A swanky Chinese place

When Trish is finally satisfied with your makeup she gives you a long, deep kiss with a side order of tongue. Even sitting there getting your makeup applied you still couldn't quell the fire in your loins. If you weren't hungry you'd be willing to shove Trish back onto the bed and ride her like your personal stallion. The kiss would probably have pushed you over the edge, but mid-way through your stomach chimes in with the deepest and most unladylike gurgle you've ever produced. That includes the time you tortured your digestive system by eating two cans of beans and a green pepper for dinner because you couldn't be assed to cook anything else.

Trish has a good laugh and pats your belly. "Don't worry, I'm planning to win over your tummy tonight. Gotta please every part of you my love."

You blush and gasp like an infatuated schoolgirl... which, you realize, is basically what you are at this point - minus the technicality of not actually being registered at any school, anywhere. That thought leads to other thoughts about how fucked up your whole life is right now. Something you really meant to get on top of. It sours the otherwise perfect moment, but you push those feelings aside for now.

When you step outside you find out that in addition to the non-coverage of the blouse in front it also has little frilly slits cut through its back. Your shoulders and most of your spine down to chest level can feel the breeze too. For all intents and purposes it's like someone tried to cover your nakedness with little bits of ribbon. Your girlfriend leads you to the car and again holds the door for you - 'Damn is she ever trying to score points!' thinks your feminine side.

The drive is long enough that your stomach produces one more loud complaint before you reach your destination. By then you're starting to feel the hunger, like it's gnawing at your insides. You even feel a little weak when you get out of the car, something Trish must have noticed because she deftly hooks your arm into hers and leads you towards the restaurant.

It's not somewhere you've ever been, a classy Chinese place that looks like it's older than you are. The building looks old enough to have been here during the moon landings. The staff don't seem to pay any particular attention to the fact you're pretty obviously on a date with a girl, which is certainly appreciated. You suspect the sound of crashing plates might have been your fault. You honestly needed to stretch though, there was a kink in your back.

The interior of the restaurant has that strange quality unique to some Chinese restaurants - the decor is all dark hued and the lighting is deliberately kept low. In fact the bulbs here are some special kind of LED that simulate candlelight quite effectively. The end result is that it almost seems the air itself is swallowing the light. Everything is dark and quiet. You can make out the people three tables away, but by five tables you can't even make out their hair color.

You get quite a lot of attention from the patrons as you and Trish are lead to your seats. In lighting like this with your pale skin and this outfit you imagine you look like a head attached to some mostly exposed boobs, a pair of arms and a sliver of leg that becomes more or less exposed as you walk. The male side of your brain is almost crying that you shouldn't be so visible, that you shouldn't take such pleasure in the way those eyes are wandering over your nearly naked form. But feeling safe at Trish's side you calmly and confidently stride to your table, which thankfully turns out to be a booth.

The waiter, who somehow manages to maintain eye contact even when you choose an inopportune moment to lean back in your seat, gives you each a nice, thick and heavily decorated menu. "Have you ever been here before?" asks your lover, smiling at you from across the small table. You shake your head and reach for the menu. But Trish puts a finger on top of it and keeps smiling. "Just trust me, I know the very best dishes."

"Okay, which ones are they?" you ask. You put your hands on the menu, but you don't pull it out from under her finger.

"Let me surprise you," she says and at that moment you feel a toe trace all the way up your exposed calf. You almost let out a little "Eep!" in surprise and by the time you recover Trish has taken your menu and placed it neatly atop her own.

Now you're starting to feel conflicted. Yes, Trish is wonderful and great, hot and smart but are you going to let her order for you? You thought there were only a few places in the world where men still did that. As a guy you never would have thought to order for your girl unless she suggested it. But she does know the menu... she has been ever so nice to you... she probably has the perfect thing in mind. Just like she had the perfect outfit picked out for you.

That part of you that was crying before is screaming now. 'You have to stand up for yourself,' it says, 'you can't let her take the lead all the time or she will!' You feel that toe return, rubbing gently against your ankle, and it feels nice. You look up into her joyful, glittering eyes and you see that smile spread all across her face.