Sexcapade Of Natasha – 23

Sexcapade Of Natasha – 23
By Emdee David

The confusion in Natasha’s head about getting married increases daily. Would she abandon her goal of sleeping with ten thousand men in her lifetime or before she ever thinks of getting married? But Cynthia’s head is very clear. She is very ready to be married. Her only worry is that, Andy, her fiancé may not be as much in a hurry as she is, and that Natasha may target her man and have him, just for fun. Unknown to her, Natasha already did.

Natasha looks at her “fucking” List again and smiles at the 39^th person she plans to sleep with. With her wedding coming in a week’s time, she has to hurry as friends are coming too frequently including church members appointed to help out with the preparations. They are choking her, really. But she knows how to find her way. Most of her sex outings are at night. And tonight, she chooses to leave a bit early. Her makeup is light, but her dressing as seductive as ever. The short black lace gown reveals the red bra accommodating her voluptuous breasts. Her cleavages are so open, even the blind can see them. She looks at her ever-truthful standing mirror and smiles to it as usual. You care hot, babe, she says in her mind.

Her phone rings but she only dumps it in her red purse and steps out radiantly on a pair of red high-heel shoes. The 39^th man is outside to pick her. He is a business man based in Lagos but has flown to Abuja just for the weekend, a sex weekend with Natasha. All through the ride, her left fingers are on the man’s earlobe which is setting the man on the mood, in motion. They pick up some chicken-suya and then drive to his hotel.

In the hotel room, drinks are already set on the table and two packs of condom are carelessly placed beside a pack of Dunhill cigarette.

“Two packs?” Natasha shouts as the man goes into the bathroom.

“No, I don’t have his CD,” the man says from the bathroom. And when he comes out, he adds, “I don’t like 2Pac. But I have P.Diddy, Rick Ross and…Bob Marley.”

“I mean these two pack of condom,” says Natasha, whose gown is being laid in the wardrobe. With her bare buttocks stretched to the man. She says, “You wan kill me?”

They both laugh.

“Well, since it may be the last with you,” the man says, filling a glass with brandy, “I want to get enough.”

“Enough?”
“yes, enough.”

“How many rounds can you go?”

“How many pieces are in a pack?”

The man observes a pack of the rough-rider and says, “4?”

“Times two,” says Natasha, who is now facing him and pulling off her red bra. “So…8 rounds. You wanna go 8 rounds with me, baby?”

“Or more,” says the business man from Lagos.

“Have you written your Will?”  Natasha asks, having hung the bra.

“What?”

“Because, I guess this may be your Last Flight To Abuja,” Natasha says and goes to the bathroom. The man starts to think as he drinks then he gets the message and bursts into laughter.

“Round 1,” Natasha says as she comes out of the bathroom and starts to massage his shoulder. He drops the glass of brandy and turns to her.

“You watch films too much,”

“I am a film myself. Suck my nipples.” The man grabs her breasts and begins to such her left nipple while his right hand caresses the right breast.

“8 rounds!” wishpers Natasha. “you be horse?” she holds his is groins and begins to play with them. They move to the bed. He lies on his back and Natasha sits on him, his dick deep inside her while she plays with his nipples. And by the time she grinds and winds on him, the man ejaculates too fast, too soon, and the condom gets torn.

After the second round one hour later, he begs her to allow him rest.

“6 rounds to go,” says Natasha. “And I hope your Viagra is working well o.”

The man laughs and then sleeps off. An erection wakes him up as Natasha begins to suck his manhood. She wants more, but the man is only able to go just one more round. The pain in his scrotums is getting to him.

“You owe me 5 more rounds,” Natasha says as she dresses up to go.

“No, I owe you this,” the man says as he stretches a cheque of half-a million to her. “Have it.”

“What? Please, don’t do that again. ” The fury on Natasha’s face is unmistakable. “I am not a prostitute. I love sex, I enjoy it, but I don’t take money for it. I don’t sell my body.”

“I know,” the man says. “I just feel…”

“You just feel I am doing this for money. But you are wrong, baby. It’s just for the love, fun and pleasure of it. Freely have I received, freely do I give. Get it?” she picks her purse and goes to the door.

“Okay, I am so sorry. But let’s just say…It’s your…wedding gift” says the Lagos man. Natasha is shocked to know he knows she is getting married, and she wonders how he knew. But she chooses not to ask any questions.

“Then wait until my wedding day, catch ya.”