BD8
Disclaimer: There is such a thing as too much, especially tequila.
Author's note: Never go out drinking, if it's your first time, with a Special Forces unit
I could hardly believe what I was about to do. Surely it was the height of madness to be doing a body shot with the person I had come out drinking to forget. Damn that Beck! Well, and to be fair about it, damn me too. I should never have accepted that dare. It was a problem I had had since childhood. I had done some colossally stupid things just because someone implied I would be chicken if I didn't. I guess some things don't change, no matter how much time passes. Here I was, a mature adult, being goaded into something very unwise. I could still taste him on my tongue. Just that one quick lick to anchor the salt, and I knew that I was in real trouble. He tasted incredible, and I had to restrain myself from lingering. Nottingham smelled wonderful too. Was there no justice? Now I would have both his scent and his taste to flesh out, so to speak, the fantasies.
Ok, enough stalling. I can do this. The longer I stand here, the worse it will be. Just get it over with. I salted the spot I had licked and wondered how I was going do this without giving myself away. The little pep talk was just talk, I was really afraid of showing that I wanted Nottingham. It would be certain death in the lab if anyone knew. They would question my fitness to be on the project, and rightly so. I held the thought of a review board in my mind, and looked up at Nottingham. Our eyes met, and I saw uncertainty in his. I kept forgetting that this was his first time out drinking. He had no idea what was about to happen.
Feeling a little guilty for leaving him in suspense, I explained, "Ok, Nottingham, I am going to lick the salt off of your neck, slam the shot, then lick the lime juice off…" I drifted off, as I realized I had not squeezed the lime yet. "…here." I squeezed the lime above where I had placed the salt. It was the least offensive place I could think to do it. "Got it?" I asked.
"I believe so. I just sit here and let you do all the work. It is not a particularly difficult assignment." Nottingham replied. He started to slide off his barstool, and then caught himself.
"Well, she forgot to tell you something. The Doc's gotta drink the shot from your mouth. When she licks the salt, put the shot in your mouth. Then give it to her." Rook added with a grin.
"If you manage a little tongue action while you're at it, you'll be my hero." Beck encouraged.
"Where did you learn to do body shots? Around here we don't do that!" I protested. The idea of Nottingham's tongue in my mouth had brought a flush to my cheeks that I hoped would pass as outrage, not desire.
"That's how Black Dragon's do body shots, Doc." Rook said, "I can demonstrate if you want."
"No thanks, one virgin Dragon is about my speed. You are way to fast for me." I replied. I looked back at Nottingham and tried to give him an out. "We don't have to do it that way."
"If that is how the Black Dragons do it, then that is how it must be done." Nottingham's speech was a little slurred, but his determination came through.
I wondered how much alcohol they had already poured down him. He seemed to be having trouble staying on the barstool too. Both were signs of advanced intoxication. Maybe he wouldn't remember in the morning… I leaned down and licked the salt.
Nottingham poured the shot in his mouth, only to find that holding it on his tongue was not the same as pouring it down his throat. His stomach must have gone into instant revolt, because I could see him turn green the moment he lowered the shot glass. With the instinct born from long years in the service, I dodged. Beck was not so quick. Nottingham bowled him over in his rush to get to the latrine.
Part of me was relieved; part of me was contrarily disappointed. "So guys, how many did he have?"
"One more than he should have, I would say." Mobius said with a slow smile. He alone had not been laughing at Nottingham's retreat.
"Ah, it's just a facet of his training that needs some work. We'll get him up to speed, never fear." Rook chuckled.
"I should go check on him. He probably thinks he's dying." Nicolli said as he pushed away from the bar.
"You may need a hand with our boy. I'll come with you." Taurins added, and followed Nicolli to the bathrooms.
Disclaimer: There is such a thing as too much, especially tequila.
Author's note: Never go out drinking, if it's your first time, with a Special Forces unit
I could hardly believe what I was about to do. Surely it was the height of madness to be doing a body shot with the person I had come out drinking to forget. Damn that Beck! Well, and to be fair about it, damn me too. I should never have accepted that dare. It was a problem I had had since childhood. I had done some colossally stupid things just because someone implied I would be chicken if I didn't. I guess some things don't change, no matter how much time passes. Here I was, a mature adult, being goaded into something very unwise. I could still taste him on my tongue. Just that one quick lick to anchor the salt, and I knew that I was in real trouble. He tasted incredible, and I had to restrain myself from lingering. Nottingham smelled wonderful too. Was there no justice? Now I would have both his scent and his taste to flesh out, so to speak, the fantasies.
Ok, enough stalling. I can do this. The longer I stand here, the worse it will be. Just get it over with. I salted the spot I had licked and wondered how I was going do this without giving myself away. The little pep talk was just talk, I was really afraid of showing that I wanted Nottingham. It would be certain death in the lab if anyone knew. They would question my fitness to be on the project, and rightly so. I held the thought of a review board in my mind, and looked up at Nottingham. Our eyes met, and I saw uncertainty in his. I kept forgetting that this was his first time out drinking. He had no idea what was about to happen.
Feeling a little guilty for leaving him in suspense, I explained, "Ok, Nottingham, I am going to lick the salt off of your neck, slam the shot, then lick the lime juice off…" I drifted off, as I realized I had not squeezed the lime yet. "…here." I squeezed the lime above where I had placed the salt. It was the least offensive place I could think to do it. "Got it?" I asked.
"I believe so. I just sit here and let you do all the work. It is not a particularly difficult assignment." Nottingham replied. He started to slide off his barstool, and then caught himself.
"Well, she forgot to tell you something. The Doc's gotta drink the shot from your mouth. When she licks the salt, put the shot in your mouth. Then give it to her." Rook added with a grin.
"If you manage a little tongue action while you're at it, you'll be my hero." Beck encouraged.
"Where did you learn to do body shots? Around here we don't do that!" I protested. The idea of Nottingham's tongue in my mouth had brought a flush to my cheeks that I hoped would pass as outrage, not desire.
"That's how Black Dragon's do body shots, Doc." Rook said, "I can demonstrate if you want."
"No thanks, one virgin Dragon is about my speed. You are way to fast for me." I replied. I looked back at Nottingham and tried to give him an out. "We don't have to do it that way."
"If that is how the Black Dragons do it, then that is how it must be done." Nottingham's speech was a little slurred, but his determination came through.
I wondered how much alcohol they had already poured down him. He seemed to be having trouble staying on the barstool too. Both were signs of advanced intoxication. Maybe he wouldn't remember in the morning… I leaned down and licked the salt.
Nottingham poured the shot in his mouth, only to find that holding it on his tongue was not the same as pouring it down his throat. His stomach must have gone into instant revolt, because I could see him turn green the moment he lowered the shot glass. With the instinct born from long years in the service, I dodged. Beck was not so quick. Nottingham bowled him over in his rush to get to the latrine.
Part of me was relieved; part of me was contrarily disappointed. "So guys, how many did he have?"
"One more than he should have, I would say." Mobius said with a slow smile. He alone had not been laughing at Nottingham's retreat.
"Ah, it's just a facet of his training that needs some work. We'll get him up to speed, never fear." Rook chuckled.
"I should go check on him. He probably thinks he's dying." Nicolli said as he pushed away from the bar.
"You may need a hand with our boy. I'll come with you." Taurins added, and followed Nicolli to the bathrooms.