Andi looks at you, smiling. "Let’s get some dinner first. I hope you like Italian." She continues driving, and as you glance over to her, you notice that her nipple has become hard and is working through the soft cotton of her t-shirt. You can’t tell if it’s the air conditioning (which does indeed seem to be aimed right at her), but it seems to be the case.
You pull into the restaurant, and the gentleman in you surfaces. You open the doors for her, and when you are led to your seat, you make sure that Andi’s seat is pulled out. She grins at you, something a little more than cute naiveté lingering in her blue eyes.
"So, do you like the town, ?" You nod, trying to avoid letting your eyes stay too transfixed on her breasts. Her nipples are still hard, though, and it's a considerable effort. You pick up the menu, pretending to read, trying to avoid embarrassing yourself. "Well, see anything you like?" You nearly drop the menu, but compose yourself.
"I'm a big fan of pasta," you tell her. "This was a good idea." She smiles, and when the waiter comes back, Andi continues to astonish. She orders in fluent Italian, and the waiter looks at you, a delightful smile on his face.
"And for you, sir?" You look at Andi, who shrugs carelessly, and you again get the impression that she is more than she lets on. "Just make it two," you say resignedly.
The waiter nods and leaves, leaving you alone with Andi. "I didn't know you spoke Italian," you tell her, impressed.
"Why would you?" she asks, deadpan. She shakes her head and giggles again. "I spent a year in Italy to study abroad. I stayed with a host family that spoke about three words of English, so I learned Italian in about a month. Otherwise I would have starved. But it's also a beautiful language," she says, sighing. "I love the way it sounds."
"Me, too," you say quickly. She leans back and thrusts her chest forward to stretch her back. The conversation continues on the same track, each of you exchanging pieces of your life until the food arrives. During dinner, you both stop talking, trying to sate a ravenous hunger. As you finish, the waiter drops the check and says something in Italian to Andi. She gets a disgusted look on her face and opens the check, dropping some cash into the folder and standing up. "Come on," she says. "We don't want to be late for the movie."
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