They sit to my right on a the banquette at one of this town’s fancier eating establishments. I notice her first because she’s somewhat pretty, and because she leans into the table with an attitude of rapt interest in what her date says. They’re clearly on a date. I don’t know how i can tell […]
They sit to my right on a the banquette at one of this town’s fancier eating establishments.
I notice her first because she’s somewhat pretty, and because she leans into the table with an attitude of rapt interest in what her date says.
They’re clearly on a date. I don’t know how i can tell this, because I can’t hear what they’re saying, but it’s clear. Something in the way they’re dressed, maybe, or the body language that says pre-mating dance.
She’s slender, long dark hair covering maybe a bit too much of her angular-but-pretty features. She’s wearing some sort of casual-but-nice top, I’m not sure what sort, the sort of thing you’d put on when you’re dressing up but don’t want to over-do your date attire.
But what catches my attention isn’t what she’s got on above the waist. Below, she’s in jeans; neat, dark, new, not levis, some fancier brand. But since I’m on the banquette, and she’s leaning forward, i can also see her underwear peeking out of the top of her jeans.
Now, there are certainly plenty of cases where lovely young ladies choose to leave a peek of panty over the top of jeans. But this doesn’t have that look to it. This looks like a case of tight, low cut jeans, and a pair of panties that are riding up. I bet she doesn’t know, or that she figures it doesn’t matter; her date can’t seem them.
Date underwear.