I don't know what he did, but the back of my hand was on his cock, and I wondered how big the damned thing was, because it was pressing against my hip...as well. He leaned in and kissed me again, and I almost shifted my position toput my arm around him. Almost. But I didn't want to move my hand. Well, not that far, anyway. Instead, I bent my wrist just enough that now it was my palm that was against his dick and, if I inched my fingers just enough, I could slip them over his waistband as well.. He didn’t ask for her number. He didn’t try to impress her. Just a note in passing at the end of lunch. She tried to remember if he had done it in view of her previous boyfriend. She pulled the covers up over herself as she tried to remember his name. That failed memory was certainly telling. What she remembered clearly was that he had seen in that one lunch what she had not seen in two months of going out with her ex. That he couldn’t give her what she was seeking, that she was likely going to. More

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