I admonished myself without impunity, turned around, and pulled into the lot.
Shit. She was already there. I could see Ashley sitting in a booth by the window with a clear view of the lot, and she saw me the moment I rolled in. She jumped up, tossed a salutation to the girl behind the counter, and walked purposefully to the door of the restaurant as I got out in preparation to open the car door for her. Cos that’s the way my momma raised me.
When she exited the restaurant, I almost stumbled. She was wearing a deep ocean blue, floral print, spaghetti strap. backless dress that covered her to down to mid thigh, and afforded a clear view of her cleavage. It fit somewhat loosely, but still showed off her Venusian figure. And the same combat boots from last night. How does she pull that off? Her shape appeared to have been made for the outfit. Then again, so it also seemed for the outfit she had worn the night before. She was carrying a small, black leather hand purse as she raced to me with the bright smile I’d looked forward to all evening, and she reached me before I’d even made it to the front of my car.
She lunged at me, both arms outstretched, and I had no choice but to catch her. She hugged me tightly, and I knew there was no way she could not feel the growing bulge in my shorts.
“Hey, you,” she exclaimed. She was starting to either scare or excite me with her seemingly reckless abandon, but I couldn’t tell which. Was it that which left me uneasy? She seemed simultaneously carefree and in complete control. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
“Hey, Girlie, how are you doing?” I spun her around in the air until I could feel her grasp on me loosen, then I carried her, just like that, to her side of the car. I set her down and bent over to open her door.
Ashley whispered in my ear, “I’ve been thinking about you.”
What the hell just happened? I was lost. This bouncy, carefree girl had just flipped a switch, and became Supervixen, like Clark Kent in a goddamned phone booth.
I was sharp, though. She had started the game of her own free will, and done so quite assertively, so without missing a beat, I stood back up and whispered back into her ear, “Oh really? Well, I have something for you.”
She looked me in the eye. “What’s that?”
“I have your t-shirt. Do you want it back?”
For some reason, this question puzzled her. “Okay?” I knew I had her.
“I’ll trade you,” confident as I’d ever been, because I was about to assume absolute control.
“What do you want for them?”
I looked at her plainly and said, “Give me your panties.”
The heartbeat in my head was deafening, and I found myself praying that I would not break a sweat as she looked me in the eye for several seconds, perhaps because she was attempting to ascertain if I was serious, Which I most certainly was. Then, without breaking eye contact, Ashley reached up under her dress, slid a blue thong down her legs in one swift movement, and rested one hand on her waist while the other dangled the flimsy article in the air by her index finger for all the world to witness.
I smiled a smile of satisfaction, still keeping eye contact. Inwardly, I was trying to figure out who was winning. I let her maintain that pose for several seconds, still waiting for her composure to break. And I waited. And I waited, my erection ever growing.
She didn’t flinch. She didn’t even blink.
After satisfying myself that I’d won our little standoff (and I’d done no such thing; it was a draw at best), I carefully reached up and wrapped my fingers around her outstretched hand, slowly taking from her the offered bounty. I gently wrapped the already slightly damp thong around itself and put the thing in the pocket of my cargo shorts.
With that, I pulled her t-shirt from behind what would soon be her seat, and offered it to her, to which she smiled triumphantly, and said, “Thank you.” She was so damned playful, and I loved it.
To that end, I said, “It’s my pleasure.” She smiled at that. “Shall we go?”
The switch flipped, and Superman was Clark Kent again. In a brief instant, her posture relaxed and she dropped her arm to her side. She bounced lightly, and exclaimed with almost childlike glee, “Yay,” as if we hadn’t just made the most lascivious spectacles of ourselves in the parking lot of a fucking Waffle House. I opened her door for her, and she slipped into the seat as if it belonged to her.
I closed the door and made it to the rear of car before I heard her cry, “Oo, I LOVE your handcuffs! Are they real?” She was referring to the ones hanging from my rearview mirror.
“Oh, you know they are.” Of course they were real. I had stopped dipping my toe into bondage and domination; I dove into the deep end whenever and wherever the opportunity presented itself. The cuffs were police-grade, hardened steel with a secondary locking mechanism to prevent picking. “I have the matching leg irons in the trunk,” I told her, which I did, in a leather duffle, with an assortment of various other tools and toys, but I didn’t volunteer that part, as I did not want to scare her. “I don’t mess around with the kids’ stuff.”
She playfully feigned fear. “Oh, should I be scared?”
Reassuringly, I offered, “Well, that depends on what you’re into, now doesn’t it?” By this time I had opened my door and was reclining into my seat.
She just smiled knowingly at me and said, “I guess it does.”
I fired the engine. “So, where do you want to go?” I was genuinely interested to see where she wanted to take us.
“Just drive on, Jeeves,” she quipped, and I did as she took my handcuffs from the mirror and started fiddling with them.
Once we were out on the road, only a few moments of silence passed before she spoke. “So, are you from Lexington originally?”
I found it interesting that she’d go from handing me her panties to asking about my origins so easily. “No, actually. I’m from Denver originally. My parents moved me here when I was a kid, and I just kinda stuck around. You?”
“Born and bred. As soon as I graduate, I’m moving to Cincinnati.”
“Really? Why Cincy?” I found myself genuinely interested.
“I’ve got some friends there and they love it. And the music scene is supposed to be pretty good there, too. Do you have the key?”
Her question threw me off a bit, because I didn’t know what she was talking about. “Key to what?”
“The key to these handcuffs.”
I quickly looked to find she had handcuffed her wrists together, and I knew what she wanted.
I laughed briefly. “I do have the key, but it is attached to my key ring, which is currently attached to the car.”
She exaggerated a sigh in mock resignation. “I guess I’ll just have to wait until we get where we’re going, then.”
“I guess so,” as I laid my right hand high on her bare thigh, with my fingers nestled neatly and deeply between her legs, and my erection began rapidly trying to re-manifest itself within the confines of my cargo shorts.
I glanced over again to find her looking at me, her lips pursed in the most mischievous smile I’d ever seen. I looked back to the road, and felt her now cuffed hands come to rest on my arm. She then parted her legs, and guided my hand directly to her hairless sex. My god, she was just as aggressive as I was, and my erection was becoming painful.