Date: Tue, 11 Oct 2005 21:31:19 -0700 (PDT)
From: Edna Martinez <baby_edna2000@yahoo.com>
Subject: Sweet Natasha

Comments are welcome:  baby_edna2000@yahoo.com

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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...