It was the perfect date. From the moment he pulled up to pick me up and I watched his eyes brighten when he saw me in my sundress. The kind of date where time simultaneously flew by and stood still. We ended up closing the place out and the server had to ask us to leave. Every word electric and every seemingly innocent touch leaving me lightheaded. The smirk you gave when I brushed my heel along your calf. My shudder when you brushed your long fingers across my bare arm. All of the hurried glances at my smooth legs, long hair, and my breasts, no doubt trying to determine if I’m wearing a bra or not. I’m not.
I’ve snuck my share of looks as well. The rolled up sleeves revealing brawny forearms, the shirt straining to span your shoulders, a tantalizing imprint against your thigh when you bend to sit down. It’s been a while since I’ve gone on a first date and even longer since I had one this exhilarating.