Needing Natalie: The Prequel

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There may only be one thing worse than the traffic in L.A. – my reaction to it. I absolutely hate it! For five days each week, like so many other “worker bees,” I slog through it twice, to and from my job, at a pace slower than that of drying paint. It is an inevitability of my day, as certain as the sunrise and as loathed as late-night telemarketing calls. Today was no different, with the usual cacophony of honking horns and blaring stereos providing the soundtrack to this ritual of the damned.

The anxious tension had me in a foul mood as I waded up the stairwell two flights to my third-floor apartment. Slipping the key in the lock, I opened the door to my private domain – the tiny crib that is this man’s castle – and tossed my valise onto the sofa while making a beeline for the frig. Popping the cap off a cold beer, I thirstily chugged almost half of the contents before setting the now half-empty bottle on the counter and heading for the bathroom.

Ridding my body of my shirt, tie and Dockers, I changed into some baggy shorts and a tank top. Some stretching revived my wearing back and limbs and, as I downed the remaining contents of the beer, I dropped into one of the over-stuffed chairs in my living room and let out a breathy sigh. As I began to rid my mind of the events of the day, thoughts of Natalie popped in like unexpected but very welcome guests. “God damn,” I thought. “Geez I’d like to be bangin’ her right now.” Accompanying these erotic thoughts was the arrival of my dick, which announced its presence by way of a large bulge in my shorts. “I wish she was sucking me off right now….shit.”

With the tension of the day adding some kind of fuel to the growing flame of my desire, I adjourned to my bedroom for a hasty beat-off session. I opened the bottom left drawer of my bureau and rummaged through the pornographic magazines it contained, pulling out a couple of BDSM publications that really turned me on. I let my shorts fall off of me and flung myself onto my queen-size bed. Cock in one hand, magazine in the other, I entered my masturbatory dreamscape, with my head filled with images of leather-clad, leggy dominas doing all kinds of wonderfully unspeakable things to their willing supplicants.

I ogled the pictures and worked over my cock furiously. Images of my gorgeous Natalie attired in spike heels and strap-on dildos popped in my mind like flash bulbs. I looked at the images in the magazine, closed my eyes and envisioned Natalie, stroked Bycasino my manhood and found myself lost in my erotic fantasyland. Then it hit like a jackhammer. The event horizon. That moment that tears at the fabric of the cosmos – confoundingly brief but endless – and unites us with all that has ever been. A guttural cry, low and needy, escaped my mouth at exactly the instant when my seed erupted through my cock. The moment flashed and burned out, like a match, and my entire body went limp and oozed into the softness of my bed.

“Yeah, wow…whew, that was hot. Nat, baby, I sure wish you were here,” I uttered softly, closing my eyes and enjoying the fading afterglow of my climax.

Natalie and I had only been dating a few months. We met through some mutual friends and hit it off right away. Her pretty face was fetching, indeed, bit it was her fabulous legs that captured my attention. She played tennis a lot and it showed in the toned, lean and long limbs that I, at first, could only imagine wrapped around my back. Soon we were a regular thing, even it words like “couple” and “relationship” never entered our dialogue. We’d only had sex a few times – as though we both were still not willing to commit too much – but I knew that sooner or later, as long as I didn’t blow it, that we’d be fucking on a regular basis. In the meantime, her incredible beauty provided kindling for the fire of my ever-burning libido.

“Natalie, shit, baby, the things I’d do to you if you were here right now,” I sighed plaintively. Oh, yeah, the things I would do to you.”

“Or maybe the things I would do you.”

I was startled at the voice that intruded on my reverie. It was Nat’s voice and it was coming from the door to my room. “What the fuck?” I stammered. “Baby, is that you? How’d you get…?”

“I opened the front door, silly. You didn’t lock it. I was going to surprise you with an unexpected visit, you know? Well, Chris, it would appear that I have surprised you, for sure. A girl can learn a lot watching a man jerk off.”

We stared for a soft, tense moment, me trying to find words to assuage my embarrassment. “Natalie, I was just, you know, horny. Hell, if I knew you’d be here I’d have waited for you, but…”

“Chris, please, I’m not looking for explanations. Geez, I should be the one to apologize, or maybe I should be saying thank you, since you seem to be so aroused by thoughts of me. I heard all of your nasty talk a moment ago, and I’m quite flattered,” Natalie said, in a coy, slightly teasing tone. “However,” she snarled,” I am concerned Bycasino giriş about your beat-off magazines.”

“Oh, c’mon, Natalie. I’m just a red-blooded guy. So I whack off to some porn. Hey, I guy’s gotta have some kind of visual stimulation, you know? Like…”

“’Bondage Babes,’ My Mistress,’ ‘Serving Her,’” Natalie interrupted. “Hun, we’re not talking about ‘Girls of the Big 10 or ‘Miss October’ here. This is some kinky shit, Chris. Now, I’m not one to judge other people. Like, whatever gets you off gets you off. But if we’re going to have some kind of relationship (there was that word) we need to discuss some things.”

I quickly countered with a bunch of retorts and defensive gibberish, trying desperately to downplay the whole affair, but she would have none of it.

“So, Christopher, this is the stuff that gets your dick hard, huh? Latex and leather, whips, chains, high heels, dominant mistresses, men being used and abused? I don’t know,” Natalie said, shaking her pretty head. “I’ve got to think about this.”

As she headed for the door, I tried to go after her, but, given that I was stark naked, I was limited in my ability to effect my goal. “Nat, wait, you don’t understand. Please, it’s just…honey, you don’t…Natalie, please, you don’t understand.”

Standing down the hall awaiting the elevator, Natalie turned to me with an expressionless face and said, “No, Chris, I understand perfectly.”

As her words echoed down the hall and in my ears, she disappeared into the elevator.

Three days went by and no word from Natalie. My calls went unreturned. I’d leave voice mails for her at home and at work that all got no reply. If I called her at home late, she’d simply hang up. I e-mailed her and even sent her flowers. I went to her office and a co-worker informed me that if I did not leave the building at once Natalie would call the police and have me charged with stalking.

Thinking that I’d just blown a good thing and out of options, I made a decision to just move on, at least in my head. “Shit, there are plenty of hot bitches out there,” my friends would tell me. And I guess I thought that they were right. But I couldn’t get the images of Natalie, especially her sexy legs, out of my head. And those images played out like a movie in my head during my daily masturbatory sessions. Those images, along with my collection of porn, kept me sexually relieved, but certainly not satisfied.

One Friday, two weeks after our last encounter, after a particularly uneventful week, I arrived home in my Bycasino deneme bonusu usual fashion, pissed of at the traffic and the general state of my fucked up life, quickly adjourning to my bedroom for the tension relief I so profoundly needed. I stripped off my Dockers and the uniform of the white-collar working stiff and headed for the bottom left drawer of my bureau. A few days earlier I had purchased another hot porno mag. and was looking forward to exploring its contents once again. To my surprise, however, my stash of porn was gone!

“What the fuck?” I thought. Vexed, I just stood there, in my bedroom, naked, horny and very confused. Had I been robbed? Shit! Who would break into my place just to steal my jerk-off magazines? This is fucking weird. All these thoughts bounced around my brain as I started to search for my porno magazines. I went to the side of the bed and, though I couldn’t imagine leaving them under the bed, thought I might as well look anyway. Pulling back the covers I peered under the bed frame. What I saw nearly sent me into shock!

No magazines were found under my Serta Perfect Sleeper. But, as my eyes adjusted to the darkness they found, on the opposite side of the bed, a beautiful pair of high heel pumps, obviously in present use.

“What the…?”

“Like what you see, bitch?” The words punctuated the air like firecrackers.
Quickly getting upright, I saw a woman, arms crossed, standing in front of me from the other side of the bed. It was Natalie.

“One more time, okay? I asked if you like what you see, you dumb fuck?” she barked

Did I like what I saw? Oh, God yes! Natalie was clad in a black leather corset, push-up bra, garters and black silk stockings, all perched on a pair of wicked, black patent leather pumps. Her hair fell about her bare shoulders forming a vision right out of one of my darkest fantasies.

I stared, mesmerized, then heard her bark one final time.

“Slut, do you like what you see? If I do not get an answer right now – AND I MEAN NOW – I will leave and you will never see me again.”

“Whoa, damn, Natalie, uh, gee, I’m so confused. How’d you get?…”

“That’s Mistress Natalie to you!” she exclaimed. “All of your questions will be answered in due time, pet. For now, get over hear and worship my high heels. If you’re good, I might let you lick my calves.”

She turned and sat on the bed as I approached. As my head descended to her exquisite shoes, shoe stopped it for a savage kiss on my mouth, before forcing me to my knees to pay homage to her heels.”

“Now that I know what you need, Chris, so much is possible,” Natalie cooed. “Now that I know, baby, I can give you what you need.”

This is how this couple met and how their BDSM-F/m relationship started. I hope you like it an look forward to you feedback, advice and critiques.

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