Date night and we’re headed out to one of our favorite pubs. We eat and have a couple of drinks, casually talking and watching the people around us. There’s a game on the TVs over the bar and a crowd is cheering for the home team.

I unbutton the third button on my blouse, leaning forward just a bit so you can see the merest glimpse of purple lace. Knowing full well that I have you distracted, I start asking random questions, changing the subject midway through a sentence and generally try to get you flustered.

Being hidden in a booth, I unbutton another one, keeping it closed enough that no one but you can see anything. You take a drink and look down and back up at my face. Your expression wavers between apprehension and anticipation.

I order another drink and sit back, still flipping conversations and questions to keep you off balance. By now, you have resigned yourself to the fact that I am just going to tease you all night and decide to play along. You keep an eye on my cleavage while trying to keep up with my verbal games.

Finishing up, I slowly button up one and then the next. You are paying the bill when I get up to go to the restroom. I bend over directly in front of you to grab my purse, making sure you get an eyeful of my ass and wiggle it just a bit.

On the way home, we sing to the radio and chat. I know that in your head you are still seeing that purple lace and my butt. We park the car, head inside and you check your watch. “It’s 8–bathtime,” you say.

I slowly shake my head and kick off my boots one at a time. Next to come off was the blouse, again one button at a time. The jeans get unbuttoned slowly and discarded on the floor. I watch you watching me as I reveal all of the purple lace.

• 

• 

“What’s that saying? Something about ‘If her panties match her bra when you take her clothes off, it wasn’t you who decided to have sex.'” I smirk as I head towards the bedroom.