May I Have...

Just knocked this out in a about an hour. Something to pass the time. If you'd like to see another part, please send feedback.

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I don't know why I did it, but I am sure glad that I did. Put a little steel in my spine, a bit of glare in my eyes and politely asked "Will you take go to the bathroom and take off your panties?". The looks on her face was priceless, the shock so visible that I almost just said 'Forget it, it was only a joke', but I didn't. I held her gaze as realization crept onto her face.

Yes, I did hear him right. He actually asked me to take my panties off

. As I saw this, the lump forming in my throat dissolved, but the thundering of my heart sped up as she gave a soft smile and left the table.

A few minutes later she returns, her heels giving her hips a hypnotic sway. I wonder how much of that is due to my imagination, knowing that under that skirt she wears... nothing. I know she has done as I asked, from the way her bright eyes dart about, wondering if anyone can see, but no one can. It is our little secret. She sits so carefully, smoothing the blue plaid skirt as she demurely crosses her legs.

She speaks, her balled fist reaching over the table. The waiter arrives and she freezes, almost jerking her hand back as if she had burned it. I clasp it, covering it with my own as the waiter asks for our order. If he notices anything strange, he doesn't show it. We order quickly, the blush I know is rising on her neck hidden by the shifting candlelight. When the waiter is gone I remove my hand, but hers remains.

"Do you want them?," she asks plainly. Not a hint of humor or deception.

"I only wanted you to remove them to start your mind up, not as some sort of control thing."

"Oh." She looks a little disappointed, but I have a plan in mind that doesn't include that kind of play. Maybe some other time.

She puts them in her purse, out of site. We have a few minutes before our food will come out, a few minutes to play.

"Why did you do it?," I inquired, honestly curious. We had never played this way before, or even discussed it.

"Because you shocked me, and when I thought about it, I was afraid to do it."

I smile. "I am exactly the same way. If it scares you, do it. Fear is intolerable when the source can be confronted."

Her soft sigh is reply enough. "Was anyone in the bathroom?"

I love her sly little smirks. "Of course. The little brunette who took them off for me. Right now I can feel the wet kisses she gave me on my thighs. She gave me her number, and an invitation."

My turn to be shocked, but she can't hold the serious pose long enough and laughs. I chuckle and ask again. "No, no one."

"How did you feel, when you walked out?"

She closes her eyes to picture the scene- "Like everyone was staring at me. When I looked around, of course no one was. Then I felt a flush as I saw you. When our eyes met, it was like we were both saying the same thing." She leans in, speaking in a prison whisper "

We have a secret.

"

"I thought the same thing."

"That kind of made me move, I felt kind of above everything. Like it was only us here. So I walked for you."

"It was damned sexy."

The topic moves to our food, the restaurant, even her wine. I never have been a wine drinker, but she likes the sweeter wine. Our food arrives, and as we eat we speak of many things, but not sex. Just the occasional glance or raised eyebrow to remind ourselves. The meal is wonderful, her company even greater. She is so beautiful sometimes I wonder what she id doing with me. But now is no time for a lack of confidence. Our plates are cleared away just before the waiter returns to ask if we would like dessert. Before she can say no, I order a tiramisu.

"We'll share."

"No problem sir," he replies. "I'll have our server bring that right out to you."

Another incredulous look, but she acquiesces and stands. Before she can move her chair, I spring up and do it instead. The laugh dies in her throat, but it struggles for life. She sits before she crosses her legs, my hand finds a new home. Her sigh is almost like that of a mother, exasperation combined with resignation.

Her silky thighs are warm, even with my hand just resting atop them I can feel their heat. I am sure she expects some further action but I do nothing. Another few moments of small talk over dessert and coffee. I can feel her legs clenching, but my hand is steady.

She whispers shyly in my ear. "I am so wet. I can't take a deep breath, my body keeps anticipating... something. Anything."

"What kind of something?" I feign innocence. Sometimes subtlety pays.

"I though this wasn't a control thing. You want me to beg?"

I look straight at her then. "No, I would like you to be comfortable enough with em to ASK for what you want."

She exhales slowly. "Touch me. Please."

So my fingers, guided by hers slide themselves over bare thighs to her shaven sex. My small gasp is not small enough.

"You aren't the only one who can come up with surprises.," she smirks. Wet slippery warmth clings to my fingers as I leave a trail on her skin. Slowly I bring those fingers to my lips, the taste and smell of her so sweet. Tangy, salty and sweet, her musk lingers for hours after she has left my bed. But here it only tantalizes with promises of what is to come. I quickly pay our bill and we hurry as fast as we can to the car without actually running.