I sat back in my recliner with a cold drink in my hand and wondered what in the world was wrong with me. I picked up the remote and started surfing through the channels, though my mind just couldn't seem to concentrate on what was flashing across the screen. Stopping on a channel with a mind-numbing show playing, I tried to let myself get caught up in the story so I could lose track of reality.
Reality just wouldn't let go of me, however.
"What is wrong with me?" I asked myself for the hundredth time that day. "Why do I let myself get caught up in the unachievable? There's nothing but heartache down that road."
Finally, I succumbed to the intrusive thoughts and feelings and let myself reminisce for a while, reliving what led up to my day of torment.
The first time I saw Natasha was in the office. She'd been hired as a temporary receptionist, with the potential to become a full-time employee. We'd been through a number of temps at the front desk over the past, few years. It seemed we never found the right fit for our office.
When Natasha started, I was actually working in a field office and rarely saw my friends in our main office. It was during one of those rare visits that I first saw her. The first thing I noticed was her eyes. They had that dark, mysterious quality that always seemed to be appealing to me. She was nervous, though, so wasn't smiling as much as I like and it made me think that she'd be dazzling if she would smile, but I never saw it that visit. I figured it would have to wait.
As is common in our office, new employees are taken to lunch to get to know us and allow us the opportunity to get to know them. It's usually a fairly informal event so we can feel free to be ourselves. I like lunch with friends so I drove over from the field office to participate in Natasha's welcome lunch. That's when I found out she was Eastern European. I hadn't expected that, but found it exotic and enticing.
I still hadn't seen that smile that made her eyes pop, though.
I spent the next year out at the field office. I got caught up in the project on which I was working and didn't get much chance to chat with the folks in the main office. During down-time on the project, I explored my sexual fantasies by writing erotic stories. It was an excellent outlet for my feelings and gave me the opportunity to try new ideas in my mind without having to deal with the feelings that come from a relationship. I guess I could have looked for a fuck-buddy with whom I could try these things out, but that never really felt like me, appealing as the idea sometimes seemed.
After a while, I put my stories online and started to share my stories with female friends. I found myself getting turned on at their obvious excitement from reading my words. They would occasionally let slip that they'd have to visit the restroom after reading for a while to masturbate and relieve the pressure that my stories generated. That was the epitome of praise. If my stories could cause that much excitement, they were definitely worth sharing. One friend even came in to the field office to tell me that she'd cum four times the previous night while reading one of my stories. That was
Finally, the project at the client's office ended and I returned to the main office. I had mixed feelings about it. On the one hand, I'd get to be with my friends again and would get to spend time getting to know the employees who'd started with the company after I left the main office to go to the field. And, I must admit, I was definitely looking forward to that with some of the new coworkers. On the other hand, I was going to be back under the watchful eyes of corporate IT and wasn't going to have as much freedom as I had in the field.
Nevertheless, I moved my stuff back and got settled into my cubicle in the main office. While I was gone, my location was moved to a cubicle that felt far more exposed. I was initially unhappy with that. I just don't like people being able to see what I'm doing, don't like having my back to the main walkway. It didn't take long for me to realize one of the big benefits of my new location. I could now easily see the beautiful women in the office as they walked to the break room or the reproduction room. There's not much better than being able to see beautiful women on a regular basis.
It was at that point that I started to see Natasha in a new light. We started sharing more of ourselves and I came to understand who she was. Studying personalities and how they interact had been an interest of mine since my teen years. I spent a lot of time listening to people and understanding how they work. I used those skills with Natasha and gave her a sounding board for her ideas, letting her vent when she needed and providing support. During those times, I got to see that smile of hers that really made her eyes shine. The shine was even better than I'd imagined it would be. Her eyes could send rays of sunshine throughout the room, banishing all thought of shadow.
Along with my love of personalities, I enjoyed studying languages. I was fluent in English and Spanish and could understand some French, Italian and Portuguese. When I have friends nearby who speak another language, I like to learn from them as much as I can and I realized that having Natasha in the office was an opportunity I shouldn't pass.
I talked to her about her language and was told that it's a difficult one to learn. With a challenge like that before me, how could I not dedicate some time to it and show that I was up to it? To add to that incentive, Natasha shared with me her fear that her daughter was not learning the language as well as she'd like. I went online and found an amazing website that detailed her language and broke it down into basic rules of grammar and pronunciation. It started with the alphabet, which was different from the one used in America, and worked up from there. With a little dedication, I learned the alphabet and started working on my vocabulary. Unfortunately, the pronunciation was missing. Luckily, I had Natasha in the office and I turned to her for help in distinguishing between letters that looked like they'd sound almost identical. I learned words and phrases from her to help round out my learning process. We started spending more time together. I felt a need to learn her language well and so I sought her out on numerous occasions to get help with my pronunciation and grammar.
Of course, the prurient side of me wanted to learn the words that you only whisper to your lover during foreplay. I wanted to be able to walk up behind her and whisper in her ear how hot she made me and how excited I was being close to her. I wanted to give her shivers as I whispered in her ear what I would like to be doing to her right then. One day, I vowed, I would be able to do that. In spite of that desire, I didn't feel that our relationship had progressed to the point that we were ready to share our sexual feelings and ideas, even on a purely hypothetical level. We were getting there, though.
One day, one of my friends, Paula, came into my cubicle and asked me for the link to my stories again. I envisioned her reading my stories and being turned on and was more than willing to share my story link with her. A little while later, I found out it was so she could share the link with Natasha. Apparently, they'd been talking about something that led to a discussion of my writing erotica. Natasha was interested in reading the stories, but grew a little anxious when she found out that I often use people I know as the basis for some of my characters. However, when my friend shared that she'd been one of those characters, Natasha seemed to relax at the idea.
I get excited whenever there's a new reader to my stories. I shared with her my desire to improve and asked to know which stories she preferred and to let me know if there was anything missing. Her first responses were very simple, but conveyed pleasure at what she'd read. It seemed that she was shy about sharing all of her feelings about what she'd read.
Over the next week, she wasn't able to read too much because of a project on which she was working. She was too distracted by work to get into the fun of a good story.
Work always seems to get in the way of fun.
Finally, she had some free time and was able to really read for a while. It was my day off, though, so I wasn't there to talk with her about it. I thought she'd read a story or two and call it a day.
During a conversation that day, Natasha's nationality came up and I was asked if she cooks authentic food from her country. I wasn't sure, but figured I could easily call her to find out.
When she answered, she had her professional voice on, but when I started talking so she knew it was me, her voice changed. I was amazed at the difference. All of a sudden, her voice dripped with sensuality. I was overcome. My level of desire jumped up several notches. She mentioned that she'd been reading ... a lot. She started to list the titles of the stories she'd read and named off about half a dozen names. I was amazed. I didn't expect her to read that much. I wanted to explore that for a while and get into details, but I was sitting with someone else and knew that I couldn't say what I wanted. I had to cut off the phone call far sooner than I'd wanted. That sensual voice she shared with me was addictive. I could have sat and listened to that for a long time.
.... There is more of this story ...