“That’ll be fine.” I answered, not caring much one way or the other.“You take single-malt on the rocks, as I recall.”“You recall correctly,” I answered, wondering from where she recalled that esoteric fact.Handing me a heavy crystal glass with a token ice cube and a good measure of an old single malt, she made herself an equally strong drink. I’d never seen her drink anything at the club. Liquid courage?I watched her move as she assembled the drinks. Her blouse was sheer and I could see the lace of her bra beneath it. Her breasts bounced a little when she walked. When I looked up and made eye contact, she was watching me. ‘Damn, busted again,’ I thought. That’s why I didn’t want to be alone with her.She seemed nervous. “Your drink OK?” she asked.“Not much bad you can do to good scotch over an ice cube,” I quipped.She didn’t smile. I doubt she’d really heard my reply. “As I was saying,” she started again, “I’ve been cool to you without cause and I want to apologize.”I tried to look. ” “Of course! What kind of woman do you think I am,” she giggled. Trevor felt terrible. Had she thought that he was suggesting sex! He wanted to explain that he never thought anything of the kind but, before he could stutter an apology she had linked her arm through his and they were walking down the main street to her house. Trevor sat in the arm chair, hands around his coffee cup and taking it all in. He was in her house. She had actually invited him. Chrissie came out of the kitchen, put down her coffee cup and collapsed on the sofa. Bringing her knees up, she removed her stilettos and rubbed her feet. “Ooh that’s better.” The sight of Chrissie on the sofa rubbing her feet was beginning to make Trevor aroused. He felt guilty. This was a first date and he didn’t want anything to spoil his chances of seeing her again. He tried to avoid staring at her legs but, as she made herself comfortable her dress rode up revealing her top of her stockings. Trevor couldn’t stand it any longer. He.
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