A few years ago, I (f) often traveled for work and would naturally call a friend for lunch as I passed through town. I (f) am 5’4”, curvy, big ass, natural C tits, dark hair, late 20s. He’s 5’10”, dark hair, broad shoulders, early 30s.
One hot summer day, I phoned my long-time friend (m), who was in the real estate business, and asked if he’d like to meet for lunch, that I was passing through town. He quickly agreed and he suggested we meet at one of those up-and-coming restaurants for a late lunch.
After I parked, I took my time checking my lipstick and outfit (for as much as I could see) in the car mirror; I wanted to be sure he was seated and waiting for me. I wanted him to get a full view as I walked through the door, fashionably late of course. As I walked through the door, I barely heard the hostess ask me to wait as I waltzed by her; my heart skipped a beat as I saw my friend waiting for me. Making every effort to look cool, calm, and collected, I told her that my date was waiting and took a breath as I made every effort to let my body convey how hot I was for him beneath my sundress as I approached the table.