Who would have thought... that Elaine would actually get a date!
Yeah, it’s ridiculous that I needed her help to go out with a girl, but that’s exactly what happened.
All thanks to the lie I told Brianne—that Elaine and I are dating.
Everyone knows it: a guy in a happy relationship is a safe guy.
Any girl would feel comfortable hanging out with soone who seems harmless, that’s why Brianne agreed to co.
And honestly, she looked kind of happy about it.
I an, she didn’t jump around like she just won the lottery or anything, but when Elaine walked up to her during lunch and said: «This afternoon, Ren and I are heading to Fifth Avenue for an aperitif and so shopping—he seriously needs to update his wardrobe. Want to co with us? You can help him pick sothing decent» I could tell Brianne was pleased.
She’s the one dressing like the frontman of a rock band from forty years ago, and she’s lecturing on fashion?
Even Isabelle keeps nagging about ditching the tracksuits and dressing like a classy man... but tracksuits are way more comfortable, and no one will ever convince to wear those damn skinny jeans that crush my dick every ti I get even a hint of a boner!
So, just a casual outing with Elaine and Brianne?
Wrong.
—DRIIING!
Brianne and I are sitting on a bench, waiting for Elaine, when my phone rings—it’s her calling.
«Sorry babe, sothing ca up. You two go ahead with the shopping, and make sure to listen to Brianne, she clearly has better fashion sense than you! I’ll catch up with you later, okay? Kisses!»
Oh no, what a shocking twist, who could have seen that coming...
Of course, I made sure the phone volu was high enough so Brianne could hear every word Elaine said.
«So... what now?» I ask, standing up from the bench. I stretch my arms and arch my back just enough to lift the hem of my hoodie and reveal a small strip of skin around my abs.
Just a couple of centiters—enough to catch a girl’s eye and spark her imagination, but not enough to look like I’m trying too hard.
No, that kind of guy only appeals to teenage girls.
To impress a real woman, things need to be more subtle.
You have to tease, intrigue, make her want to see a bit more.
That’s the foolproof strategy that gets between the thighs of my beloved MILFs, and I bet it works just as well with Brianne, since her mindset is way more mature than most girls our age.
«Well, um... your girlfriend said we should start shopping. I’m not really good with fashion, though. I just hope I don’t end up picking sothing she’ll hate», she replies with a shy little smile.
It’s the first ti I’ve seen her smile like that... God, she’s beautiful!
That contrast between her innocent angelic face and that bombshell body—those huge tits, those thighs, that ass just begging to be slapped all day long... She’s like an erotic angel dropped from heaven!
«Don’t worry. Whatever you tell to buy will definitely be better than what she would choose for . You’ve probably guessed by now—fashion sense isn’t exactly her strong suit,» I reassure her.
But she throws a disapproving glance.
«It’s not nice to talk about your girlfriend like that,» Brianne mutters.
Shit, she’s right! I need to start talking about Elaine like she’s really my girlfriend... Damn, I’m not used to this! Wait—I’ve got an idea. I’ll just pretend I’m talking about Isabelle instead. That should make sound like the sweetest, most caring boyfriend ever! Starting from... now!
«Oh, don’t worry. She knows I think that about her. She gets mad every ti, but one good hard fuck and she gets over it.»
But by the ti I realize what I’ve said, it’s too late—Brianne instantly turns bright red and looks down.
«I-I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that...» she murmurs.
Shit... I got too into character, like I was actually talking about Isabelle.
What a screw-up...
Considering the religious circles she hangs around with, I doubt she’s ever been this embarrassed in her life.
But co on, we’re just teenagers—it’s not like I told her I killed soone...
Luckily, this awkward mont doesn’t last long.
It took a while to break the ice—this girl’s way too shy! But after nearly an hour of dragging words out of her, she finally starts to loosen up.
She talks more freely about herself, though she avoids going too deep into personal stuff—which makes sense, given how timid and guarded she is.
It’s like she’s worried sothing might suddenly go wrong.
What is it? Is she scared I might attack her? But she thinks I’m taken... Could it be because of the rumors about ?
So, she wasn’t entirely honest when she apologized for avoiding just because of so "prejudice", huh.
From the little she did share, I found out she loves jazz music, collects old books, stays up late reading, dreams of becoming a famous archaeologist, and moved to the U.S. from Greece five years ago.
Definitely not your average Arican girl.
We’re chatting about random stuff as we walk down Fifth Avenue, when a woman passes by with who I assu is her husband... and she brushes her fingers lightly against mine, smiling.
That face... it’s so familiar... Where have I seen her before?
Oh right, it’s Mrs. Lunsford—the fifty-year-old with the unforgettable kiss... who I had actually forgotten.
From that touch, it’s obvious she hasn’t forgotten our steamy shower session in her fancy loft.
And since she gave her number that night... yeah, I should definitely call her soon.
«Here we are,» Brianne says as we stop in front of a fancy boutique that sells both n’s—and let’s be real, old man’s—clothes and won’s outfits.
Honestly, this is the kind of place Elaine and Isabelle want to dress from.
So fine, let’s get this over with.
«I’ve never actually been in here,» she admits. «Collecting antique books is a really expensive hobby, and it eats up all my allowance. So I usually wear whatever my mom buys . But so of my richer friends say this is the most stocked boutique on Fifth Avenue, so... since your girlfriend left in charge of your outfit, I had no idea where else to take you», she finishes, with that sa sweet, awkward smile.
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