One Date

 

You walked into the bedroom, gasped as you saw your girlfriend stepping into the pink gown. She wasn't wearing a bra, was pulling the gown up over nude stockings, panties, a garter belt. "Fuck, Jenna, you...you're wearing stockings?"

"What? Oh, these? Yea, I...he always liked them when we were dating," she said, "he always had a thing for me in pretty lingerie, stockings particularly drove him wild with lust."

"Jenna..." She was going to a charity dinner with her ex-boyfriend; he's just moved to town and didn't know anyone and the dinner was date required.

"Hon, that was like two years."

"I just...I just don't understand why you want to go to this charity dinner with him? I mean...didn't you say he still has feelings for you?"

She chuckled. "The only feelings he has are the ones that come out of his big, thick cock." You looked down, face red. "Sorry, sorry," she quickly said, knowing your small penis was a hot button issue for you. "I didn't mean anything..."

"Jenna, guys like him...they...they assume things."

"Assume what things?" she asked, pulling the strapless dress up over her bare breasts.

"I mean...If he sees you're wearing stockings, he's going to assume you...you're...available."

She shrugged. "It's just one date," she said.

Your eyes went wide. "Date? You mean one dinner."

She shrugged. "Sure," she said, "one dinner."

"Wait, does...does he think it's a date?" you asked. She said nothing. "He knows you have a boyfriend, right?" you asked.

She looked looked over at you. "What?" she asked, innocent.

"I said he knows you have a boyfriend, right?"

"I mean...he knows I'm seeing someone," she said.

She sat, arranged the hem of her dress, in doing so, inadvertently exposed the top of her stocking.

"You told him you're seeing someone or that you have a boyfriend?"

"I guess seeing someone," she said, "what's the difference."

"The difference is he assumes you're fair game," you swallowed.

"It's just one date," she said again. "Dinner, some dancing..."

"And when he sees you dressed like that, I mean, dancing, when he touches your back...he's going to think you're available, Jenna."

"You said that," she said.

"He's going to expect to...to..."

"Like old times?"

"Jenna!"

"Listen, I mean, you know...as much as I like how you...pamper me with that magical tongue...sometimes I miss just being...taken."

"J...Jenna..."

"You like when I talk about it in bed," she said, "you always get so turned on."

"That's...I mean...that...that's..."

"You always want to know what it was like with guys I dated...you get so hot and bothered."

"I...I do not," you lied.

"You do," she said, "you do. Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"You know...jerked off thinking about me on a date with him."

"Jenna!"

"Have you?" she asked again, face serious.

You looked down, face red, ashamed. "I...I don't know," you said.

"You know," she said, "you know." 

She lay back, let her dress spread out.

"It's one date," she said, "just one date."

"Just...just one?" you asked.

"Just one," she said, "to start, we'll see where it goes from there."