Go into Luciano's and have dinner with David

17:10 | Saturday 2 Aug 2025 | Luciano's Restaurant, Putney

The hostess leads you and David through Luciano's, a warm space of amber lighting and intimate tables draped with crisp white cloths. You feel eyes tracking your progress—the sparkly silver mini-dress catching light with each sway of your hips, your makeup-enhanced features drawing curious glances.

"Right this way," the hostess says, guiding you to a secluded corner table. "Your server will be with you shortly."

David pulls out your chair, his hand brushing against the small butterfly tattoo at the base of your spine. The touch sends an unexpected jolt of pleasure through you.

"Is this new?" he asks, fingertip tracing the design before you sit.

"Um, yeah," you stammer, suddenly struggling to remember when you got it. "I got it, like, recently?"

David takes his seat across from you, his eyes dark and intense in the candlelight. "It's sexy. Didn't think Matt's girlfriends were the tattoo type."

The cognitive dissonance makes your head spin—you are Matt, but you're not. The thought tries to form but dissolves into bubbles of confusion before you can grasp it. Your bimbo-locked brain simply can't hold onto the complex reality of your situation.

"I'm full of surprises," you giggle, twirling a strand of platinum blonde hair around your finger.

A server appears—a tall, slender man named Marco with an accent as rich as the restaurant's tiramisu. "Good evening. May I start you with some wine?"

"Bottle of the Barolo," David says without consulting the menu. "And we'll need a few minutes for food."

Marco nods and disappears, returning moments later with a bottle and two glasses. As he pours, you notice David watching you over the rim of his menu, his gaze predatory in a way that makes your skin tingle.

"So, Mia," he says after Marco leaves again. "Tell me about yourself."

The question sends panic fluttering through you. Who is Mia? What does she like? What's her history? Your mind grasps at fragments, but nothing coheres.

"Well, I'm, like..." you begin, voice rising at the end of the phrase. "I love fashion and makeup and stuff."

David smirks. "I can see that. What else?"

You take a large gulp of wine, the rich flavor washing over your tongue. "I dunno. What do you wanna know?"

"How did you and Matt meet?"

Another question that should be simple but feels like solving a complex equation. "At a... party?" you venture, the statement coming out as a question.

"Must have been some party," David says, his smile knowing. He reaches across the table, his fingers brushing against yours. "He never mentioned someone like you."

The touch sends heat spiraling through your body, settling between your thighs where you've been wet since the transformation. The constant arousal programmed into your body intensifies, making you shift in your seat.

"Maybe he wanted to keep me secret," you suggest, surprised by the flirtatious tone that colors your words.

Marco returns to take your orders. David chooses without hesitation—linguine alle vongole for himself, mushroom risotto for you. The decisiveness is oddly attractive, and you find yourself leaning forward, giving him a better view of your cleavage without consciously intending to.

"You know," David says when Marco leaves, "I've been thinking about this morning."

Your heart skips a beat. "This morning?"

"When you arrived," he clarifies, swirling wine in his glass. "It was... unexpected."

Before you can respond, he continues. "But I'm glad you're here."

The warmth in his voice makes something flutter in your chest. You take another sip of wine, larger this time, feeling it loosen what few inhibitions remain.

17:35 | Saturday 2 Aug 2025 | Luciano's Restaurant, Putney

[TIMER | Orgasm Requirement | 3:30:00 remaining]