Professional Mishaps

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Natasha watched you with hungry eyes through the screen of your high tech video camera as she set it up on the tripod and angled it properly for the scene

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Natasha watched you with hungry eyes through the screen of your high tech video camera as she set it up on the tripod and angled it properly for the scene.

After six months of streaming and recording only fans content you'd finally agreed to give her strap head. It'd always been a fantasy she begged for and you secretly craved as well—but you would never tell her that.

Making her wait for things always seemed to yield the greatest results; something about the chase just makes the redhead perform better. You know for certain that making her wait until six months in to have sex was the greatest thing you ever did for your relationship.

The way you fell apart for her that night was all she needed to know you were her final partner. Nobody else would ever compare to you and your innocence and you felt the same way about her subtle deviance.

A match made in heaven you two were, both a perfect compliment to the other's weaknesses. In moments like these Natasha usually always led and you followed.

You were just as excited when you told her yes late last night, it was worth it alone for the smile but then the way she hugged you even tighter made you want it almost as badly, as if the fantasy was yours before hers.

There was also the case to be made that you were just as nervous as you were excited. Eating her out was never a hard feat for you, somedays, when she was dripping and open you'd get lost down in her oasis. Never though had you taken a strap in this lewd of a manner, and your lover picked up on that in an instant.

"Detka, come here," she called as she entered the frame with an elegance to her stride that reminded you of your disparity when it came to experience. Strong arms wrapped around your torso, and firmly pulled you into Natasha's warm embrace and your lips soon mirrored the sentiment as you both naturally leaned forward.

A sigh left your lips and she deepened the intimacy, her tongue swirled devilishly around yours, causing an unconscious reaction as your thighs rubbed together.

The kiss naturally picked up in intensity, both of you knowing you much preferred direct action over talking. If she called out your nerves you'd likely spiral and the bills would go unpaid since it'd been months since you posted for your loyal fans due to day jobs and trips.

As the speed of your breathing picked up the redhead softly and privately reassured you with a firm squeeze to your hips without breaking character. Arousal held you captive, primarily, but the anxiety always lingered.

Natasha was always inherently good at keeping you feeling calm and safe... Or at least she usually was.

The moment had grown more intense as her hands and lips roamed, you moaned as she groped your breasts. "Desperate slut," she growled against the tender skin of your marked up jaw before she abruptly shoved you down onto your knees for your more kinky subscribers.

"Open up," she demanded, the tip of her flesh toned strap slapped against your cheek and under normal circumstances you'd find this aggression hot but your girlfriend severely underestimated her strength here.

Natasha's eyes widened as she watched fate work against her, it was almost comical how the woman's face contorted into one of horror and remorse. Your body lurched forward against your protests and in a painful occurrence the silicone scratched your cornea.

"Oh for the love of fuck," you screeched as you fell the rest of the way forward, eyes watering as you squinted the injured one and leaned against your lovers thigh.

Natasha's usual night in shining armor reaction,
however, was delayed by her unwavering shock, "Oh my, we need to go to the urgent care, come on—up!" Her usually confident hands shakily reached down to pull you up off the floor and straight into her arms, bridal style. Without any thought the woman began to run downstairs, but just as she flung the door open the breeze reminded her of your mostly unclothed states.

The woman thanked the powers that be for you being distracted because you would likely have yelled at the remote idea that your neighbors saw you both in your lingerie, with a strap dangling between muscular legs.

You whimpered at the chill and she was back inside.

The redhead truly felt terrible as she set your crying form onto the couch, her lips gently pressed to your forehead as she whispered, "I'll be right back detka, don't go anywhere." If you could do so without pain you would've rolled your eyes at your lovable idiot.

In a whiplash of limbs you were dressed and swiftly on the way to the urgent care. The drive was silent, guilt and remorse, by the way of her hand on your thigh, were heavily intermixed in the air. Natasha was overly gentle now, pulling you from the car like you were as fragile as a porcelain doll. You, as to be expected, let Natasha explain to the front desk what happened...

Three hours later you found yourself in an exam bed, an ugly gown on for no reason whatsoever seeing as how you only injured your eye but the nurse was adamant that you wear it. Natasha might as well have left you in your lingerie over your comfy sweatsuit.

The doctor had already seen you, but she allowed you to rest in the bed while they waited for your anti fungal eye drops to be sent to your local pharmacy. It was a slow night and would be a waste for you to drive home just to leave to get the eye drops in an hour anyways.

So, in the forced downtime you decided best not to strain your good eye. Natasha consequently thought you'd fallen asleep since you were also breathing much softer, and your other eye was covered by gauze.

With nothing better to do Natasha slyly opened her phone and slid her AirPod Max's over her head and, for research purposes only of course, she watched the encounter from earlier unfold on her tiny screen.

In the unusual silence you didn't find comfort, as Nat is usually a chatterbox in moments like these so you tiredly opened your eye to catch sight of her smirking. You didn't need the IQ of a rocket scientist to know what was likely illuminating her face in the dark room.

"Oi!" Natasha shrieked as a pillow knocked her phone out of her hand with precise aim. "Delete it Natalia."

"Don't be such a killjoy Y/N/N," she teased while making her way over to your side, her hand slid into yours with a familiarity that comforted you to the point of weakness as your angry facade faded into a pout. "Now come on, my detka isn't usually a poor sport."

"Your detka doesn't usually have a corneal abrasion," you huffed, the anger easily returned, "I mean come on Natty, how in the hell do you plan to explain this?!"

"I plan on keeping you indoors," she shrugged and you chuckled tauntingly, "Your family flies in tomorrow."

The look of terror on her face made you smile, it was almost the perfect revenge, but you also felt bad. So, you scooted over and patted the spot next to you. The redhead wasted no time crawling into the bed and cuddling into your warm embrace. "I'm sorry detka."

"It's okay love," you whispered, "It's a funny story..."

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