Sexcapade Of Natasha – 2



Natasha Peters had been thirty minutes late to the meeting. Her apologies had come not in words but in salacious cunning winks that were meant for everybody and nobody in particular; they’d been deliberately made to look special for somebody, anybody. The frowning faces of the angry directors had immediately morphed into some boyish happy ice-cream-licking teenagers.

“We’ll appreciate punctuality for our subsequent business meetings, please,” one of the directors had managed to say, trying hard not to offend the angel before them.

Twenty per cent of Natasha’s mind concentrates on the droning speech of the stern-looking General Manager (GM) of the company as he explains details of the contract, eighty (80%) per cent of her mind is focused on the man who would take her home tonight; he is fair, tall, hairy with dazzling eyes, Dickson, the man who had got her this deal, and had requested for a late dinner after the deal is signed. He is the youngest and smartest of them all, looking too confident and obviously impatient and anxious. This, Natasha knows and to console him, she stretches her leg under the table to touch Dickson’s. He accepts her leg’s touch and enjoys the sweet sensation that travels from the point of contact up to his brain, and back down to his pants. No one notices what’s happening under the table, but above it, all know the sheepish smile on Dickson’s face is uncalled for; they were elaborating challenges of the contract and not profit.

Minutes later, the meeting ends with great smiles and all shake hands, hug, and chat a little more. Dickson chats distractedly with the Business Manager as he also watches Natasha chatting with the GM who is backing him. He makes a sign for Natasha but she ignores him.

“We hope to do more of this with you, Ms Natasha,” the GM says. Natasha smiles and slowly but majestically pulls off her suit. Her pink top glitters with glares around it. GM’s wild eyes blink a dozen times. From afar, Dickson freezes and then says a hasty goodbye to his colleagues and steps out of the building.

Natasha Peter….Slaying Abuja Men

Natasha holds the suit with her left hands and with her right, she adjusts her necklace, placing the pendant –  a crucifix – between her breasts.

“I love where my lord rests,” says the GM, his eyes fixed on Natasha’s titillating chest.

“I’ve to go now,” she says.

“He shouldn’t be there”

“Where? Who?” She winks and turns to go, showing him her backside, and says. ”Cars are parked at Calvary.”

“Then, I’m bringing my sins to the cross.”

Minutes later, Natasha is seated in her car when her phone rings.

“Hello…Car park…oh ok, where? Room…ok, I will meet you there.”

The GM is sitting beside her when she drops her phone. He holds her hand, his eyes scanning her pink top and seeing through it to her skin. His hands start to shake.

“I have your card, sir, I will call you.” She attempts to start the engine. The GM tries to open the door but finds it locked. She pulls him closer and kisses his cheeks. He grabs her hand and pleads, “Please.”

“What do you want, GM?” she whispers, seeing him turned on and speechless; his eyes are glassy, shining pitifully. “Please.”

Then, Natasha kisses him hard. His hands seek her breasts, but she hinders them. He takes them to her laps and then buttocks, squeezing until she moves to his seat, his trousers’ zip pulled down.

“No,” she says.

“Yes,” he says.



Her hand goes into his pant and treats what she found there like her car’s gear and soon GM begins to mourn and jack.

“This is a car”

“Yes, it’s a car…a car…it’s a car”. He screams then she covers his mouth quickly with wetter kisses. With a shaky body, he grabs her firmly and exhales deeply.

On her way to meet Dickson in the hotel her phone beeps and she checks. Cynthia has ‘pinged’ her:  Are you on top? …I am horse riding. He likes it rough…and double fortune at the end. Then she pings back: May horse ride too…I just hope he could hang.

Cynthia, Natasha’s bosom friend has always liked rough sex and she does it for both fun and fortune. And like today, her partners are the honourables or the great politicians whose wives had only shown them one sex-style – the missionary style. With her slim well-shaped body, she could twist and grind at any position, driving her partner crazy and confused. She would even hit them but would say sweet romantic words to them, and all they would do is smile and at the end, write her a fat cheque for a sex well-done.

Natasha enters the room and throws down her bag and goes straight to the bathroom.

“What took you so long?” Dickson inquires.

“Pull off…and turn off the light before I come out…we are going horse riding”

“Oh yeah?” Dickson stands, staring, smiling and hard-on.

Natasha is hanging her clothes not knowing Dickson had sneaked into the bathroom. He grabs her from behind and kisses her buttocks. He licks her thigh, waist, armpit and then her neck. She mourns and turns to face him, placing her hands on his hairy chest, her fingers on his dark nipples.  He does the same to her and her whole body is electrified. He turns her around and quickly sits on the toilet, and pulls her down to sit on him unexpectedly. The idea turns her higher on as they are both enamoured in great extra celestial copulation.

——To Be Continued——

Read the previous edition: THE SEXCAPADE OF NATASHA – 1


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Emdee David is a Creative writer, Poet, Producer and Director of radio/TV/Digital Media contents. As a creative, innovative and talented writer, his works include “Shadows of the Sun” (Heinemann Publishers – in view), and several poems. His passion and interests are in Entertainment, Politics, Digital Media and Youth mentorship. He is the President of Africa Entertainment Network (AEN) and currently a postgraduate student of Media and Communications at CIAPS.



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