy at the back and front, with a nice cotton gusset. I hate that word. Gusset. Sounds so..... old. Isn't there a better word? The part where the pussy touches the knickers, you know, where we...."and she lowered her voice even more... "leave our pussy stains...."and she grinned again, wrinkling her nose.
Paul was speechless. His cock was rock hard, but he could find no words.
"Wine?" she said.
Paul reverted to the inconsequential. "Lovely," he said. He opened the wine list and pretended to take an interest, but his mind was elsewhere. Between Jane's legs to be precise. He was imagining her black knickers, pulled in tight around her pussy. And her pussy, pressed flat against the cotton of the knickers. How long had she had them on? Did she put them on specifically for their date, or had she been wearing them all day, in which case they would be heavily scented and might even carry some stains he could lick..... but his thoughts were interrupted.
"I'd prefer white. What do you want?"
"White's good. I like white. I love white. White's my favourite. White is .... fine." He smiled.
"Are you okay, Paul?" As she spoke Jane put her hand to her shoulder and adjusted her bra strap, pushing it under the material of her dress. It was an unconscious movement, one women do all the time, but Paul thought it was the sexiest thing he had even seen. Until, that was, the next thing she did. She decided to pull her hair back, so she raised both her arms to grab her long dark hair, and in doing so exposed her underarms to Paul's eyes. He suddenly felt weak. She held her arms up at the back of her head as she spoke again.
"Paul? Are you alright? You've hardly said a thing since I've been here. Is anything the matter?"
Paul stared at her.
"You......" He stopped. He took a deep breath. He took another deep breath.
"You're scaring me now. Say something. Paul?"
He suddenly stood up. "I need some air, feeling a little odd, it's okay, I won't be a moment." And he edged his way around the table and past Jane. "Order wine," he said.
"Paul..." she started.
She looked him up and down, and in a moment her expression changed. She smiled. Paul strode off quickly and went out through the front door to the street, where he stood taking deep breaths. He paced up and down on the pavement in front of the restaurant.
Get a grip! Get a grip! You're with the sexiest girl on the planet and you're behaving like a muppet. She's told you about her knickers, that has to be a good sign. Most girls don't do that. Or do they? No, they don't. I'm sure they don't. No, of course they don't. So, that's good, isn't it? Just be..... cool. Normal. Just act normal.
After a few more paces and a lot more deep breaths, Paul decided to go back inside and be normal. Be his normal self, have some wine, chat with Jane, make her laugh, order some food, just be normal, have a nice meal. Easy really. Just be normal.
He returned to his seat. Jane watched him sit down.
"Better?"
Paul nodded. "Much, thank you."
