Panties

We were sitting at the table at our "getting to know one another" meeting when he excused himself to go say hello to a customer. My wife kicked my leg, looked down. I followed her eyes, saw her red thong panties around her foot. "Heather," I gasped.

"Take them," she said, "hurry up, before he gets back."

I reached down, snagged her panties, stuffed them in my pocket. "What...what are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm not going to need those anymore tonight," she said, smiling at me. "Hurry up, he's coming back."

"What's going on?" he asked when he got back to the table.

"N...nothing," I stammered.

She took a sip of her wine, smiled at him. "He's got my panties," she said.

"Your panties?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I...I slipped them off and asked him to hold them," she said.

"Why?" he asked.

"I'm not going to need panties where I'm going tonight," she said.

"Where's that?" he laughed. 

"Up to your hotel room," she said, looking down.

He smiled at her, at me. "Guess this went well," he said.

She nodded, looked at me. "Hon, be sure to hand wash those when you get home, I may have kind of leaked on them."

I saw him look at me, waiting. "Y...yes, Ma'am," I said to his smile.

"Such a good boy," she said, touching my arm, at the same time sliding closer to him.