“How much?”, he mumbled with a strong alcoholic breath. His body blocked the narrow path from bathroom to restaurant.
I turned red and stammered, “huh?”
His hands are on the back of my thighs now, clumsily moving towards by ass underneath my white cotton dress.
“$100 can?”, the drunk man asked.
I stood there frozen and blushing, the whole world fades away leaving only his dirty hands on my smooth thigh.
The silence breaks, his friend apologized profusely as he yanked him away. I return to reality. I walk out into the restaurant and sat down with my family for dinner, acting like nothing happened.
Fuck why did that make me so wet.