Push Me Ch. 01

Apparently, they figured that since I was outnumbered three to one, and since I was older than them, I'd back down. They didn't realize I had attracted the attention of half the bar. They took several steps toward me, and I realized my plan had worked. Almost everyone playing pool had turned in that direction. Several people with pool cues in their hands took a step in my direction, glaring at the three douches. One of them was smart enough to realize the odds were now nowhere near what they thought they were. He whispered to the apparent leader of the group. "They won't do shit!" He sneered at his buddy. The pool crowd surged another step toward them, and he was suddenly less certain. He glared at me, and then said, "Do you want to take this outside?"

In truth, I did. Work had kept my from my regular Muay Thai sparring session the last two weeks. Or, to put it another way, it had been three weeks since I'd kicked something as hard as I could. These three were young, and strong, and I'd take a few lumps, but I'd make sure to crush this smarmy lead asshole as quickly as possible, and I was unconcerned that I could handle the other two once that happened. Had I been forced to step in and separate them from Shelly and Moira, and one of them had thrown the first punch, I wouldn't have hesitated, but for me to agree to meet them was just asking for a lawsuit, or to be arrested for assault -- probably both. The city didn't approve of anyone beating up college students for the hell of it.

I starred him down, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. Shelly had run off as soon as they had turned toward me, and I was hoping she was as smart as I thought she was. I was right. Two very large individuals with "Security" on their black t-shirts showed up after only a few seconds. "You three, time to go," the one in the lead said. The Head Douche spun toward him furiously, and I just hoped he would throw a wild punch. When he saw a 300lb, 6'4" black guy staring him down, he changed his mind. He shot me a murderous glare, before letting his friends pull him out of the bar.

Once I was sure they were gone, I sagged. Even if you don't make much use of it, adrenaline always comes with a bill. My hands were shaking, practically vibrating, and I had zero fine motor control. I probably could have thrown a pool table though. As I pried my white-knuckled fingers off my cue, my mind was drawn back to a time I had gotten a small shot of adrenaline for a mild allergic reaction, and then almost ripped off my steering wheel on the drive home. I took a few deep breaths to steady myself, and then sucked down the remains of my drink. It was mostly water by this point though. Still, it helped.

At this point I realized Shelly and Moira were nowhere to be seen. I hoped they had gotten as far away from here as possible while those three were distracted with me. I started to break down my cue, deciding I'd had enough for tonight. If those assholes wanted to wait for me outside, I welcomed it. They'd learn a rough lesson for ruining a very pleasant evening. I wondered if I would ever see Moira and Shelly again. I rarely recognized a face in this place, aside from the bartenders. They even seemed to have new security every few weeks.

That question was answered when I heard a petulant "You're LEAVING!?" behind me. I jumped, adrenaline still coursing through my system. I heard two giggles behind me. Music to my ears, but any happiness was quickly quashed by concern for them. I could already tell Shelly was fearless, but she and Moira together were barely the size of the smallest of those three guys. I turned to face them.

"I was hoping you two had a head start home or somewhere safe. I don't want those assholes to take out anything on you two." They both melted a little, and I saw disappointment slide off their faces.

"It's Friday night, and it's early. We don't want to go home yet." There was a pleading suggestion in their eyes. I hit me like, well, a pool ball, right between the eyes. They were having a good time, maybe better than they expected, and wanted it to keep going. A good time with ME. I had never done this before, not with someone I'd met at a bar, not to mention two someones.

"Would you like to go back to my place? I have a condo near here. It's a ten minute walk, but I was thinking about grabbing a cab." I thought they had beamed at me before. I almost had to shield my eyes from the youthful joy that poured from both of them. It struck me that I hadn't been or seen someone that happy in a long time. I also realized that I would do pretty much anything to make them smile like that again.

They both nodded excitedly, and Moira gripped Shelly's arm. I finished packing my cue into its case, placed the pool balls into their plastic tray, and then headed to the bar to pay my tab. The two lovelies followed me. I could hear them giggling and whispering, but I couldn't make out anything they were saying.

While the bartender went to swipe my card, I turned to Shelly. "That was good thinking, grabbing security like that. You kept a real mess from unfolding. Those morons didn't know when to back down."

"It was Moira's idea. She saw the odds, but she didn't want you to get in trouble." I folded both of them into one big hug.

"Thank you both. I would much rather spend the rest of my night with you than with the police."

"I wanted to see you kick their asses." Shelly declared unabashedly, but then she dropped her eyes and mumbled something I missed.

Before I could ask what she said, I heard, "Sir?" from behind me. Moira's eyes focused on something over my shoulder. The bartender had my receipt to sign. I scribbled my signature, and then asked the bartender if they split the tips with security. He said they did, so I dropped a couple of twenties in the jar. They deserved it, several times over, but I still had to pay the cab, so I couldn't beggar myself with gratitude right now.

I turned to Moira and Shelly, almost giddy with how well the night was going. "Shall we?" I held out a hand to each of them. They book took my hands. I lifted them, ducked and spun under them, and ended up between them, now facing the same direction they were. I placed their hands onto my arms. Arm-in-arm-in-arm, we headed to the exit, when I was struck with the need to voice a precautionary thought. I hated to dampen the mood, but I was still concerned for their safety. "We should be able to get a cab right outside, but if you see those assholes, and it looks like it might turn bad, you two run like hell back in here. Don't worry about me. I don't want one or two of them distracting me while one comes after you. The Head Douche didn't look like he plans to let this go any time soon."

They both giggled at the Head Douche title, but I stared down both of them, completely serious, until they nodded. I was afraid I'd wrecked the mood, being so dire like that. Then Shelly decided this was an appropriate time to feel my beard. I knew right then what a skillful manipulator, and how quick-witted she was. I smiled. She had managed to lighten the mood, and show me she wasn't afraid. I felt Moira give my arm a quick squeeze. I thought I heard her say, "I'm not scared...with you here."

"It's so soft!" Shelly marveled. I chuckled.

Moira reached up tentatively and paused, before sliding the back of her hand along my jawline. "It is soft!" I chuckled again. We got a few strange looks from people as we left, and a few lecherous smiles as well. It only took a moment for an empty cab to come by. I flagged it down, and, with no sign of the douche crew, I opened the back door for Shelly and Moira. Moira slid in first, and then Shelly. As I was about to close the door, intending to climb into the front seat, I felt Shelly's hand grip my wrist and tug me toward her. No need to ask me twice. In I went. I was enjoying the proximity of bodies in the back seat, and forgot to tell the driver where we were going Eventually it dawned on me that we weren't moving, and I gave the driver my address.

Shelly apparently recognized the building, and eyed me appraisingly. It's not like this city has multimillion dollar condos on ever block, but I lived in one of the nicer, newer buildings. I like old charm, but I'd rather live among it than in it. Especially when I have to pay for the maintenance.

The cab ride only took a few minutes, and was totally silent. I could see the driver trying to figure out what was going on here. Let him wonder. Hell, let him make up the wildest story he can in his head, if it will entertain him. We pulled up at my condo. After letting the girls out, I paid the driver. I gave him everything I had left in my wallet. It made for a sizable tip, but I could not have cared less.

I recaptured two lovely young limbs, and escorted Shelly and Moira into my building. A quick elevator ride to the third floor, a short walk down the hall, and we were at my condo.

"Ladies, won't you please come in." I said as I opened the door. The main living area of my condo was pretty vanilla, but nicely decorated. A large recliner dominated the main area, and a 50" LED TV stood opposite it. Two comfy couches lined the sides of the living area. The girls eyed the kitchen appreciatively for it's shiny newness, but Moira noticed something I never would have expected.

"You make coffee in a French press," she said. "That's the only good way to make coffee, except for espresso. What kind of coffee do you use?" For an answer, I went to a cabinet and removed a vacuum-sealed plastic container. I popped the top and let her smell. She took a deep breath, and her eyes closed and rolled back into her head. "Oh, wow. Jamaican."

"No fucking way! I know you like coffee, but you cannot take one whiff of beans and know where it's from. That's bullshit."

"Shelly, she's right. This is Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee." Her jaw dropped. I turned to smile and Moira. "Maple syrup," we said simultaneously, grinning. Shelly's jaw dropped further. I held the container out for Shelly to smell.

"It does smell like maple syrup!" She shot Moira a questioning look, as if to say, 'Where else have I underestimated you.' "OK mister fancy coffee, got anything else fancy to drink around this place?" She drawled snarkily. Moira gave me an embarrassed look, but I grinned and shot her drawl right back at her.

"Well now, s'funny you mentioned it. I got me some fancy wines from Cal-i-for-ni-a." I had a decent wine selection, mostly inexpensive, everyday table wine, and I always kept a "Friday" bottle of Asti cold, but I had recently tried a Napa Valley vintage someone at work had recommended, and had become completely hooked. It wasn't outrageously expensive, so I had splurged and bought a case. Well, one of them knew coffee. Let's see what they know about wine.

I popped the cork and pulled out some wine glasses. I used normal, straight sided tumblers for table wine with meals, but I broke out the good stemware for this wine. It needed air. I poured three not shabby glasses of wine, and passed them out. Moira took hers and smiled a thank you, while Shelly just stuck out a hand distractedly. "Something wrong?" I inquired.

"Huh? Oh! No I was just wondering what the rest of your place looks like." Shelly mused, coming back to reality on the bar stood where she'd taken up residence with a start.

"Where are my manners?" I mocked myself. "Let me give you the grand tour, please. First, the guest bedroom" I led them off to the left to my guest bedroom. It was decorated in a modern, minimalist style. I hate big furniture in small rooms, and the price of three bedrooms in this area on my budget was a small third bedroom. So I made it work. "And here's the guest bath."

Seeing it apparently tripped something. They both took a hurried step toward it, and then froze, seeing the other doing the same thing.

"Well, go on girl." Shelly said, slapping her friend on the butt. Moira skipped forward into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. "So, this place is really nice, and this wine is really good, too. Can I ask you what you do?"

"I'm a geek for Lexington Medical Center." That was my standard super basic job description.

"Like a lab tech?" she said, disbelievingly.

"No. I work for their I/T staff. I analyze and design software for their hospitals and professional practitioners." I rattled off my standard second-level description. It was descriptive without being full of jargon.

"So, a programmer."

"No, I tell the people who tell the programmers what to program how the program should work, after the hospital administrators tell me what they want the program to do."

"So you're, like, the Head Nerd."

"Yes, that's my exact job title." I pulled one of my business cards out of my wallet and handed it to her. "See, right there." I pointed to 'Systems Design Architect'. "Head Nerd," I declared proudly.

"Smart ass," she said, taking the card and slipping it into a small pocket in her skirt.

At this point Moira popped out of the bathroom, and Shelly leaped for the door. "ThanksfordistractingmefuckIgottapee!" The slam of the door severed the sound of her voice. Moira giggled. It was a heavenly sound.

"So how do you know about coffee, Moira? I was in college once. I sure as hell wasn't buying Jamaican coffee back then."

"Mi papi is from Colombia. He always complains that most coffee in the U.S. is 'blended mierda', but some he likes. Kona, and the Jamaican mostly.

"Well, your papi has excellent taste, and he raised a very impressive and surprising daughter." She blushed, smiled at me and batted her eyes. My heart almost stopped. Now I knew the source of her latte-colored complexion, but where the fuck did she get those eyes? I had my suspicions.

"Can I ask you where your mother is from?"

"She was born in India, but she moved to Peru when she was five." Jackpot! I was right. I took a moment to really examine her face. Those liquid almond eyes were so engaging and vibrant. She looked like she wanted to break into a dance at any second. She had thick, full lips and a delicate chin and nose. She looked at me questioningly, but she knew from my face how much I enjoyed what I was seeing. As soon as she noticed, the confidence I'd seen in her on the dance floor asserted itself. "You look like you're trying to memorize my face," she said, with an impish smile.

'Damn mind-reading woman!' I thought to myself. "Well, I'm enjoying this night so much, I want to make sure I remember as much detail as possible." Somehow that sounded smoother in my head. It seemed sad, almost fatalistic, after I said it.

Shelly popped out of the bathroom right then. Moira looked at her friend and said, "I don't think you'll have to memorize my face after one night."

Shelly grabbed Moira's hand and lead her out of the bedroom. "I want to see the rest now." She took a big swig from her wine glass to punctuate her statement, and strode confidently from the room. Moira look over her shoulder at me, rolling her eyes. She downed her glass, wrapped an arm around Shelly's arm, and then started laughing and swaying slightly drunkenly.

I wanted a three bedroom condo when I bought this place because I didn't want my guest room and my office to be the same room. I worked from home sometimes, and some of those home work days were video conferences. I needed some place that was work and work only, a room that couldn't be co-opted by guests, not that I ever really had any; however, that didn't alleviate all of my home office problems. I would still have a camera in a room of my house, and I had almost no control over who saw what that camera saw, at times. Then I had what I like to think of as a little stroke of genius. I painted one wall of my office white, and I painted a small corporate logo on the wall about five feet high. Then I placed my desk so that I sat between it and the wall. Instant backdrop, and no way for anyone ever to see anything but that white wall.

The other three walls, though, were a satiny, dark blue. A blue and ivory Persian-style rug covered two-thirds of the floor not used by my "office." Thick cushions and pillows were spread everywhere, in a variety of sizes and shapes. Mostly in the blue and ivory color pallet, but a few were flame orange or candy apple red. "This," I said, as we walked into the room, "is my office. It's boring. If you'll follow me, we will head to the smoking lounge."

"This place is awesome!" Shelly squeaked, sprawling across some pillows. "Wait, smoking lounge?" She got a wicked look on her face. "Smoking what?"

"Well, I have a variety of cigars."

"Nice, but boring. Keep going."

"There's this." I went to one of the cabinets on the wall and opened it. Inside was a cobalt blue glass and brass hooka with ivory trim, along with half a dozen boxes of shisha. It was almost three feet tall, with four wooden beaded hoses, each with ornately engraved brass mouth pieces. Moira eyed it like a lamp or a piece of jewelry -- appreciative, but dispassionate. Shelly's eyes bulged.

"Holy shit! That's fucking wicked!"

"I helped an Indian friend pack to move once. He didn't think the hooka would survive the trip, and his wife had been bugging him to get rid of it. So he gave it to me to say, 'Thanks.'"

"Wow. That is super cool," Shelly commented.

"It's beautiful," Moira pipped in. I had a sudden mental image of her naked and sitting on the floor, the hooka in her lap, beckoning me. I took a swallow from my glass to cover the gulp I knew was coming.

"So where's your bedroom?" Shelly asked. I saw the teasing look on her face, but there was more to it than that. She definitely wanted to know the answer to that question.

"Right this way." I hoisted Shelly off the floor, and she stood, wobbling slightly.

"How about a refill?" she asked. My glass was empty, too.

"You're in luck! The kitchen is on the way." I lead them across the condo, stopping at the kitchen to refill glasses. The next round would be a new bottle. I was hoping there was a next round. The way Shelly quickly swallowed half of hers made me think there would be.

"Welcome to my French mountain chalet," I said as we entered the bedroom. Wide, vertical stripes in alternating dark and light red covered all four walls. A masculine, queen-size brass bed, made to look like mountains and trees, with red Egyptian cotton sheets and a white faux fur blanket sat against the far wall. A brown faux fur rug sat under the bed. Arch-legged brass tables topped with frosted glass held touch lamps in the same brass and glass style. Another LED TV hung opposite the bed, capped by a brass Fluer de Lys affixed to the wall. Thick, champagne-colored drapes were drawn over the large window.

"Neat!" was Shelly's reaction as she roamed the room, examining the little details.

Moira just sat down on the bed, looked around, and rubbed her hand across the blanket. She closed her eyes and smiled, lost in the texture of it. I knew how she felt. That's why I bought it.

Eventually, Shelly noticed what Moira was doing, and sat down to do the same, much to the same result, except that she began to rub herself all over the blanket, writhing rapturously. "Sooooo soft," she moaned. I chuckled at their reactions, and then almost swallowed my tongue when Shelly whipped up her shirt and began rubbing her nipples on the white faux fur, humping my bed and flashing me her white lacy thong. Moira shook her head before reaching over to smack Shelly on the thigh, disappointingly quickly as far as I was concerned. Shelly sat up on the bed, and unconcernedly slowly lowered her shirt. I noticed how flushed her face was when I saw the crimson border extended halfway down her chest. She downed the rest of her wine and looked at me, waving the glass. "This is really good stuff. One more round?"