Peg's Blind Date

My, you're a tall drink of water. Do you mind telling me what's on your menu for tonight?

Yes, I like meat. I haven't had really good meat...hmmm...actually, I haven't had any meat at all...in such a long time. I'm craving it tonight. No, not rare. It has been rare for much too long. And good veggies. I like variety with one prime loin. And it doesn't have to necessarily be a smaller piece of meat. I'm rather ravenous this evening.

Do I look 5'4"? I suppose sitting at your table he would not be able to tell. Him? Oh, my blind date. He chose your restaurant for our first meet -- I guess he's doing rather well; this is a very nice place, very intimate. Maybe if I scoot away from the table a little bit he'll see me.

No, no cocktails, thank you. I don't drink. But he might, a little. I love a man who smells like a good night out, and Paul Sebastian cologne. Yum. Really turns me on.

Sir! Are you looking at my legs or staring up my skirt? Do I need to call the manager? Because you're gawking.... Ohhhhh. , it's my black lace crotchless panties. Aren't they lovely? Do you like the hose and garters, too? I thought so. I chose this slit skirt for his viewing pleasure. I really hoped he might enjoy them. I want him to have easy access to my exceptionally wet cunt. See... I'm also wearing this matching open-cup bra. Well, stand right there in front of me and I'll unbutton my blouse a little. I love the way my bare nipples feel against this silk. No, I don't mind. You may touch. I believe titties should be readily available, don't you?

We were supposed to meet right here, at this table. I told him to look for a blonde, passionate woman with bedroom eyes and a killer smile.

Yes, we met online. He's so funny and witty. Articulate and intelligent. He told me he's over 5'll", almost retired...or did he say he is retired? ... a little overweight, like me. Do you think extra weight gets in the way of great sex? Well, sometimes, maybe. I'm going to the gym again, and someone is helping me lose this weight. No, just 30 pounds. It took a while to put it on, and it will take a while to get it off. But I am focused.

Hmmmmm. Well, I guess he's chickened out. It's tough to be left alone here.

But I digress. You're not the bartender. You have work to do.

The meat? Yes, a nice piece, please. Something tender and juicy. I probably will be unable to take it all in at first, because -- well...you know-- it's been such a long time. I'll have to go slowly, and even allow myself a little patience and understanding. Just place it on the table for me to savor...and pick at...and lick my fingers. Is licking allowed here? I have a right to enjoy something of which I have been deprived -- don't you think?

...four hours later

Okay...gee. So, you're not the waiter and you didn't get flashed. You made the date but forgot the name of the restaurant. Just my luck, huh? And you know, I never did get that piece of meat...not even the veggies.

After I waited for about fifteen minutes, the maitre'd came to my table to apologize. He said my waiter had run out the back door screaming something about going home to take care of personal business -- and he was running like his balls were on fire. Maybe they were.

"J'en suis três desolé, Mam'selle."

I told the maitre'd that I'd kinda lost my appetite, and I really felt somewhat dejected. Not only had my blind date -- YOU -- not shown up, even my waiter rejected me.

The maitre'd had a limo driver come around to the rear entrance (to help me save face), and to drive me home.

And then, while in the back of the limo, I saw the driver staring at me...at my beautiful, full titties...at my legs...straining to see between my thighs and maybe catch a glimpse of my perfect cunt.

So I thought, "Well, hell -- this night's been a bust, anyway!" And I began to take everything off. I slid out of my skirt, first, and sat there in these black, lacey, crotchless panties, garter belt and stockings...with my legs spread. I stared into his face in the rear-view mirror, then licked my fingers and pretended I was going to touch my small patch of peach-colored hair. Instead, I unhooked the nylons from the garters and slid them...oh, so very slowly, down my legs and off the tips of my red painted toes.

The silk blouse was next. I unbuttoned each button -- again, very slowly, like I had all night long -- and kept my eyes locked on his.

He was an older man, too -- like you. What a coincidence. Did I care that he wasn't completely watching the road? Not after the night I'd just had!

The open cup bra -- you know, the one that exposes my nipples? -- came off next, and my breasts fell out. He opened the moon roof, and I tossed each article of clothing out through the top, one at a time.

All I had on was...you know, this beautiful pair of black, so very lacey crotchless panties. I stood in the seat, put the whole top of my body through the moon roof, and waved to all the cars on the road. The night air felt wonderful on my bare titties. I wanted fun!

But then -- damn! -- I heard one of my earrings hit the leather seat. Must have loosened it when I took off the blouse. So I came back into the limo, turned around and bent over to feel around the cushion. The full moon reflected through the roof onto my own white and shiney double moons, tempting that silly limo driver far beyond his professional ability to ignore. He reached over the back of his seat to pet and to play with my luscious alabaster ass and perfect cunt with its dripping honey.

I think he hit a lamp post with the front end of the limo.

I awoke in the emergency room, wearing nothing but a smile beneath my hospital gown. And the EMT stood next to me with his deft fingers playing so softly and expertly with my Mary Jane lips and clit. He looked rather pleased with himself, too. After all, he had saved my life.

So...next time, Fella -- show up for the date.