When we got to the restaurant, the boys were perfect gentlemen. They jumped out of the back seat and opened both our doors and escorted us inside. When we were shown to a table, they even held our chairs for us. I could see that Bambi wanted to ask me how I managed to turn those two into gentlemen, but she couldn't very well bring it up in front of them. I wondered if I should tell her that I used the same pain/pleasure technique that she had used so effectively on me.
Dinner was perfect. The food was delicious and the service was excellent. Our waiter kept our glasses so full that I lost track of how much I had had to drink and I had to run to the restroom to pee. On my way there I noticed that I was attracting a lot of looks but I was too desperate to get to the ladies room to pay any attention.
When I finished, I checked myself over carefully in the mirror. Everything was where it should be. I pulled my pants up into my crack again to make sure that they covered my hair. Some of my girlfriends had told me that they hated thongs and g-strings because they could not stand the feeling of having something up their crack. I couldn't understand that because I loved the sensation of having something against my sensitive parts. I couldn't wear underwear with the clothes I had on, but having the seam of the pants riding up between my cheeks and my pussy lips was even better. I smoothed the pants out so they clung to me like a second skin.
The jacket was cut so that only the sides and front of my breasts were covered. The material was sheer enough to show the outline of the parts that it covered and in a good light, like the bright light over the mirror, you could make out the outline of my nipples. On impulse, I opened the jacket and pulled on my nipples until they swelled up. Then I closed the jacket again with my breasts hiked up even higher, so that my nipples were just covered but their outline was clearly visible through the jacket. Leaving the restroom, I walked slowly back to our table.
This time I looked around so I could appreciate the looks I was getting. I was surprised to see so many people stop eating to look. Some of them even pointed me out to their dinner companions. It seemed to me that I was attracting just as much attention from the women as the men. I had been afraid that my clothes would be too much for this fancy restaurant, but I saw many women who were showing just as much skin as I was. Some of the most admiring looks I got were from the women I would have considered competition.
It was looking like Mrs. Reynolds was right when she said even girls who were envious of me would find me attractive. I was going to have to learn to relate to people completely differently. It was clear that I was going to attract attention. I could probably have walked through the restaurant wearing a burlap bag and still attracted attention. Wearing clothes that showed off my figure would attract more, but I refused to dishonor Mrs. Reynolds' wonderful gift, and especially the pain and tears that I had contributed to the process, by covering up the magnificent result. I wondered if that made me egotistical. I didn't feel that way. I felt like the proud owner of a beautiful work of art. I wanted to show it off so everyone could enjoy it. I thought perhaps the other women who were looking at me so admiringly understood this. I smiled back at the next woman who looked at me admiringly and I nodded to her. She looked me right in the eyes and for a second I felt that we connected, that there was a sense of shared experience.
It seemed that I arrived back at the table way too soon. I wanted to make another trip around the room. I smiled at the impulse. Although I hadn't exactly been a wallflower, I had never been that much of an exhibitionist before; but I was certainly turning into one. As I sat back down, I remembered the construction workers in the truck watching me cum. Knowing that someone was watching me added a lot to the experience, as though I were sharing my pleasure with them.
Before, I had thought of sex as a personal, intimate thing. This may have been because the average number of people who had been involved in each of my sexual experiences was equal to one. As my sexual horizon broadened, I understood that my sex life would be far more varied; way more interesting; and probably a good bit more public than I had ever dreamed. As far as my appearance was concerned, I may as well have been carrying a big flashing sign saying 'LUST'. This was one of the things that I would have to rely on Mrs. Reynolds to guide me through. She had years of experience at dealing with being a public attraction that she had promised to share with me.
"You seem to be very thoughtful tonight," Mrs. Reynolds commented as I worked on my salmon filet.
"I was just thinking how lucky I am and how close I feel to each of you." As I said it, I looked each of them in the eyes, paying particular attention to Jim and Bud. I wanted the two boys to feel that I cared for them, even if I had to be mean to them at times. The thought had just passed through my head when I recognized it as maternal instinct. It shocked me. I had never had a maternal thought before. I tried to imagine where on earth it had come from, but I couldn't blame it on anything specific. It had to be me belatedly growing up. I was officially no longer a girl. I was now a woman.
I raised my water glass. "To women," I said. Everyone joined in the toast.