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The conversation flows. We are hitting it off. You are even laughing at my jokes. You place your hand on my knee as you laugh. I lean towards you as I reach for the wine list and place my hand on your thigh. You do not protest. You are wearing a dress that falls just above your knees. It has ridden up a little as you sat down. I feel the smoothness of your silk encased legs. My hand moves higher.Suddenly, I feel soft skin. You are wearing stockings, not pantyhose. How did you know? It just drives me wild. I caress your leg and move higher as we continue to talk about everything and nothing at all. I reach the hem of your boy shorts as the waiter comes to take our order. You assume I will stop since someone is here, but I order for the both of us as my hand continues its journey. I reach your center and you are soaking wet. I caress your slit through the fabric of your panties as I look directly at the waiter as I order. You are biting your lip. I tease you by asking you if you want. Jenn joined me, and we merged in with the crowds. We were walking awayfrom where the car was parked, and she seemed to just want me to getused to being among people dressed as I was. My confidence grew as Iencountered no further embarrassing moments. Occasionally, She wouldlead me over to a shop window and point out a dress or other femininegarment that she liked, and ask my opinion of it as if I would like towear it. I couldn't decide whether this was teasing, or a deliberatemove to put me more at ease.We eventually reached Marble Arch, and Jenn led me into the tubestation. She decided that it was too long a walk back to the car, so wewould ride the tube back to Oxford Street station, from where it wouldbe a short walk back to the car. We got our tickets and descended to theCentral Line platform. It was crowded, and when a train arrived, we hadto stand in quite a crush. I hung onto a strap, and once the train wasmoving, I felt a hand stroking my bottom through my mac. I turned.
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