Bill, on the other hand, was totally confused. Had absolutely no way of understanding what had transpired. Yes, in many ways, the last few hours had fallen well within his all-time fantasies - yet something was agley. His backside still stung and he was constantly reminded of what he was wearing under his shirt and pants. Little tightnesses here, the soft frisson of shirt against satin there, the tug of the panty legs on his upper thigh, the tightness of the camisole across his back - and what appeared to be a loose strap on his bra. He was very conscious of the fact that he couldn't sprawl in his customary manner and let his feet stick out into the space between the tables. Thought that one of the waitresses had made out what he wore under his shirt - had seen her talking to the girl that was serving he and Joyce, with his waitress showing an astonished face, glancing surreptitiously at him, giggling behind her hand. He positively did NOT want her to see his nylons - that was a dead giveaway.