The tongue is a marvelous thing -- firm, pliable, strong, delicate ... perhaps the most versatile organ in the body, after the hands and the brain, of course. Right now, I was watching a colleague of mine stick her tongue out and alternately touch her upper and then lower lip before reaching for her nose.
Nina was a 20 something, 5 foot 6 inch temp working as my boss' assistant and she had a predilection for tight tops and form fitting skirts and 3 inch heels. Today's vision was draped in a tight red shirt with a deftly subversive, low cut "V" that showcased her firm, b-cup tits -- she had a knee length black skirt and black leather boots that laced up the back. Her shoulder length, strawberry blond hair was pulled back in to a simple but sexy ponytail and she wore a fashionable pair of D&G glasses adorning the bridge of her regal nose. She had big, hazel eyes and Jessica Alba lips. She looked like she'd stepped out of an office themed porn flick.
She was standing over my shoulder, her slender arm resting around my neck and she pointed out some discrepancies in the report I'd filed a few days earlier. Nina was aces at reviewing and revising reports, and the speed with which she did it was almost supernatural. I realized that if the brain was the ultimate erogenous zone, I was going to have to work twice as hard to seduce hers. The lady was a genius.
But I'd never noticed her touch anybody in the office before -- and she was trying to touch the tip of her nose with her tongue.
"I've got tissue in a drawer," I told Nina as I tapped my desk. "But I gotta tell ya, that was spectacular."
"What?" Nina asked, jerking her head back a little, resting her hands on her curvy hips. She furrowed her brow and glared at me.
"The whole 'tongue to nose' trick. Spectacular!"
"What?" she asked again, touching the tip of her lovely nose and realizing it was wet. "Oh, shit ... don't tell me I'm doing that again!"
"Again?" I inquired, enjoying the way she blushed. I noticed her nipples had hardened and poked through her tight shirt. They looked long and delicious.
"That's none of your business," she snarled before I even asked her to explain. "Just fix the report by Friday, ok?"
"Your wish ..." I started but she darted back to her desk by the boss' door. She'd walked quickly and her skirt had tightened around her bottom and her buns looked smooth and firm. Nina sat down and slouched a bit in her seat, hiding behind a folder, obviously embarrassed by what I'd noticed.
I wanted to know more.
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The name's Zeke Holland -- Ezechiel, for those who matter. Restructuring at my former job prompted me to seek new employment, and a recent break-up followed by a failed romance with my roommate at the time were all the push I needed to jump a plane and "go west," as they told the young man. So, although I wasn't so young, here I was in Alberta, working for an ad company, trying to make the tar sands a palatable resource. I worked on the logistics side of things, analyzing budget expenditures. My functions led me to meet Nina.
I've already told you about her -- total hottie, as the kids say these days. As for me, I'm leaner and firmer than I was. My middle aged paunch slowly melted away under a regimen of tennis, swimming and working out, but my receding blond hairline had not grown back. Not much more for me to do during the cold winter months since I wasn't the snow sports kind of guy. But my time with Dannie, my old roommate and lover, showed me the importance of regaining a healthy body weight.
Dannie once described me as a cranky army sergeant with soft blue eyes. I was hoping Nina would feel the same way. That I was 15 years her senior was going to be a hurdle, though.
I also had a bad habit of kidding myself -- should I follow my dick and humiliate myself by chasing the office bombshell who could have her pick of the litter, or should I act my age?
But then again, new city and new environment, so maybe time for a new me.
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Friday came along and the report had been handed in and I was in the employee lounge, wasting time away, hurtling birds at green pigs when I caught sight of Nina walking by -- she wore tight jeans, her traditional heels and a tight tee sporting a Flames logo. I wondered if she was a puck bunny.
A weird impulse grabbed me: I switched off the game I was playing and dialed the mobile web address of this streaming vid site I knew. I pulled my headphones from my pocket and plugged them into the smartphone's jack and started a video. I glanced over the edge of the screen and noticed Nina walking by a few more times, curiously watching at me as I shifted in my lounge sofa.
Finally, Nina walked into the lounge and gave me an odd "once over" before tapping my foot with her sexy shoe. I popped one of the ear buds and looked up at her. I felt a rush of heat surge through me and my hardening cock twitched as I met her eyes.
"Hey ... Can I help you?" I asked. The neon lights in the ceiling flickered.
"I just wanted to tell you -- the boss was impressed with your report."
"Thanks. Did you tell her about the errors you pointed out?"
"She knows I look over every report," Nina said while sitting down next to me. She crossed her legs and stretched her arms across the back of the sofa. "She likes the way you write. Tone, context ... You'd think you were a pro. It makes for interesting reading."
"High praise," I retorted. I proceeded to continue with me experiment -- I put the bud back into my ear and increased the volume and let the moans of classic Hyapatia Lee fill my ears and the sight of her nubile tongue sinking into the pussy of a lovely Colleen Brennan as they relived Chaucer's naughty classic.
Without thinking I stretched my legs and rested the phone on my waist and enjoyed vintage porn under Nina's watchful eye. I don't know how much time went by as I got my fill of classic professional fuckers until I felt a delicate hand on my shoulder. I glanced up and Nina was staring intently at the screen, her tongue slipping out of her mouth and reaching for her nose.
"That's not ... appropriate," Nina said, her voice more a whisper than a reproach.
"This?" I pointed at the screen. "Just a hobby. And my lunch time is my free time, right?"
I felt her fingers dig into the hard muscles of my neck. "Next time, leave your hobby at home ..."
"Noted. By the way, you're doing the nose thing again."
"I know."
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Since it was Friday, it was also happy hour at the local drinking hole. A little place called McCauley's, about 2 streets from the office. I'd heard through the grapevine that Nina was going to make an appearance, something she did every few weeks or so. I'd planned to stop by after work, but I'd fallen behind and five extra hours later, I debated walking into the bar or not.
The joint was part Irish pub, part honky tonk -- it was warm tonight and music seeped from the opened door. Music and the smell of stale beer and drowned dreams. It'd been casual Friday so my faded blue jeans and black shirt were à propos for a sortie on the town -- so armed I entered the bar. A cold Molson draught would be good.
An eclectic group of patrons populated the joint, spread out about the tables, the bar and the small dance floor. Amidst the revelers, I recognized some workmates, there were also some biker types and jocks haunting the more secretive corners of the establishment. Ladies were also out in full regalia -- seductive and vindictive were the young ones and lonely and reflective were the older ones. I surprised myself at such a reflection -- I sauntered up to the bar and screamed in drink-speak my order. The barmaid, a lovely young blond with big glossy lips and an equally large bust, slipped me a 12 oz. glass of Molson beer and I slipped her the money and a generous tip as she generously let me stare down her halter.
I started to walk around the bar -- it'd filled up a bit and some weird Hank Williams/Lady Gaga hybrid was luring partyers to the dance floor. I stopped and shook hands with colleagues who'd braved the late evening crowd and that's when I saw her.
Nina stood surrounded by three young bucks, each dressed in loose jeans and graphic covered shirts. Their handsome faces were adorned with cleverly trimmed beards and their hair wore the disheveled look so popular these days. I had a five o'clock shadow and my hair was a close-cropped buzz cut. I watched her as she danced -- she was beautiful under the colorful light but she was obviously drunk by the way she clung onto one of the guys. He was clinging on to her ass. That's when I noticed one of his companions slip something into the glass resting next to her purse. Shit ...
I just acted. I slammed the glass of draught on a table and beelined for the dance floor. The guy who slipped whatever it was in her glass held it to Nina. She was about to sip her drink when I got to her. She noticed me and smiled -- the smile on the guys' faces faded, though. The guy holding her glass stopped smiling all together after I grabbed his wrist and twisted it sharply downwards. He yelped in pain and dropped the glass as his momentum carried him into an arm lock and I shoved him face-first onto a table. He grunted in pain and I fought the urge to break his wrist. The old training kicked in and when I felt a savage grip on my right shoulder I glanced down for a split second and recognized the leather bracelet worn by the guy Nina'd been clinging too.
I felt like I'd stepped out of my body as some deep anger inside me boiled to the surface. As the hand on my shoulder started to twist me around, I twisted my hips sharply into his movement while bringing my elbow up -- this broke his grip and gave me an opening: my arm straightened but my fingers curled inwards and my hack connected with the side of his nose and his upper lip. His head jerked backwards and blood flowed from his split lip and I hoped he swallowed a few of his teeth. My hand continued in an opposite arc and connected with the awkwardly bent hand of the guy I held against the table. I felt bones give way beneath my blow as his grunts became moans.
I couldn't believe I was turning into some half-cocked knight in shining armor for a woman I barely knew but desperately desired. I turned to face the third guy and my eyes met Nina's. Shock pierced her drunken stare when she assuredly read the coldness of my gaze. Even the third guy hesitated for a split second when he met my eyes before he took his shot. It was already too late -- I crashed my foot just below the knee of his farther most leg, causing him to lose balance. I rushed forward, grabbed the back of his head and pulled it down sharply while lifting my knee. They crashed together and he howled as his nose and cheek bone broke after three swift knee lifts.
The entire altercation lasted a few seconds and by the time the bouncers arrived I'd grabbed Nina and I was leading her past a crowd of flashing cellphone cameras. I tried my best to shield our faces till I was confronted by a rather large bouncer.
"Those guys," I pointed at the moaning heap I'd left. "They're using mickeys and GHB. Call the cops!"
Our eyes locked for a second and the bouncer must have sized up the way I was holding Nina -- his brow furrowed. "C'mon man," I pleaded, "I'm taking her home. That's all." He nodded and signaled us to go while making hand gestures to coordinate his team.
Nina was dazed as we crossed the street towards the parking space where my 2002 Corolla waited. I lead her into the passenger seat and dashed around to the driver's side. One I got in the car I started to shake as the adrenaline rush of the violence died down. I found a water bottle and took a deep swallow, allowing the cool flow take the edge off.
"Shee-it," Nina said as she opened her eyes wide as she tried to clear her thoughts. "This guy just went ape-shit Rambo in there and those guys just went poof!" her words were slurred and her booze reeking breath filled the car.
"Did you see.." she started before trailing off, realizing I was in the car. "Zeke? That was you."
"Hey, Nina. So, where do you live again?"
