The Mac

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“I'm naked under this coat,” she whispered, and fixed me with those grey-green eyes. Pippa was wearing one of those old American detective style macs and a cheeky grin. I was desperate to look down, but I kept eye contact.
“Completely?” I asked, trying not to look over excited.
“Completely,” she confirmed. This time I did look her up and down. There was no way of telling if there were clothes under her coat or not. My brain whirred. Why was Pippa naked? Why was she telling me this?

They say if a penny falls from a great height, it can kill a person. Well, the penny that had just dropped in my head was certainly lethal. She was flirting with me. This didn't happen. What should I do?  I was hopeless at flirting.
The busy pub hummed around us; people talking about work, dissertations and affairs and completely unaware that the most beautiful girl in the world was in amongst them in a state of undress, and the nerdiest man in the world was in a state of panic.  She flicked her curly blonde hair out of her face.
“Why?” I asked. It was the best I could do, and I needed to keep the conversation going.
“I thought it might be fun,” she said.
“And is it?”
She licked her luscious lips. “Oh yes.”

“Does Zack know?” Zack was Pippa’s boyfriend. My nemesis.

“No, and he’s never going to find out.”

My brain was working overtime. I was beginning to believe that after months of dreaming, my dreams might come true.

 “I don't believe you.” I said.
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“No, but you might just be joking. I'm not as gullible as I look you know?”
“It's true,” she said. “Not even little lace panties.”
I blushed. Why did I blush? She’d only said panties. 

“Prove it,” I said bravely.

“Here?” Her eyes fixed me again.

I looked over my shoulder.

“The smokers’ garden is empty.” I said, taking out a box of cigarettes, but I didn’t expect her to say yes.

“Come on then.”

We stood up and went to the back and out into the small enclosed area for those addicted to nicotine. My head was beating and my palms sweaty. She turned her back to the pub and lit the cigarette I offered her. I lit mine and looked at her expectantly.

She fumbled with her belt and let her coat fall open. I kept looking into those smiling eyes.

“Believe me now?”

I didn’t look, I wanted to look, I knew that inches away was a real life naked woman. I could smell her skin, but my eyes remained fixed on hers. I took a long drag of cigarette smoke. We exhaled together. She took a step back revealing the gentle curves of her delicious body to me. She sure was naked except for black high heeled shoes.  

“Wow!”

She laughed and stepped forwards so out bodies were almost touching.

“Can I touch?” I said.

“Later,” she promised. She dropped her cigarette and used a shiny black stiletto heel to put it out. “We’d better get back.”

I put out my smoke and we headed back inside. I could hardly contain my excitement. However long later was, it couldn’t come soon enough.