Conflicted Ch. 11

"Good evening, I'm Clara, I'll be serving you today. Let me show you your table."

Leslie walked through the restaurant, focusing on the woman leading her to her seat, rather than looking around to see people staring at her; at least the carpet dulled her heels, so she wasn't likely to attract the attention of anyone not already looking in her direction. She held her skirt down with one hand as she walked, using her other hand to quickly readjust her top whenever on of her breasts threatened to jiggle a nipple free.

The waitress smiled and gestured towards a few tables near the back, all of which were unoccupied and would have given them a lot of privacy. Leslie went over to the table with no nearby neighbouring tables, so they would have the guarantee of piracy through the evening. It also had the added benefit of being visible from most of the restaurant; Leslie was feeling more daring having walked around in her dress now, and she was keen for people to see her on a date with her son's bully. The tablecloth was half length, so Leslie was unlikely to accidentally flash anyone her naked crotch but her shoes and feet were still visible, including her ankle tattoo. Her chair was one of those with an opening on the lower back, so people behind her would also see her fake tattoo.

Clara asked if they needed a few minutes for drinks, but Leslie excitably asked for wine to share and waited impatiently for the waitress to 'let them decide what to eat'. As soon as the chirpy woman walked away, Leslie slid her right foot, which was next to the wall, out of its shoe and extended it until it found Stuart's crotch.

"Fuck Leslie, I'm not surprised..." he gasped, trying to focus on his menu.

"Shame it's not a floor length cloth, otherwise I could have 'dropped my pen'," she said, giggling.

"God... you're wild today... II have no idea what you're going to do next..."

Leslie bit her lip, and then ran her left hand down the inside edge of her top's cleavage, until it reached her nipple. She pulled the top just far enough to the side to expose her nipple, and with her other hand, she pinched it and gasped, before concealing herself gain.

She was pleased to feel Stuart's cock was hardening, and he fiddled with it a couple of times to make sure it was , Leslie looked down at her menu and said, "I think I'll have the mussel and saffron soup."

Leslie enjoyed the subtle change in Stuart's breathing, just a little heavier than normal, as she still massaged his cock with her foot. Trying to hide his arousal, he responded to her, "I think I'll just go with the steak."

"Such a bloke aren't you..."

"It's the simplest choice to make right now, because it fucking hard to concentrate, with you being such a slut."

"I'm always a slut around you though," she said grinning.

Clara came back, just as Stuart had finished telling her she's sluttier than she's ever been. Leslie didn't let up her foot job, but both of them turned to Anna, who had no idea what was happening, though, Leslie thought she might have been able to guess based on Stuart's slightly distracted demeanour and Leslie's incredibly provocative dress, and Leslie agreed to 'taste the wine'. She never really understood what she was supposed to do, but she took her time to savour the wine, before she nodded to the waitress and said thanks. Leslie smirked at Stuart and then carefully pulled her foot back and slid it back into the heel, allowing both of them to order without distraction.

Just as Anna was about to leave, Leslie asked her to wait for a minute, and then went into her bag to find her phone.

"Would you mind taking a quick photo of us?"

The waitress politely agreed and took Leslie's phone, waiting for the couple to ready their pose; Leslie held her hands out in front of her, and Stuart took the cue to take them in his. Clara took a few shots then handed back the phone to an enthusiastic Leslie.

"Shame I have to keep these secret, they're such good photos," said Leslie, sounding slightly disappointed at first but perking up as she continued, "However, it's a commemoration of our first proper date!"

She handed the phone to Stuart, who swiped through a few photos before groaning, "Fuck's sake."

"What? What's wrong? Don't you like them?"

"Oh yeah, they're great, it's just the little dickhead texted you. I didn't see what about, but he wanted something."

"Oh? Is that all? I'll just ignore him," replied Leslie, casually, as she took the phone, but she very briefly scanned it for any keywords that could indicate an emergency; there weren't any.

She put the phone down on the table and had a sip of her wine when her phone buzzed again.

'Mum. it says you've read it, can you just reply?'

"God, it's like the bathroom stall again," sighed Leslie, "Just wish I could tell him to fuck off."

"Do it!"

"No... you know that's not happening..."

"Worth the ask. You could just change his contact name to 'Little Dickhead', might make you feel better about being disturbed."

'That would be so bad...' thought Leslie as she opened 'Contacts'.

She put her phone back down on the table just as it vibrated again. She smiled and turned it around to face Stuart.

"Nice!" he exclaimed, as he saw the new notification.

The message 'Fine ill ask dad' came up under the contact name "Fuck off stupid little cunt".

"That's enough about the cunt," said Leslie, flipping her phone over, "Let's talk about something else."

Leslie and Stuart talked about a range of subjects from TV to her work, as well as more explicit things like nipple rings and what was the most public place Leslie could get away with giving Stuart a blowjob. Stuart and Leslie both took a few more photos of each other, including a couple where Leslie flashed her nipple again. Lewis, referenced still as cunt and dickhead, only came up in conversation a couple of times over the course of dinner, first during a conversation about a TV program;

"Nah, I gave up on watching it after Season 3 or 4, I couldn't stand Ted's character," complained Stuart.

"What do you mean?"

"He was just pathetic at times, sometimes nearly as bad as the little dickhead."

"Oh come on! He's not that bad!"

"Who? Ted or Dickhead?"

"The fucking cunt is obviously much worse," said Leslie, playing up her incredulous tone, the alcohol dulling whatever vestiges of empathy for her son she had left, "I'm disappointed you had to ask."

The second time was when another text came from Lewis, after the couple had broken open their second bottle of wine; Leslie's compulsion to check if it was important was gone now;

"You should definitely text him 'fuck off'," suggested Stuart.

"You know I want to," she responded, not lying, "but that's just too bad an idea... besides, if I was going to do that, I think we could do better than just a text."

"Like what?"

Leslie picked up Stuart's phone from the table and put it in his hand. He pointed it at her, as she casually drew her top to the side to show a nipple and then held her middle finger up as she mouthed 'fuck off cunt'.

"You'd send it, of course," she said, matter-of-factly, and then withheld a smirk when Stuart's mouth fell open.

The couple finished their meal and Stuart was pouring out the last of the second bottle of wine when Leslie heard a familiar voice say her name. Leslie couldn't believe it, but her colleague Anne walked up to their table and Leslie's stomach plummeted to the floor. Her alcohol muddled brain caught up with her initial instinctive reaction and it had and instantly sobering effect.

"Hi Anne... oh... uh... and... hi Joe..." stuttered Leslie.

"Hi Leslie, funny coincidence seeing you here," replied Anne's husband, looking a little confused.

"Joe, I think the parking voucher might expired, do you want to go check it out? I'll come meet you in a few minutes."

Joe mumbled a goodbye to Leslie, leaving just Anne with the illicit couple. Leslie turned out from her chair, awkwardly tugging at her incredibly short dress, very nervous of flashing Anne as she got up from the chair. She took a second to steady herself, the wine and the trashy shoes not doing much for her balance, but then she smiled anxiously at Anne, trying desperately to pretend this was just normal.

"I saw you as we were getting up to leave, and I didn't notice who your company was until I came over," explained Anne, looking at Stuart briefly, who gave an uncomfortable smile.

Leslie stepped a little bit further away from the table, feeling incredibly exposed, both physically and mentally,but she didn't want to talk about Stuart whilst he was right next to them.

"Uh... I... he's... that's my..." struggled Leslie, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for who Stuart could be.

"I've seen your son, from your Facebook," interrupted Anne.

It wasn't lost on Leslie that she said 'son' and not 'husband'.

"Even if I hadn't... I wouldn't have expected you to wear such a... dress for dinner with your son," continued Anne, and Leslie could feel her cheeks go red under Anne's judgemental gaze.

Leslie opened her mouth and a gasp came out rather than words.

"Your choices are your choices, and you looked out for me, so I won't say anything to anyone at work, nor would I say anything to your son when he's there for his work experience. Joe's not stupid, but he can be oblivious to the world at times, so and I really don't want to lie, but I'll tell him that he's your son."

Despite Anne's disgruntled expression, Leslie felt relief rising like she had day previously, she had been caught again and got away with it again.. but there was still a problem.

"Thanks Anne, but if he speaks to Lewis at all whilst he's there won't he realise they look different? Even if he doesn't, what if he mentions tonight?"

"I don't think Joe was here long enough to have taken in your... date's face... but if he does ask him,... I'm sorry Leslie, that's your risk to take," said Anne firmly.

Leslie played nervously with the hem of her dress, tugging it down a little, in a vain attempt to feel more covered.

"I haven't told Lewis about it yet... and so I could just not tell him."

"That seems sensible."

"Um..." Leslie uttered, looking over at the table, "Stuart... Stuart could take his place?"

Anne looked over at Stuart and then back to Leslie, "It's a work placement, for kids in college..."

Leslie took a deep breath, "Anne... my boyfriend... he's 18. He's at school with my son. I've been with him for a few months and I want to help him to get to university."

"Eighteen?" Anne's mouth was agape, "Leslie, I think it's just best we can the whole thing..."

"Anne... please? Move the position to my team and then you and Joe won't even have to be involved."

Anne signed, "Fine, but I think we can consider ourselves even now."

Anne left without saying anything else, and Leslie knew her last statement that meant she had lost Anne as a grateful friend, but right now, it didn't matter, she had escaped without consequences, well other than a work placement for Stuart out of it. Leslie, a little shaky with nerves as well as alcohol, pulled her seat around the table so it was diagonally adjacent to Stuart, her teenage boyfriend and classmate of her son, as she confirmed to Anne, and sat down, crossing her legs and drawing her already short skirt further up her bare legs. She took another sigh of relief and leant forward onto the table, her right hand siding forward across the table to grasp Stuart's left.

Stuart took his free hand and rested it on the ample bare skin of Leslie's top leg, caressing her thigh with his thumb as he asked, "Are you ok? What happened?"

Leslie moved the hand of Stuart that she was holding from the table, placing it under her top and straight on her bare breast, completely apathetic to the not insignificant risk that someone would see that, and then leant into him, taking his head in her hands, laying a deep kiss onto him.

"Good then?" grinned Stuart, right hand slipping far up her thigh and left still gently squeezing her breast.

"Yeah,.. I uh...I think I just got you a job for a couple of weeks..."