Natasha's Turn

I shouldn't have agreed. And when she told me I'd have to clean off all my makeup, I was ready to stage a full blown revolt. For some reason the thought of "losing" Natasha was just too much to bear. But I relented when she explained that she just wanted me to take another shower and then shave again to get rid of what little stubble I'd acquired since the morning. She also promised faithfully that she'd restore my look, fuchsia lipstick and all.

Showering again gave me an opportunity to use Alina's soap and shampoo rather than my own, producing what she pronounced to be a much more appropriate set of scents. She was as good as her word too in reproducing her earlier efforts with the makeup - although it took her a lot longer, partly due to my insistence that she explain everything she was doing, but mostly because the amount she'd drunk made it hard to keep her lines straight and several parts had to be repeated. All the giggling didn't help either.

Eventually, it was done, though only after a thrilling last-minute addition, with my fingernails brightly painted to match the colour on my lips.

Dressing was a lot quicker, because Alina had already figured out what I should wear - and by now I had stopped even trying to argue. I got to keep my pink panties, but paired this time with a black crop top, over which I wore a very sexy looking mesh top. Underneath that I wore a short red tartan skirt that was intended, according to my sister, to show off my "gorgeous legs." I wasn't so sure about that description, but I certainly enjoyed having them encased in black tights. The woollen stockings had felt good, but the feel of nylon was something else again. The outfit was completed by black ankle boots with manageable heels - and I gave thanks again for having grown to more or less the same size as my sister. I'd have hated to have to go looking in my mother's closet instead.

With the addition of a purse, some bangles for my wrists and a spray or two of Alina's favourite perfume, we were ready to go. My heart started pounding as Alina opened the door and led me out into the cool night air. At my request she'd left the porch light off and when the car arrived to pick us up I scuttled as quickly as the unfamiliar boots would allow me round to the far side of the car, then slid over to sit behind the driver so he couldn't see me too readily.

In terms of our destination, Alina delivered on two of her promises. It was well away from our usual haunts, and it was certainly dark, both outside and in. But quiet it wasn't. The music inside was deafening and it was crowded as well. I nearly panicked when I saw how many people there were. But Alina had got me this far and she wasn't going to let me bolt now. Besides, I didn't even know where I was, and had no way of looking. I had failed to retrieve my phone and put it in the purse, which was devoted instead to more essential items, like lipstick, tissues and a hairbrush.

After a pep talk from my sister, she disappeared to the bar to get drinks while I propped against a pole and tried not to let my anxieties show. And as I stood there, I slowly realised that the only looks being directed my way were admiring or at worst appraising, not reproachful.

By the time Alina got back with two very large vodka and lemons, I was starting to relax. And when I dutifully swallowed the little tablet she also pressed into my hand, and started to feel its effects, I chilled even further.

Alina had been looking around, as if searching for someone. After a few moments, she nudged me and gestured towards a group in a booth off to one side of the club. "Hey," she yelled into my ear over the din, "they look your type, right? Want to go and see if we can hook up?"

They certainly were my type - though to be fair, they'd probably be anyone's type. Tall, athletic looking, with clothes that showed off their tanned bodies, I could easily imagine them on a catwalk. My first thought was that they were out of my league. I certainly couldn't imagine them sparing any time for Andrei, even with all his confidence. And I'd have to be crazy to think that Natasha could do any better. But even as I thought that, the cutest of them, a tall blonde, seemed to flash me a smile.

"C'mon," said Alina, "let's go try our luck. But the redhead is mine, you got that?" I shot her an astonished glance, but she was already pushing through the crowd to get to the booth. I saw her strike up a conversation with its occupants, as I hung back uncertainly. At one point she gestured towards me and they all seemed to exchange amused glances. But when Alina beckoned me over I went all the same.

As she joined the redhead on one side, two members of the group on the other stood up to let me in, then squeezed in around me. There were shouted introductions, though I caught none of the names. Drinks appeared, as if by magic, and we clinked glasses and toasted one another.

And at that point... everything became very fuzzy. Thinking back on it later, I could remember only flashes. I don't think I said much, but I do recall laughing a lot - or giggling, to be more accurate. What caused all the mirth I couldn't say, but my companions evidently proved to be as funny as they were good-looking. There were more drinks, and also trips to the dance floor, I think with everyone at one point or another. But it was the blonde one I was most keen on partnering and whom I can recall staring at with barely concealed longing.

Later, we must have left the club, because we were back at somebody's house. Alina and her new red-haired friend had disappeared. But it didn't matter, because the drinks kept flowing and there was still music playing, though no longer as loud. I think I was more talkative at this stage, though I have no clue about what. Eventually though joints were passed round, the lights were dimmed and everything became a lot more mellow. I think someone was sitting on my lap, or maybe I was on theirs.

After a while there was kissing too, quite a lot of it, and I remembered being struck by the taste of lipstick and wondering whose it was. I was unhappy at one point, because it was really just the blonde that I wanted to be kissing. But then I was, so it was okay after all.

There were hands too, stroking my nylon-clad legs - and didn't that feel good? I can remember the hands sliding up under my skirt, until I grabbed them and pushed them down between my legs because I wanted them to feel me and stroke me. And my own hands were busy as well, probing and stroking until I heard the moans that echoed my own.

None of this was in a coherent sequence, it was just a collection of sounds, and tastes and feelings. Until suddenly, it was as if I had woken up, or the lights had come back on, as reality returned in a rush. And I found myself kneeling in a dimly lit room, two hands up in front of me, holding the engorged, throbbing flesh that I was about to feed into my mouth.

My gaze travelled up, past the taut stomach and the powerful chest, until I locked eyes with the handsome blonde boy. He gave me a look that was filled with lust and need. "Suck it Natasha," he ordered. "Take it all."

"That's right Natasha," said a voice by my ear. "It's your turn. And it's going to be your turn again quite a lot from now on. You understand?"

I swivelled my head to see a beautiful brunette, holding up a phone. I wanted to scream, as I realised who she was and what she'd done to me, even if I had no idea how.

But all I said in response was a quiet, submissive "Yes Arabella." Then with a sob I turned back to the huge cock in front of me, opened my bright pink lips and closed them around the quivering flesh.

As my mouth and throat filled with the blonde boy's manhood, I could sense his friends around me stripping off their clothes. By the time one of them started pulling down my panties, the first load of hot, sticky cum was already raining down on my painted face...