There was an exhibit of the work of the late David Prosser showing downtown. When he asked Gail if she had gone to it yet, she became very animated and said that did not know about it, that she had not known of anything else he did, and she wanted very much to go to it."Would you like to meet me at noon and go to it tomorrow? You would be a fun person to see it with. And by the way... I do mean this as a date," Vince said.Her face grew thoughtful at the last part, but she agreed. And after some more conversation, she went into the kitchen.She had a glass of wine with dinner, saying somewhat shamefacedly that she didn't normally, but she felt a little nervous about being alone with a man in her own apartment, not that she didn't trust him. He mentally sighed at being considered harmless. But knew that it was better than being thought of as a rapist.They talked until rather late, exchanging a lot of information about each other's fondnesses and dislkes, and ended up watching the eleven. I had to get my hands on them, feel them.She made her way to a lone stool at the bar, deep in the corner, away from the crowd. Her sway, to and fro; womanly hips moving beneath her dress hypnotized me, drawing me to her shapely thighs, my gaze caressing her through her stockings.Suddenly breathing became difficult when I saw her shoes. Delicate feet encased in five inch, black patent leather pumps. Be still my throbbing heart!The raw music, the dimly lit smoky haze, the smell of excitement; it all blended together into an atmosphere bent toward secrets, intimacy, and sex.I stalked her with my gaze while she ordered a mixed drink, then nibbled delicately on a bar pretzel. She wasn't hiding in her dark corner; no, her eyes were constantly moving, watching, evaluating.There was no visible tension in her body; she relaxed languidly, fluidly, with an arm on the back of her stool, her supple body leaning gently against the wall. The subtle rippling of her body could only mean she was.
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