He has this awful habit of leaving his car keys on the bar. I’ve told him that it bothers me, but he never seems to remember to put his keys in his pocket.
Last night, in the middle of our conversation, when I was sure he was watching, I made my move. I put my index finger on his ignition key and slowly slid the key ring towards me, to the very edge of the bar. I looked up at him and let the keys fall into my lap.
“Pay the tab,” I said.
I slipped off the bar stool, dodged the patrons scattered around the pool tables, and made my way out of the open door. Just past my own car, I found his.
I slipped into the driver’s seat and fumbled with the controls to move the seat forward. Slight nervousness washed over me as I adjusted the rearview mirror and saw J walking through the lot towards his own car. He hesitated for a moment, walked around to the passenger side and tried the door. It was locked. I glanced at the various buttons on my left before leaning over to open it.
He sat and tossed his wallet into the center console, just like he does when he drives.
“Where are we going?”
“Shush,” I dismissed him with a smile. I probably would have answered him if I could have, but I had no idea where I was going. I just liked the idea of driving his car with him in it.
About forty-five minutes and awkward sex later, he drove us back to the pub so I could get my car. We chatted as he drove, and despite the awkward sex, it felt good. I leaned over and gave him a long, sweet goodnight kiss before climbing out of his car. He looked a little confused–I’m sure he was waiting for me to invite him back to my place to spend the night.
I didn’t.[PANTY STATUS: I’m fairly sure that my panties are somewhere on the floor in the backseat of J’s car. I really hope he’s driving his carpool on Monday… ]