Twenty minutes and two and a half glasses of wine later, Mark was starting to feel a little tipsy, and her bladder was feeling the strain of drinking so much wine so quickly. She stood up to go to the toilet and bumped straight into Janine.
"Oh, I am sorry," he said.
"That's ok!" she said, smiling nervously. "Are you Mark?"
"I am. So, you're Janine?" Mark asked, trying not to sound like she'd known what she looked like for years and years and years.
"Yeah, that's me," she smiled again.
Janine's smile was killing Mark. He already felt the stirrings of another erection, and he didn't really want to walk all the way to the bathroom sporting his trousers as a tent, so she quickly tried to put how desirable she looked from her mind.
"Well, I'm just going to the toilet a second. Buy yourself whatever you want, it's on me, I shall be back as soon as possible."
"Ok, thanks," she giggled.
Susan had seen that look a thousand times, and that dress another thousand, and she knew what they both meant. Obviously Janine had been impressed by the phonecall, or maybe she was just trusting Susan's judgement for once, but it certainly meant that she was hoping for something a little more than just a drink. Maybe she had just been feeling lonely, recently. Still, if she was vulrable, Mark could easily make the situation his to control. He could wait until she tried something and then do stuff back for a little while and stop, and say that he wanted to make sure she was sure. Women loved that.
"Women don't love that..." mark thought quietly out loud. "That's how men think."
Shaking her head, she went to the toilet, her thoughts very much on Janine, and whether she had worn her nice underwear.