The worrying thought that the lady you've dated after several months of chat might be sporting more downstairs than you signed up for. When that goodnight embrace leads you to hope that 'she' must have had one of those tiny extendable umbrellas in her coat pocket, even though it's July.
Things were okay until we left the restaurant. I had driven her to the bus stop, where we kissed and cuddled. Oddly, in the acrid orange neon glow, Gloria's jawline seemed harsher, more sculpted. At that moment I felt transiety, exacerbated by my lurking notion that her hands were quite big for a woman of her size.