Flash on cue

"I have an idea or three," you tell her confidently. She grins as you lead her toward the restaurant. You wonder if it might have been a better idea to get Jess a cover or shawl or something, but the maitre d gives Jess the most cursory of glances before shifting his attention to one of the wait staff. Jess saunters ahead of you, and as you are seated, the waiter, a young man of probably thirty grins. "I do hope you enjoyed the beach, ma'am," he says. "Sir," he says, flashing a similar grin at you. He leaves you with menus and goes to the kitchen.

"These guys aren't any fun," Jess pouts. "No one's looking at me." You laugh, and Jess can't suppress a grin. "Well, there's one. But he always stares," she acknowledges, and you feel her foot graze your shin.

"Any time the waiter asks us if we're okay, you flash me," you say softly. Jess's mouth opens in amused shock, but she nods. Your foot brushes against hers and she smiles even wider.

"Sounds good," she whispers. The waiter comes back with a menu and two glasses of water. He goes over the lunch specials, then leaves you to contemplate the menu. As you are looking over the restaurant's offerings you notice the waiter eyeing you from the side of the room. At least he's subtle you think and as you trace his gaze, you see Jess's hand absently stroking her shoulder. Her finger gets caught in the thin strap of cloth on her right shoulder and shakes her bikini cup. You watch with a deep interest as her perky boob quivers in its cup, threatening to fall out, but settles again. You glance back at the waiter, who is now watching intently.

"I don't think you're as invisible as you think," you tell Jess. You jerk your head slightly to the waiter, and watch Jess's eyes flit that way as well. She grins as she realizes what he was watching.

"Oooh. Should I give him a show?"