I was all set to wear a white crochet dress with a red bra and panties set to dinner and then to the bar. I have red stacked heels to match. I knew the bra and panties would show through the dress. That would be great for the bar,but Hubby might squirm a little while I wore it into the restaurant. I'm just mean enough sometimes to enjoy his discomfort. It's all in fun,and he knows what to expect with me most of the time. I manage to surprise him occasionally and that's really fun.
It became apparent before Hubby got to the motel that it was going to rain,so I nixed the plan to wear the white dress. My alternative was an orange jersey maxi dress with a plunging neckline and a high split,no bra or panties and orange cork sole stacked heel sandals. My nails are done with the wet cement that I'm really liking lately. It looks good with almost everything and it's a little out of the ordinary. I wore red almost exclusively for years and I still wear it sometimes,but I wanted to try something different.
It wasn't raining when we left the motel,but it was when we got to the restaurant. We parked as close as we could and I was trying to remember the last time I had my umbrella. I thought it was in the car,but it wasn't. When I have it with me and can put my hands on it I never need it,and when I need it,I don't know where it is.
We waited a while for the rain to stop. It didn't stop,but it slowed to a drizzle,so we went for it. I couldn't walk fast in those heels,so Hubby was holding a denim jacket,the only thing we had in the car,over me to shield me from the rain. That helped,but it wasn't an umbrella. About half way to the door of the restaurant,a black man wearing a dark suit and white shirt stepped beside me and said,"May I",while offering to share his umbrella. I eagerly accepted and thanked him. There were a number of people ahead of us for a table,so we introduced ourselves and immediately found common ground. He was in his forties,an Army Vet,and had attended a friend's funeral. Hubby and I offered our condolences,and our conversation moved on to less weighty matters. We were still engaged in conversation when the hostess asked,"Table for three?" Hubby looked to Wesley for confirmation as I was nodding to him. I had come through the door close to Wesley's side,having shared his umbrella,and I stayed close as we talked. I won't hesitate to move quickly to secure my interests when the momentum's on my side. I was thinking,hoping that what I was going to look for had already found me instead.
That restaurant has booths along two walls and tables in the middle. I was hoping for a booth,but thought it better to take the first seats available at such a busy time. We got a booth and I sat facing Wesley and next to the window.
We talked about places we've been and places we haven't seen,but would like to see. Wesley served in Germany too,but in a different area than we were in. When I told him how disappointed I had been when we didn't get the extra year that we wanted there,he said that he had liked it too,but that he was ready to come home when his time was done. I told him that I gave birth to our only baby while we were there,and that my wish was to have another while we were there and be pregnant when we left. I don't mention that often. It just came out in the flow of the conversation,and of course I didn't tell him that the other babies would've been black. I was really upset for a time afterward,but I've accepted that it didn't happen and that's how it is. Hubby knows I've never blamed him. I know he has always wanted me to have everything I've wanted,but we can't always get that. I'm still very lucky and blessed. I have to say that I do get what I want more often than not,more than most people I think,and I'm grateful for that.
Wesley had all the view he could want of me from my tits up. The orange dress holds my puppies in place without a bra,while leaving them in plain sight. He smiled a lot as we talked,and I was pleased that I was getting positive signals.
We were well into our meal when Wesley asked how long we had been in the lifestyle. I was puzzled by his question for a second before he said he had noticed my earrings. Well,Yeah! Two big Whore Hoops with a spade dangling from one and a Q from the other. I put that stuff on sometimes and forget that I'm wearing it. I also thought my hair concealed the earrings to a degree. Wrong. I had a matching necklace in my purse that I thought might be too conspicuous to wear in the restaurant. I was going to have Hubby put it on for me before going into the bar. It's a mini ritual of sorts.
I got a good laugh at myself,and both men laughed with me. Then I gave Wesley the condensed version that I repeat almost verbatim every time it comes up in conversations like that. "Since before I knew there was a lifestyle. I was a young Army Wife. Hubby was gone more than he was home. Two black roommates across the hallway,then friends of theirs. I got used to it,or addicted if you wish. The cliches fit more than I realized for a long time. I went black and didn't go back,at least not permanently. It is what it is,and I am who I am. That's about all there is to say."
I told Wesley about the bar and our plan to go there,that I had done some pretty wild things there in the past,because of the way the place is laid out and because there are people there who will let me get away with almost anything. Then I asked him if he had any plans for the evening. He paused for a moment before saying that he hadn't made any plans that couldn't be changed,and asked what I had in mind. I told him that I would like him to go with us,either to the bar or straight back to the motel. He said that the bar sounded interesting,and that he might want to check it out some other time,but that the motel sounded better. Then he added that he was tentatively supposed to meet a friend later for drinks,another black man,a friend from his Army days who he was certain would enjoy meeting us too. He couldn't have told me anything I would rather hear than what he had just said. As he was talking,I had slipped my heels off and slowly put my feet on his side of the booth,one on either side of his left leg. I softly pressed my left foot onto the bulge in his pants as he took my right foot in his hand. He smiled as he examined the colorful QOS butterfly on the side of my right foot,the one that's almost never seen or recognized as being what it is.
So?
