The girl leaned forward over the table, her shirt hiked up exposing the white lace “T“ of her thong. The frilliness contrasted dramatically with her clothes that were of cheap quality and mismatched. He didn’t notice, they were lip locked leaning into each other’s faces across the Pyrex bowl of French fries. The back of her head shifted anxiously while their lips suctioned an essence no one else at the Marigny perceived. Separated to breath she giggled, reaching behind her back to pull down her striped t-shirt.
The waiter came, perhaps seeing the breather as the moment to interrupt.
“What would you like for dessert?”
Neither noticed the waiter and locked their lips again once again exposing the "T."