Naughty Neighboring Table.... [man's Wandering Eyes; Marriage; Dining Out; Personal] Poem by Bri Edwards

I was sitting at a little table, my mate seated opposite me on a long wall bench,
when in walked and sat two feet from my mate, a long-legged, young blonde wench.
I went about my business of perusing menu, ordering, and beginning meal.
But, darn it, I couldn't help stealing glances of the girl, from her crown down to her heel.

A second young lady came and sat across from the first. Were they a couple?
As the first one raised her water glass to tender lips with a hand smooth and supple......,
I consciously made sure I looked (usually) elsewhere. No staring!
Then the blonde pulled off her sweater, revealing a T-shirt. Was she, a brassiere, wearing?

I don't think my mate noticed my wandering eyes. Subtle I can be.
But I had the sensation of flesh expanding from below my belt line towards my left knee.
Thank goodness for long shirttails, back AND front, and low restaurant lighting.
I'd not want my mate, when I rose from my chair, to make an embarrassing sighting.

(Jan.2013)