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Tipping Point -- Chapter 1: Blow by Blow

Chapter 1: Blow by Blow

October 12th Thursday evening.

Tick, tick tick... the minutes pass by while Nick lies on his back, staring at the white ceiling fan that hovers above.
He raises his head, bats his eye lashes, and yawns. His long, wavy, auburn hair falls down his back with small curls.
He looks down at the hard surface beneath his body. The smooth, glossy, granite top on which he lies upon covers a large oak desk. Aside from a small, red and gold pillow, he's uncomfortable. To himself, “Why did she ask me to lay here?”

Nick pivots his neck to spy the office that he is inside of. He didn't take much time to look around when he arrived. Before his eyes can examine much, he hears a click. He turns his head to his right to see her walk in.
She walks through the doorway and finds him lying where she expected. She smiles. With a look of thirst and appreciation in her eyes, she speaks to him with an eager voice, “Hello, Bitch.”
Her sudden use of that word, leads him to question if he made the right choice. After a moment's hesitation, he responds timidly, “Hello, Brandy.”

She turns to face the door. “Did you wait long?”

He lies. “No.”

With a life of its own, her long, shiny black hair sways an inch above her round, sculptured ass, while she closes the door. He stares at her frame. Her pants seem stretched; they hug every curve. She turns back to face him. Spotting her unsightly bulge, his eyes widen.

Seeing his gaze and slack jaw, she chuckles quietly.
Walking towards him with a renewed smile, she looks down at his nearly unclothed body. Her eyes ricochet left and right, scanning his delicate frame. The movement of her eyes cause him to remember his convenient attire. He has an undesirable apprehension of how complete her view is.

Her eyes return to his. Her voice is very sensual. “You look like an oversexed Christmas present. The pink ribbons were the right color and their wide enough to hide your naughty bits.” Her piercing gaze gives him an unsettling mix of desire and vulnerability. Hesitantly, ”I'm glad you're pleased.”

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