Quietly aggressive; do your best so no one notices

You make your way downstairs to find Sarah and Beth discussing dinner plans. Sarah has her food out, and she looks up at you when you come downstairs, then huffs and looks back down at her phone. She's changed to a much more conservative button up blouse, though the gaps that open as she shifts in her seat indicate you'll still get an eyeful if you keep your attention on her ample chest. They are obviously looking for a place to eat and Beth looks at you and shrugs. “We're waiting for Emily to see if she has any suggestions,” Beth tells you. Beth, you've noticed, is still wearing a Harvard shirt, but this one seems nicer and newer. You nod, realizing that's a really good idea given Emily's knowledge of both good food and the area.

Emily comes down, and while you hear her hit the top of the stairs, you do your best not to draw undue attention. Sarah saying, “Damn!” in a surprised tone and Beth going “Whoa” under her breath draw your eyes, however. You turn to see Emily wearing a pair of jeans, dark jeans that fit snugly but not too tightly. She's pulled on a denim shirt with long sleeves and has left the top two buttons of the bulkier top open, just revealing her neck and collarbone before the placket of the garment takes over, hiding the top curves of her breasts that are likely held in her bra. It's easily the most daring thing you've seen Emily wear. Even when she was masturbating, your brain reminds you. The memory flashes back into your skull and you swallow as she comes down the stairs.

“Too much?” she asks, and you swear her eyes settle on yours for just a moment before looking behind you to Beth and Sarah. You almost say something, but Sarah beats you to the punch.

“Hell no, babe. Work it!” Emily sputters, and Beth sighs, but is smiling as she shakes her head. You applaud gently and she takes a bow, revealing a quick glance down her cleavage that can't help but draw your eye. You look up before she does and she walks over to the table. Within minutes she's pointed out a small Italian place that's about a forty minute drive from where you are, and you all agree it will be a good trip. You make plans to go to the grocery store to stock the kitchen as well.

Everyone agrees that Emily should drive, as no one else knows where they are going, and you keep the same seating arrangements in the car. You run upstairs to get your own phone and when you come down to the kitchen Emily's waitin. “I have the keys,” she tells you. She lets you out and turns to lock the door. Confident that Beth and Sarah are in the car, you cup Emily's ass while she's locking the door, shielding the car's potential view of the contact with your own body. Emily stiffens, but says nothing as she slowly locks the deadbolt. When she turns to you, there's a slight smile on her face. “Go,” she orders, and you feel a bit relieved that she seemed to enjoy it.

You get into the driver's side, and soon you are on your way. You try to keep it to a quiet few glances, but Emily notices on about the second one and rolls her eyes. Her left hand idly plays with her shirt, which Beth comments on quite a few times as nice change of pace. As she pulls the collar away, you realize that you are getting a nice view at the top of her left breast. Her skin is smooth and fair, and you can see no evidence that Emily's wearing a bra. She gives you a quick smile and leaves her shirt open as she talks up the restaurant to Sarah and Beth. The drive seems to go by too fast, and you notice Emily tug her shirt closed as you all get out of the car. You take a deep breath to calm yourself, and hold the door open for all the women, again letting your hand brush Emily's ass as you follow her in. Emily doesn't acknowledge it at all, and you hope for the best as you are led to the table. It's a booth, and you wait as Sarah and Beth climb into the furthest stall, leaving you and Emily to share a seat, too. You feel yourself fighting back a gleeful smile as you slide in on her right, though you keep a respectful distance.

The waitress is a delight, probably in her early twenties with long brown hair and dark skin. Her lips are full, and you listen to actually what seems like a hint of an authentic Italian accent. Emily orders an appetizer and you all get drinks. The women all order a nice red wine, but you know a glass of that with pasta will probably just put you to sleep, so you decline. “Looks like John is going to drive the three drunks home,” Beth laughs. The other two join in, and you smile shrugging.

“I'll be a gentleman,” you promise.

“What a shame,” Emily says, teasing, and the other girls laugh at the quick delivery. Emily tosses her hair in a mock seductive pose, but she gives you a good look of her free breast bouncing gently in her shirt, the top slope of her perky boob jiggling slightly with the move.

“Oh, he's blushing,” Sarah teases. Emily shoves you gently.

“I was kidding,” she says bluntly, but her hand brushes your thigh. Sarah and Beth each say “oooh,” and you raise your hands in defeat.

When you glance back at Emily, she's already reading the menu, but you find yourself distracted for a moment. You order a glass of water and you all peruse the menu.

You realize that Emily works as a food writer and specifically chose this place, so you lean over and ask her what's good. She's put a whiff of perfume on, and it smells like a bit of lavender. She smiles as she listens to your request.

"I love the lasagna; nice portion size, just enough cheese, well seasoned, and each little bite has an explosion of flavor in my mouth. I was thinking about getting it, but if you try it, I'll just steal some of yours," she says. The two girls jump in and offer the lets each get something different and try it. Emily nods.

"I'm game," she says.