Awkward

"Do you want to go with me to the movie, to ogle Charlize Theron's breasts?"

He laughed. "Is this the part when I'm supposed to kiss you and tell you you're beautiful?" he asked.

"No". She grinned; the wine-glass fluttered slightly in between her fingers. Her lips tasted of merlot and chocolate;  a smudge of cake mixed in with red-lipstick jutted out of the corner of her mouth, and she smelled of - of that damn new perfume from the Marc Jacbos line.

They fell on top of the pile of coats. He could feel tweed against his thigh, and brass buttons. The door opened. There was a slight coughing noise. Then it closed again. His foot pressed down on the floor. There was a crunching sound. "Oh shit", he said. They both laughed. Now that they were apart, he saw her breasts spilling out of a black bra.

"I'll get a towel", she said, skipping away from the bed.
"Wait!"
She paused, hand on the door.
"What?"
"You're not wearing a shirt."
"I know that."
"Oh."

He tried not to look at her, as she swept away the shards with a kitchen-towel. It seemed rude to leave. He could hear the glass jangling as she shook the towel into the garbage pail.

"I think its safe now", she said.
"Thanks", he said, with a nod, as he tried to creep out of the room in his too-loud shoes.

"No problem", she muttered to a closing door.