Natalia, or Nata as her friends called her, was sprawled on the couch, lazily scrolling through her phone. The evening promised to be a drag until it was interrupted by a call.
– “Nat, you coming to the party?” her friend’s voice carried a hopeful tone.
– “Who’s gonna be there?” Natalia set the phone aside, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling.
– “All our crew.”
– “Maybe. Though, you know, these gatherings are usually so damn dull… no spark,” she smirked, getting up from the couch and peeling off her sweatpants to head for the shower.
– “So, are you in or not?”
– “We’ll see. Is that hot guy showing up?”
– “Who?”
– “Sasha. The blond one with cheekbones that make your heart skip a beat.”
– “That’s Vera’s guy.”
– “Oh, her… whatever. Alright, girl, I’ve got stuff to do, talk later,” Natalia tossed the phone back onto the couch and, shedding the rest of her clothes, stepped into the bathroom.
Warm streams of water caressed her skin, washing away the day’s fatigue. She stood there, letting the water wrap around her like tender hands, her mind drifting to yesterday’s shift at the restaurant. Her legs ached from hours on her feet, but the memory of a steamy encounter behind the bar after closing sent her blood racing. That bartender knew how to light a fire, and she couldn’t resist indulging in that brief, blazing moment of passion.
Her thoughts were cut short by a cold draft brushing against her skin. “Brr,” she shivered, stepping out of the shower and wrapping herself in a towel. In the mirror, her figure stared back at her—curves carved as if by a sculptor, tempting even herself. She smiled at her reflection, feeling a familiar heat stirring within.
The phone rang again.
– “Yeah, I said I’d think about it,” she snapped irritably, slipping on her underwear. But her friends were persistent. They knew her presence at a party was like a magnet for attention. Nata was always the center of gravity, her aura of confidence and hidden desire captivating everyone. They even joked that without her, a party was just a boring get-together.
Before bed, she texted her friends that she’d drop by, but only briefly. If it sucked, she’d leave without a second thought. Deep down, though, she hoped the night would offer at least a flicker of something new, something thrilling.
The party was in an old apartment with high ceilings and antique furniture steeped in the scent of history. Natalia walked in, scanning the crowd. Familiar faces, whispers behind her back, curious glances. She knew her arrival was an event, and it fed her ego.
– “Hey, slut, thought you wouldn’t show,” giggled one of her friends, whose name Nata didn’t even bother to recall. She just smiled back, unwilling to waste energy on small talk. Her crowd was temporary, like a passing breeze, and she had no desire to get attached. Her goal was bigger—to find someone who could give her the life she dreamed of. For now, though… for now, she could just enjoy the moment.
Her gaze roamed the room, picking out potential “targets” from the crowd. One guy, whose name she didn’t care to remember, approached her on his own.
– “You look good,” she tossed out casually, just to start a conversation. He beamed at the compliment and launched into a story about his life, but her mind was already elsewhere. She imagined this room as the stage for her little game, her body bending in a dance of passion, feeling no pain, only pleasure.
– “Got a girlfriend?” she interrupted his ramble.
– “No, but I’d like one.”
– “Come on, help me with my bra,” her voice was soft but commanding.
They slipped into one of the rooms, where the old walls might once have echoed with children’s laughter or lovers’ whispers. But now, a different vibe ruled. The door didn’t lock, but she didn’t care. She knew what she wanted and how to take it.
– “Been a while since you had something serious?” she asked, staring straight into his eyes.
– “A long time…” he hesitated.
– “Then don’t let me down,” her smile was almost predatory as her hands slid to where she could feel his tense strength. She didn’t like drawn-out foreplay; she craved control over the moment, over the man, over herself.
Their dance was fast, rough, like a storm that sweeps in and vanishes, leaving only a faint tremor behind. She didn’t seek tenderness; what turned her on was the idea of an alien force invading her space. When it was over, she simply said:
– “You’re free to go.”
Stepping out of the room, she plopped onto a couch, surveying the scene. The party felt dreary, but her body still craved more. The next guy approached on his own. She didn’t bother listening to his chatter, dragging him straight to the bathroom where the space was tight but enough for their game.
– “Hurry up,” she whispered, leaning against the edge of the tub. Her body arched like a bow ready to fire, and she felt warmth spreading inside, washing away her worries. But the climax didn’t deliver what she wanted, and she dismissed him coldly:
– “You’re free to go.”
Her hunger didn’t fade. She sat on the tub’s edge, not bothering with clothes, when a knock came at the door. The new guest, Anton, was bolder, and she liked that. Their game was like a rollercoaster—ups and downs, dizzying moments where her body felt like either the cart or the machinery itself, pushed to its limits.
– “I like you,” she breathed out, feeling the fire ignite within. “Maybe we’ll do this again sometime?”
– “Text me, I’ll come over at night if insomnia hits,” his voice was hoarse with strain.
And finally, the long-awaited peak—a storm of emotions that overwhelmed her from head to toe, leaving a sweet weakness in its wake. For the first time that night, she felt not like a hunter, but like a woman craving care.
– “I’ll save you as ‘Gusher’,” she smirked. “Don’t need your name.”
– “And I’ll save you as ‘First Secret’,” he replied, leaving.
She stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a slight fatigue, but her eyes still searched. She was drawn to the new, the unknown. And at that moment, she spotted two guys by the wall.
– “Good evening,” her voice was soft, but laced with provocation.
– “Evening. Who’re you?” asked the sturdier of the two.
– “Nata. And you?”
– “My buddy here got divorced yesterday. Can you take him in for a bit?”
– “I was thinking we’d have some fun, the three of us,” her eyes glinted.
– “Nah, I’m not into that. But fine, come on, I’ll show you what real fire feels like, then I’m heading home to my wife,” his tone was sharp, but she just smiled.
They slipped onto the balcony, where thin curtains barely hid their shadows. Her colleagues, a waitress and a bartender, sat nearby, but she didn’t notice them, consumed by the moment. When it was done, she returned to the main room, casting a glance at the friend of the guy she’d just been with.
– “Don’t look so down,” she said with a wink. “Wanna come to my place? I’m bored here.”
They left without goodbyes. Nata rented an apartment, and though her income had dipped, she hadn’t lost hope of finding someone to help with rent—and more. This guy, Vlad, didn’t seem interesting at first, but in the taxi, she changed her mind. His calm felt like a quiet harbor after stormy waves.
The night passed in heated embraces, and by morning, her body ached with a sweet pain. She watched Vlad sleep, marveling at how his strength could be so overwhelming at night and so mundane now.
– “Nata, Natalia, Natushka,” she introduced herself when he woke.
– “Vlad. Sasha’s friend.”
– “That hottie?”
– “Well, if you think so. He got married recently, not by choice, but had to.”
– “Got it. Listen, Vlad, why don’t you stay with me? I rent this place, we can split the costs.”
– “I’m good to cover it all. Just got a promotion, and at home… well, things with my wife fell apart, headed for divorce, though it’s not official yet.”
– “Cool. Here are the spare keys, take ‘em. I’ve got work at noon, you?”
– “Ten.”
– “Then we’ve got time. I’ll make some porridge, want some?”
– “Sure.”
He stood, and her gaze involuntarily drifted downward. Smiling, she whispered:
– “I like you.”
She was a bit late to work, but it was fine. The bartender, with whom she shared some secrets, asked:
– “How’d you get here?”
– “Fine. You?”
– “Same. Walked through the park, got… well, a little warmed up,” he chuckled, trying to sound tough.
– “And?”
– “She’s happy, I didn’t finish. Said she got cold.”
– “Don’t sweat it. Us girls are a mystery. Hell, I don’t even get why I do half the shit I do. Anyway, enough chit-chat, let’s get to work.”