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Just another Friday night….

BOFH666

2nd Level Red Feather
Joined
Dec 14, 2002
Messages
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A loud thumping noise penetrated the blissful darkness of my world, as Rob hammered on the door of my shoebox-sized room. “You alive in there?” he yelled as I tried to focus on the alarm clock over on the desk. “If you’re not, get better quick, we’ve got a deadline to make!” As the numbers finally swam lazily into view about a gallon of adrenaline shot through my body as I realised there was a grand total of fifteen minutes to go to hand this month’s coursework.

One minute and thirty seven seconds later I was up, dressed and, with a copy of my project grasped firmly in hand, was sprinting down through the campus. There’s a certain skill to recognising students on their way to a deadline, and it has something to do with their willingness to take slightly riskier routes than normal. Anyone possessing this skill would have had no problems identifying us as we took a somewhat more direct route than normal by half running and half sliding down a near vertical earth bank, running across the road at the bottom and jumping down a six foot drop rather than go down the winding stairs.

With about a minute to spare we dashed into the computer science building, hurtled up three flights of stairs, took a quick shortcut through a couple of labs and, with a full-on superman dive dropped the paperwork into the box with about thirty seconds left, rolling quickly out of the way as the next lot of students arrived and repeated the manoeuvre. I don’t know what it is about computer students that makes us push deadlines to the absolute limit, but whatever it is must be contagious as we were helped back to our feet and found ourselves surrounded by damn near half the year.

Panting slightly, okay, a lot, we staggered down to the communal area and slumped into a couple of spare seats, pausing only to grab a couple of cans of Pepsi from one of the vending machines. As we sat there my eyes drifted down to a badly drawn flyer left on the table in front of us by a previous occupier.

“Hey Rob, is tonight the school disco theme thing up at the union?” I asked, in a tone of voice that Rob recognised all too easily as leading up to some bad news.

“Yeah, I think so, why?”

“Well, according to this there’s been a tiny change in plan.” I said holding up the slightly damp sheet of paper for him to read. “Seems they’ve changed it to a James Bond theme night.”

“How the heck did we miss that one?”

“Must have something to do with not seeing daylight for the last week or so.”

“Hmm, good point. Well, as this starts in about six hours, and as we’ve both got to be there or our respective partners will be sharpening the disembowelling cutlasses, what do you think clothes-wise?” Rob asked.

“Okay, point one, it’s only you that’s meeting a partner there…”

“Alright, alright, fine. My partner and your proto-partner, better?”

“Still not accurate, but I guess it’ll do. It’s not like we’ve been out before or anything, we’re just meeting up there so we won’t be doing the whole dateless wonder thing.”

“Ah-ha, and my dog can sing Bohemian Rhapsody including the opera section while tap-dancing the fandango, but if you want to bathe in a certain Egyptian river…”

“Huh?”

“De-Nile.”

“Oh.”

“…then be my guest. But back to the point, any bright ideas for how we’re going to sort out costume at this late date, I mean every damn store in town is going to be out of tuxedos by now.”

“As I was about to say, don’t worry, I have a cunning plan.”

“Why am I not re-assured?”

“Because you haven’t heard it yet, come on, when have I ever let you down before?”

“Umm…”

“It was a rhetorical question.”

“Ah, carry on then.”

“Thank you. Now where was I? Oh yes, it won’t be a problem, the manager of a certain tailors owes me a favour, time to cash it in.”

“Favour, what for?”

”The short version: Not turning his son over to the cops when I caught him trying to steal a case of vodka from the warehouse last year.”

“Serious?”

”Yep, cheeky sod walked right in through the loading dock, grabbed the box and went to walk off. Just a shame he forgot to look up really, or he’d have spotted me on the ladder and would have just gotten out of there.”

“So why did you let him off the hook?”

“Hmm? Oh, he ain’t a bad kid really, just got put up to it by a group of older kids or they’d beat the heck out of him. So, had a quiet word with his dad and sorted things out. He said if I ever needed anything, just let him know, so I figure this is as good a time as any to cash in.”

“No arguments there, but we’d better shift if we’re going to give him any chance of doing this.”

“Right, come on, I’m driving.”

And so it was we ended up arriving back at the campus barely half an hour before the doors opened for the event, each with a freshly tailored tux under our arms. Just enough time to grab a quick bite to eat, dive through the shower, change into the unfamiliar clothing, a last check in front of the mirror and out the door.

The ironic thing about this last-minute plan is that, unlike virtually every other guy there (hey, what else does a man wear to a Bond night but a tux?) we were wearing fully tailored outfits, albeit ones that had started as stock items. The difference was surprising and I made a mental note to see how much a made-to-measure suit would cost for interview use after the degree was over. Much to my shock more than one admiring glance was thrown in my direction, not exactly a normal state of affairs.

Inside the Student Union building it was like stepping into a whole other world. The décor had been left more or less as normal for a big event, which pretty much meant black drapes over the walls and that was about it. Whoever had set this thing up though had paid a lot of attention to lighting, and the result was the perfect blend of low light to flatter virtually anyone while being bright enough not to cause eyestrain after a few minutes. A live band was playing through a set that seemed to be a mix of Bond theme songs and more general stuff from the movies. At least the last time I looked “I Disappear” was a Mission Impossible 2 song, not a Bond theme. Oh well, I guess it was close enough.

What really stopped the heart though were the incredible costumes. All the guys were in black tuxes, and as far as I’m a judge of such things, looked pretty damn good in them. The women though, god they left us for dead in the jaw dropping department. Apparently the general consensus had been that suitable wear for a Bond evening on the female side was either evening gowns or bikinis, and as this was Wales in November, they’d all sensibly said no to frostbite and gone the evening gown route. Everywhere you looked there was beauty, people I had known for years in some cases I suddenly saw in a whole new light. Shimmering dresses falling almost to the floor, shorter, simpler creations, backless, strapless, you name it, it was on display.

“Dude, stop drooling.” Rob muttered.

“Pot, kettle, black.” I replied. “Besides, you’ve got less time to mop up, isn’t that April over there?”

He turned to follow my finger and I swear I heard his brain switch off. Admittedly, he had every right to as April was wearing a dark green dress cut low to highlight her, umm, best assets so to speak. Figuring decisions would be a hard thing for Rob to come to right then I gave him a swift shove on the small of the back in her general direction and smiled as the two came together, clearly lost in each other’s presence. Always nice to see a match you set up work out. Turning I scanned the crowd, content for now to simply enjoy the view. In one of those moments that make you wonder if we really are living in a movie the crowd seemed to split apart and I was lost.

God, she was beautiful. That was my first thought, and pretty much my last for a while; certainly any coherent conversation was going to be a problem. I’d known Amy for almost three years now, but she’d never had this effect on me before. A black dress that almost kissed the floor, the right side slit from hem to neck with only two thin strips left in place to hold it closed at waist and chest height. The front was cut close, hugging curves normally hidden under baggy t-shirts and jeans, the neck pulling up into a choker, circling tightly around her throat. As she moved the dress caught the light and an otherwise invisible silver material would twinkle like captured starlight. Her normally brown hair was dyed a deep red and pulled up into a style that had to have taken hours to accomplish.

Wordlessly she walked over to me, clearly enjoying my stunned stare as she did so. She finished her journey at my right side, and then performed a slow 180 spin to show off her back. And it was her back; the dress simply wasn’t there, exposing everything from the lip of the choker down to a point barely above her waist before flowing in to highlight those fabulous legs. She slipped an arm through mine and started guiding me towards the dance floor that was already packed with students who were suddenly seeing each other in a whole new light.

”So what do you think?” She whispered, and I could hear the smile in her voice, enjoying the attention.

“I, umm, honestly, I’m at a loss for words lass.”

“Now there’s a first. Not even a simple compliment?” Again, the grin was clear in her tone.

”Well, I was thinking that I’m not exactly qualified to be a secret agent.”

“Meaning?”

“I couldn’t even see what was right in front of me for three years, what chance have I got on anything else?”

“Ohh, that almost sounds like more than casual interest, Mr Bond.”

“Let’s say I’m never afraid to correct past mistakes.” Her mood was infectious, and I found myself slipping into her game, doing my best to behave like a gentleman spy.

“Ah, but how many mistakes have you made that you’ll have to correct?”

“Thousands, but there’s only one that I regret.” We made it onto the dance floor about halfway through a slow number, I had no idea what it actually was but right then it didn’t matter as we glided out in each other’s arms into the sea of humanity.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”

“Turnabouts fair play.”

“Want to know if it’s working?” Such an innocent question, but with a weight behind it that made me pause before replying.

“Yes, but not now.”

“Later you may not get the chance to ask.”

”Then give me one song before you answer. After all, it’s not every day I get a chance to dance with an angel.”

“Only on the outside.” So saying she reached under my jacket and ran a hand up to my ribs, gently poking and prodding, teasing me through the shirt. Holding on to my self-control with some difficulty, cursing the fact she was so skilled at such a seemingly harmless art, I concentrated on the beat until I trusted myself to speak again.

“So I see, though I’d have thought you more capable than this.” Challenge, plain and simple.

“Alright Mr Bond, a deal. You have your song, seduce me and I’ll show you what I can really do when the gloves come off. One chance, one opportunity, what do you say?”

“I’ve never been one to back away from a challenge. You have a deal.”

We finished the song together, then came together to wait for the start of the next one, my mind racing as I tried to work out how best to go about the task before me. The song started, and to my surprise I recognised it as Metallica’s Nothing Else Matters. An odd choice but I had to admit it did fit the mood and the occasion quite nicely. As I gathered her in my arms and let the music wash over us I felt her bare skin under my fingers and inspiration struck.

Pulling her in close I leant forward and almost rested my head on her shoulder, placing my lips by her mouth as I whispered the lyrics to her, thanking whoever it was that served as the god of musicians these days for the divine intervention. After a few lines I felt her relax fully into my arms for the first time, and I had to admit it felt good to have her body, her warmth against me, even if only for a few minutes. As we danced I slid my left hand round and down, caressing her bare flesh and slipping my fingers under the thin material of her dress.

Gently I started tickling her side, running my fingers in time with the beat up to her armpit, then down to her ribs, all the while keeping my touch light. She giggled as my wandering fingers travelled over her exposed side, her fingers moving up my back to the nape of my neck, returning my teasing touch with an easy confidence that surprised me. With a great effort I put the feelings she was causing aside for a moment and concentrated on my own actions, making sure to match the lyrics of the song.

As the music surged into the first lilting guitar break I shifted my right hand down her back, resting on the edge of her dress, fingers caressing her silky smooth skin, again targeting my tickling in time with the music, running fingers back and forth just above the curve of her ass. She leant her head down to my shoulder and turned her head towards me, planting her lips on my neck and muffling a brief burst of laughter against my skin. The feel of her lips on my skin sent a shockwave through my body, and I couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like elsewhere. That thought was derailed in the next moment as Amy pulled herself in even closer, moulding her body to mine as we swayed.

With her so close I was finding it difficult to bend my arm enough to reach her ribs, and as she shifted slightly my fingers caressed the side of her breast. I almost panicked, thinking she might be offended at what seemed a very presumptuous move but as I went to draw back she brought her right arm down, trapping my hand where it was and throwing me a glance that almost melted me on the spot. Never had I seen such passion, such desire, such longing from anyone before, and I’d never thought I would see it, at least not directed at me. Just then the second, up-tempo guitar riff kicked in and I reached a decision. If I was to blow this tonight, it wasn’t going to be for being too timid.

Slipping my hand as far under her dress as I could I ran my fingers around her full breast, caressing the skin and keeping up the gentle, teasing tickles. Amy moaned, lips and teeth working at my neck, hands fluttering gently over my ears and jaw, her hips and legs pressed up tight against me. As the riff faded I slipped my hand out again, returning to the earlier touches on her side, my right hand coming back up her back to caress her as we wound down, knowing the last part was possibly the most important, not wanting to blow this now.

My hand slid up under her arm and caressed the warm hollow, fingers flicking lightly over her sensitive skin, pulling another sigh from the vision I held in my arms.

“So close, no matter how far”

My right hand moved up, cupping the back of her neck as she moved away from me slightly.

“Couldn’t be much more from the heart”

Her hands traced up my sides, goosing my ribs even through the jacket as she locked her hands behind my neck.

“Forever trust in who we are”

Her eyes seemed to call to me, pulling me down, claiming what had been rightfully hers all along, even if I was too stupid to know it. My right hand traced her shoulder and neck, cupping her face as I gazed long into those eyes.

“No, nothing else matters.”

Seemingly without either of us moving, we come together, the kiss seemingly trying to make up for the three years of lost time, a tender embrace that caused everything else in the room to dim. It lasted long enough that, when we finally surfaced we had an audience, and a good-natured round of applause followed. Not that either of us noticed as, silently, Amy guided me off the dance floor, through the throng of people and out of the building, stopping only when we reached my room.

A pounding echoed through the room as Rob thumped on the door. “Come on man, get your gear on, the sun is shining and the bikes are calling!”

I rolled over, skin still tingling from the night before, snuggling closer to Amy as she blearily opened one eye and glared at the door. She opened her mouth, either to ask me what the hell was going on, or tell Rob to go away. I placed a finger to her lips and shook my head, waiting. After a few seconds we heard Rob mutter to whoever else was with him that I must be out and several pairs of feet wandered off down the hall.

“So what do you think?” I murmured, “Did my attempts at seduction work?”

Amy grinned, reached up and gave me a quick kiss, then wrapped herself around me, laid her head on my shoulder and drifted back to sleep, her words drifting on the air as I lay there, floating on an ocean of bliss. Amazing what three simple words can do to the human mind, and as I feel sleep washing over me as well I can’t help but mirror her sentiment.

“I love you.”
 
I think I can say that this would be the dream experience for every since male in this forum that could still be called realistic. You rock.
 
I could have sworn I replied to this. Sorry guys, and thank you, its not often I let the ol romantic side out to play when writing, maybe I should do it a little more often. Oh, and as I simply can't pass up a chance to quote one of my favourite movie series of all time, Tommy mate, you're worthy, your worthy, get up!
 
how could I have missed this story?

Being tickle-seduced to Metalllica... a man after my own heart! Well done, man.

Morning Angel:angel:
 
I loved this! it's the stuff dreams are made of. another wonderful story.
 
Just another Friday night, my arse!

Yet another magical effort, my man. Good stuff!
 
What a wonderful story. I loved the element of
romance and wit that you linked to this story.
The details were also great and liked the James
Bond theme you added for the awesome party.
Wow do you have a gift for describing stuff,
describing what the characters wear, I mean I
totally could picture that sleek long shimmering
black velvet dress wiht shiny silver gown underneath.
I could picture crystal chandliers hanging up on the
ceiling, a gorgeous staircase and marble floors.
That really was terrific.

Don't get me started on the conversation:)
The friendly banter and conversation totally rocked!
I mean it was suggestive but yet flirty and witty
all at the same time. It was definitely refreshing
and a delight to read. A classic masterpiece once
again my friend. (Just curious: wondering how did
you come up w your TMF screen name?)I mean does it
mean something lol to ya just wondering.

But I must say my favorite part was the whole slow
anticipation/teasing tickle scene where Amy and him
were slow dancing. He totally goes out of his way to
fluster her really bad. He succeeds, I mean really
the details in this scene, really illustrates a clear
picture. Let me tell ya...I have been flustered like
that-I mean no my guy did not tickle me so to speak;
but lets say-he did fluster me alot.

This story brings back that memory like yesterday.
June 29th the first wedding we ever went to and
my guy had been on a personal mission to fluster me
like mad. As the day and night proceeded my guy
(who at the time was just my best friend) he flustered
me totally. We had been slow dancing, he softly trailed
up and down my back w simple touches, held me close as
we swayed to the music, whispered he loved me, and like
totally swept me off my feet. Lets say I was taken back
and surprised when he did this: 2 weeks later he asked me
to be his girlfriend. I could not resist. He asked me by
the lake underneath the sparkling stars. My heart just melted.

I can't wait til this weekend my honey and I are
going to my uncle's wedding...we are going to dance
the night away. Be awesome to slow dance again and
be held close. Hope he and I will have fun.

:D :) :D ;) :)

Must say the total serenading to Amy was a excellent
romantic idea to incorporate into the story. For the
record it really does work: totally flusters the lady.

hope to talk again soon, missing ya. Oh by the
way My Immortal is another story I read today
and it was superb:)

ticklebunny :bunny:
 
Angel, Ayla and Dan: Thanks all, my apologies for not replying when you posted but it gets ever harder to come up with creative ways of saying thank you without sounding like you're buying into your own publicity if you know what I mean.

Ticklebunny - *Grin* Other stories I've done probably have more 'deep-down' aspects of my personality in them, but if you want to know how I behave, react, think and talk in real life, this is pretty much bang on. Normally I try and move whatever I'm writing away from such a dead-on version, but this just seemed to work better if I 'kept it real' so to speak. Unfortunately the situation's yet again part of my own little world, but I think it works. Though I'd question the 'witty' part, I'd go with "annoying" but frankly while I've been told I'm a pretty good judge of character all that goes the window when I try to judge myself. I like your version better anyway so I'll go with that :D

The screen name, well, as you asked... It stands for (my apologies but I've gotta use this word just this once) B*stard Operator From Hell and isn't a reference to my dating technique (Voice from afar: "What Dating Technique?"). 'Tis a term from the IT Support world and is a term applied to anyone who tends to solve IT problems with a quick and very permanent solution that leaves whichever user caused the problem a broken shell of a human being who, and this is the important part, will never cause that or any other problem ever again. There's a whole series of tales of the BOFH on the web and, if you work in or know anything about IT at least, are well worth checking out. Variations include BMFH (Manager), BSAFH (System Administrator and PFY (Pimply Faced Youth, a kind of BOFH-larval stage).

Hmmm, a strange smoky kind of smell is wafting through the flat, methinks dinner's ready. Pardon me while I go call the fire department...

Steve.
 
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