Date: Tue, 11 Oct 2005 21:31:19 -0700 (PDT) From: Edna Martinez Subject: Sweet Natasha Comments are welcome: baby_edna2000@yahoo.com Come and visit me at my new home (www.ednastales.org) Sweet Natasha Chapter 1 The bright and bulky clouds looked magnificent in the foreground of the clear blue sky; they looked like incandescent cotton balls adorning the picturesque sea of blue. Natasha had always found their sight soothing and therapeutic. She had learned a long time ago that focusing on them helped ease the anxiety she felt when flying. She hated planes; they terrified her. She had seen too many plane crashes in the news, at least too many for her own good. God forbid she would ever have to suffer such a violent death. It was one of her creepiest nightmares. Every time she walked down that narrow jet-way, her palms would sweat and her vision would become blurry. `I hate having to travel this way. Why can't I take a bus?' she thought. The smell of burnt rubber and coffee would get her every time; it revolted her. It signified the possibility of a journey with no return-a chance of losing her precious life. Today, gazing at the clouds through the very small window, the translucent mirror reflected the conflict in her green eyes. Their beauty was immeasurable, and their expressiveness was a transparent portal to the truth in her soul. Even on the pale and blurry reflection, the emerald eyes told the story of her agony and excitement. Something was troubling Natasha; it had her on the edge of her seat, nervous and feeling unstable. It wasn't the fact that she was about to start a new life as a freshman at the University of Alabama, and it wasn't the fact that she was sitting in an airplane, 35,000 feet up in the air. This was much bigger than that. It was the realization of an odd, unmatched feeling-a sensation creeping up on her slowly, yet powerfully, almost in a mystical manner. It was so strong that it managed to obscure every other emotion, fear, and distress in her life; it was so mighty that it promised to change her 18 naive years of life for good. Now, on her way to a brand new beginning as a college student, it was more intense than ever; it had her trembling and nervously looking around. In fact, it had her constantly looking back at seat 19C. `Natasha, control yourself!' she scolded her curiosity and imprudence. It was becoming impossible to stay inconspicuous, especially when she was being driven by such an uncontrollable force. `Gosh, is she aware of what she's doing?' Natasha thought to herself nervously. It was so clear, so beautiful, yet just a dream-a mere desire, an unattainable fantasy-relentlessly teasing her, testing her resolve. As she carefully looked back once again, a faint gasp escaped her lips. The blonde girl had unconsciously spread her thighs a bit more, giving Natasha an unobstructed view of her black panties. Feelings of guilt and remorse flooded her heart as she felt her mouth water from her lascivious ogling. `Thou shall not harbor impure thoughts,' she remembered her mother's words, loud and clear in her head. But she couldn't help entertaining these lascivious thoughts. They seemed to occupy her mind constantly-torturing her, driving her insane, making her wonder things, sinful things, things inappropriate for a decent and religious girl. `Natasha you can do it. Liberate yourself or you shall be condemned to....' Her thought was suddenly interrupted when she heard giggling coming from behind her. Turning again, this time to inspect the commotion, she noticed that the blonde girl was avidly playing and joking around with her friends. Her jacket had the emblem of the University of Alabama, accompanied by the words `Crimson Tide' emblazoned in red. By the uniform she and her friends were wearing, it was obvious they were part of a cheerleading squad. As the blonde girl playfully shuffled around in her seat, she unconsciously spread her legs further, placing her right knee against the armrest. The result was an overt display, which had Natasha once again in the balance between thoughts of lust and pleas for redemption. `Gawd, how beautiful....' The view of an exposed crotch framed by creamy thighs was so poetic, and disturbingly alluring. It meant so much to her, but she didn't know why. Possibly it was the promise of the unknown, of the prohibited; maybe it was the answer to a reckless desire, a passion that was slowly taking over her life. As she contemplated the black panties, she wondered what mysteries lay behind them, what perplexities rested in its confinements-perhaps a whole new world to discover, unimaginable conquests. Maybe she'd find the essence of happiness, the universe of never-ending joy that she knew existed somewhere. She could only imagine what magical perfume permeated the black garment, what enchanting and forbidden musk caressed it. `It must smell like roses down there,' she thought to herself as she dreamed of the possibilities. Yet, it seemed so distant, so far away-only helpless wonderings that fueled her curiosity, mere hopes and expectations in her inquisitive mind. `Goodness, Mom, please forgive me, but I just can't help these feelings,' she thought. And as the guilt hit her, she realized a small drop of saliva was trickling down the side of her mouth-she had been drooling. Quickly refocusing, she noticed that the giggling and chuckling had stopped; she had been deeply hypnotized in her reveries. With a great effort, she managed to raise her gaze from the tantalizing crotch, and as she looked up at the girl, she was met by penetrating blue eyes. Natasha's heart pounded in her chest, and she let out a loud gasp, "Haaa...." The girl was staring back at her, blatantly displaying her unconcealed crotch. She had a faint grin on her face, an insidious smile. She gazed at Natasha with defiant and spellbinding eyes. Carefully looking at the uniformed girl sleeping next to her, she made sure it was safe-a quick and mischievous glance. Then, gazing back at Natasha, she spread her sleek thighs a bit further, and pushed her crotch slightly forward. Natasha quickly turned around; she could feel her heart hammering in her chest; she was horrified, thinking `Oh gawd...Oh gawd...Oh gawd...she saw me...Oh gawd!' Her immodest voyeurism had been caught red-handed; such an infringement was totally inadequate, and even scandalous by the moral standards she lived by. Yet, the inadequacy and vulgarity had her shivering with excitement. She couldn't control her wild impulses; the depravity of their nature had been enslaving her for a couple of years now. Living in an extremely pious community had proven despairing and hopeless; especially in the modern world driven by media. She would spend hours watching the glimmering box, ignoring the prophetic warnings from her puritan mother: "Natasha, that thing is evil." She would search, lurk, linger just enough to catch that magical moment, that incantatory fraction of time that seemed to warm her entire body, to set her blood aflame; it always brought a smile to her face, that extra-strong heartbeat, the butterflies in her stomach. It was her window to the outside world, her window to the real and unknown. But most of all, it was an escape for her imagination, a voyage that brought her face-to-face with the fantasy that was changing her life, the essence that was taking over her being. She would tremble every time she stumbled upon a commercial displaying one of those girls, those pretty girls in shorts or in revealing skirts. At times she wished for magical powers so she could put her fingers through the television, just a quick caress of the tantalizing flesh. `It must feel like the finest silk,' she would think. Yet, her most enchanting moments came with the propaganda that her mother abhorred the most-the women's underwear commercial seemed to totally bring out the preacher in the elderly lady. "Such an indecency should be condemned. The body is a sacred temple; those girls should be punished for exposing their flesh!' But Natasha always silently disagreed with her mother. In her innocent mind, she wished that every commercial were just as gracefully revealing. There was something about their bodies that attracted her immensely-maybe because they looked so tender and fragile, almost like her character; or perhaps it was because they seemed to make her own body glow with that special warmth. Natasha had created her own little world of fantasy in which her imagination had become an escape from the world that immediately surrounded her. In an all-girl school, she spent tons of hours sitting in the playground, morbidly scanning the landscape; searching for beautiful candidates to fuel her imagination. `Hmm, Sophia's are probably baby blue....' She would spend her lunchtime trying to imagine what color panties her schoolmates were wearing. It was her special naughty game, her escape from the barriers of a cast and strict community. She had engaged in the game for so long that it ceased to amuse her; now it no longer sufficed, her imagination could only go so far. That is when she started feeling the need to take the plunge and find out if it all was real. She would then purposely drop a pen or a book while sitting in the classroom. Pretending to pick it up, she would slowly scour the perimeter-ogling, looking, searching for distracted open legs, just a hint of girl's underwear. Yet, luck always seemed to avoid her. Too often she ended up simply thinking, `Gosh, I hate those long skirts.' She felt trapped and frustrated. She would dream of the glorious moment and think about it everyday. But persistence proved mightier than the luck that seemed to so many times elude her; and such a relentless spirit brought her the merited result. One day Patricia's crotch looked so alive that she thought it would talk to her and somehow communicate a sweet message. How it all came to happen was completely beyond her. Lying on the floor in detention after class, she couldn't help but feel angry with herself for the slight miscalculation. Tardiness was severely punished at school, and she was suffering the consequences. Her classmate Patricia had suffered the same fate, and so they decided to lay side by side, reading books and chatting to kill time for the excruciating extra hour. When Natasha heard her friend's first little snore, she knew her chance had finally come. With Patricia's knee bent and her back flat on the ground, it was Natasha's moment of truth-a time to explore! Shaking with nerves, she uncovered the sleeping beauty's treasure with a quick swinging motion of the skirt, bringing the hem to the girl's hips. Searching for any signs of movement, she confirmed that her classmate was positively asleep. Carefully she brought her face to within a hand's length of the girl's crotch. She thought there was a faint light coming from within the peach panties; but perhaps it was only her imagination. It was the prettiest thing she had ever witnessed. Little fairies sang sweet songs to her ears as she observed the jewel before her eyes. She couldn't comprehend why it made her feel that way-so warm, even sentimental, a prisoner for so long, but liberated in such a wonderful presence. She could feel her mouth water as her eyes traced the contours of the flower alive beneath. A small gasp escaped her lips when she saw it pulse. Only a faint contraction, indeed, it was alive. The naturalness of her inquisitive spirit had her inching closer to inhale the enrapturing scent of roses. It seemed only logical to immerse herself in the sweet fragrance of something so tempting. Yet, her wonderful explorations were forced to a halt as she heard the girl clear her throat. Painfully moving away from the treasure, she was left with the exquisite image burned into her memory forever. It would haunt her night and day, opening a floodgate of puzzling and wishful inquiries, questions that would set her soul astir, queries that would take her to the very margin of insanity. Always marveling, and yet most of the time wondering, `It must have such a sweet smell.' Long sleepless nights that would make her days' cognitive state go awry. Frightened, yes, but she was so eager to find out the truth-pondering, thinking, relentlessly envisioning what another girl's cunt smelled like. On the airplane, Natasha didn't dare to look backwards again. She felt shameful to have been caught in such indecent reveries. `Gawd, how stupid can I be! What would she think of me?' Then, aghast, she was suddenly struck with the realization that the girl seemed to have enjoyed her lecherous ogling. `Could it be?' Gathering all of her courage she glanced back once more, but now the girl was sitting in a modest position, reading her magazine. Only a coy smile remained as evidence of her voyeuristic display. Natasha couldn't help the incredible feeling of excitement as she remembered the girl's jacket; it had the emblem of the school that she had sullenly accepted to attend. She would have preferred something closer to home, perhaps an hour away, a school that would prevent her from the much-dreaded flying. Yet the four-hour flight had proved fruitful, even exhilarating. Just to think that her school would harbor such a beautiful creature made her depths stir. Perhaps she would get to know someone like her, maybe even become friends with one, thinking, `Oooh, that would be so wonderful.' As her thoughts went back to the girl's crotch, she felt her body shiver. The black panties' middle crease showed the split of the gem hidden behind. Its image quickly reminded Natasha of even larger and incomparable possibilities, unimaginable opportunities-the chance to explore the world that she had been deprived of for so many hopeless and depressing years, the possibility of intimacy with a beautiful girl's cunt. She was suddenly awakened by the captain's voice in the speaker: "Ladies and gentleman we are making our final descent into Birmingham Alabama...." Quickly shutting her eyes, she leaned back on the headrest and waited until the ship landed. Making her way to the baggage claim, she immediately noticed the prevalent southern accent among the crowd. It was very strong and easily noticeable-a clear testament that she was about to start a new life away from home. She did have bit of difficulty understanding the shuttle driver as he asked her where she was going. But it was nothing that couldn't be remedied by plainly saying again, "I am headed to the University of Alabama. I'll be staying in Rose Towers." As they drove past the university's entrance, Natasha felt as if she was entering an unknown dimension, a completely different universe. Her eyes had never seen such a large crowd of young people. She became immediately entranced by a group of three girls jogging; they were sporting red shorts and shirts with the university emblem. Her neck almost snapped as she followed their trail with rapturous eyes. It was the initiation to a dream that she had contemplated for the longest time; yet, it was only the mere beginning of her adventurous breakthroughs. As she was dropped in front of a tall brick building, she glanced at the towering sign: Rose Towers. It was an exact replica of the catalogue pictures. She had chosen this building in a naughty and rebellious impulse. When her mother suggested a dorm closer to her faculty, she would sulk and dish out excuses of space and comfort, when in reality she had other motives. Natasha found the idea of living with another girl exhilarating, but the prospect of sharing an apartment with two girls was irresistible. The laws of probability were only logical to her at the time: the more girls, the more cunts. As she made her way through the revolving doors and into the cool building, she was met by a sea of moving bodies. A phalanx of college girls-all heights and widths, a delectable array of female flesh, nubile young bodies revealing tanned legs and pale legs. Most were shapely and slim, and it all seemed astonishing to Natasha as she carefully soaked everything in. Closing her eyes, she took in a deep breath and tried to capture the unfamiliar scent of beautiful college girls. Hastily making her way to the registration desk, she stood in front of a pale red-head with emerald green eyes-they were almost an exact match of her own. The girl's tag read Liby, and she smilingly said, "Hi, I am Liby. Can I help you?" As Liby offered her help, Natasha found her eyes traveling to the girl's exposed cleavage. Her breasts were voluminous and the coral freckles seemed to glow on its pale surface. Natasha's eyes twinkled with their alluring sight. "Hellooo. Can I help you?" Liby repeated, her tone a bit puzzled and impatient. "Oh, I am so sorry. My name is Natasha, and I need to get a room assigned to me?" "Aaand your last name is . . . ?" Liby asked, as she rolled her eyes in disbelief. "Ooops, sorry again. It's Finley." She felt embarrassed of her clumsiness. "Okayyyy, Ms. Finley! Please fill this out and take it to the desk to your right. They will issue a key to you." And so Natasha was finally assigned an apartment on the 16th floor: # 1621. It was very cozy and spacious, with three moderately sized rooms, empty except for beds and mahogany study tables. The kitchen was even larger than what she had expected. The balcony had an amazing view of the entire campus and as she contemplated the beautiful landscape, she couldn't help the overpowering feeling of liberty, the impetuous sensation that comes with unbridled freedom. It was even a bit overwhelming, after so many years of virtual imprisonment. And yet, it all seemed so vivid before her eyes-an entire world just waiting for her to explore and to roam around in it freely. Natasha's reverie was disturbed by the clicking sound of a key opening the front door, prompting her to think, `Gawd, is it what I think?' Her heartbeat accelerated at the prospect of meeting one of her roommates. As she nervously walked into the living room, the front door flew open with a girl struggling to pull her luggage backwards. Natasha's eyes widened as she took in the monumental curves of the newcomer. Her dark brown hair flowed to the middle of her back in long and graceful curls; it shined even in the faint light of the passageway. Below the short burgundy skirt, tanned shapely calves sustained the curvaceous figure. As the girl bent to get a firmer grip on her bundles, Natasha could see the subtle rippling of muscles under the sleek skin of the well-toned thighs. As the girl quickly turned around, she was startled to see the slim, green-eyed girl silently observing her. "Heyyy, sorry, didn't know you were there. I am Jennifer." As Jennifer offered her hand, Natasha could only stare in awe at the confident beauty that seemed to power the girl's aura. Her features were sublime; the color of her eyes and the sharp edges of her profile reminded Natasha of an incredibly gorgeous actress, but couldn't think of the name. Nervously extending her own quivering hand, she managed to blurt out some words, "H-h-hi, I-I am Natasha." She felt her body shudder as she made physical contact with the obviously confident girl, and found it difficult to maintain eye contact with the seemingly surefooted minx. Jennifer literally exuded a natural air of superiority, which Natasha found overwhelming. Her facial expressions oozed the habitual traits of a vain and egotistic spirit. This was a girl to be worshipped! "Why are you staring at me like that?" the girl asked, almost displeased. "Sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just that you look like someone I've seen on...." Jennifer's bothered expression softened, and then she proceeded to interrupt Natasha with a self-assured tone, "Please don't even mention it-if you mean like Rachel McAdams. I get that a bit too much." Natasha's eyes brightened up when she recognized the name, "Yes, yes, that's it-Rachel McAdams!" Studying Natasha's clumsy reaction, Jennifer's pitiful nod displayed her annoyance, "Alright, its great that you noticed the resemblance. Now may I go unpack my junk?" Natasha immediately tottered out of her way as the dazzling beauty walked past her, muttering words of disgust, "Ughh, why do I always have to get stuck with the weirdo's?" Natasha saddened as she heard the distasteful words. She had expected a warmer welcome, but the damage was already done. She was stuck with this arrogant brat for the rest of the semester. She would have to endure her insults and aggravation, perhaps even her hurtful mocking. Yet, for some reason, that realization didn't seem grim. In fact, she found it exciting and thrilling to be in the presence of seeming royalty-to be in the constant line of fire of this superior and majestic creature, being done and undone at will, treated in a degrading manner by someone who deserved such empowerment. Just the proximity of this goddess was wealth enough to accept her mistreatment; Jennifer's beauty alone endowed her with the authority of active arrogance. Oh, and she was beautiful! Natasha could still see her bending over to grab her luggage-her tanned upper thighs rippling under the faint shadow of the flimsy skirt, leading up to darker, unimaginably alluring treasures. Natasha suddenly felt a squeeze in her heart, an instinctual reaction to the possibility of having her dream so close, and yet so far. Torment, sweet torture it would be; having such a beautiful cunt so close, while not being able to contemplate it, to inhale its perfume. After a while, having organizing her room with all her belongings, Natasha decided to take a nap. The long hours of traveling and stress had taken their toll on her. Later in the afternoon, she was awakened by a voice in the far background, a sultry voice, "Yes, Mom. Yes, Mom, I am fine. Yes, I made it okay. Alright, bye, love you." As Natasha regained her lucidity, she remembered that she had yet to meet her other roommate. Once again her heart seemed to pound in her chest, even as the haze of her interrupted nap made her body calm and placid. Natasha tiptoed to peak into the living room and saw what looked like a blonde Amazon from Greek mythology. The incredibly voluptuous girl looked like one of the warriors of Scythia. Her towering height seemed to augment her curves to epic proportions. The blonde beauty must have been well over six feet tall. Her bleached-blonde hair had an almost blinding effect under the kitchen's bright light. Her skin was white like oriental alabaster, and sprinkled with pink freckles. Her hips were broad and womanly, and her calves and thighs were thick in an immaculate symmetrical perfection. Natasha thought that this was an apparition out of a comic book. As the Amazon turned to open the fridge, Natasha's eyes nearly popped out of her face; white fleshy buttocks were spilling out from the tan-colored cargo-shorts. "Haaa, ohhh..." an audible gasp escaped Natasha's lips. The tall girl gracefully turned on her haunches to inspect the noise, replying, "Hello there. I saw you sleeping earlier. I apologize if I woke you up speaking with my mother. You know how they are." Natasha swallowed deeply as she did her best to keep eye contact with the blue-eyed Amazon. "O-oh, don't worry about it. My name is Natasha," she said, extending a friendly hand. "Awesome! I am Carrie," the girl replied politely, even while seeming somewhat distracted or uninterested. Her raspy, sensuous voice seemed to thunder in the silent apartment. Nonchalantly the towering beauty broke the handshake and walked to the living room, almost disregarding the shorter and less imposing girl. Natasha unconsciously breathed deeply as the sultry behemoth passed next to her, a now instinctive habit that seemed to surface around beautiful women. She immediately caught an earthy scent that made her nose tingle. She quickly figured it to be the natural scent of Carrie's flesh. Obviously she wasn't wearing perfume; she would have identified that essence immediately, much as she had done with Jennifer's fruity fragrance. This, however, was a more subtle musk that made her depths growl with a strange and unknown passion. It was the smell of sweat, perhaps a slight piquancy of underarm, an alluring feminine spiciness that seemed to fire Natasha's nervous system. As Carrie strolled into the living room, Natasha's eyes fixated on the obscene wiggling of her ass cheeks. The excess flesh of the monumental mounds spilled out of it constraints with impetuous diligence. Natasha found the view breathtaking; she couldn't figure out how so much overflowing femininity became meticulously sculpted into a tiny wasp-waist. The blonde girl pointed out certain things to Natasha in the living room, among them, the new television that she brought for everyone to use. "Isn't it cool? It's a hi-def television. Use it whenever you want-that is, of course, unless I am watching the O," Carrie blurted out, followed by a hypocritical smile. "S-sure. Th-thanks. I mean, it-it's yours," Natasha replied, acquiescently. The blonde girl turned around with an almost provocative twist and bent over to switch the television on. Her large apple-buttocks looked exquisite to Natasha from her viewpoint, and she couldn't help the naughty and somewhat crude thought that came helplessly to her head. She suddenly imagined herself on her knees, her face buried between the desirable mounds, exploring a piece of that wonderful world. She couldn't help but shiver as she remembered the girl's natural fragrance. Maybe the girl's subtle musk partly came from between her legs. Once again Natasha embarked in the torturous wonderings that seemed to consume her very existence. `What would such a beautiful cunt be like? What delectable fragrances lie between those pale thighs?' As Natasha made conversation with Carrie, she found her a truly unique specimen, a sample of power and grace ready to impose its mightiness and dominion upon the weak of heart. Her eyes had a penetrating effect on Natasha, bringing about an estranged submissiveness in the less assertive girl. She didn't know why, but she found herself ready to serve this mighty goddess as well. Her confidence and self-assurance ranked as high as that of the other beauty she had met earlier, yet her vanity flowed spontaneously, almost naturally. Natasha quickly learned both girls already knew each other and were juniors expecting graduation. Jennifer had been a cheerleader for two years, but decided to drop the demanding commitment to fully dedicate her time to sorority business. Carrie had been committed to her sorority from the time she had left high school. She was active and well-known within her social club. That night Natasha didn't get any sleep. She had gotten what she prayed for. All those nights of secret pleas and hopeless wishing were materialized right before her very eyes- - so much beauty and sensuality, and yet, all that power and natural dominance, self-anointed authority ready to own the services and benefits of a willing maiden, of a young helpless virgin starving to satisfy the needs of such self-importance. Natasha didn't know how these feelings came about, but they seemed to have been a logical part of her character. In her mind it was a coherent deduction, only mere reasoning to put herself at the disposal of two superior beings - a testament to the fact that the embodiment of self-assurance is built into a person's spirit rather than flesh and bones. Natasha was as gorgeous a young lady as they come, yet her soul projected a desperate and feeble character, and aura of naivety ready for severe exploiting. As she rolled in her bed, images of the two girls suffocated her. It seemed all like a dream. Being stranded in living quarters with two commanding beauties was more than she had bargained for. It was the consummation of divine fate. Not only was she stuck with cunt, but she was living with royal cunt! In her mind, all the more sweeter - perhaps even more fragrant than the ones she had ever imagined. She buried her face in the pillow just imagining what it would be like; maybe a calming and appeasing warmth, an invaluable and precious perfume waiting to mystify her soul. If only Jennifer would have bent over a little further; she would have had hard evidence to dream and fantasize about. Just the shadow of the burgundy skirt on her thighs lived in her mind now. But that was enough to set her body aflame. Enough to make her wonder what enigmas nestled between the gorgeously tanned limbs. When her body let up, she managed to fall asleep. The next morning she woke up to the sound of melodious voices in her head. They seemed to be reminiscent of a dream that she could not remember. The voices crooned simultaneously: `Natasha - sweet Natasha we need you so much....' Even though the voices puzzled her, she managed to shake the occurrence off and move on with the day ahead. The first two weeks of her life as a freshman were hectic. Alien to the college environment, she struggled to keep up with the fast pace. She hardly had time to breathe. Even her schedule was so overwhelming that at times she forgot about her true mission - her true calling, but not for too long. She always seemed to have time to reminisce about the girls she lived with. After the fourth week she managed to create an agenda that helped her manage her time wisely. And after things seemed to have dwindled into a steady pace, her life took a drastic change. She had hardly seen her roommates after the first day. `Perhaps they are as busy as I am', she thought. She would start to spend more time in the apartment - more than usual, hoping to catch a glimpse, or perhaps even the scent of Jennifer or Carrie. Strangely enough it started to preoccupy her. She felt the necessity to be in their presence, maybe even feel their warmth somehow. She even missed some classes hoping to stumble into either one - but to no avail. Then she remembered that sororities in the university provided housing for the students. `Ohhh- I already hate those places.' Then, she came up with a thought, an idea so bright that it seemed only illogical to have not entertained it before. On a prophetical afternoon, she decided to search the girl's rooms. The idea even though risky, provided a solution to the frustration that was driving her insane. She needed to have an intimate look into the lives of these immaculate goddesses, and their belongings seemed like the best answer. Summing up her courage, she knocked on Jennifer's room - just an act of insurance to protect herself from surprises. As she carefully opened the door, a waft of the girl's fruity perfume caressed her nostrils. The scent immediately made her skin glow with a subtle warmth, and it brought the girl's image to her head. Inspecting the neatly organized room from the door, she noticed that the predominant color was pink. Natasha thought it looked like the room of a well-pampered princess. As she was about to take her first steps into the room, the familiar sound of keys startled her. Quickly shutting the door, she ran to the kitchen to welcome the intruder. She was greeted by Jennifer, who seemed to be in a hurry. `Hey there...long time no see you!' Jennifer said with a hasty pace. `H-hi there...why such hurry?' Natasha asked nervously. `Ugghhh...I have like so much crap to do that it's not even funny!' The girl replied hastily walking away from Natasha, uninterested to start a conversation. When Jennifer locked herself in her room, Natasha lounged in the living room. As she watched the television, she couldn't help the feeling of emptiness that crept up on her. She thought a mere glimpse would have sufficed, but she was wrong. She needed much more than that; she needed to contemplate this beauty - in her mind forever didn't seemed long enough. Engaging in her usual self-torture, she drowned in her ever flowing river of thoughts. `What if...How would it be....?' But her thoughts were cut short as she heard a voice calling her name: `Natasha, do you happen to have an iron?' Turning to look, she was left breathless. Jennifer was nonchalantly standing in only a bra and skimpy panties. The girl's tanned flesh made perfect harmony with the cream-colored garment. Her abdomen was perfectly smooth and firm; her hips flared harmoniously from her waist - giving her a perfect hourglass look. Natasha was totally mute and out of breath as she took in the sight. The girl's physique surpassed anything that she had seen on television. `Well!!! Do you or do you not?' The girl inquired somewhat exasperated. `A-ah y-yes of course...I'll get it for you' Natasha managed to blurt out. Natasha tore the iron from her closet, and ran back to meet the girl in the living room. She didn't want to make Jennifer wait. Entering the living room, she was stopped on her tracks. Jennifer was facing towards the television. The cream-colored thong was wedged deeply in between the creamy tanned cheeks of her buttocks. The sight had Natasha pleading for mercy. It was just too much for her to handle. `Oh, there you are. Are you okay hon? You look sick.' The girl said with a puzzled look on her face, oblivious to her effects on Natasha. `Yehhh - I guess I am fine.' Natasha replied with great effort, surrendering the object. `Okayyy...If you say so!' Jennifer quickly walked away with a mission, nodding her head in bewilderment. Natasha fell to the couch almost dizzy with lust. She didn't how she could go on living after having witnessed so much beauty - all concentrated in one breathtaking body. Natasha felt the girl's buttocks looked good to eat, even devour. She couldn't conceive such sensuality to be real. It overwhelmed her senses to the point of numbness. It was an awkward, yet extraordinary experience. When Jennifer came back out from her room, she had showered and freshened up. Natasha found herself staring in astonishment once again. The girl roamed around the kitchen in a pink turtle neck and black miniskirt. Sexily chewing a piece of gum, the minx looked incredible. It became obvious to Natasha that Jennifer was headed to some kind of social event. The potency of her perfume permeated the air heavily with its expensive scent. Natasha felt jealousy of the people that were going to enjoy the company of this princess. Yet, she could only watch in silence as the girl exited the apartment. Quickly getting on her feet, Natasha went back to culminate her unfinished business. As she once again opened the door to Jennifer's room, a loud gasp escaped her lips: `Haaaaaa....Oh my gawd!' Her heart accelerated to an alarming rate, and her knees weakened. What she saw brought a knot to her throat. She felt tears welling up in her eyes. Jennifer's thong lied discarded in the middle of her bed. As Natasha slowly approached it, she was a nerve-wrack. `Is this real?' She couldn't believe her luck. The cream-colored underwear seemed to glow like a shinning star. Perhaps it was only her imagination. They carried the promise of liberation - freedom of a tortured soul. They were the answer to many years of mental and spiritual oppression, the unshackling tool that swore to set her free. With tears of sentiment flowing from her emerald eyes, Natasha picked up the still warm thong and brought it to her nose. Closing her eyes in emotional anticipation, she inhaled deeply and passionately. Then, all lights went out, and her knees gave in. Sinking to the floor, she sobbed loudly and sniffed diligently. This was her only reason for living - what made her get up from bed every morning, the reason why she wanted to stay alive, the very essence of her being. This, which now avidly caressed her nostrils and filled her lungs; this, was the only reason for her existence - the warm smell of a girl's cunt. And she was in heaven as she relished in its unique musk. It was more fragrant than the most fragrant flower, an invaluable perfume. It was the smell of beauty, the scent of never-ending pleasure, the aroma of happiness; A fragrance that could never be captured in a bottle. Almost automatically Natasha did something that she avoided doing at all costs. She only saved it for special or even veridical moments. It was something she had learned a couple of years back, by accident. Deep inside of her she knew it wasn't appropriate, but the moment screamed for it. Bringing her hand inside her panties she started masturbating. With the warm thong to her nose, she rubbed her very wet vagina languidly, thoroughly enjoying the invaluable moment. Then, she heard a faint gasp that startled her. Quickly opening her teary eyes, she made out a silhouette in the doorway. As she cleared her eyes in terror, the figure became clear. It was Jennifer staring at her from the doorway. Her face was slightly tilted, and her jaw wide open. Her expression was that of confusion and horror. To be continued...