Friday, 30 March 2018

THE SEXCAPADE OF NATASHA - 1



SEXCAPADE OF NATASHA ~ EmdeeDavid

Her dressing is in-between formal and casual, informed by the day’s double mission.  A fitted pink silk armless top is covered by a black designer suit meant for her business meeting in the early hours of the evening. 


She would be meeting with four directors of a computer company to finalize a contract to supply their products to a new generation bank. The suit was to give her the appearance of a professional business executive that she really is. And after the meeting, one of the directors is to take her for a dinner.  The pink inner blouse would serve that purpose. It’s one of her favourite, not only because of the colour but the silk material gives her a sensational feeling when, like this day, she wears it without a bra. The pink top usually rubs on her nipples when it stands, and from the outside, the message is sent to the right person standing or sitting in front of her.

When she’s done with her make up, she stands before the large standing mirror, her best friend which had never lied about her well-endowed features.
“Who is this?” she unconsciously speaks audibly, winking to the person in the mirror. And with the ears of her mind, she hears the name as the red lips in the mirror move slowly and accordingly: Natasha Peters. She loves who or what she is seeing. She smiles to elegant Natasha in the mirror and Natasha smiles back to her in no time difference. She then turns her side to the mirror, admiring the shape made too obvious by the fitted dress she has chosen for the ocassion – a business meeting and a dinner.
The dinner is what she looked forward to more anxiously, because after the dinner, she knows she is not coming back home. At least that is the impression she had gotten from the director when they fixed the date. And she would ensure that happens. Her friends had encouraged her to push for it. Her body system would never accede to a lonely, touch-less, man-less or sexless night. And thank God it’s Friday, and in this city, that’s the order of the day. Abuja is Las Vegas on Fridays.

Natasha turns back to the mirror for a final look at the sexy beauty queen reflecting before her. She unbuttons the suit to rehearse the transitional act between the meeting and the dinner, symbolized by the pulling off of the suit. The smooth skin of her arms is as electrifying as the beginning of the swelling on her breasts, where the pink top attempts but fail to cover. Her eyes traces down the hands in the mirror which slightly grabs what she had termed her “twins,” in admiration. Even she, herself, is surprised at what she feels by this as her fingers rests on the nipples which are already protruding, but suppressed by the tight pink top. She seems to have a particular sexual hormone in excess. All the directors would see this transitional action and salivate – but only one of them would feel it, at least, tonight.

Now she wants time to fly, and wishes the meeting would be rushed. She buttons up quickly, picks up a pink leather handbag and her car key. Then, looking at the mirror again, she blew Natasha Peters a goodbye kiss before heading to the door.
READ Episode 2 next Friday.
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