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With me just barging in on their trip, I figured she’d come looking for her daughter sooner or later.
I don’t want Natasha out of my sight for a moment. I can’t fathom how anyone could let Natasha go off on her own to college for years.
I have trouble letting her go for even a few minutes before dinner and I’m relieved once I’ve changed before heading to the dining car.
Finally getting to see her again, which will never be soon enough for me.
Everything just seems better once I spot Natasha. They all look the same as they did when I marched up to kiss her, and yet they all seem so different.
It’s like I’m seeing the world with fresh eyes, with new life in my veins, especially once my eyes settle on Natasha.
She, her mom, and her friend Suzanna have already been seated, with the slightly salty looking steward I barked at earlier looking like he’s the waiter for the night as well.
The dining car is virtually empty, with the few people I do see surprising me that the train’s even this full.
Retirees mostly by the looks. But I don’t pay any attention to them.
It’s Natasha that has me, right from the moment I enter the dining car.
She’s changed into clothes that show her shape better.
Good girl.
I can see more of her chest and neck. The rest of her is already detailed in my mind, my hands running over every inch of her, slowly but firmly.
I like to have something to stimulate my appetite before a meal, but food is somehow the last thing on my mind as I take my seat opposite Natasha.
I enjoy having her in front of me so I can see her better.
I’m grateful for the tablecloth too, which hides my instant and raging hard on the moment I sit down.
Natasha’s friend, Suzanna is the first to say something, her eyes burning into mine with unusual intensity.
Not the friendly kind either.
Not like Natasha’s kind eyes, I shift my eyes to meet hers instead of holding her friend’s huffy ones.
“I thought we’d never see Natasha again,” Suzanna exclaims. “Thought you’d decided to keep her for good,” she adds, meaning something horrible by the way she says it.
“I think I might,” I reply truthfully, keeping my eyes fixed on Natasha, who blushes a deep red, hiding her shy smile behind a menu.
The effect her friend was going for having missed the mark.
I do intend to keep Natasha, all to myself. From today onward.
From this moment onward.
Natasha stays quiet, pretending to be absorbed in the menu, which I notice with a smile she’s actually holding upside-down.
Her mother is quick to make pleasant conversation.
“It’s so nice of you to have us for dinner,” Renee says. Pointing out the cheapest thing on the menu, recommending the girls get the same.
It’s a first class table, but the food all comes from the same kitchen. The prices are pennies really.
“Now, now.” I caution Renee jovially, wagging my finger. “I know what you’re doing and I won’t have it. I want you all to order whatever you want to eat and drink. It’s on me,” I say again, making sure to shoot Suzanna a cheesy grin.
“I know what I’m having,” I announce, widening my eyes as I look Natasha over again. Unable to focus on anything except her.
With her crystal clear eyes, and long dark hair I can just tell she spent the most time on sits just right on her shoulders.
Those breasts though. Her thick, pebbled nipples poking through the fabric of her shirt.
The full, smooth globes I can already see our children feeding from.
The same breasts in mouth and hands as we make those children together.
I can see how much I was spoiled having her all to myself this afternoon, already wishing I’d done a hell of a lot more than just kiss her.
Our food arrives, after Suzanna orders as much ‘expensive’ food as she can, trying to hurt me financially.
Impossible.
Natasha’s mom scolds her quietly, but once we’re eating there’s not a lot to talk about. Renee makes attempts at small talk, asking what it is I do and where I’m from.
I can only give vague and obscure answers, and after a time it’s clear to everyone at the table I have no interest in talking about myself.
Everything and anything I have to say to Natasha isn’t exactly polite dinner table conversation either, and not for her mother or best friend’s ears.
Natasha picks at her food, and although I eat everything in front of me, I can’t taste a thing.
All I’m hungry for is sitting right across from me.
We all endure sitting through a forced dessert, which Suzanna insists on.
She looks a little green from eating so much, but I encourage her to have a double helping of the most expensive things they have.
