


Midnight: Exposed

by slyc_willie



Category: Chain Stories
Published: 2007-04-16
Updated: 2007-04-16
Packaged: 2017-05-07 22:50:33
Chapters: 1
Publisher: literotica.com
Story URL: https://www.literotica.com/s/midnight-exposed
Author URL:
https://www.literotica.com/stories/memberpage.php?uid=748325&page=submissions
Summary: The things that happen away from home.
Erotica Tags: Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Midnight, Nudity, Public, Voyeurism
Average Rating: 4.53






        Midnight: Exposed


_"Midnight ..." A Chain Story.  
  
Introduction:  
  
On March 1, 2007, fireyjen posted a thread with her idea for a chain story,
soliciting interested authors. Shortly afterwards, fieryjens' ISP started
giving her problems and she cannot get online, so on her behalf we thought we
could give her a hand. The premise is that in each story the main character
awakes at the stroke of midnight, or around that time. It can be a creaking
floorboard, a rattling doorknob, a clap of thunder, a flash of lightning or
just a feeling of unease and dread.  
  
From this common beginning, each author is free to weave his or her own
storylines culminating at midnight after 24 hours. Each story will be in a
different Literotica category, with virtually all represented. All stories are
titled "Midnight: (and the author's story identifier). After the initial New
Story posting, all submissions will be in the Chain Story category.  
  
We hope you enjoy this varied selection of stories by Literotica authors and
your votes and comments are welcome. Below is an updated schedule of the
stories.  
  
TE999 &amp; geekychick_76 on behalf of fieryjen._  
  
* * * * *   
  
"Dan Tanner," he said after stepping up to the counter at the La Quinta Inn.
The flight had been a long one, with two connections and more than six hours
in the air, three on the ground. He had left home eleven hours earlier; it was
now almost nine at night. Dan's face was weary and haggard, with a shadow of
stubble and the greasy sheen of Illinois humidity making his skin shine.  
  
The middle-aged Asian woman was prompt and professional, calling up Dan's
information on the computer before her. She cheerily handed him his room key.  
  
"Dan Tanner," she repeated in her accented voice, dark eyes glittering above a
playful smile. "Like that 70s TV show."  
  
Dan tried his best not to look annoyed. "That was Dan Tanna," he corrected.  
  
"Oh . . . ." she trailed off, still smiling. "Well, I hope you enjoy your
stay, Mr. Tanner. Room 207."  
  
He grumbled something along the order of a 'thank you' and headed through the
doorway toward the stairwell. Room 207 was, thankfully, not too far from the
second-floor door, opposite of which was a little nook with vending machines.
Dan slipped the plastic card into the slot and pushed open the door.  
  
_Thank God_, he thought as he felt the cool air within the room. _They left
the AC on_. The curtains covering the window on the opposite side of the room
billowed out, filled with the chilly air being blasted up from the
undermounted unit. Dan felt the oily drops on his forehead cool immediately;
he anticipated a long shower before lounging back upon one of the two beds in
the room, comfortably naked, eating microwave popcorn and watching 'Adult
Swim.'  
  
The shower did wonders, washing away the sweat and the dank air of the
airplane that seemed to have soaked into his pores. He brushed his teeth, but
did not bother with shaving. That could wait for the morning.  
  
Still, the stiffness was leaving his muscles and the cool air felt delicious
on his skin. Dan took up the remote, standing naked in his room as he flipped
through the channels. He watched a few moments of Discovery Health before
settling on Comedy Central. The weariness in his body overcame him quickly
enough, and he was soon asleep even before _Tripping The Rift_ was over . . .
.  
  
***  
  
He jerked awake with a start, finding that he had tangled himself in the
sheets and floral-print blanket atop the bed. The AC was still blasting, and
now the room felt cold. Gritting his teeth in discomfort, Dan rolled from the
bed and roughly twisted the dial to turn the air off.  
  
The spiderwebs of whatever dream that had jolted him awake drifted away,
leaving only a few ethereal images that danced in the back of his mind. The
television was flickering with images of talking french fries and stoned-
looking cartoon characters. Dan took a moment to let himself return fully to
reality, rubbing his eyes and temples. A glance to the clock between the two
beds in the room told him it was exactly midnight. The Witching Hour.  
  
Hunger inexplicably gnawed at him, as well as thirst. He smacked sticky, dry
lips and thought of the vending machines just down the hall from his room. The
lure of sugar and sodium called to him like a siren song. Irresistible, like
seeing a rack of personalized lighters at the counter of a convenience store.  
  
He considered slipping his slacks back on and donning a shirt, but the vending
machines were just a few steps down the hall. It was after midnight, after
all, one minute past, to be exact; the chance of anyone being out in the
corridors was slim.  
  
_Fuck it_, Dan thought, snatching up the towel he'd tossed on the bed. It just
encircled his waist, with enough slack to tie the ends together. He looked at
himself in the mirror and chuckled. _Have to make sure not to make any sudden
moves_, he thought.  
  
Key card and a few crumpled dollar bills in hand, Dan stepped from his door
and padded on bare feet down the carpeted hallway. A mild thrill coursed
through him as he felt a gentle breeze flowing over his body. The thought of
being nearly naked, with the faint possibility of someone opening their door
and catching him, sparked a tinge of arousal.  
  
The reason for the breeze became apparent once he reached the nook with the
vending machines. A door on the other side of the enclosure had been propped
open by a trash can; Dan was not sure if it had been that way when he had
first come up from the lobby. The fresh air was cool but not cold, carrying a
scent of ozone with it. He remembered something about the Chicago weather
report saying that rain was a possibility.  
  
The faint breeze tugged at his towel like the hands of mischievous imps as he
fed the vending machines the dollar bills. He glanced to the open door as he
retrieved his Diet Coke and M&amp;Ms. The sign on the wall beside the doorway
read 'Stairs and Roof Access.'  
  
His arousal spiked again as a memory came back, pulled up from one and a half
decades of dormancy. Sophomore year in college, drinking with his buddies,
being dared to streak through Hollings Hall in nothing but his tennis shoes .
. . .  
  
Dan laughed at the memory. He remembered the shocked, giggling, and sometimes
interested looks the young coeds had given him as they watched him running
through the dorm. Word had spread quickly, and girls were soon peeking out of
every door. Some had even smacked his butt as he darted past. That single
night, never repeated, had earned him the nickname 'Flash.'  
  
His parents had always assumed it was because of his track records.  
  
The lingering exhilaration of exhibitionism returned with the memory, enticing
him. Dan eyed the stairwell speculatively. He knew that the reasonable course
of action would be to return to his room, watch a little TV, maybe jack off if
that was what it took to satisfy his libido.  
  
But he had spent most of his twenties and all of his thirties being
'reasonable.' A reasonable job, a reasonable salary, a reasonable marriage
that had not worked out . . . .  
  
_Fuck it, _thought Dan once more as he stepped toward the stairwell_. I'm a
thousand miles from home. If I can't break out of my mold here, then where can
I?_  
  
* * *  
  
Nicole Teske – called Nikki, or, by her room mate, _Nik-Nik_ – had just come
up the stairs to the second floor when she saw the well-built man heading to
the opposite stairwell, past the vending machines. It took her a moment to
register what she was seeing: a nearly-naked man, wearing only a towel,
walking as comfortably and calmly as if he were alone in his house. A moment
later, he was gone, turning past the other side of the doorway toward the
stairs beyond.  
  
Nikki blinked, feeling a slight rush rumble its way through her body. There
was no accounting for it, none that she could rationalize. She had seen men in
towels before; at twenty-six, she was hardly a virgin, and had enjoyed her
share of wild times . . . and men. But there was something about this man in
just a towel. His body, his casual confidence, the movement of muscles beneath
his skin. He was sexy.  
  
The plastic bag in Nikki's hand felt heavy, laden with munchies and cigarettes
from the corner store down the street. She knew she should have gone back to
her room to work on the details of the presentation she was due to give the
following morning at the Insurance Adjusters convention. She was in Chicago on
business, after all. This was not a vacation.  
  
_But all work and no play makes Nikki a dull girl_, she thought with a
mischievous tug at the corners of her mouth. _Oh, hell, he's probably just
going to his room . . . upstairs . . . ._  
  
_But wouldn't they have their own vending machines on the third floor?_  
  
* * *  
  
Dan paused at the third-floor landing, looking up toward the roof access door
thirteen steps above him. Excitement mingled with anxiety made him feel his
heart thumping in his chest. The door stood wide-open, and for a moment, Dan
wondered if there was some maintenance worker on the roof. The breeze blowing
down through the door swept across him more firmly, almost threatening to
divest him of the towel. Reflexively, he clutched at the knot that held it in
place, and ascended the stairs.  
  
The roof was dark, bathed in shadow, with streetlight streaming up from below,
creating a pale whitish haze just beyond the edge of the roof. Moonlight fell
upon the gravel that covered the roof, providing just enough light that Dan
could see where his feet took him. His relatively pale skin glowed slightly.  
  
His eyes darted about, looking for the phantom maintenance man. But the
shadows did not stir; there was no one about. Dan wondered as to why the roof
door would be allowed to remain open, then decided it was not worth wondering
why.  
  
_This is serendipity, _he thought_. One of those moments in life when you're
handed a golden apple. So, are you going to take a bite of forbidden fruit,
Dan? Or are you going to throw the apple away and go back to safer pastures?_  
  
A wicked grin split Dan's face. Stepping carefully, he avoided the larger
pieces of gravel and made his way to the middle of the roof, leaving the door
glowing and open behind him. The crisp air, stronger now with the scent of
ozone, caressed him. It was a sensual feeling, one he wanted to feel
everywhere. He stooped for a moment, setting his soda and candy on the roof,
then straightened and removed the towel.  
  
"Ahh . . . ."  
  
The moment the damp night air touched his genitals, Dan felt his arousal grow
exponentially. The thrill of being naked, outdoors at night, with hundreds of
people below him in the hotel none the wiser, was indescribable. He could hear
unintelligible voices drifting up from the parking lot below, which was shared
by the hotel with a diner. There were no buildings near enough to threaten Dan
with the chance of being casually spotted.  
  
He was safely hidden from casual eyes, yet still exposed. The exhilaration was
palpable to him; he could touch it, and it touched back, running over his
body, stroking, caressing, urging him.  
  
He closed his eyes, extended his arms, tilted his head back. He felt the
radiance of the moon, glowing with reflected light from the sun on the other
side of the world. Cotton-like wisps of cloudstuff drifted across the moon's
surface, blurring the face upon it that smiled down upon him.  
  
_Oh, to be the Moon_, Dan thought. _Watching the world below, seeing
everything in its entirety. What secrets you must know . . . ._  
  
A car pulled into the parking lot below, speakers blaring music. Nine Inch
Nails. Dan chuckled. He remembered when Trent Reznor's 'industrial' sound was
new; now, almost twenty years later, his music was timeless, raw. It seemed
the perfect compliment for what Dan was doing.  
  
He began with small movements at first, just taking in the music as it was
filtered up to him through the chaos of traffic on the highway. Somewhere
distant, thunder rumbled, but it only added to the powerful beat and grinding
message of the music.  
  
_"The only thing that works for me/_  
  
_Help me get away from myself . . . ."_  
  
Dan had never considered himself much of a dancer; he had decidedly 'white
boy' moves, and knew it. Dancing was part of the urban nightlife mating
ritual, to which Dan never felt he belonged. But there were times, like now,
alone and naked in the world, in which he could feel the music directing him.
Without the self-conscious anxiety of knowing others were watching him, Dan
let his body, his hands, move in ways that might have otherwise embarrassed
him.  
  
The idea of letting go was an even more powerful aphrodisiac than his nudity,
and he went with it, allowing himself to be free and expressive.  
  
All without the knowledge that he was being watched the entire time.  
  
* * *  
  
Nikki's hunch had paid off, and she allowed herself a congratulatory grin as
she peered around the corner of the doorway, watching the man on the roof. He
was less than twenty feet away, bathed in moonlight, silhouetted against the
world by the ghostly glow that shimmered at the edge of the rooftop. Naked, he
looked even more delicious than when he'd had the towel on.  
  
She could just hear the pounding, erotic beat of Nine Inch Nails emanating
from somewhere below, and could not blame the man for being inspired by the
music. She had a special place in her erotic memories for the carnal music;
she'd once made love to an ex-boyfriend throughout the entire course of a NIN
album. They had been the strongest orgasms she had ever experienced.  
  
_He moves like a male stripper,_ Nikki thought, watching the man with all the
naughty excitement of a child peering upon Santa Claus as presents were laid
by the tree. _Damn, he's got nice arms, strong, muscular . . . and a butt I
could nibble on all day . . . ._  
  
Nikki held back a gasp as he turned in profile to her. His penis was semi-
hard, hanging down thickly at an angle from his body. His pubic hair was like
a wispy dark cloud around the base. Nikki felt her own excitement growing,
wetness seeping into her panties as she watched the man's cock grow and
stiffen. His hands wandered up and down his body as he danced, occasionally
brushing his swelling shaft.  
  
_Oh, God, please_, she thought, licking her lips in anticipation. _Please do
it . . . ._  
  
The sight of a man masturbating had always turned Nikki on. As a teenager, she
had caught her older brother pleasuring himself one day in his bedroom, and
watched through the crack of his slightly-open door as his strong hand stroked
up and down his cock. The sight of his semen spurting from the tip of his dick
onto his stomach had made Nikki weak in the knees.  
  
Her boyfriends had often been reluctant to indulge her fantasy of watching a
man jack off, and Nikki pined for the day in which she could catch another man
masturbating. Now, finally, she had her chance.  
  
"Do it," she whispered, then caught her breath, afraid the man might have
heard her. But he did not; he was still caught up in his own fantasy world.  
  
Subconsciously, Nikki slipped her hand beneath her skirt, rubbing herself
through the thong that barely covered her pussy, in anticipation of watching
this handsome stranger do what she so ardently hoped he would . . . .  
  
* * *  
  
Dan couldn't believe how aroused he was. The combination of being naked
outdoors, with the night air lusciously flowing around him, the fresh, charged
air, the music . . . his libido was in high gear, sending messages to his
groin. As he danced, Dan looked down to his crotch to see his cock engorged to
its full impressive length. It swayed back and forth, gloriously enjoying the
feel of the wind and ozone-charged air.  
  
He smoothed his hands down his torso, still muscular and flat even in his mid-
thirties, and gathered his cock and balls in his hands. He breathed in, biting
his lip, calling up a fantasy. His cock twitched as his hand wrapped around
the shaft. Slowly, he began pumping it. Pre-cum seeped from the tip; he could
actually see it glistening in the moonlight. The fingers of his other hand
pressed into his balls, massaging them, sending erotic chills through his
body.  
  
He rolled his hips in time with the music that wafted up to him; no longer
Nine Inch Nails, now it was Stabbing Westward. Maybe the sensuality of the
music wasn't as direct, but it remained basically raw and inspiring.  
  
His left hand joined his right around his shaft, gripping it tightly, and he
kept them still as he moved his hips. His fantasy conjured up some willing and
uninhibited slut, on her knees, accepting his thrusts into her mouth. His cock
slid back and forth in his tight, two-handed grip, lubricated by the precum
seeping out. He groaned in pleasure. Every nerve in his body tingled with
excitement.  
  
* * *  
  
Nikki whimpered as she watched the man masturbating. The entire scene was just
too much for her; her pussy was literally dripping, sweet fluid soaking into
the material of her thong. Hurriedly, no longer caring if her movements caught
the man's attention, she reached beneath her skirt and slid the undergarment
down, feeling the silk fabric cling to her swollen lips for a moment before
they were falling to her ankles. Her hand returned instantly to her overheated
pussy, stroking the lips. The aroma of her arousal surrounded her.  
  
_God, just look at him_, she thought. _Oh, fuck, he's so sexy . . . and what a
beautiful thick cock . . . damn, I could suck and fuck that thing all day and
be happy . . . oh!_  
  
Her mental gasp became a real one, and once more, Nikki bit her lip to hold
back any further utterances. She could not remember a time when she had been
more turned on. Her juices literally dribbled down the insides of her thighs
as she stroked her pussy. Her clit buzzed each time her fingers passed over
it; the lubrication she exuded allowed the tips of her French-nailed fingers
to slip inside her with ease.  
  
Leaning with one shoulder against the doorway, Nikki arched her back, pushing
up on the tips of her toes as she spread her legs and plunged two fingers
inside her needy pussy. Her palm smacked wetly against her stiff clit. Her
eyes were heavy with lust, yet she was determined not to miss a moment as the
man – _this gorgeous fucking man_ – masturbated before her. Images of being in
front of him, on her knees, or bent over, letting him take her, ravish her,
_fuck_ her, filled her mind.  
  
Her orgasm was already building, rolling fast and sure and undeniable through
her body. Nikki only hoped its arrival would not distract her, would not rob
her of a single moment.  
  
* * *  
  
The rest of the world became tuned out; Dan wasn't hearing the music anymore,
wasn't thinking of anything but the pleasure of the moment. And what pleasure
it was. Masturbating upon the roof of a hotel, bathed in moonglow, crisp night
air caressing his body like the hands of sexy, invisible muses . . . .  
  
He felt his balls tighten, his orgasm beginning its slow, inexorable march up
through his cock, just as the first drops of rain fell upon him. The added
sensation only heightened the eroticism of the moment. The rain began to fall
in earnest, deluging him. It soaked into his hair and ran in rivulets down his
body. Some of the stinging drops pelted the tip of his cock, making him twitch
in pleasure.  
  
There came a crack of thunder, a flash of lightning directly overhead. Just at
the moment of release, Dan pressed the middle finger of his left hand into the
base of his cock, stemming the eruption for a moment. He felt his PC muscle
contract and flex, pushing up the fluid. For a moment, he held his orgasm in
check, grunting with the effort.  
  
Then he brought his hands away, and let the flood gates erupt.  
  
* * *  
  
The glistening water flowing down over the stranger's body only accentuated
his sexiness. Here was a modern god, Nikki thought, primal and earthy,
uninhibited and arousing. At home with his sexuality, enjoying his own body
the way Nikki wished she could. She loved the way the rain washed over him,
accentuating his corded muscles, making that _fucking gorgeous_ cock glisten.  

Nikki could tell the man was close to cumming, just as she was. Her eyes
blazed as she locked her gaze upon his cock, watching it throb and pulse,
jutting out with such incredible stiffness. She could just imagine the feel of
that rock-hard cock filling her pussy, or her mouth, could just imagine the
anticipation of the rush of fluid that was about to come.  
  
And then it did.  
  
Nikki gasped aloud, whimpering and moaning as her own orgasm took hold of her,
commanding her, dominating her, as she watched the thick pulses of fluid jet
from the head of the man's cock. First came a mighty arc of glowing milky
fluid that shot a good four or so feet into the air. Then another, less
powerful, burst, then another, and another. The man's face was contorted in
sweet orgasmic rapture; Nikki whimpered vicariously.  
  
"Oh, Jesus!" moaned Nikki, madly fucking herself with her fingers. Her inner
muscles contracted, sucking hard on her fingers, her clit pulsed and spasmed.
Fluid gushed into her palm, flowed down the insides of her thighs. Nikki
gasped again, not caring about the noise she was making. Her entire body
rolled and bucked, as if she was being fucked. She clutched her pussy in her
hand, squeezing it savagely. She could feel the slippery puddle of cum in the
palm of her hand, loved the way it dripped over her fingers.  
  
She finally opened her eyes, not realizing she had squeezed them shut as she
came. Her vision was blurry, but she made the effort to focus.  
  
And when she did, she found that the man was looking directly at her.  
  
* * *  
  
Dan did not know what to say or do. His orgasm had been intense, one of the
strongest and most consuming he had ever experienced. It left him light-headed
and breathless, but not completely without his faculties.  
  
At some point, he had heard feminine gasps and moans above the sounds of the
storm, but had not truly registered them. But once he was spent, with his cock
softening and dripping to the gravel below, reality began to return. He shook
rainwater from his face, blinking away heavy droplets.  
  
He looked to the doorway, and saw her. A slender young woman, leaning against
the frame, clad in a loose blouse and frilly little skirt, the latter bunched
up around her waist, revealing naked thighs and hips. The position of her
right hand between her legs left no doubt as to what she was doing, and the
expression on her face registered naught but bliss.  
  
Then her eyes opened, and met his. Bliss switched to shock in an instant.  
  
Dan's mouth worked for a moment as he tried to speak, tried to come up with
something to say. His emotions were jumbled; should he feel embarrassed, or
proud? Ashamed or flattered? This woman in the doorway, with her short brown
hair and wide dark eyes, her hand gripping her crotch beneath her skirt, had
obviously enjoyed what she had seen. Yet social mores told Dan he should feel
chastised.  
  
"Look—" he began, intending to explain, not that he would know how.  
  
"Oh, shit!" exclaimed the woman, and without another word, she turned and
bolted down the stairs, snatching up a plastic bag along the way. Her
movements allowed Dan to catch sight of her naked ass beneath the skirt, but
only for a brief, delicious moment.  
  
Dan started for the door, then winced and cursed as a large piece of gravel
bit into his foot. Hobbling, he made it to the doorway, taking up his drenched
soda, candy and towel along the way. He leaned against the frame, brought up
his foot, and plucked a sharp dark stone from the pad between his first two
toes. There was no blood; Dan had earned his calluses through nearly two
decades working on his feet. Still, the superficial wound stung.  
  
Dan took in a breath, let it out. The cacophony of the rain just outside the
door drowned out the hammering in his chest. The air chilled his rain-slicked
body. He wrapped the soggy towel around his waist, his mind working to make
sense of what had happened. He was not sure how to react to the knowledge that
he had been watched by a pretty young woman as he masturbated. Shame,
excitement, intrigue, and arousal all fought for prominence in his mind.  
  
Then he noticed the silver-grey thong on the floor, just inside the doorway.
Dropped, no doubt, by the woman.  
  
With a sly smile, Dan bent and retrieved it. Even before he brought it to his
nose, he could smell the ripe, tangy fragrance upon it. The fabric was
saturated; the woman's scent was ripe and pure. Impulsively, Dan licked the
tiny gusset, getting a taste of the woman who had watched him.  
  
With a cocky smile, Dan headed back down the stairs, sniffing the skimpy
garment as he went.  
  
* * *  
  
"Dan Tanner? Hi. Greg Raleigh. You're a little early for your presentation."  
  
Dan smiled, shook the short, pudgy man's hand. "Early is on time, on time is
late, and late is not acceptable," he said, remembering his old military
training. That, too, seemed like a lifetime ago.  
  
Raleigh gave a confused smile and shrugged. "Uh, right," he said. He lead Dan
through a short hallway in the hotel toward a closed door. "There's another
presentation going on right now, and then there'll be fifteen minutes for you
to get set up. Um . . . anything you need?"  
  
Dan shook his head with a confident grin. He patted the leather satchel he
carried. "Nope. Got everything I need right here."  
  
Raleigh nodded, then stepped away, eyeing a group of suit-clad men nearby. Dan
let the man excuse himself, then mentally went over what he was to say to a
group of weary, conservative businessmen who had already seen the 'be all and
end all' of the insurance biz.  
  
But Dan really did not care about how well his presentation would be received.
His mind was on the night before. He could still smell the rich fragrance of
his voyeur's arousal in his senses. The banalities of his professional life
paled in comparison to the excitement he had experienced the evening before.  
  
Finally, Dan was allowed into the conference room that had been rented for the
convention. Men and women in business suits, their expressions hard and
professional, lingered in the room as Dan went about the mechanical operations
of setting up his presentation. It took him only a few minutes, since the
projector was already on and primed. He set out his transparencies, went over
his notes, and waited for the attendees to file in.  
  
Raleigh spoke with him for a moment, diverting Dan's attention from those who
filled the seats. The forty-something organizer of the convention went over
basic protocols and clued Dan in on some of the dignitaries in attendance,
then stepped back.  
  
Dan cleared his throat, took a drink of water before addressing the room. His
eyes scanned over the stolid, blank faces that watched him. Most were men.  
  
"Gentlemen," he began, then added, as he noted at least one woman in the first
couple of rows: "And ladies. Thank you for coming. I'll try not to make this
presentation on claim adjustment procedures as boring as some of those you've
heard already."  
  
There were a couple of chuckles in response to his opening. Dan forced an
amiable smile as he looked out upon his audience. Most of the faces looked
bored, yet professionally expectant. "All right, then, let's get on with . . .
it . . . ."  
  
Dan's words trailed off as he spied one face amongst the crowd, a face he had
seen the night before, face flushed and glowing with orgasmic rouge, round
dark eyes drinking him in with lust and longing. Now, those eyes were softer,
more sly, the smile beneath them impish and knowing. She wore a tasteful
business suit, like the others around her, but her mere presence was arousing.  
  
Dan swallowed nervously, capturing the woman's eyes. Then he smiled, upon
seeing her encouraging look. He cleared his voice. "Yes," he said. "Let's get
on with it."  
  
* * *  
  
Dan felt the presentation had gone well. He'd had some good ideas that had
sparked some discussion, and for that, he was glad. But as much as he enjoyed
sharing his insights and insurance business savvy with dyed-in-the-wool old-
timers, what was really on his mind was the attentions, and intentions, of the
pretty brunette who watched him with knowing eyes all through the
presentation.  
  
". . . very informative, Mr. Tanner," said a heavy-jowled man as he took Dan's
hand. "I like your approach to handling personal claims. Very original, and
efficient. I've left my card for you."  
  
Dan nodded, even as he glanced past the rotund old businessman to the brunette
behind him, waiting patiently for her turn. He shook the man's hand, thanked
him. The bulldog of a man sauntered away, allowing the woman behind him to
approach.  
  
"Hi," she said simply, cocking her head to the side. She had cut her hair
short, while leaving long wispy bangs that just barely graced her eyelashes.
It was a look that combined sensuality with intelligence in Dan's mind.  
  
"Hi," he said back. "Did you enjoy the presentation?"  
  
She pursed her lips, suppressing a smile. "Not as much as the one I saw last
night."  
  
Dan drew in a deep breath, feeling his arousal being triggered. He could feel
his cheeks burning slightly. "Oh. Really."  
  
She nodded slowly, never taking her glittering dark eyes from Dan's. "Really."  
  
Dan cleared his throat, not sure of how to respond. "I'm Daniel Tanner," he
said professionally, extending his hand. "West coast branch of—"  
  
"Nicole Teske," she said quickly, taking his hand. Her eyes bore into his,
conveying volumes of interest and desire. Her cheeks darkened slightly. "Call
me Nikki."  
  
Dan caressed her fingers with his own, staring into those sexy round orbs.
"Nice to meet you . . . Nikki."  
  
She blushed, just a little, her eyes dipping a moment. "I think you have
something of mine," she said cagily.  
  
Dan couldn't help but smile. He knew what she meant, of course. In fact, the
tiny thong was, at present, balled up in the pocket of his professional dress
slacks. "I think I do," he said.  
  
Nikki bit her lip. "So . . . ."  
  
Dan arched an eyebrow. "'So?'" he countered.  
  
Nikki gave him a catlike grin. "So . . . meet me on the roof tonight," she
said in a breathless voice, barely audible. "And you can give them back."  
  
Dan slowly smiled with knowing. "I will," he said.  
  
_-finis-_




End file.

