#Sprayer Attachment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

corralinesage · 6 days ago

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Child of September (5/?)

Shoutout to @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 for buying the sexiest blanket in the world and giving me the inspiration for this oneshot ;) <3

18+ SMUT WARNING, MATURE

5. Payback's a bitch

“What do you think about this?” You brought a small, square card to Natasha’s nose, giving her a chance to smell the fragrance you had just sprayed on a thin piece of cardboard.

“Darling, the perfume is for you”, she said softly, giving you a small smile. “You can choose whatever you want”, she reminded you, her brow arching at the sharp scent. The perfume she had gifted you a year ago had run out, and as much as you loved the scent, you felt like venturing out more and trying something new.

“Yes, but I want you to like it.” You were already looking at a new bottle of perfume among the long row of them, clearly not impressed by the sample you had given to Natasha.

“I’ll like anything you choose”, she reasoned, earning an annoyed look from you.

“No, you won’t.” You knew for certain that Natasha was someone who appreciated a good perfume. She was by no means indifferent about smells. When you smelled good, it brought her to you like a moth to a flame. It made her cling to you in a whole different way. You could always tell the difference.

“Fine, let me smell that one”, she relented, receiving another piece of cardboard to smell. You had been at the mall for quite some time that afternoon. Natasha had met up with you after classes to come shopping with you for some essentials that you had been meaning to get all fall. You had gotten yourself some makeup products, missing art supplies, and finally gone sniffing perfumes to find one that you could possibly take home with you. She took a shallow whiff of the next scent, not all that keen on switching up what had become your signature scent over the past year. It reminded her of how you had met and how you had made her feel at the time. She couldn’t imagine finding a new, equally good perfume, let alone a better one. She shook her head gently, her nose scrunching up in protest. “You’d smell like one of those women who have a crusty poodle.” You let out a chortle, placing the bottle back in its rightful place. So that was a no.

“How about this?” You smelled another bottle before spraying it on a piece of cardboard. Natasha eyed the packaging warily, her judgement of the exterior predicting her verdict rather accurately. She shook her head again, her hands reaching for the jar of coffee beans on the shelf before you.

“You won’t find a new one if you keep asking for my opinion”, she warned, breathing in the stuffy smell of stale coffee. “Nothing can top your current scent.”

“You’re a big fan of that one, aren’t you, love?” You gave her a teasing look, Natasha rolling her eyes in good nature.

“It holds a lot of memories.” She had a slight pout on her lips as she eyed the perfumes.

“I told you, darling. I’m getting more of that scent as well”, you said gently, turning to the side to see her face.

“I’m just saying. Nothing can top the one I got you.” You smiled brightly, touched by her rather obvious attachment to your scent.

“You’re more than right.” You continued browsing through the perfumes, sniffing them one after the other, visiting the coffee jar a few times to neutralize your sense of smell before going right back to work. You went through maybe ten, maybe twenty bottles of perfume, discovering a few that you liked, but nothing that quite stood out to you. That was until you found a bit more expensive shelf of scents. Your eyes landed on a gorgeous bottle that immediately stuck out to you among the rest. It was a tall, slender bottle made out of black glass, the name written in gold cursive, a few gold accents decorating the glass. You simply had to know what it smelled like, your hands reaching for the bottle like a child reaching for a ridiculously large lollipop at a candy store. You pulled the cap off, bringing the sprayer to your nose, your eyes widening immediately. You inhaled the smell a little deeper, making sure you were truly smelling what you were smelling. Your eyes fluttered shut on their own. It was one of the most pleasant scents you had come across in a long time. You took another deep breath. It was so rich, but not too stuffy. It was perfectly balanced and exactly what you had been looking for. It felt like it was made for you.

“I think this could be it”, you said in excitement, turning around to find Natasha. “Mmh, this smells so good. God”, you groaned, barely able to move the bottle from your nose for long enough to spray it on a piece of cardboard for Natasha.

“Let’s see then. This one better be good, you’re starting to make noises only I should be pulling out of you.” You felt your cheeks flush with warmth at the look she gave you as she brought her nose forward to smell the scent, its depth and tones catching her by surprise in the most wonderful way imaginable. Her slightly widened eyes turned to you, an approving look forming onto her face. “Mmh, that’s… I really like that one”, she admitted in mild astonishment after having scrunched her nose to the last fifteen perfumes you had sampled.

“Really?”

“I guess there’s only one way to find out”, she mused, taking the bottle from your hand. You had a confused frown on your features when she pulled you close by your waist, her other hand tilting your chin up to bare your neck, carefully pulling back your fluffy scarf. She applied some of the perfume on your skin, the cold spray nearly making you shiver as it settled over your skin. She set the bottle down as she waited for the perfume to dry before bringing you closer, dipping her head down, her nose brushing up the side of your neck. She inhaled deeply, shivers running down your spine as goosebumps erupted over the skin of your forearms. You suddenly felt breathless, your eyelids fluttering shut as your heartbeat picked up into a rapid flutter. Her warm breath tickled your neck as her lips grazed over your skin, hands squeezing your waist, sending a spark of heat through you. She placed gentle kisses up to your ear, the sound of her breathing making your knees weak. “You smell good enough to eat”, she whispered, her hand sliding inside your long coat and over your hip to the curve of your behind, pulling you flush against her, sending a violently strong jolt of pleasure up your spine. You let out a shaky sigh, leaning into her touch, your search for a perfume completely forgotten. “This is the one”, she chuckled quietly, pulling away from you to find that specific look of lust in your eyes, the corner of her mouth quirking up into a smug smirk.

“We’ll get a bottle of that then. What else did you need, detka?” You needed a moment to collect yourself, pushing aside the warmth that stirred between your legs from the pressure of Natasha’s hand on your ass, fingertips a little too low on your body for the public but thankfully hidden by your coat.

“I need… um, uh… lingerie”, you mumbled a bit incoherently, Natasha’s lips stretching into a smug smirk from how affected you were.

“Then we better change sections.” With a packaged bottle of perfume in hand, she guided you into another corner of the department store to find the extensive selection of lingerie that distracted you slightly from the ghost of Natasha’s touch that somehow seemed to linger on your buttocks. “What are you looking for?” She asked as you both browsed through the bras and underwear, Natasha eyeing some of the more casual pieces with the intention of maybe finding something for herself since she was already there.

“A set.”

“What kind of set?” She looked at you curiously, clearly intrigued. You merely glanced at her, going back to skimming over some blush toned lace bras on display.

“Something with lace.” Your fingers touched the different styles of lace, studying the intricate patterns.

“Hmm, you wouldn’t happen to need your bust measured, would you?” Natasha asked without an ounce of shame in her voice, glancing toward the fitting rooms. You turned to look at her, a sly smile finding your face. “The sizing can be tricky with this brand”, she mused innocently, shrugging her shoulders as she looked at the rack of bras before you.

“Uh huh.” You couldn’t help but to chuckle. “We did that last time. What was my size again?”

“A nice handful.” Natasha snickered quietly into her brown scarf, her mirthful eyes lingering on you. She looked downright adorable, her red curls framing her face in the most beautiful manner, a very vivid memory of her in a similar get up on a snowy day the previous winter flashing across your mind. You needed to do a portrait of her in the snow with her comically large scarf and beautiful red curls, blushed cheeks and playful eyes. You smiled to yourself, shaking your head in disbelief as you went back to looking through bras.

“A simple set will be enough for today.” You let out a small hum as if contemplating something, your hands pulling out a soft pink bra, bringing it up in front of Natasha. She eyed you in suspicion as you clearly envisioned the piece on her body instead of your own, her stomach bubbling with warmth at the idea. She took a few steps closer to you, the hand that was holding the bra brushing against her coat.

“And may I ask for what?”

“You’ll see.” You gave her a small smirk.

You came home soon after, immediately setting up your easel for a reason Natasha couldn’t quite decipher. You had no artworks due currently, nor had you really mentioned that you were going to paint upon your return home. She watched you make your favorite warm drink to sip on while you painted, but what made even less sense was the way you assembled a bunch of pillows on your bed and spread a fluffy, red blanket over them as if shaping some kind of still-life setting. She watched in curiosity as she put away all that you had acquired from the shopping trip, her eyes going back to you ever so often to see what you were doing, until you suddenly appeared beside her. You had a look in your eyes, a specific look that Natasha was more than familiar with. She knew that look of dedication, that sense of visionary aim. You had something specific on your mind.

She observed you in mild amusement as your gaze dipped down her body, your eyes calculating but still soft and loving, admiring. Your hands came up to her waist, slowly beginning to untuck her blouse from her straight-cut trousers, the silky fabric sliding right out, your eyes coming up to meet hers. You couldn’t help the slight tug of your lips, your subtle smile rubbing immediately off on Natasha as she stood still and let you undress her piece by piece. Her shirt came off, followed by her bra, Natasha maintaining her confident stance even when you peeled off her trousers and underwear. You would never get enough of the compelling poise of her demeanor. She was so confident in her skin that undressing her had no effect on her. Where someone else might have hunched more in on themselves or tried to hide their most sensitive physical parts when exposed in such a vulnerable way, for Natasha it didn’t matter. She had nothing to be ashamed of and she knew it. You ran your fingertips over her bare abdomen where a few light scars lingered, your touch breaking her skin out in goosebumps, yet she remained unmoving, waiting for you to express your wishes. You pulled back enough to be able to reach the back of your desk chair where Natasha had placed the lingerie set you had bought for her. You grabbed it, coming back to her with a smile that was leaning more toward sensual and playful than anything else.

“Put this on, baby.”

“Mm, bossy”, she hummed in an equally teasing tone, matching your flirt. “I like it.” She received the lingerie set from you, keeping her eyes on you as she slowly pulled the bottom piece on, hiking the lace up her defined thighs, your eyes observing carefully how the lace hugged her hips perfectly. The effect of the bra was very similar as she put it on, fitting her breasts into the lacy cups that were just sheer enough to allow the pink of her areolas to push through. It fit her just right, bringing you one step closer to your vision. You guided her to the bed where the luscious fur blanket was spread, instructing her to lie down on it. The inside of the blanket was lined with slippery satin that felt cool to touch when it pressed up against Natasha’s bare skin. You posed her in a horizontal way, your hands fluffing up the pillows you had assembled to support her upper body. She let her body sink into the bed so you could move and adjust her limbs and hair to your liking, her curious eyes remaining on you as you fussed around her. You pushed her a little further into the pillows, making sure the different textures of the textiles were on display, the fur, the lace, the satin. You placed one of her arms closer to her head, the other resting languidly draped over her waist. Her figure was beautifully accentuated in the position, giving her lace decorated hips the opportunity to shine, the curve of her waist undeniably attractive as she lay on her side. The position made you think of an utterly luxurious nap, a giddy smile finding your face.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re perfect. Oh, my god.” You squealed quietly, girlishly, barely able to contain your excitement, a grin stretching onto Natasha’s lips. She loved seeing you in your element. It was beyond fascinating. “Wait, oh, wait.” You rushed away from her, looking through your vanity for something, soon returning with white pearls in your hand. Natasha eyed them a bit suspiciously but allowed you to drape them around her neck. “Oh, oh.” You looked like you were receiving physical pleasure from how beautiful she looked, Natasha laughed quietly. The pearls gave her such a royal and elegant look, reality overpowering your vision. The image was better than you could have imagined. You adjusted her curls a bit, tousling her red locks to give her a messier look, Natasha giving you a small disapproving frown because she had just styled her curls the night before.

“Sorry, baby.” You gave her a small apologetic pout. “It’s for the greater good”, you said playfully, Natasha rolling her eyes in amusement. Your hand found her chest, cupping her breast to adjust the bra, moving one of the straps off her shoulder before gently peeling down some of the lace to make her look like she had simply fallen asleep after undressing herself from what you envisioned to be a gorgeous ball gown. “You are magnificent.” You placed a wet smooch on Natasha’s forehead before practically skipping behind your easel to begin your painting process. You were beyond ecstatic.

You slathered an acrylic underpainting on the canvas, toning it to a more neutral value that would allow your eyes to pick up on more subtle changes in the hues and values of the paint. You paused for a moment as you waited for the thin paint layer to dry, your eyes fixed on Natasha, an enamored smile on your face as you stared at her like a freak. It made Natasha laugh, a few teasing remarks getting slung your way. You were barely patient enough to wait but you managed to push through, your hand flying to the canvas the second the acrylic paint would let you. Natasha watched you nearly vibrate in excitement as you went back and forth between her and the canvas, your paintbrush sweeping over the primed surface with such ease it was truly a joy to watch you paint. Natasha wished she could have seen the canvas, but alas she had to settle for lying in what was honestly a surprisingly comfortable position for modeling. She might have even dozed off for a moment or two during the next three hours you spent painting, the image on the canvas coming to life piece by piece to resemble the setting more and more the harder you worked.

You tried different brush techniques to create a more texturally balanced and interesting piece, doing your very best to replicate the softness of the fur, the shine of the satin and pearls, the dewiness of her skin, the sheerness of her lace lingerie. You did your best to create a beautiful and complimentary color composition for the piece, making sure the red was deep enough, and her ivory skin delicate enough. You used crimson and ultramarine to bring depth to the red of the fur, noting where the tone was darker and where it was lighter. You studied the way the light reflected off the satin material, observed the meticulous hue shifts in the shadows on her body, spent a long amount of time figuring out how to make the lace of the underwear look as soft and as sheer as it was in real life. You did your very best to make her look peaceful in the painting, just as peaceful as she did on the bed in front of you. She was a picture of elegant beauty, one that you would keep in your apartment, in your bedroom, in your life. You would take it to your grave. It was that gorgeous.

Natasha regained consciousness after an unidentifiable period of napping, her body immediately aware that it had stayed dutifully in its pose the entire time. The fur and the satin felt amazing against her skin, it made her want to roll around on the bed just to feel the smoothness of the fabric. She glanced at you after what felt like hours of lying, noting that you were still your busy bee self, working on the painting like you couldn’t have stopped even if the world fell at your feet. It made Natasha’s confidence skyrocket, or rather, the entire situation had been boosting her confidence from the moment you pictured that lacy bra on her at the mall. Her entire body, her mind, her heart felt so light and airy. She felt so empowered by your enthusiasm, like her physical being was getting periodical doses of confidence and power injected into her. She felt almost high from the sheer knowledge of being able to maintain your interest for such a long stretch of time. It was quite exhilarating to see the kind of passion she stirred within you. It made her feel special, important, and so, so good. Maybe a little too good.

Without even really thinking about it, Natasha moved her hand over her abdomen, feeling the cool skin there, her hand moving over the gentle curve of her stomach. She was getting cold despite the warmth of the blanket beneath her, goosebumps littering her arms, her nail beds a delicate shade of purple. You were so focused on your painting that you didn’t even notice her drop her pose, her hand moving down to the lace of her underwear, feeling over the thin fabric with her fingertips. She was nowhere near anything intimate, her fingers simply brushing over the space beneath her navel, yet her body reacted to the sensation, her skin prickling with goosebumps, her senses becoming more heightened. She played with the lace, traced the edge of it with the tip of her nail, her eyes on you and your focused frown. She smiled to herself. You looked so attractive like that, fully immersed in your art, in the process of creation. Her hand slid lower, fingertips gliding over the lace, but her current position didn’t allow much more, so she tilted her pelvis slightly, rolling more onto her back so she could gain better access to the part of her that she wished to touch the most. She closed her eyes, listening to the steady hum of rain that had appeared during the time she had been asleep, her fingers tracing shapes over the lace, gentle tickles of pleasure spreading down the insides of her thighs and across her lower abdomen.

Her hand slipped beneath the lace, fingertips brushing over the coarse curls there. She felt rather sensitive to her own touch, her lower half already restless from anticipation. She allowed her fingers to dip farther between her legs, feeling over her folds. It felt pleasant, but more so relaxing than anything else. Her other hand that was closer to her upper body moved to her chest, gently cupping her lace-covered breast to simply feel her own body. It felt good, not as good as your touch would have felt, but good, nonetheless. The thought of you made her chest feel tight with excitement, her eyes fluttering open to see you, although you disappeared almost completely behind the canvas, so she shut her eyes again, her hand continuing to fondle her breasts, tugging down the lace cups to feel the skin better.

Natasha’s left hand remained in her underwear, slowly building up the mild buzz that had accumulated there. She knew that she wasn’t quite turned on enough to be wet, so after a moment longer of exploring her dry folds, she brought her hand out of her underwear and up to her lips, wetting them with her tongue. She felt the corner of her mouth tug up into a slight smile when she imagined the moment you would notice just how much she had strayed from her position and what exactly had caused it. Her soaked fingertips found her folds again, gliding smoothly over the silky skin of her sex. She parted her thighs just enough to comfortably fit her hand between them, her other hand circling her breasts absentmindedly. She could hear you work, hear the brushes scratch the surface of the canvas, a dizzying warmth finding her lower abdomen when she recalled what exactly you were painting, and how obsessed you were with your work.

“Hey…” Your words died in your throat the very moment you laid your eyes on Natasha again. You had intended to ask her how she was holding up with her posing but the sight of her was enough to let you know where she was at. Your eyes ran along the entire length of her body, taking in her breasts that had spilled from the lace cups, moving all the way between her legs where the gentle movement of her hand elicited an urgent wave of heat to go through you. With the sudden change in plans, you wiped your paintbrush clean and placed it down on the table beside you.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you got tired of posing”, you mumbled apologetically, trying to ignore the fact that she did not stop touching herself.

“Keep going”, she sighed, the certain heaviness in her tone nothing short of sensual. Suddenly you had no desire to paint.

“I think I’m done. If you’re gonna stop then I should too”, you reasoned, but Natasha tutted you in disapproval. “It’s been hours.”

“You keep painting, baby.” She adjusted her position on the bed, arching just enough to get comfortable, a small hum sounding from her.

“But-”

“Listen to mommy, now.” You didn’t even get to finish your rebuttal. You felt a torturous heat rise up your neck at the term she had used, your body reacting immediately to her. You were frozen still, unable to keep painting when all you could think about was replacing her hand with your mouth. She glanced at you pointedly, her firm hand fondling her breasts, squeezing the warm flesh. She could feel your eyes on her as she continued to massage her chest, her mouth falling slightly agape when she pinched a nipple. “Paint.” Her tone was firmer, harsher, unyielding. It was an order, your hand moving to the brush so fast you nearly dropped it altogether.

You did your best to get back into the flow of painting, but there was nothing that you could have done anymore to get your head back in the game. Natasha was on the bed, her knees spread, back arched, lips parted. You could tell that her breath was picking up alongside the speed of her hand, which in and of itself was already enough to make you want to join her, but you knew you couldn’t, sheepishly going back to your work, although this time around you were more than focused on your subject. With your face burning hotter than a bonfire, you began to place paint on the canvas, vehemently ignoring the gentle moans she let out. The room was silent enough to only barely let you hear that she was wet, the sheets rustling quietly as she moved, your eyes fixed on the lace between her legs. To avoid getting scolded for staring, you tore your eyes off her and focused back on your work, but it did absolutely nothing to distract you because the same image was staring back at you in the carefully applied paint. You heard a muffled moan from her, her body jerking slightly when she found the perfect angle against her clit, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.

“Please.” It just slipped. You didn’t mean to be so pathetic, but you could not resist her, sitting helplessly with your paintbrush in hand. You saw the smug smirk on Natasha’s lips, a pitying chuckle falling from her lips, the sound cut short as it morphed into a groan. Your entire body tingled, your heart dropping because you knew the buzz inside you was not going to find relief anytime soon. “I can't focus.” Natasha gasped, her body receiving the moniker with enthusiasm. She couldn’t even try to deny how much she loved it. Unfortunately, witnessing the effect you had on her only made you more restless, which in turn gave you an idea. You may not have been able to touch her while you painted, but you could certainly talk. “At least not on painting.” Natasha’s eyes remained closed, her fingers slowing down, but her chest only heaved heavier from how turned on she was, automatically drawing your attention to her round breasts that looked irresistibly soft and inviting.

“Paint, malyshka (baby girl).” She spoke breathily, arching her back to escape the pressure that was building up in her body.

“I could make you feel so much better”, you whispered. “You know how good my mouth feels.”

“Y/N”, she huffed as a warning, but you rarely tended to listen.

“What, mommy? I just want to make you feel good.” You put on a coy little smile just in time for when she glanced your way. “Remember how good I am?” Oh, Natasha remembered. In fact, she could not forget. “How good my tongue feels? How wet and soft?” Your hands were itching to touch her, squeeze any part of her, your eyes roaming over her toned thighs and glutes, taking in her full hips, full chest, sculpted arms. Natasha’s eyes failed to remain open, her hand taking the speed up a notch. She let out a shaky sigh, squirming slightly under the touch of her own hand. She was getting closer to her release which was only an issue because it wasn’t from your touch but her own. You wanted to be the one to push her over that edge.

“I remember, baby.” She moaned quietly, her head tilting back. “But you need to learn patience.” Right. If you didn’t know her you might have believed that, but you knew that all she wanted to do was tease you.

“I wanna make you come.” Her face screwed up from pleasure, mouth agape, her movements starting to lean more toward spastic. She didn’t respond to you, she couldn’t, any words that she might have wanted to say replaced by breathy moans. In the little time she had spent teasing you, she had become soaked, her fingertips sliding effortlessly over her folds as she massaged her sex, an all-consuming pleasure beaming from her lower abdomen to every inch of her being. She suddenly stopped, moving her hand off her folds, her body threatening to squirm from the pressure that lingered even without any stimulation. Her chest heaved rhythmically, teeth abusing her lower lip all too harshly in your opinion, but she hadn’t come, not yet.

“Please, Natasha-” She gave you a look. One that was laden with pleasure, but chastising, nonetheless. “Mommy”, you corrected yourself.

“We’ll see, detka (baby).” She let out a few long breaths before opening her eyes to look at you, her hands coming down to the lace on her hips, slowly peeling the fabric off. She smiled at you, gave you a taunting little smirk as she tossed the very lingerie you had picked out for her at your feet. Payback was always a bitch. This is what you got for treating her like your personal mannequin. You stared down at the underwear, your eyes quickly returning to her body to see her hand find her sex again. She brought back the same steady rhythm, building her pleasure back up just to show you that she could, but she wouldn’t let herself find release. She was taunting you by edging herself. She knew that every time she brought herself closer to release, you became more desperate to be the cause of it. She was toying with both you and herself to see how long you would last.

“How- how’s the painting?” Oh, she was insufferable. To think that you would give a flying fuck about your painting anymore.

“My model moved.” Natasha laughed in the most genuine way, breaking up some of the tension between you. It brought a pleased grin to your lips.

“What a shame.” There was not an ounce of guilt in her tone, her mouth stretched into a happy smile. You sat helplessly behind your easel, eyes locked on her as her body found a steady tremble again, breath flowing out of her lungs in rapid puffs, a few moans slipping from her whenever her touch felt particularly good. Sitting in your chair was starting to get uncomfortable, the jeans you wore seeming to grow tighter than you remembered them to be. You could feel that you were restless, wishing to move in a way that would allow you to either find more pressure or find relief from the already existing pressure between your legs.

Natasha brought herself to the very edge of an orgasm, clearly starting to get more lost in her pleasure. It was harder to control the sensation the stronger it became. Her moans were no longer purposely slipped to taunt you, but they were becoming involuntary. You could always tell when she had crossed over from performance to authentic pleasure. Her moans turned deeper, breathier, accompanied by whimpers and whines that were completely out of her control as she teetered the very edge of ecstasy. You thought she was going to make you watch her come undone, but just before reaching her peak, she pulled her hand away. She was panting heavily, her gorgeous chest heaving with each gasp of air she took, her legs moving restlessly to prevent herself from falling over just yet.

“Fuck”, you muttered under your breath, cursing the fact that her bent leg and hand were covering up the parts you wanted to see the most. She looked so enthralling, so captivating and straight up delicious that your patience was truly getting tested. You had always been cocky and arrogant enough to think that such cheap manners of teasing wouldn’t get to you, but oh lord, had you been wrong. You were turned on enough to start rubbing yourself against the chair, but you still had enough of your dignity left not to embarrass yourself like that. She let out a little chuckle, one filled with joy, as if she knew just how deep beneath your skin she was getting. You loved when she laughed during sex. There was no better way for her to express just how much fun she was having with you, how well you were taking care of her, than unadulterated glee. You wanted to hear more of it, better yet, you wanted to hear the certain kind of laugh she let out whenever you made her come unexpectedly hard.

She looked at you for a moment, her breath more even, demeanor more serene. The charge between you was undeniable. You almost felt like you couldn’t even move from how charged the atmosphere felt, but Natasha didn’t seem to experience such petrifying awe. She moved slightly, adjusting herself against the assortment of pillows you had gathered under her upper body, directing her lower half more toward you. She smiled to herself, giving you a playful look that made you want to jump out of your seat. You thought that you had been ridiculously and irrevocably affected by her to begin with, but when she spread her knees once more, giving you a completely uncensored look at her sex, you knew that you were one hundred and one percent gone. There was no going back. You didn’t even realize that you stood up, taking a step toward her as if compelled to simply touch her, but Natasha let out a gentle tut.

“Sit down.” She extended her left leg, the sole of her foot pressing over your lower abdomen, just over the button of your jeans, pushing you back. Even that was enough to make your body buzz twice as intensely, but you heeded her command nonetheless, somehow unable to misbehave. Natasha smirked almost smugly. “Oh, I didn’t think you were going to behave today.” You had nothing to say for yourself. She could see from your face that you were waiting for something, waiting for praise, but all you got was a small smile of approval. “Now, watch mommy.” You couldn’t have stopped yourself even if you had wanted to.

She stroked her left hand down her inner thigh, your overactive mind able to recall in vivid detail just how good the tender skin felt both beneath your fingertips and tongue. You wanted to kiss the silky flesh, stroke your tongue over it before wrapping your lips around it to suck a blooming bruise on her. You wanted to feel how warm she was, kiss her until she grew impatient with you. Her hand moved lower, fingertips brushing over her pubic hair, her walls pulsing at the bit of contact. You could see it with your own eyes, feeling an intense flutter of arousal go through you, your body responding to the sight. You could feel how wet you were, your underwear sticking to your folds, your body begging to be touched. You let out a long sigh, watching how her fingertips grazed over the outside of her sex, tracing her shape, refraining from touching the swollen, pink skin that glistened with her arousal.

“Please. You look so beautiful”, you said quietly, hoping that she was going to accept your compliments. You received a gentle hum from her.

“Not yet, baby.”

“When?” You sounded desperate. Natasha didn’t answer, her hand moving again, fingertips reaching her sex. She let out a pleased hum, her hand massaging herself at a tantalizingly slow pace. She let out a slight hiss as if she couldn’t quite handle the burn, her eyes threatening to slide shut, but she managed to keep her gaze on you.

“Take off your shirt for me, baby.” Your shirt had indeed never flown off your body faster. You tossed it to the side, impatiently waiting for more instructions.

“Pants”, she whispered in between silent gasps, her hips already grinding up against her hand. You undressed yourself into your underwear, Natasha’s gaze hot and heavy on you. It made your entire body tingle and burn, every nerve standing on edge, fully alert of what was to come. She slowed down her hand, a small smile finding your face. You were getting to her. “Let me see you, baby.” She said it in a breathy murmur that made your knees weak, your hands moving to the clasp of your bra to remove the garment. “Mmh.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks from her reaction to your breasts, from what you were doing, what she was doing. “Oh, fuck, mmh, you’re gorgeous.” You stroked your hands over your breasts, fondling them for show, pleased that she was so willing to look at you, that you were fueling her pleasure just through your appearance.

“Let me touch you, mommy.” She was so affected that her eyes slid shut, her body writhing in pleasure. “Let me make you feel good.” A part of you wanted to see her finally find release, hear her moans, and watch her come undone, but another part of you, a stronger part of you, wanted to feel it. “You could come against me instead of your hand”, you hummed teasingly, your hands finding your underwear to inch them down your thighs. “Think about it.” Natasha was too wrapped up in pleasure to be able to respond to you, the mental images you were giving her only feeding into the delicious pressure between her legs. “You could come against my mouth, my face. Or if you wanted to, my hand or my pussy.” You trailed your hand down your body, every single nerve standing on end as you dipped your hand between your legs. “I’m so wet.” Your tone was purposely taunting, your fingers feeling around the slick that had gathered between your legs.

She yanked her hand away from her sex, visibly trembling from the tension in her body, but she wouldn’t let herself take it any further. She needed release. She needed it more than anything else, yet she allowed her body to come down slightly and relax further into the bed. She was able to open her eyes again to look at you, an excited, pleased grin finding her face. She was such a sucker for teasing. She loved testing her own limits and tantalizing you in the process. Her eyes dipped down your body before they slid shut once more, her back arching off the bed in an attempt to hold herself off for just a little longer.

“You can touch me, malyshka (baby girl).” You dropped to your knees beside the bed in an instant, your arms hugging her lower body greedily, your hands attempting to pull her closer and closer to you as if you could have fit all of her into your embrace. Your mouth pressed over her sex with visible fervor, your warm tongue flattening against her, Natasha letting out a heavy moan. You were so hungry for her, devouring her with such urgency that Natasha quite literally squealed, the sound making your pussy throb for more. Your hands groped her torso, her chest, giving her soft breasts a squeeze before touching any other parts of her you could reach. You licked over her soaked folds, coating your lips and chin in her arousal before wrapping your mouth around her clit, sucking harshly. It elicited a desperate noise from her that came from somewhere deep inside her. She was drowning in pleasure, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her body grew spastic and erratic. She was vibrating beneath you, completely lost in her body, in your touch. Her hand found your head to press you closer, the other gripping the dark crimson fur of the blanket beneath her.

It didn’t take much effort from you to bring her over the edge. She was in such a charged state that any kind of touch from you contributed greatly to reaching the peak of her pleasure. The coil in Natasha’s lower abdomen tightened to be unbearable, her focus zeroed in on the warm wetness of your mouth against her equally wet sex. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t function, her body reaching ecstasy with a few good pulses from your mouth. She let out a broken moan that was a mix between a moan and a cry, the sound coming across raw and authentic. It brought goosebumps to your skin, a shiver of pleasure going down your back. She sounded beautiful, just as beautiful as she looked. You could feel her walls pulse against your mouth as you continued to lick her throbbing sex, her body jerking with each dizzying wave of pleasure that she experienced. She let out another unintelligible moan that morphed into laughter of mild disbelief from how insanely good she felt.

“Oh, detka (baby)”, she chuckled quietly, writhing against the bed to soak up every ounce of pleasure she could as your soothing tongue lapped at her folds, cleaning up the excess of come and spit off her. She let out a sigh, her chest heaving dramatically, another laugh falling from her lips, her tight grip on your hair loosening so she could caress your head instead. “God, you know how to eat pussy.” She hadn’t felt such hunger and greed from you perhaps ever before, at least not according to her blissed-out brain. Nothing had ever felt as good as that moment did. You chuckled softly against her, placing a few final sloppy kisses over her clit before pulling away to see her face. She tilted her chin down enough to make eye contact with you, smiling at you fondly. “Moya úmnitsa (my good girl).” You couldn’t help the grin that found your lips as you hid your face against her inner thigh, placing a few kisses there for good measure. “Come here, darling.” She pulled on your arms to bring you onto the bed, adjusting herself enough to fit you comfortably onto the mattress, your body sinking on top of her own. Your cool skin came into contact with her blazing hot chest and abdomen, your body melting into her warmth, Natasha’s firm hands rubbing over your curves as if to ensure that you were perfectly molded against her.

“You’re so…” You failed to find an appropriate word, taking a moment to search for one. “Mommy”, you whispered, kissing her, her laugh vibrating against your lips.

“So mommy, hmm?” She tucked some of your hair behind your ear, kissing the side of your head. Natasha wouldn’t say it, but she could feel her body pulse at the way you said it, at the way it made her feel.

“So mommy.” You chuckled softly, humming at the comfort her touch brought you as she stroked both her hands down your back and over your hips to find your glutes. You pressed your hips tighter against her own when she squeezed your backside. You were restless, leaking against her thigh, which functioned as an effective ego boost for Natasha, not that she needed any more boosting for the day. She smirked to herself, sliding her left hand even lower, her fingers dipping between your legs to see just how wet you were. She hummed in approval when she was met with the distinct and unmistakable sign of your arousal, her fingers sinking further into your sex, eager for more.

“Looks like you made a mess for mommy to clean up. I better take care of this.” You chuckled quietly at her pleased tone, kissing her neck a bit sloppily before humming in agreement.

“You’re welcome.” She flipped you off her and into the sheets, your joyous laughter resonating in the bedroom.

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