Axel3.14That night, Chad stared at the dancing flame on the candle until a wall of scarlet silk captured his attention.
"Good Evening, Monsier." Tia grinned and sat.
Chad smiled involuntarily before frowning.
"What’s wrong?"
"I feel a trifle underdressed." Chad uttered, the redness of his face accentuated by the moonlight.
"You look delectible." Tia chuckled as she adjusted his rustled collar.
The waiter arrived promptly. "Good evening, I’ll be your waiter tonight. Our specials tonight are king crab, swordfish piccata, and fettuccine alfredo. Would you like to order now, or would you like some time to decide?"
"I know what I want!" Tia spoke. "The special!"
"Which one, madame?"
"I’m a madamoiselle, and I want all the specials!" Tia smiled.
The waiter blinked and scribbled on a notepad. "Certainly! And you, sir?"
Chad glanced at the menu and pondered. "I’ll just have… the tilapia."
The waiter continued. "Can I get you anything to drink?
"I’ll have a glass of milk."
"Ummm.hmmm. And for you?"
"I’ll just have water."
"Very Well."
The waiter dissappeared.
Tia and Chad talked about various matters until the dinner came.
Chad looked down at his tilapia, pretending not to watch Tia devour the mountain of seafood before her, but his small plate of fish could only last so long. His eyes hovered at the ridge of her decolletage. He extended a finger towards the underside of Tia’s cleavage, but she slapped it aside gently.
"Don’t feel up my breasts in public!" She grumbled.
"No no! You have a noodle on your shirt.
"Thank you." Tia reached down, plucked the errant strand of pasta off her dress, and slurped it, seemingly unaware of the surrounding people who beared disdainful expressions at such behavior.
"I’m surprised you are eating alfredo cheese when you’re about to enter a bodybuilding exhibition…" Chad said.
Tia flexed her profound arms. Chad could have sworn that her triceps neared the size of his head. "I need plenty of energy and protein to maintain muscles like this."
As Tia licked the last few smears of alfredo from her plate, the band began an upbeat pattern of brass clashing and drum pounding. The nurse leapt out of her seat immediately. "Hey Chad, Wanna dance?"
The man lacked time to say yes before he found himself oscillating across the floor. Tia clutched his face blithely against her voluminous endowments, an undualating ocean of softness that ebbed and swelled with each boundless, diaphragmatic breath. Running his hands up and down her latissimus dorsi muscles, Chad felt disoriented from the vertigo and affect. His partner giggled as he examined her abdominal musculature. The tall woman proceeded to dip him, but the disparity between their heights caused her to overextend.
RIP! The elegant dress was riven, silken tatters fluttering to the floor.
Every eye in the room was fixated on her. The titaness changed countenance. Chad felt her skin grow clammy as it blanched. He blinked, and she became an unfurling banner of tresses, rushing from the door like a retreating Roman vexilum.
As he picked up the shreds of a once magnificent evening gown, he pondered the transpiration. Why did this delightfully gauche woman abandon her insocuiance so abruptly. Suddenly the answer arose from the shimmering rags in his hands.
"That woman. She wasn’t wearing a bra…" he mumbled, utterly dumbfounded.