“I cut your hair far too short!” Natasha giggled, as she ruffled my hair when we awoke in the morning.
“I think it’s just fine!” I argued back sleepily, pulling her tiny body on top of me and pushing my swelling cock between her slender brown thighs. She spread her legs wide and, when she was nice and slippery, I slowly eased into this little Asian bimbo.
“Call me your little slut!” Natasha moaned as we started moving together.
As I watched her wriggle and squirm on top of me, my thoughts went to my girlfriend, Karen. She was a serious type, a doctor, out of town for a conference. This little vixen riding me now was altogether sexier: her generous tits bouncing, her copper-coloured skin glowing with perspiration, long painted nails digging into me and a swarm of dark hair around her beautiful face.
“What I meant about your hair being too short is that it’ll be a while before you need another haircut!” she giggled, once she rolled off me.
“What’s wrong with that?” I asked, feeling my own scalp with one hand while the other cradled a juicy breast.
She looked upset and wriggled free of my hand. “Well . . . it means I won’t see you for a while, huh? Girlfriend, and all that”, she said petulantly.
“Look, Natasha, this was a one-off as far as I’m concerned. I thought you had a boyfriend as well, anyway”.
Tears welled up in the corners of Natasha’s dark almond eyes. She wiped at them and sniffed. “You don’t think I’m sexy, that’s it, isn’t it?” she mumbled.
“I’ve never been so turned on in all my life!” I almost shouted. It was true, too. She’d been such a flirt, pressing her ample tits against me in the salon while she cut my hair; then flashing her pussy at me in the restaurant from under her tiny satin skirt.
“Well?” she pouted, sitting on her haunches to look at me. “Give the girlfriend the flick then!”
I knew that I’d miscalculated with this one. What if Natasha made trouble for me with Karen?
“Look, Natasha, I can’t just give her the flick because you and I have one amazing night together!”
“How many nights do we need then?” she asked, this time with a glimmer of a smile.
I laughed and she leant over and kissed my cock. I took that as a peace offering, so I sat up and kissed her hard and hungrily. “You are absolutely the sexiest babe I know!” I whispered as we kissed.
* * *
A week passed and life went on as normal. Karen returned from her conference and got seriously back into her study. Routine sex once a week with her was all she seemed to want, so I tried to give her what she wanted. I almost found her repulsive after having spent time with Natasha: Karen was always self-conscious about her flaccid stomach and dimpled thighs and, this time, I was too.
“Something’s the matter, isn’t it?” she asked, after we’d tried to have sex.
“Just tired, I think”, I lied. “Work’s been pretty busy this week”. In reality, all I’d been thinking of for the past few days was how Natasha would reveal her taut, brown body in slutty high-heeled shoes and tiny dresses.
A couple of times I even walked past Natasha’s salon. Once, I saw her standing near the front door, her slim legs bare and her braless tits jiggling, as she laughed with some guy. I was filled with jealousy but forced myself to walk on.
Then, one day at work, a postcard arrived in the mail. It had a picture of an Asian dominatrix on one side and a hand-written message on the other: “I will go naked in public if that’s what you want. xxxx”
My boss, Graeme, threw the card on my desk, grinning. “I hope you’ll invite me too!” he laughed.
I spent the rest of the day thinking, imagining, fantasizing. Karen was due to go on a study weekend with colleagues in two weeks. Could Natasha wait until then? The other option would be to visit her late one evening, after Karen’s nightly phone call to me.
* * *
I looked at my watch. 11pm. I knocked on the door. No music, no sound. I knocked again and waited. No answer.
I went back the car and thought I’d wait for half an hour. Listening to the radio, I almost didn’t notice two slim shapes walk through the front gate of the apartment building.
“Hey! Natasha!!” I called, as I wound the car window down.
One of the slim shapes came back out and squinted in the poor light. “Laszlo? Is it you, babe?”
“Yeah”, I said, as I got out and walked towards her. “I hope you don’t mind me visiting”.
For a fraction of a second, I felt uncomfortable, as Natasha looked at me without saying anything. Then, she broke into a broad grin, stood on tiptoes, asking for a kiss. For a minute or two her tongue coiled around mine voraciously and her full breasts pressed against my chest.
“Hey, Tash!” A girl’s voice could be heard from inside the building.
“Oh shit!” Natasha said, smoothing down her dress. “I forgot all about Cleo. C’mon”.
Natasha’s flat was almost as it had been the weekend before: strong smelling oils, a whiff of marijuana, dim lighting, cushions on the floor to sit on. The exception was Cleo, another little Asian girl, even prettier than Natasha, if that was possible. Her tight dress, without revealing anything, showed everything, especially her over-sized tits. Her golden flesh was on display almost to the edges of her nipples, sticking up from her low cut purple dress. I found myself staring at them, rather than her, when we were introduced.
“Laszlo’s hypnotised!!” Natasha giggled.
“I’ve just been on a photo shoot”, Cleo said, looking down at her impressive cleavage, as if to explain how she was dressed.
“I didn’t know you’d have a visitor this late, Natasha”, she added, as she gave me a flirtatious little smile. “I suppose I’d better be off then, huh?”
I didn’t say anything, hoping she’d stay and give me the chance to keep admiring her tits. I also thought if she was half as much of a show-off as Natasha, she might even reveal a bit more.
“Well, we could all go out together, just for a quick drink, couldn’t we?” Natasha offered. She was obviously not wanting to offend her friend, so I quickly agreed.
“My car’s just outside”, I offered. “We could drive down to Barrio’s”.
“Let me just get changed”, Natasha winked. “I won’t be a moment, hon”.
While she was busy, I chatted with Cleo, who found a way to sit with her legs elegantly folded on a cushion. Up closer, I saw her outfit was made of purple lace and was actually a miniskirt and bustier top. As we talked, she kept fingering the spaghetti straps that precariously held her top up.
“So, Natasha’s told me all about you”, Cleo started, as she carelessly stretched the left strap of her top. I raised my eyebrows and wondered what she’d heard.
“Well, I hope it was vaguely complimentary”, I smiled.
As we chatted on, my eyes kept being drawn to Cleo fiddling with the straps of her top so that they gradually slid down one shoulder, then the other.
“So, Natasha tells me you get off on her sexy outfits”, Cleo said, quite loudly, at one point. She said this as she leaned towards me slightly, giving me a clear view of the deep cleft between her large breasts.
“What are you two talking about?” came Natasha’s little voice from her bedroom. “I heard the word sex!”
“What are you doing in there, you little slut!” Cleo called. She struggled to her feet, because of the height of her heels; I leapt up to give her a hand and was pleased to see her heavy breasts almost jiggle free of her little top as she steadied herself.
“Wow!” said Cleo as she leaned on my arm. “I’m a bit dizzy! Too much to smoke, I think!” She giggled and pushed her tits against me as she took my arm. “C’mon, let’s see what that horny little bitch is up to!”
We arrived at the bedroom door and found Natasha sifting through a pile of slinky little garments on her bed.
“I’ve tried on about 10 things, and nothing’s right!” she complained, albeit with a little smile.
“What’s wrong with what you’ve got on, honey?” Cleo asked, as she walked over to where Natasha was perched on the edge of the bed.
My hard-on became harder when I took in what Natasha was actually wearing: a loose lacey miniskirt which only just covered her lap but not her butt and a matching sheer top which was hanging open, completely unbuttoned.
“I might wear it to a party or something, but it’s way too slutty for Barrio’s!” Natasha giggled, sitting up straight and pushing her tits right out of the little top. “But Laszlo can be the judge!” she added, caressing her breasts with her little hands.
“Well, I got this postcard at work earlier in the week . . .”, I started to say, with a smile.
“Oh, no!!!” Natasha wailed. “Not now, please!”
Cleo looked from Natasha to me, and back again, perplexed. “What’s with the postcard?” she asked.
“Here!” I said, taking it from my pocket and handing it to Cleo.
She read it and her face lit up when she realised what it meant. “You wrote this to him!” she squealed, laughing at Natasha. “You little slut!!!”
She stood, giggling, as Natasha blushed deeply. “OK, honey, we’re going to Barrio’s!! Isn’t she Laszlo?” Cleo blew me a kiss and then grabbed Natasha by the hand.
“C’mon, baby. Just as you are is fine!” Cleo said as she pulled the struggling Natasha towards the door. It was clear that Natasha had no underwear, no bra, under her two utterly tiny items of clothing.
“Can’t I do up my top???” Natasha objected. “And I can’t just go barefoot!”
“But, honey, why did you put these on for in the first place?” countered Cleo. “You were thinking of wearing them, weren’t you? What do you think Laszlo?”
She still held Natasha by the hand, although we were at the front door, which I’d opened. “I think we should let Natasha wear some shoes. And, maybe, one button is enough”.
In Natasha’s bedroom I found an amazing pair of 6″ platforms. “These should do, huh?” I winked at Cleo.
As I knelt to tie them around Natasha’s ankles, I held her little feet tight and looked up her smooth legs at her newly shaved pussy.
“You are a little slut, Natasha! You’re wet!!” I laughed, as I ran a finger up her leg to her little slit. She wriggled as I did so, and giggled.