tagNonConsent/ReluctanceNatalie Risks All

Natalie Risks All

byBobbiR©

The lecture was boring. Even Natalie was bored, and she was delivering it. She looked at the ten faces in front of her, sagging with indifference and incomprehension. Is this what her life had come to? Trying to teach maths to engineering students at a provincial university. What had happened to the bright ambitious graduate she had once been? Here she was, almost 40, still in the same job she had had for the last 17 years, still single, unloved, unlovely, frustrated and bored to death. Is this all that life had to offer her? Three nights of the week at the gym to burn off the calories and frustration; Friday nights in a wine bar with other single women bitching and whining about how men only wanted 18-year-old girls with legs up to their armpits (is it any wonder, thought Natalie, with all the moaning we do?); and Saturday nights dinner at the homes of her married colleagues where she would be forced to listen to them all declaring how wonderful their children were. How had she come to this? Would no one rescue her? All she wanted was a rich handsome man to fall hopelessly in love with her and devote his life to satisfying her every desire. Was that too much to ask? Well, yes, of course it was. Being a maths lecturer, Natalie knew what the chances of her wish coming true were. Maybe she should go home right now and stick her head in the gas oven.

She realised she had lost her train of thought. In the sudden silence she scanned the faces before her. None seemed to register the fact that she had stopped talking. Perhaps she should stand there like that until the end of the lecture -- would any of them notice? Well, perhaps two of them would. Her eyes rested on the only students who seemed to show any sign of life. What were their names? Rory and Scott. Bright 20-year-olds. The only ones whose work showed any promise.

"Are you all right, Miss?" asked Rory.

Natalie's mind snapped back into focus. "Where was I?"

"The equation for a parabola," said Scott without a pause.

"Thank you, Scott." At least someone had been listening.

For the rest of the lecture she forced herself to put a bit of effort into her presentation -- if only for the sake of Scott and Rory. Just because she was bored with delivering the same lecture year after year didn't give her the excuse to take it out on them. She knew from her colleagues that they were good students across all their modules. They deserved the best she could give them.

Actually, they were rather good looking too, she decided, as she found herself directing more and more of her words at them. She remembered they were twins and that one of her single female colleagues had remarked longingly that they looked like young George Clooneys. In that case, Natalie had replied, I'd like to meet their father.

The lecture ended and the students headed for the door with new-found energy. Scott and Rory were the last. Whispering to each other they approached Natalie.

"Yes?"

"We just wanted to say," started Rory.

"That we thought today's lecture was pretty good," finished Scott.

"Thank you," said Natalie, taken aback. When was the last time a student had complimented her on a lecture? So long ago she couldn't even remember it. "Your coursework is very good too, so I must be doing something right."

"And we also wanted to say," added Rory.

"That we like that skirt you're wearing."

"It really suits you."

"We think you're the best-looking lecturer in the whole University," finished Scott.

And before the stunned Natalie could think of a reply, they were gone.

Best looking? Skirt? What were they talking about? That morning she had simply grabbed things out of the wardrobe at random, just as on every morning. True, she hadn't worn this one for some time, and perhaps it was more colourful than her others and, now she looked at it, quite a bit shorter. And she was wearing higher heels than she usually did. Oh dear, had she really been showing that much leg?

In bed that night she lay thinking about Scott and Rory. Did they really find her attractive, or was this some trick to make her give them higher marks? It seemed unlikely, since they were already doing so well. Yet it seemed equally unlikely that two good-looking 20-year-old boys would find her in any way beautiful. She was almost old enough to be their mother, for goodness sake. Not that she didn't have quite a good figure for her age, she told herself. Three nights a week at the gym hadn't been entirely wasted. She still had firm thighs, a narrow waist and a reasonably self-supporting bosom. Oh don't be ridiculous, she told herself. You canÕt compete with girls half your age. But still, the picture of Scott and Rory complimenting her wouldn't go away. She opened her bedside cupboard and reached for her favourite vibrator.

The following week found Natalie wearing the same short skirt and high heels, plus a tight top with a rather daring neckline. What am I doing, she had asked herself standing in front of the wardrobe mirror that morning. For goodness sake, act your age. But she hadn't changed. Why shouldn't she dress for compliments? It wasnÕt as if she received so many she could afford to be indifferent to them when they came. It was a harmless enough pleasure, after all.

But as the students filed in and took their seats, her nerve failed her. She couldnÕt just parade in front of Scott and Rory, letting them see how much sheÕd taken their compliments to heart. She remained seated behind her desk. The lecture proceeded without incident. While the rest of the class looked as if they were on the point of falling asleep, Scott and Rory hung on her every word, taking copious notes and wearing expressions of rapt concentration. Their focus was infectious. After only 20 minutes Natalie found herself so taken up in the subject that she forgot how she was dressed and emerged from behind her desk to walk enthusiastically among the students as she talked. The end of the hour came almost without her noticing it, so engrossed had she become. But she did notice when Scott and Rory hung back again after the others had gone, just like the previous week.

"Another great lecture, Miss," said Scott.

"And that top looks great on you," added Rory. "You look amazing."

And they were gone. Poor Natalie blushed to her roots. No one had ever described her as amazing, not even when she'd been young. It was completely ridiculous. It was almost making her cry. They were boys, for goodness sake. Pull yourself together. Anyway, the following week would be the last before the Christmas vacation. That would put a stop to all this nonsense.

But the following week came and once again Natalie found herself wearing the same short skirt, high heels and tight top. Had she become so desperate for signs of appreciation that she was prepared to seek them from 20-year-old boys? Well, yes, she had. Feeling rather brazen, she strode about the room on her long legs and delivered a lecture with such energy it even woke some of the other students from their lethargy. At the end of the hour she set them their vacation assignments and they filed out. As usual -- and to Natalie's mounting sense of anticipation -- Rory and Scott were the last to go. Scott went to the door and closed it.

"What are you doing?" asked Natalie, a little alarm bell faintly ringing in her mind.

"It's Christmas," said Rory.

She turned to see that he was holding aloft a rather pathetic green twig with white berries.

"Mistletoe," he explained, smiling broadly.

Oh dear, thought Natalie, he is so handsome when he smiles. The next thing she knew she was in ScottÕs arms and he was kissing her firmly on the mouth. More from reflex than anything else she tried to resist and cry out, but all that emerged was a muffled "mmmmÓ, which, let's face it, could have meant anything. In any case Scott was so strong, after a moment she realised it was futile to struggle. His lips remained locked onto hers. It had been such a long time since she had been kissed at all, let alone so passionately. It was intoxicating. She felt herself wilting, going limp. She put her arms around him to stop herself from falling, another "mmmm" escaping her. She could hardly breathe. She opened her lips, only to find his tongue slipping between them. Oh Lord. It was too much. She could feel his erection pressing against her belly. How long was it since she had had that effect on a man? Her legs began to tremble at the thought.

Then Scott released her. She was free Ð admittedly unsteady on her high heels, but at least she could breathe again.

"My turn," was all she heard before she was enveloped in Rory's arms. Already weakened by ScottÕs embrace she could put up no resistance. His mouth found hers and she opened her lips to welcome it. Oh heavens, the touch of a man's lips. How had she managed for so long without it? She didn't care that they were those of a 20-year-old. He was a man, wasn't he? They were both men. Definitely. She could feel his erection too. Was she the cause of that one as well? It seemed hardly possible. Surely they wanted girls their own age, not a middle-aged woman like her. Yet here she was, Rory's tongue in her mouth, his erect cock hard against her stomach, his arms crushing the breath out of her. "Mmmm," she moaned, hardly knowing whether it was in protest or pleasure. But then she was kissing him back. Her tongue found his, her arms went round his waist, her belly pressed against his upright cock. Happy Christmas, she thought idiotically.

That evening she went to the gym and pounded hell out of the treadmill. But even when she was lying on the sofa at home, exhausted and enjoying her reward of a glass of wine, she still felt tense and strung out. It was only after a third glass that she started to relax. Not that she could forget the two long Christmas kisses she had received -- indeed, not that she wanted to. But at least the memory of them no longer made her want to run out into the street and scream in frustration.

That night she opened her legs wide to the ministrations of her vibrator, conjuring the picture of Rory kissing her breasts while Scott sucked on her clitoris. Whatever else she was short of, it certainly wasn't an erotic imagination. She came after only a minute or two, long and fierce, her hips bucking up to meet the throbbing vibrator clutched between her aching thighs.

The vacation passed in a sort of torture. Visiting her sister's family and being forced to act the doting aunt to her precocious children felt like a kind of madness, when all she wanted to do was lie in bed and think about Scott and Rory. Yet she knew that was also an insanity. What, after all, had happened? She had been kissed under the mistletoe by two of her students. That's all. What else did she think was going to happen? She tried to put it all out of her mind. Scott and Rory were nice boys, but that was all. They'd played a silly game, but that was it. It was over. They'd had their fun at her expense and if they tried it again, she would simply tell them to stop. And if that failed, she would go to the Dean.

So it was a new, serious Natalie who awaited her students at the start of the term. She was determined to put boredom behind her. It was her fault if her students were indifferent, not theirs. She would put more effort into her classes. If this really were to be her life from now on, she would go down fighting.

Unfortunately the sight of the twinsÕ handsome faces smiling expectantly at her put all her new-found determination right out of her mind. Despite her resolve, she found herself stumbling and stuttering over her words as if she had never uttered them before. Truth to tell, it was all a bit of a disaster. Even the twins looked as if they were losing interest. At the end she rushed out of the room before any of the students could even stand.

At home she drank half a bottle of wine and told herself to get a grip. She was behaving like a schoolgirl with a crush. How had Scott and Rory got to her so easily? Was she really such a sad case?

By the time a week had passed she had lost the will to contradict herself. Yes, she was a sad case. She didn't care any more. All she wanted were the smiles and compliments of the boys and to feel their mouths on hers and their stiff cocks against her belly. So she dressed in the short skirt and tight top and put on her high heels and waited for whatever might befall her.

The lecture passed in a sort of daze. The words came out but she hardly knew what she was saying. She paraded her long legs and cleavage in front of the boys, knowing only too well that she was putting on a show for them. She didn't care. All she wanted was one more kiss. When the hour was up she felt so unsteady on her feet that she had to sit down. Only dimly did she become aware that Rory and Scott were standing in front of her and that the other students had left.

"Are you okay, Miss Natalie?" asked Rory, genuine concern in his voice.

"I'm fine," she said, not feeling at all fine. Was she going to faint?

"You'd better drink this," said Scott, holding a glass of water in front of her.

She gulped a couple of big mouthfuls. The cold water revived her almost instantly. The boys concerned faces moved into focus. How foolish she felt.

"I'm sorry. I'm alright now." And to prove it to herself she stood, swaying only a little as she put her weight on the high heels.

She felt ScottÕs strong arm around her waist. "Steady, miss."

"No really, I'm all right." And just to prove it to herself, she put her arms around Scott's neck and pulled his mouth down to hers. Oh, those lips, how she had missed them over Christmas. She drew back with a confident smile. "See?" And so as not to leave Rory out of the demonstration, she also kissed him.

"Okay," he laughed when she had released him. "We believe you."

"Now give us a proper kiss," demanded Scott.

He grabbed her in a strong embrace and planted his mouth on hers. She could hardly breathe. His tongue came between her lips and found her own. She loved the wetness and firmness of it. His erection -- how had it become so hard so quickly? -- pressed against her belly, causing her to feel weak at the knees. And was that Rory kissing the nape of her neck? A shiver went all the way down her spine. How did he know that was one of her most sensitive spots? She could feel his hands on her waist. Both boys were holding her. She couldn't escape now, even had she wanted to. Rory pressed into her from behind. She could feel his hard cock pressing against her bottom. Oh Lord. She was in a meat sandwich, she thought idiotically to herself. Then Rory's hands moved up to cup her breasts. No, that was too far. She twisted in their grip, but succeeded only in rubbing their stiff cocks from side to side, which they quite reasonably took to be a sign of encouragement. Scott thrust his tongue further into her mouth as Rory found her swelling nipples through her top and brassiere. They seemed to leap with joy at his touch. No, don't, she silently ordered them, please don't. But they wouldn't obey her. It was impossible. It felt lovely, but it was impossible. Any more and she would be helpless.

"No, stop." She finally tore her mouth away from ScottÕs. "Stop now."

With a confident smile and a last quick kiss Scott released her. Rory's hands dropped from her breasts. She stepped away quickly.

"A kiss under the mistletoe was all right," she said, aware that she sounded like a pompous prig. "But that was going too far."

"It's your fault," said Scott, still wearing that confident smile. "We told you, youÕre amazing. We can't help ourselves."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Natalie. "Behave yourselves from now on and we'll say no more about it."

"Or what?" Rory's question wasn't rhetorical -- it sounded genuine.

"Or I shall have to go to the Dean. And you know what will happen then."

"But you don't want to go to the Dean, do you?"

"Of course I don't, but..."

"Then don't. After all, you do like us kissing you, don't you?"

"Yes, but..."

"Then why spoil things?" contributed Scott. "Besides, you're the one wearing a short skirt, plunging neckline and high heels. The Dean might see that as encouragement."

Natalie was silenced. A chill ran through her. It was true, in part she had encouraged the boys, and the Dean would no doubt see that all too clearly. Oh god, what had she got herself into?

"Don't worry, Miss," said Rory quickly. "We really like you. You're fantastic and beautiful and sexy and we don't want to get you into any trouble. Nothing is going to happen to you."

"If you don't want it to," added Scott with that confident, maddeningly handsome smile.

"All right then," said Natalie, not at all sure what ScottÕs last remark meant but aware that she had somehow put herself in their power. She was also still reeling a little from being described as beautiful and sexy. Was she, really?

"YouÕre lovely," said Rory as if reading her mind, embracing her and giving her another kiss.

She allowed herself to be held then passed to Scott for yet another, but not before Rory had calmly given her breast a firm squeeze. ÒNo,Ó she muttered, but then she was in ScottÕs arms, his mouth on hers, his cock pressed lightly against her. It was making her breathless again. Before she knew what was happening, his hand was under the hem of her skirt and cupping her pussy. Oh God. For a brief moment she pressed herself against it, then tore herself away. ÒNo! Stop! Now.Ó

"Rory's right," said Scott, not at all fazed. "You are lovely. Don't believe anything different. And next week," he added, as they sauntered towards the door, "don't wear any knickers or tights. Or else."

And with final Ð suddenly sinister Ð smiles they were gone.

Natalie spent the next few days in turmoil. How had she allowed herself to get sucked into this? If she didn't put a stop to it immediately, she would be at their mercy. Yet was the solution simply to report them to the Dean? How could she explain what had happened so far and still appear an innocent party? She didn't feel particularly innocent and she suspected that the Dean would agree. There seemed no way out.

That Friday, when she was out with the girls, she tried confiding in Claire, the friend who had described Scott and Rory as young George Clooneys.

"Those two boys," she started, when they were at the bar getting drinks, "you know, the ones you said were quite good looking..."

"Scott and Rory," said Claire, giving her a look which said she knew damn well Natalie knew their names. "What about them?"

"Just before Christmas they kissed me under some mistletoe they brought in."

"God, what did you do?" Claire looked at her friend with undisguised envy. "Did you rip their clothes off and shag them senseless?"

"Of course I didn't."

"Pity. I would have."

"No, you wouldn't."

"No, I suppose I wouldn't," admitted Claire sadly. "All those sickeningly perfect girls to choose from -- they would probably have run screaming from the room at the sight of my sagging tits. If theyÕre still around next Christmas, give me a call, will you?"

So much for advice, thought Natalie. Now what was she to do?

"Actually, if you want to take a look at their gorgeous young bodies," suggested Claire, "they're swimming in some inter-university competition on Sunday. Do you fancy going along, you know, support the team, up the college, ra-ra, scream ourselves sick like silly little schoolgirls?" Having Natalie with her wouldn't make her own presence look so pathetic.

"All right," said Natalie. What could be the harm in that?

The stands at the pool were dismayingly empty. The fixture wasn't very important, neither was swimming a particularly popular spectator sport at the University. Natalie's nerve faltered when she saw the rows of vacant benches.

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