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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