I met a guy and it reminded me of a story my wife told me after we met him a few years ago. In her words -

I’d fancied him for ages and flirted with him a bit but finally met him in a bar one night - I was out with friends and he was out with a couple of guys he knew. I was wearing a pair of white tight tight jeans that I could hardly get on, a skimpy top and a pair of high heels.

We talked a bit at the bar and when the girls said they were leaving he said he’d give me a lift home later so I stayed with him.

In the car my only concern was how I was going to get the fucking jeans off- honestly I was so sure we were going to end up riding!! About a mile from my house I told him to pull over into a private spot, we kissed and got into the back seat. A couple more minutes kissing, he was feeling my tits and I was rubbing his cock over his trousers and then he just stopped. He said he had to go and brought me home. I got into bed frustrated and ended up masturbating while thinking about him.”

I couldn’t help thinking if he regretted that night when I was talking to him.