Betwixt Natasha

by E V Daymuir

  Lucinda Lovebrace had discovered the stimulating value of flowing water with her first orgasm at the tender age of seven. Since then, she had come that way more times than she could possibly remember. She moved the swan’s neck a fraction to concentrate the stream onto a precise area. Another gold lever by her right hand allowed her to raise or lower the bath plug, so the water level was never too high for the stream to do its wonderful work. Closing her eyes and leaning back to enjoy the cascading stimulation, the image of Dudley Wink drifted into her mind. He was in for a bit of a shock. She was not aware he had moved to Hamsworth. In fact, after everything had been hushed up and he was dealt with, she had no further interest in him. That was over five years ago. But what was he doing as a postman delivering her mail? It would be impossible for him to find out her real name, but, knowing what a little pervert he was, she would not be surprised if he had opened and examined the contents of any plain wrapped parcels delivered for the penthouse. However, this was not the time to think about Dudley Wink. She blanked him from her mind and went through the fantasies which always helped her achieve an orgasm. It took longer than usual and she had reduced the water level in the bath for the third time before it began to build. It was incredibly powerful when it burst through. She surprised herself by squealing loudly, but what surprised her most of all was that in her fantasy she was gazing into Julie’s blue eyes, as she pulled away from that kiss.

  She added her favourite bath oil and allowed the bath to fill. Surrounded by the fragrant foam she lay back feeling remarkably satisfied and serene. She had been toying with the idea for sometime, now she was sure and knew exactly what she was going to do.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Barrie followed Natasha, driving his BMW towards Hamsworth. When she turned off onto the ring road, he carried on towards town in the Mazda, excited at the prospect of modelling underwear in Natasha’s delicious body. As he tried to remember the layout at DebTash, his mind wandered back to when he first went to their place in Back Street, almost 18 months ago.

  When she first made an appearance at the Rugby Club, he was smitten and logged onto her website to check things out. The welcoming picture for ‘DebTash Corsetry & Accessories’ was Natasha, wearing a gold corset girdle decorated with fine black lace and ribbon. The drawn in waist accentuated her bust and hips. Her throat and shoulders were the colour of honey as were her bare thighs framed by black lace panties and stocking tops. She was an absolute stunner. He had to have her and boy did he try! But, despite her sexy looks, Natasha kept saying no. It drove him crazy. They had been going out together for three months and although he had managed to entice her back to his flat, he had not succeeded in getting her into his bed, which was not his way. He would have ditched any other girl by this time, but Natasha was not just any other girl. She was beautiful, fascinating and clearly as attracted to him as he was to her, and yet, she had not succumbed to what all the other girls in his adult life desperately wanted – his massive cock.

  It was a cold Sunday in January when, despite an overnight dusting of snow, they decided to go ahead with their planned walk to Lippinston, a village some three miles out of town. It was Natasha’s idea and he did not want to let her down. She was dressed sensibly in a light blue sheepskin coat, a red woollen hat with a matching scarf and gloves, thick jeans and stout hiking boots. He wore a blazer and cavalry twill trousers. He never wore jeans and would rarely be seen without a tie, but in deference to the weather he wore a roll neck sweater and leather chukka boots. By the time they reached the footpath about half a mile out of town, he knew the boots were definitely not suited to hiking across snow covered fields and as cold seeped into his bones, he regretted not wearing an overcoat. With the collar of his jacket turned up and hands thrust deep in his trouser pockets, he trudged miserably after Natasha who chattered cheerfully over her shoulder as they made slow progress along the edge of a large field. She obviously loved the countryside, pointing out the various trees in the hedgerows and identifying animal tracks in the snow. He peered through a gap in a hawthorn hedge to see where a set of tracks led. Had she not told him, he would have had no idea they were made by a fox.

  ‘He’s way gone by now!’ He was talking to himself; she was running to a stile. She pointed across the next field and beckoned him on. He was rewarded with a big smile as he moved in to share the stile. Natasha had the most wonderful smile which lit up her blue-grey eyes and revealed the whitest of teeth. Purists could argue that her top front teeth were too large, but to him, in her succulent, generous mouth, they were perfect and spoke of a sexual energy waiting to be unleashed.

  ‘There it is, Lippinston, don’t you think it looks lovely?’

  He looked across the field towards a distant church spire surrounded by a triangulation of rooftops and his heart sank. It was miles away.

  She caught his mood and snuggled up to him.

  ‘It’s not far – honest.’ She reached up to give him a soft kiss on the lips. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a bear hug.

  ‘I don’t think you’re properly dressed for this trip’, she said, breaking out of his hug and taking off her scarf. She wrapped it twice around his neck, pushing the ends inside his jacket and smoothing them out across his chest. As cold as he was, he felt a stirring in his groin which she obviously felt as she leant against him. She laughed that tinkling laugh he loved so much and pulled away. That was the moment he knew he really was in love with her. Despite his many affairs, it was the first time he had ever felt that way.

  ‘Are you sure you won’t be cold without it?’ She buttoned a flap across the collar of her coat and nestled her chin into the fleece lining. ‘I’ll be just fine. Come on, let’s go.’

  They climbed over the stile and walked arm in arm towards the distant steeple. The footpath took them along the hedgerows of five more fields before they climbed over the final stile onto a lane leading into the village. He had never been to Lippinston before, which was hardly surprising as it was not a place you had to pass through to get anywhere. If you came to Lippinston, it was because you needed or wanted to. They walked along the lane towards the church, passing thatched cottages on the way. The village seemed deserted but smoke curling lazily from chimney pots spoke of people enjoying their Sunday morning in the warmth of cosy cottages. They were definitely not in the church, which looked cold and empty. The Fox Inn opposite seemed far more welcoming, but opening time was mid-day on Sundays, which meant another fifteen minutes in the cold. Barrie shivered dramatically to make the point. Natasha tugged at his arm.

  ‘Come on, we’ll be warmer walking through the village.’

  She led him past the church to where the lane divided. The right fork was a dead end to Church Farm. The left fork, sign posted as Smallfield Lane, was a cul-de-sac.

  ‘Not much point in going down there Tash.’ He was thinking that if they went back and stood outside the pub, it might open early. She was thinking it was the first time he had called her Tash and she liked it.

  ‘I’m sure it will be worth it,’ she said with a secretive smile. Had he known her better he would have realised she was hiding something. They walked arm in arm down a narrow lane with a wall to the churchyard on the left and a low bank topped by a hedge, neatly covered with a tablecloth of snow, on the right. The crunchy virgin snow bore no evidence of traffic, vehicular or pedestrian, in or out of Smallfield Lane that morning; Lippinston was a sleepy village. After a hundred yards or so, the churchyard wall gave way to overgrown rhododendron bushes divided by a driveway leading to The Rectory, a large, rambling Georgian house. The other houses in the lane were nowhere near as grand, but they benefited from the same view over a meadow to Church Farm on the right, a copse on the left and then a patchwork of fields rising gently to a tree covered ridge.

  Natasha tugged Barrie along until they came to a house with an Estate Agent’s board fastened to the front gate post. Holly Tree Cottage was the last property in the lane. It was thatched, but not that old
, probably built in the 1930’s. The size and style of the windows reflected that era. Natasha looked over the gate. ‘It looks empty. Shall we take a peep?’ Before he could answer she lifted the catch on the gate and marched down the path towards the front door. Reluctantly following, he saw some movement behind the net curtains in the window to the left of the porch. ‘I don’t think it is empty, you know.’ She smiled and rang the doorbell. ‘I’m sure they’ll show us around if they’re in.’

  The door opened almost immediately and a tubby, grey haired woman with a round face and apple red cheeks positively beamed at them.

  ‘Hello my dear, how nice to see you again. So this is your young man?’

  Natasha beamed back at her. This is, Barrie,’ she said. ‘Barrie, this is Mrs Parsons. Mrs Parsons is one of my customers.’ He tried to imagine Mrs Parsons in a corset. Natasha gave him a nudge in the ribs. Could she read his mind?

  ‘You’d best call me Gwen my dears,’ said Mrs Parsons, as she ushered them into the hallway and closed the front door. She turned to Barrie. ‘You’re a very lucky man, Barrie, having such a beautiful and clever fiancée.’

  Natasha turned away, pretending to examine some detail surrounding the light rose in the ceiling. Mrs Parsons chattered blithely on.

  ‘She’s sorted out my back, I can tell you. Without that wonderful medical corset she made for me, I don’t know where I would be. Well I do know – I’d be in a lot of pain that’s where I’d be. Now, let me have your coats.’ She took Natasha’s coat and clucked her disapproval as she accepted the scarf from Barrie. ‘You must wrap-up well in this weather. Show him around Natasha my dear while I make you a nice pot of tea. It looks as if Barrie could do with warming up.’

  Natasha led the way upstairs to a landing and walking past others opened the door furthest from the top of the stairs. ‘There are three bedrooms, but this one has an ensuite bathroom and a wonderful view across the fields.’

  He closed the door and whispered angrily, ‘What’s going on Tash? I don’t remember us getting engaged?’

  ‘Of course you don’t, silly.’ She took his hand and looked at him with those big blue-grey eyes. He could feel himself melting.

  ‘What’s a girl supposed to do? I love you. I know you’re frustrated because you want to get me to bed, but what about me? Don’t you think I feel frustrated too, rubbing against your – your thing when we kiss and wishing I could have it inside me.’

  His ‘old boy’ would have leapt into a full erection, had it not been restricted by tight underpants.

  ‘Why don’t we then,’ he groaned, pushing against her.

  She rubbed her stomach against his swollen penis and looked up at him with tears in her eyes.

  ‘Because I can’t. I've promised myself I won’t have sex until I marry. And – and I want to marry you. And this house is on the market. And Gwen wants me to have it. And I thought it would be a lovely place for us to live. And – and, you won’t ask me!’ She was sobbing now, beating her clenched fists on his chest and he felt like a real lowlife. This girl loved him and wanted him. He loved her – what the hell.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ He gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. ‘Will you marry me?’

  She hugged him close. ‘Yes, yes, yes.’ She stifled a sob and pressed the side of her head to his chest. He felt her hand reaching for his penis and she giggled.

  ‘We’re going to have to do something about this though.’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’ he croaked.

  ‘We could forget the Fox Inn and go straight back to my place, Debbie’s away visiting her parents in Bath and she’s taken Kate, our house mate with her.

  From that point on he could not care less about the rest of the cottage. If she wanted it, she could have it. He was on a promise!

  Over a cup of tea, Natasha told Mrs Parsons they would buy the cottage, they just needed time to make the financial arrangements. Mrs Parsons beamed and told them how happy she was that it was going to such a lovely couple. She chatted on interminably, but eventually they managed to make their excuses and scamper away.

  They retraced their tracks across the fields. The wooing over, they strode purposefully through the snow in silence.

  A small brass plate next to the front door of number 27 Back Street, in a Victorian terrace behind Hamsworth High Street, was the only indication that it was also the office of DebTash Lingerie and Corsetry. They fell into an embrace as soon as they closed the door. Then, after hanging her sheepskin coat in the hallway and unbuttoning his jacket to unwind her scarf, Natasha took him by the hand, led him through the living room to the narrow staircase, giving him a guided tour as they ascended. On the first floor, she pointed through an open door a large double bed with cuddly toys propped against a pink headboard.

  ‘That’s Debbie’s room.’

  She opened a door on the opposite side of the small landing.

  ‘This is where our clients try on their garments.’

  He glimpsed an ornate full-length mirror and a narrow single bed with a red corset laid out on it, but he was in too much of a hurry to register any other detail. He followed her up the next flight of stairs.

  ‘My room is right at the top, so there's another lot of stairs. We use the two rooms on this floor as our work- space.

  ‘Where’s Kate’s room then?’ he whispered.

  Natasha giggled. ‘She sleeps with Debbie, didn’t I tell you?’

  ‘You mean they’re…?’

  ‘Of course, didn’t you guess?’

  Barrie had met Debbie several times and no, he wouldn’t have guessed she was a lesbian. She looked all woman, in fact he quite fancied her. But, what about Natasha, was she a lesbian too? After all, they had been friends through college.

  For the second time that day she seemed to read his mind and turned to face him on the landing. ‘And no, just in case you’re wondering, I’m not that way inclined. Debbie knows and respects that. We’re the best of friends with a very good working relationship. It doesn’t bother me in the slightest that she has that preference, it’s her business.’

  They climbed the last flight of stairs to the bedroom on the third floor. It was a spacious attic room with a single bed. The gold corset, which she’d worn for the website photograph, was displayed on a half model in the corner of the room. He asked her if she would wear it for him. Later she said, helping him take off his jacket. By this time he had a stonking hard on which began to hurt as Natasha stepped out of her jeans, took off her sweater and stood in front of him in fine lace underwear.

  ‘That’s not very practical for this cold weather,’ he said with a grin. She smiled back. God she was beautiful and her skin was a light golden colour, not honey as in the website image. She stretched out on the bed and held her arms out for him. He stripped down to his straining underpants and joined her. They kissed passionately as she rubbed herself against his erection. Then she rolled over on top of him and gently pulled down the front of his underpants to release his straining member. He reached around her back to undo her bra, only to discover it fastened at the front. With a twist of her slender fingers she did the job for him and the bra dropped away to reveal a pair of exquisite breasts. He placed his hands on them and she moaned softly as he caressed her nipples. He took one hand away and attempted to pull her panties down, but she shook her head, giving him an emphatic no. Then, straddling him and taking hold of his penis in both hands she placed the head carefully over the silk gusset to protect her virginity. He could not penetrate more than an inch. He hoped desperately that the thin material would give way, but it held and she rocked herself to a wonderfully noisy climax which, although it seemed to last forever, did not create enough friction for him to ejaculate. She kissed him on the lips and moved down the bed covering his body with kisses. He closed his eyes; was she going to give him a blowjob? He waiting in eager anticipation, but she stopped short and he felt her hands gently begin to massage. He opened his eyes to look down towards his t
owering erection which she was lovingly working on. As juices began to flow from the tip, she delicately used a finger to spread them, lubricating down and around the head. Her slow methodical strokes were driving him crazy but he did not want to come. He told her he wanted to wait until he could make love to her properly. She shook her head, smiled her lovely smile and lightly pressed with her long fingernails as she continued the long slow strokes. He almost screamed at the moment of ejaculation. She held his penis in both hands, fascinated by the lengthy spurts.

  ‘I bet there’s plenty more where that came from.’ She giggled like a naughty schoolgirl and scrambled up the bed to plant a kiss on his cheek.

  ‘Would you like me to do it again?’

  ‘I would rather make love to you properly.’

  ‘I would rather you did too, but…well, I mean… we’re going to have to proceed very carefully. Just how big is it?

  She giggled again, rolled lightly off the bed, plucking a handful of tissues from a box on her bedside table with one hand and picking up a tape measure from the dressing table with the other.