That night, Bunny’s most striking features, in the parked Cadillac’s rear seat, were her plentiful breasts.
Linda’s boyfriend, Brad, up front, didn’t seem particularly deep or thoughtful.
As my date, Bunny, nattered on about Mozart, the murmurings and unsnappings up-front turned me on.
Linda suddenly swivelled around, her shoulders naked except for her bra straps, and touched my cheek momentarily, signalling, I imagined, that she and Brad were in a different place than us lovebirds.
I longed to be in the driver’s seat.