tagRomanceWilmington Woman's Club Ch. 29

Wilmington Woman's Club Ch. 29

byParis Waterman©

September 11, 1984 – Natalie

It's funny how some chapters of your life start so unexpectedly and without your realizing that they've started until you take a look back and clearly see their beginning point.

Natalie sat alone with the radio softly playing in the background of her small apartment. What did I ever do to deserve this? Natalie thought bitterly. She had struggled in college, working her butt off to get the same grades her peers had found so easy to achieve. While she had not been blessed with the brains in her family, she had been blessed with the looks. Yet after Fess, her first and only lover during her freshman year in college, she had not dated another man. True, she had turned a few callers down early on, and then no one had bothered with her, even the girls. She had gone through college a social outcast for the most part, struggling to keep her grades high, but at least accomplishing that small thing.

Vaguely, she heard the radio announcer relating the stunning news of an aircraft having crashing into the Atlantic Ocean off the coast of Wilmington, North Carolina.

Natalie ran to the television and turned it on in time to see a picture of her father as the announcer stated that: "James Brown was piloting several prominent local businessmen to a conference in the Florida Keys, but called in that he was experiencing engine problems moments before he crashed into the Atlantic."

"My God!" Natalie gasped, as she stared at the screen, and then slowly sank to the floor in disbelief. Seconds later, reality hit home and she realized exactly what had happened. She began to sob, they cry as she curled up in a fetus-like position where she remained until her roommate came in and found her an hour later.

As she was helped to her feet and led to a chair and sat down, Natalie wrenched her mind from the dizzying, terrifying news and said, "My mother ... I've got to call my mother!" a series of frantic phone calls to those she held close followed. Her roommate drove her to her mothers where for the first time since hearing the dreadful news Natalie felt a small iota of comfort in her mother's arms.

The following week flew past. Her father's wake; his funeral and the parade of friends and relatives offering consolation. And then, suddenly she was sitting at home, alone on a Saturday night, waiting for a phone call that might never come; thinking about the man she was ready to once more risk her heart for, despite the disappointment that Fess and that bastard Gavin had brought her. And so there was a pain whenever she allowed herself to care about a man. She dreamed that maybe this time things would be different. The romantic part of her still wanted to believe. She clung to that. What else could she do?


Two days before the plane crash, Valerie Marcolina, who was making use of a law firm to put her and her husbands personal effects in proper legal order, had become friendly with Natalie as a result of their interaction there. She had seen Natalie standing off by herself in the corner at a social function held by the law firm she worked for; and, after waving to her, headed over to talk, dragging her cousin, Porter in her wake.

"Natalie... What on earth are you doing hiding over here? You are being absolutely anti-social."

"Sorry, Valerie, but I feel kinda out of place with all the couples here. I... um, don't have a date, and, um...."

"Tell me about it," Val responded, taking a swallow from the vodka gimlet in her hand. "Why is a good man so hard to find? Just look at me - I'm stuck with my cousin, Porter here," she said, gesturing to the man beside her.

"Then you're monopolizing all the men around," Natalie laughed, referring to the fact that Val was married to Joe Marcolina, who had been one of the more eligible bachelors in Wilmington, before meeting Valerie.

Val gave her a knowing smile and responded, saying, "Maybe I could lend him to you. He's not much, but he might do in a pinch."

"Thank you for your enthusiastic endorsement, Val," Porter said with a laugh. "Instead of offering me such halfhearted praise, why don't you introduce me to this lovely lady?"

"Oh, sorry. Porter, this is Natalie Reynolds, just about the best thing to happen to this stodgy old law firm in a hundred years."

Natalie glanced around to see if anyone had overheard Valerie's remarks. It appeared that no one had. Valerie might have been indiscreet, but fortunately she had not been loud. Still, Natalie was embarrassed by her comment.

Porter used this as an opportunity to examine Natalie's body and found her form slim, especially in contrast to the other, more matronly women standing around talking incessantly. Small boobs, he thought, but damn, she has a sensational ass, maybe nicer than Val's, which he had coveted since they had gone swimming eight years earlier.

"Oh, see? Look, Natalie, he's checking out your backside!" Val exclaimed, and then took a gulp of her drink, already feeling guilty for deliberately putting her cousin in this position.

"I am not, and I beg your pardon, Natalie. Valerie is just being her usual big pain-in-the-ass naughty self."

"Well!" Natalie replied, hoping her voice reflected mock indignation rather than an irritated resonance, "I doubt he was ... staring."

"He was," Val said, matter-of-factly.

"I wasn't," Porter said quickly, but the flush of his cheeks had intensified, and both women knew he was lying.

"But men look... they all look," Val said, trying to alleviate the situation which was in danger of becoming a farce.

"And we women love that they do. Porter," Natalie said, "I want you to know that whether you were staring, or just glancing, I'm flattered, and appreciate your consideration either way."

Val feigned disinterest in the others, but was secretly pleased that the two were getting along, and said, "Oh, I must go. Joe is looking around and doesn't see me. It's time to hold his arm and smile at somebody important to his work."

"Bye, Val," Porter said, pleased that she was leaving him alone with Natalie. "Natalie and I will manage just fine by ourselves."

A sly smirk crossed Valerie's face. "Are you trying to tell me something, Porter?"

"Yes, we can carry on a civilized conversation without your help. Do go and help, Joe, Val. He needs you more than I do. But thanks for the introduction."

They had got on well after Val left, and he remained at her side until Joe Marcolina collected him at the end of the evening. Porter had promised to call Natalie before the weekend to set some sort of date. She had hoped he would kiss her, but he hadn't.


Natalie was running a bath when the phone started ringing. Pulling her robe tightly around herself, she entered her small bedroom and picked up the receiver.


A male voice responded, "Hi. Is Natalie Reynolds there?"

Natalie knew exactly who was on the other end of the line, and her heart began to race.

"Hello, Porter, how are you?"

There was a slight hesitation. "Ah... look, I've been meaning to call you, but I thought you'd be busy. Err, um, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if you might possibly be free tonight. I mean, I, um, understand if you already have something going...."

Although tempted to let him hang there for a while, she decided to play it straight and not act coy. Smiling to herself, Natalie put as much warmth into her voice as she thought possible, and said, "I don't have any plans I can't break... that is, if you have plans for the evening."

"You're free?"

Natalie laughed, and replied, "No, I'm not free. But I am available for dinner and drinks."

The relief in his voice was discernable to her, and she felt a thrill race through her. My knight, my shining knight, she thought, as she hung up after establishing a time for him to come by for her.


"Would you hold me, Porter?"

"Sure I will," he said on this, their third date.

Natalie twisted her body to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Porter took her in his arms and hugged her against him, smelling the sweet, feminine fragrance of her closeness, and marveling at the frailness of her small, warm body.

She buried her face into his shoulder, and he stiffened when she started to sob.


"I'm sorry, Porter..."

"What on earth are you sorry about?'

"I know... I know you've expected me to put out for you, but I...."

Porter was stunned by her words. It took him several seconds to formulate any form of response. And when he did, it wasn't the best one available.

"I don't expect you to put out," he said soberly, but in reality his hopes of getting laid had soared at her words, but he was confused all the same. What girl apologizes for not spreading her legs?

"I'm just a tease," Natalie said, and then began to tell him that she hadn't been with a man in such a long time that she'd forgotten how things went.

"There, there," he said, wondering if in fact, he was going to get laid. He began rubbing the small of her back, murmuring, "Its okay, Natalie, you'll be okay, you'll see."

But she just kept sobbing, clutching and squeezing his shoulders as she abandoned herself to her imaginary sorrow.

Continuing to hold her, and rub her back, Porter decided to work his hands up the back of her tight-fitting sweater in order to feel and comfort her more directly. He managed his way without protest and began to caress the bumps along Natalie's spine, until he heard her sigh. That soft sound galvanized him to accelerate his movements and in short order he was undoing the clasp of her bra.

Natalie stopped crying when she realized that he was caressing her, and how wonderful the touch of his hands felt on her back. She moaned in anticipation, when he let his hand roam up and down over the sexy contours of her right side, from just under her armpit to where her hips widened out as she sat on the couch.

Porter had been raised with four sisters, and so he had a sense of how a troubled woman wanted to be treated. He placed a few gentle kisses against her exposed ear and cheek, and then progressed to the side of her neck. At about the same time he let both hands wander around the compact sexiness of her warm, little body causing little moans to escape her lips.

When he found the sides of both of her small, soft breasts, out and free of the confines of her open bra, Natalie went silent and became still. Porter took hold of both firm, little breasts and squeezed them.

"Ugh!" she grunted. It was a sound of pleasure, and he slowly dragged the palms of each hand over her nipples, feeling them grow under his touch.

"Nice, isn't it?" he said, placing another series of kisses on her earlobe and neck.

"Ohhhh, yes!" she replied wetly.

"And this?" Taking each pinky-sized nipple between his thumbs and forefingers and gently pinched and rolled them.

"Ohhhh, that's lovely!"

He continued to torment her nipples but also pressed her breasts flat against her chest. He heard her breath catch in her throat for a second then she took a sharp breath.

"I want you, Natalie," she heard him say from a distance, or so it seemed.

When he kissed her, still teasing those turgid nipples, she found her mouth opening and welcomed his tongue with her own. It was her first soul kiss. It was something she realized she had desperately craved.

"That's better," Porter said.

"Umm, isn't it?" she replied.

"You taste like candy," he told her, and she melted away in his arms.

"Mmmm, thank you," she moaned.

"Oh, no, thank you, for letting me play with these," and he resumed clasping and squeezing her firm, little breasts as she began to pant with excitement.

Moments later she was tearing into the buttons on his shirt, filled with an urgent need to rub her hands on his bare chest and to play with his nipples as he was with hers. Porter, sensing that Natalie was ready to go a lot further, abandoned her breasts and helped her with his shirt and then his slacks.

They renewed their kissing, this time with his large, hairy chest and her smallish breasts mashed together. Gradually their lust took charge, and with his mouth firmly pressed against hers, Porter eased her back onto the bed and meeting no resistance unfastened and then unzipped her jeans while she helped by wriggling her rear as he took them completely off of her.

He peeled off his shorts and let her wide eyes take in his pulsing cock, before reaching and hooking his thumbs in the waist her panties. Natalie raised her hips and they quickly disappeared under a chair next to the bed.

Natalie remembered every little thing he did, would play it back over and over again in her mind in the days that followed. It seemed he did everything so excruciatingly slowly. He moved her hair from her neck, and then his soft lips were at the nape of her neck. Her body was a tingle. Oh, how his lips felt as they kissed along her spine! And the heat between my legs...it had to be a swamp of fetid wetness and heat.

She didn't remember leaping off the precipice, but knew she was in the air falling toward him. She'd surrendered the second he whispered, "I want you to keep your eyes closed."

Obediently, she'd closed her eyes and waited for ecstasy.

His hands... his lovely tender, knowing hands, had traversed the plains between her legs, sliding on the lubricant her desire had excreted. She was ready, so very ready, yet he caressed her further. A loud groan escaped her lips as his lips traced the tendon down the back of her leg.

"Oh, God, YES!" she whimpered, as his finger sank into her and plumbed the depths of her cunt. And when his thumb found her clit she exploded.

He entered her before her orgasm ended, prolonging it by forcing her legs back against her chest and pounding into her so hard she felt it carnally refreshing. This is marvelous, she thought during a brief moment of clarity, it's beyond my wildest fantasy.

Natalie came until she was too tired to raise her head.

Porter hadn't cum when he pulled out of her. His strong hands moved her to several positions before he decided on one he liked. He presented his cock to her lips, rubbing it over them until she opened her mouth and accepted him inside. Then, like a child on its mother's breast, she sucked him as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

It was only a few short minutes that passed before Natalie felt the coldness on her smoldering body. Startled, she began squirming to get away from the sudden discomfort. Porter's hand was tangled in her hair and snagged several hairs at her struggling. She stopped and realized his cock was in her mouth. She tasted herself on him, and marveled at how it could be. Then she squealed in shock and delight as he ran the ice cube down her spine while he laughed gleefully.

Natalie twisted away, as he took his hand from her hair, and looked at him. At that moment he was as handsome a man as she had ever laid eyes on.

"Back among the living?" he asked with a sweet softness in his voice. Natalie blushed and smiled back at him.

"Want some juice?"

"I feel wonderful," she purred, accepting the glass of juice and a chocolate covered donut.

"You are wonderful," he replied, as she sipped from the juice glass. His eyes deliberately traversed her body. Biting into the donut, she felt them caressing her like tiny fingers and shivered with delight.

Several minutes later, juice and donuts finished, Porter kissed her and guided her to the position he wanted. Natalie giggled as she knelt on all fours. He spread her legs wantonly, but not to his satisfaction. He spread her wider. It hurt, but she made no protest. His hand went between her legs and she groaned. After a lifetime of small, infrequent and inconsequential orgasms, I've experienced the most fantastic ones only minutes ago. How could it be?

His hands traced her tendons. They slipped over her skin which was again slick with sweat. She felt his fingers at the back of her left knee, gently stroking.

"Are you going too...?"

He made no reply other than leisurely caressing her leg, then sliding a hand over her ass. One finger traced down the crack until it rested on the opening. Natalie felt it quiver as he tested it and withdrew.

"Natalie, I want you to talk when I touch you; when I fuck you."

"Okay," she said meekly, wondering what he wanted her to say.

As if reading her mind, Porter said, "I want you to talk freely about your feelings."

"Oh... okay, Porter."

Rewarding her for complying with his wishes, he gently stroked her face. And, like a kitten, Natalie pushed her head against his hand.

"Where do you want me to touch you?" he asked.

"Between my legs, please."

"That's your pussy. Say it. Say 'pussy'."

"My pussy. Please touch my pussy." He complied, eliciting an excited response from her. "Oh! Oh! Yes. Like that. No. Don't stop. Please."

"Are you my hot, wanton woman?"

"Oh, yes! I'm your hot, willing woman. Please keep touching me."

Porter had his palm pressed against her cunt, gently rubbing, and then idly slipped a finger inside her. He kissed her, not a controlling, demanding kiss, it was soft and gentle.

She looked up into his eyes, took a deep breath and whispered, "Fuck me. Fuck me until I pass out!"

Realizing what she had just said, Natalie turned beet red, and goose bumps popped out all over her. Her shyness and modesty had always prevented her from using dirty words like fuck. But those words weren't dirty now. They were good words, words which expressed how she truly felt about this man holding her in his arms.

"Get on all fours again, Nat."

As she took the position he wanted, Natalie began to shake in eager anticipation of what they were doing; of his command over her; of her own willing surrender. Wetness again oozed from between her legs. Sweat formed on her skin.

"Talk to me," he said. His voice was soft but firm. Very firm. "Tell me where my hands are, what they're doing to you, how you feel."

"Yes, okay...." He stopped touching her, waiting for her to speak. "No, please, Porter... please don't stop!"

"Talk to me."

"Oh, um... stroke my breasts?"


"Um, squeeze them. Pull my nipples... like that."

He did, then asked, "You like that?"

"Oh, YES! I love it when you... pull them, squeeze them it goes right to my...."

"To your what?"

"Um, my pussy. Oh, I can't believe I'm talking like this."

"Be still."

"I can't be still. Your fingers...."

"What about my fingers?"

"They... they're tormenting my poor nipples."

"Shall I stop?"

"Good lord, no!"

His hand went between her legs.

"OH, GOD!"

"Is this torture?"


"Stop what? Tell me."

"Ugh! My... my pussy. Stroke my pussy. And my breasts. Pull my nipples! OH YES!."

"You like that?"

"Yes. Oh, yes."

"And this? Do you want me there?"

"Yes. There too. I want you everywhere."

"Do you like this, Nat?"


"Talk. Tell me what you like."

"I like you touching me, your hands caressing my body. All of my body. I like you commanding me, taking me, owning me. Please, Porter, don't ever stop."

"Stop what?"

"Pull them. Pull my pussy hairs. It sends shocks through me. Oh, God, Porter, Fuck me! Enough foreplay! I need to be fucked!"

In a flash, Natalie spun like a tigress, knocking him on his back. He looked startled as she straddled him with a growl, grabbed his cock and held it where she wanted it.

"Now! Like this!" she snapped, and slammed her hips downward, burying him in her.

An orgasm started in her curling toes. She threw back her head and laughed. She heard him grunt as she rose up. His cock came out of her, leaving her orgasm unfulfilled.

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