Just a Second-Prequil

 The following precedes https://stumblingfillies.blogspot.com/2022/07/jussa-seconn.html and https://stumblingfillies.blogspot.com/2023/07/jussa-seconn-2.html

The evening had started with a spark of excitement. You and your girlfriend, Tara, had been planning this dinner for some time. It was a rare night where neither of you had work, errands, or obligations—a chance to dress up, indulge, and just be together. Tara had spent the afternoon primping, sipping wine, her excitement palpable as she slipped into that little black dress that hugged her curves just right. You’d caught her twirling in front of the mirror, grinning at her reflection, and you couldn’t help but whistle. “Damn, Tits,” you teased, using the nickname that always made her giggle. She’d playfully swatted your arm, her cheeks flushing.

“You’re gonna have to behave tonight,” she said, pointing a manicured finger at you, though her smirk suggested she didn’t mind your antics one bit.

The restaurant was a step above your usual spots, a place with dim lighting, white tablecloths, and a wine list longer than a novel. You’d both decided to splurge, and Tara was all in for it. As you walked in, her arm looped through yours, she leaned in close, her perfume wrapping around you. “I’m starving,” she whispered, her voice carrying that playful lilt that always made your pulse quicken.

The hostess led you to a cozy table near the back overlooking the city, and Tara’s eyes lit up when she saw the wine menu. “Oh, we’re doing this right,” she declared, scanning the options. You chuckled, knowing her love for red wine was about to take center stage. The waiter, a polished guy with a crisp apron, appeared almost instantly, and Tara didn’t hesitate. “We’ll start with a bottle of the Cabernet Sauvignon,” she said, her tone confident, though she shot you a mischievous glance as if to say, We’re in for a night. “And coke for me,” you added, ko\nowing you were driving.

The wine arrived, and Tara was quick to raise her glass for a toast. “To us, and to nights we won’t forget,” she said, her eyes locking with yours. You clinked glasses, and she took a long sip, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. “Oh, that’s dangerous,” she murmured, already reaching for a second pour.

Dinner hadn’t even started, but the vibe was perfect. Tara was in her element, laughing at your dumb jokes, teasing you about the way you kept stealing glances at her cleavage. “Eyes up here, mister,” she’d said, though she arched her back just a little, clearly enjoying the attention. The first bottle of wine was going down fast, mostly thanks to Tara’s enthusiasm. You sipped your coke more slowly, savoring the moment, watching her cheeks flush with that telltale glow.

By the time the waiter came back to take your order, Tara was already a little loose, her words starting to blur at the edges. You could tell she was feeling good—maybe too good—but it was hard to care when she was so damn charming. Her eyes were slits behind her glasses, a coy smile on her face.