|Gonna Make You Notice
by J2 ©
Jane and I had been working together for about six months. She was transferred from the Chicago office for a project that was dragging on interminably. She is very effective in her work, approaching everything she does with great initiative and a professional attitude. Her credentials are exceptional - top undergraduate and graduate education, top tier firms on her resume. Really, you could only say positive things about her with regard to work. We worked long hours side by side for the client expected a lot from us and, well, our firm bills by the hour.
Yet, despite the time we spent together at work, I never thought of Jane in any way other than a colleague or a tool, as bad as that sounds, to approach the problems of our client. If you had asked me about her looks, I would say she looked neat, clean, well groomed. 5'7", light brown hair, not even sure of her eye color. Maybe 31 years old. Slim. Athletic. Wore those mod, small frame glasses that women were now. Didn't give her presentation much thought beyond that.
I guess, when I put on the suit in the morning, I enter a different mode. My personal feelings and life are pushed aside and I look at everything with an almost clinical detachment. I guess, given the stress of my professional life, this is a way for me to cope and partition the various aspects of my life so that I can stay focused.
All this has changed, though.
About two weeks ago, Jane and I flew out to Houston to visit the factory of a company our client was negotiating to purchase. As usual, during the flight, we talked mostly about work or typed away at our laptops or checked our organizers. Sure, we would talk about light topics, the weather, etc., but, never about personal life. No wedding band on either of our fingers, perhaps that kept us from probing. Who knows? However, on this flight, something changed. There was something different about Jane. She got up to go to the bathroom and when she returned, I noticed she had taken her hair down and her eyes were a bit red. For the first time, I actually thought I saw her, well, slightly ruffled, or upset. I pretended not to notice her and buried my head in my laptop computer. Read notes. Jane was not working, though. She was not doing anything, except staring straight ahead. Of course, this would be normal behavior for the typical person, but not for Jane. She was always doing something.
Her changed behavior threw me for a loop. I let my eyes wander, while pretending to work at my computer. What was different about her? I looked at her hands set flat against her note pad on the tray back table. Her fingers were, I guess, well proportioned. Elegant? Did she paint her nails recently? Long, blood red nail polish. Wait, that was new, right? How much did I notice about her? I looked down her legs, as they emerged from the hem of her business suit skirt. Long, slim legs. Her hose...Why did I notice her hose? Shiny, with a seam in the back. And her heels, black, tall, and shiny. The toes of the shoes seemed a bit more pointed than before. Were all of these things new? Something compelled me to notice today. Still, I did not move my head up and Jane remained quiet.
I cleared my throat and asked Jane to look at some spreadsheet calculation I had done. That seemed to snap her out of whatever state she was in. From there we just talked about work or read professional journals.
As we drove to the plant in the rental car, I decided to put on the radio. We had a fairly long trip ahead of us. A classic rock station came on. The familiar strain of a Pretenders song , "..gonna use my, my, my imagination. Oh I, gonna make you see your special..."
I looked over at Jane to see if this station were okay with her and found her staring right at me. Her eyes fixed on me. I mean eyes wide open. Lips parted. Shit, I turned away. I didn't know what to say. It was an expression that I could not answer. Did I feel flustered?
"...gonna use my fingers..."
I looked at her briefly, again. Her eyes were still on me....
"gonna use my sassy..."
Could I turn the station? Wouldn't turning it off make as much of a statement as keeping it on?
We went under an overpass, and the reception on the radio went out. We lost the signal after that. Could only pick up country music stations after that.
I didn't speak for a while and neither did Jane. Eventually, I made some comment about the long hours we had been logging for this client. That seemed to break the tension. The plant road was just ahead.
As we left the car, I almost thought I heard Jane sigh.
The day at the plant was uneventful. We just reviewed the operations and Jane was her usual, very insightful self. I think she intimidated the plant managers. She was just so in command of her facts. Again, I looked at her as I usually had and seemed to forget the incident in the car.
We got back in the car and before I had even the left the parking lot, Jane suggested we stop for a drink on our way to the hotel in Houston.
"There is a nice restaurant not far from here. A friend who lives here recommended it."
"Sure," I said. I could use a drink."
We entered the bar of the restaurant, which was starting to fill up with the Friday night crowd. An awkward silence ensued between us as we waited for our drinks.
When my bourbon arrived, I quickly swallowed half of it. We looked at each other. Jane smiled at me and put her hand on mine.
I looked down at her hand.
"Jane, I'm sorry. I know, I am, umm, acting a little uptight. It's just that, back in the car..."
"We don't have to talk about it, now. Okay?"
Now, I sighed inwardly. The alcohol calmed my nerves, albeit temporarily. The conversation took a more personal turn. Jane talked about her family a little bit. Her friends. That wall between us, or that wall I thought existed, seemed to come down.
The conversation and drinks continued. Jane excused herself to go to the bathroom. There was a woman standing off to my right and I couldn't help noticing her. She was dressed in such a way. A black silk skirt, and long, slim black leather skirt. Below the skirt, I could see black leather high-heeled boots descend to the floor. I surreptitiously glanced at her.
"It's not nice to stare."
s--- Jane had caught me as she returned from the bathroom.
"Oh, I'm just tired....nah..I wasn't staring.."
Jane laughed ...
"Sure you weren't...Sure..."
"No, really, honest."
We both laughed this time.
"Okay, maybe I did."
Jane leaned in a bit and moved her stool close to mine.
"I didn't think she would be your type."
I choked on my drink a bit, swallowing hard.
"Oh, she's not my type..."
"Oh, really? You seemed to notice her."
"Well, yeah, I mean, how could I not notice her?" Shit, did I want to say that? "Hey, besides, how do you know what my type is?"
"Oh, I just had you pegged for a more conservative, preppy type...you know...."
"Oh, like you Jane?" Who was in control of my brain? Geez, I shouldn't have said that.
Jane laughed hard at that and I joined her.
"Okay, so that is what you think about me? Hmm?" Jane gave me a challenging, playful look.
"Well, you know, with little information, you make guesses about people."
"True, but I might surprise you. You should notice things." This time her expression was a bit more serious.
I looked carefully at her again. Her lips seemed different. Had she put on some dark lipstick while in the bathroom?
Jane turned around and seemed to say something to a woman that was sitting next to her. The woman dug in her bag and handed something to Jane. When Jane turned around she had a long white cigarette held between her blood red nails.
"Got a light?" She smiled mischievously at me.
"I didn't know you smoked?"
"You should notice things." she said..
The bartender reached over and lit her cigarette. She looked at me and blew the smoke over my head. Her eyes on mine. She mesmerized me. That way she was looking at me. The seductive, smoldering way of her. She knew it, too.
Jane looked over at the woman in leather I had noticed earlier.
"I like her outfit too. I have one just like it." She let the smoke pour out of her dark red lips in creamy wisps.
"Oh, um, really."
Jane looked at me.
I didn't say anything. Jane leaned in closer.
"Maybe, I might just wear it for you."
I leaned closer to her, catching hint of her subtle scent. Was that lilac?
"I'd like that."
Our lips so close.
"I know you would." Lips touching now.
The smoke from her cigarette curling around us, as we got lost in a foggy trip. I felt such a hunger in me and a simultaneous release of tension as her warm, lipsticked lips moved against my lips.
"Jane," I said. "Let's get out of here."
We headed to the car, hands spontaneously entwined as we walked. At the hotel, as we checked in, we had messages from our offices waiting for us. Apparently there was a problem with the presentation our client's investment bank had put together. Jane was needed in New York for a meeting with the bank tomorrow morning.
We both looked at each other knowing the resentment we were feeling towards our employer at that moment. Jane, though, took it in stride. I went to the cab with her. We paused before she entered.
"Well, get some sleep on the plane," I said.
She leaned in to me, our lips met and melted. My tongued danced with hers, as if we were whispering secrets without speaking.
"See you soon. You return Sunday, right?" she said.
"Yep." I held her close.
She got into the cab. The window rolled down.
"Notice," she said.
"What?" I looked confused.
"Notice ...remember to notice." Her voiced trailed off as the cab pulled away.
The next day was uneventful, which was just as well, for my mind was elsewhere. Jane filled my thoughts. She was a different person to me. She was a woman. My neat world and the assumptions I worked under, though, were crumbling. How could I fail to see that and see her?
I exited from the plane and began the long walk, slightly tired, to the taxi pickup area of the airport. It was late on Sunday and the terminal was relatively empty. I looked up ahead, to the area beyond security. Usually, a driver sent by the company would be standing there with my name on a card. No sign around now. I looked off to the left. Standing alone, near the doors, I saw her. I nearly dropped my bags.
Jane leaned against a phone booth. Black leather encased arms folded, staring at me. She was wearing a black leather trench coat. Black leather boots with very tall, slender heels, and severe, pointed toes peaked out under the coat. Black, tight, polished leather gloves encased her slim fingers. Her eyes were on mine.
She grinned wickedly, licked her very crimson lipsticked lips and walked towards me. Click, click, click. Her stiletto heels on the hard floors of the terminal. She walked slowly, deliberately.
She was so close now.
"Yes, I notice a lot," I said. My dark eyes fixed on her.
"Mmm, I thought you might," she said.
She reached up and ran a leather-gloved finger gently against the outline of my jaw.
I let my eyes drink in the sight of her. The soft leather of her glove caressing my face made me turn into the glove, kissing it with my lips. I held her gloved hand in place against my face with my own hand. We paused like this for just a few moments.
Soon, our lips were together, continuing the dance of tongues we had begun in Houston. I grabbed Jane's gloved hand and we walked to the parking area. I was glad that I had on my trench coat, for my erection was painfully obvious. Were it not for Jane's towering heels, we would have sprinted to the car.
Once seated in the black leather interior of Jane's sports car, we moved to each other. Lips on one another's necks, eyelids, ears. We could not get enough of her. Her scent of lilac and leather drove me wild. Jane's hand moved down my arm, along my thigh and then paused over my groin, where she gently massaged me through my suit pants.
"Mmm, we could get lost here. I want to get you home, now," said Jane.
Her voice thick with lust, and stifled excitement.
"Could you hand me my bag?"
I reached behind the seat and gave Jane her bag. She quickly reached in and extracted a long white cigarette.
"You don't mind, do you?"
I grinned at her. "Not at all."
"I didn't think so. You know, I only smoke when I feel, umm, well, you know?"
I reached for her lighter and lit the tip of the cigarette as she held the white cylinder in her tight black leather fingers.
"Yes, I know."
Jane exhaled a slow, sensual stream of smoke then turned the wheel.
We soon arrived at her place. Leaving my bags in the car, we walked to her door. Once inside we were quickly upon one another. I moved her up against the wall, pulling open her leather trench coat. Her silk scarf fell to the floor. I gasped. She had on a soft, tight leather dress, sleeveless with an attached leather collar. The dress was cut narrowly, accentuating the feminine curve of her hips and going down just below her knees. Her arms were covered to mid arm with elegant Napa leather gloves. The smell of her leather was strong. My pulse raced.
"Oh Jane, my sweat Jane," I said as I kissed her.
We both laughed after I said it.
"Mmm, I like the Velvet Underground, too," said Jane.
Again I laughed as my hands caressed her sides through her leather.
I held her about the waist as we walked together to her bedroom. The height of her boot heels exaggerating her hip swing as she walked. I sat on the bed, Jane beside me. She had the biggest smile on her face.
"Lean back," she said.
I rested on my elbows as Jane reached over, her eyes only on mine, smiling her lovely smile. Her hands slowly undid my belt. She tugged down my pants, then my boxer shorts, freeing my aching erection. She licked her lips while her gloved hand so very gently touched the head of my cock. Her leather index finger slowly circled the tip and then moved down the shaft. Cupping my balls, she turned her head from mine and lowered her lips onto me. I watched as the white of my shaft entered her crimson lips.
"Jane, dear Jane."
Her hands roamed over my balls, along my thighs and back up as she took me lovingly and deeply into her lipsticked mouth.
Jane continued to take me deep in her mouth. I could only marvel at her loveliness. The way the candlelight in the bedroom reflected in her hair and the polished leather of her dress and gloves. Oh the leather, the soft leather of her fingers handled me with love. Her gloved finger cupped my balls, cradling them as she kissed the head of my cock. The pre-cum glistened on her crimson lips. I slowly thrusted my hips to meet her lips. Deeper and deeper. Licking the tip of the head and then lips down to the base of my shaft. Her black leathered fingers explored me, moving below my balls and slowly, daringly resting in that space between my asshole and the base of my cock. Her finger circled my ass then, without warning, she plunged in. I grunted, but was overwhelmed with the new sensations her finger created. I met her finger, thrusting back. She looked up at me. Our eyes met. I nodded slowly. She moaned now, my c--- stifling her lustful sounds. f---ing me with her leather finger and sucking me. Oh my Jane, yes. I was ready to explode when she suddenly stopped. She got up and unzipped her black leather dress, letting it fall to the floor around her leather booted legs. She gingerly stepped out of the dress, her stiletto heels forcing her delicate steps. She wore only a leather corset underneath, forcing her firm breasts up high. Her nipples were visibly erect. Her eyes fixed mine and she walked over to her nightstand. She reached in and then walked back to me, handing me a small leather item. It was a black leather tube, or sheath of sorts. She reached over to rub her sex and then grabbed my cock, rubbing her slickness over my cock. Oh, how I wanted to explode. Then, she grabbed the leather sheath and slowly forced it over my shaft. So tight it was against my c--- that the head and veins were outlined clearly on the shiny, soft leather. Taught in the candlelight. She leaned close and whispered to me, "f--- me with your leather, f--- my ass with your leather cock." On the bed she positioned herself, her hair now spread across her pillows, another pillow under her groin, lifting her round ass higher. Her thigh high booted legs spread across the bed. "Now, now," she said.
in, first reaching under to wet my fist with her sopping wet pussy. Oh,
how wet she was. How the smell of her sex and leather filled the air.
I rubbed her juices over the shiny, taught leather on my c--- then gingerly
placed the head against her asshole. Slowly, ever so slowly she yielded
and accepted my inches within her. The black leather making a contrast
with the milky white of her rear.
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