Indecent Tonight?

Are you going to be indecent tonight?

If you are, please do me the favor of a subtle hint, a quiet, salacious clue to the direction you will be leading our little adventure. I would ask a moment to prepare.

Will you whisper in my ear, between the drinks and dinner, that you may he left your panties at home. Will you scribble on a cocktail napkin, how wet you are…that you may feel a little run down your hot thigh?

When we are in the car to the theater, will your hands wander? Over my body and your own? Should I circle the block another time before parking?

In the darkened auditorium, in our own private row of a second run film, will you take to you knees and devour me whole? Only relenting when I succumb to your artful lips?

Will you demand that I fuck you, up against the wall of the dark alley, your cries echoing, blending into the cacophony of noise that scores the dark, urban night?

Will you ask for my arm as we walk to the car, shaken and spent from the torrents of pleasure that consumed us in our private moment in a public world?

Please.

Be indecent tonight, lover.