Dinner Date
Our table, a small round metal table for two, positions us close and as we discuss the menu and what wine would pair well with our entrees I feel your warm hand slide up my inner thigh. The metal is cold, as is the breeze, and the contrast from the warmth of your hand causes my nipples to perk and show faintly through my silky dress. Your eyes are drawn, I can feel them on me, but I decide not to acnowledge. We choose a sweet white sparkling wine and drink with abandon as we enjoy each...