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From: Altan <altan1@bigfoot.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Natasha (MF exhib first)
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Date: Tue, 19 Oct 2004 06:10:02 -0400
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-------- ASSTR Standard Headers --------
Author: Altan
Title: Natasha
Keywords: MF exhib first
Date: October 2004
-------- End of Standard Headers --------


This story is a work of erotic fiction. If you are not allowed to
read such material, or if such material offends you, please stop
reading now.

This story is copyrighted (C) October 2004 by Altan. Permission
is granted for this story to be reproduced and archived in the
context of the newsgroup(s) to which it is posted by the author.
In addition, the reader is allowed to make copies in electronic
format and on paper for his or her personal use only. For all
other uses, please consult the copyright statement in
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/altan/www/copyright.html.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

Natasha (MF exhib first)
by Altan

We had been hiking all day, my father and I, and after dinner sat
on the porch of the log cabin we had rented for the week, when he
sprang the surprise on me.

"I suppose it is time to tell you something, son," he started.
"About who you are, where you came from. About your mother."

I was stunned. My mother had died in an accident when I was a
baby, or so I had always been told. My father had raised me and,
having reached twenty-five in reasonably well shape, I had
started to figure out he had done a pretty decent job of it.

He held up his hand when I wanted to ask a question. "Let me tell
my story first," he said, "and then you can ask. I've known this
moment would come for years, and to be honest, I've been dreading
it. It is not an easy story to tell, but I think it is only fair
you learn the truth, the whole truth, from my mouth. You'll find
out bits and pieces eventually, and this way, at least I know you
will understand it all.

"You see, your mother didn't die in an accident. In fact, she
didn't die at all, and for all I know, she might still be alive.
But on the other hand, the woman I loved and knew, she is gone
forever.

"It all started when I was about your age. Twenty-five, out of
college, and clueless..."

                               * * *

It was a balmy August evening and I was rushing to the
convenience store. A science fiction movie was coming up on TV
and I had to stock up on snacks. I wasn't paying attention and in
the store's parking lot ran into another car.

My heart jumped in my throat. I was just getting my good driver
discount on my car insurance, and I needed the break. This was
going to send my rate soaring again.

I got out of my car, and so did the young woman driving the truck
I had hit. I checked my car, which seemed to have a bit of a dent
in the front bumper. The damage looked much worse on her car,
where there was a long scratch along the side.

When I looked up, I found myself looking right down the woman's
blouse, as she was bending over to look at her car. I felt my
heart skip a beat when I realized I was looking straight at her
breasts.

I have no idea what I said or did after that, but I must have
stuttered something about insurance and how I was sorry and how
the premium would go up. The next thing I remember is her smile.

"Don't worry about it," she said. "I'll tell my uncle I parked
too close to a lamp post. He's rich enough, he can take it."

"Are you serious?" I asked. "I wasn't paying attention, this is
clearly my fault."

"Really, don't worry. Come on, let's park and forget about it."

I parked my car and held the door of the convenience store open
for her. She nodded at me and I followed her in. I started to
calm down a bit and took a closer look at her. She must have been
eighteen or twenty years old, had a bright face and shoulder-long
brown hair. She was wearing a loose fitting blouse, without
anything underneath as I had already seen. Short pants and
sandals completed her outfit.

The sight of her breasts was all I could think of. I tried not to
follow her, but still seemed to end up in the same aisle with
her. I kept trying to look without looking, specially when she
had to pick up something from the bottom shelves. Still I managed
to get more glances down her shirt.

I said I was clueless back then, and I really meant it. All
through college I was considered a nerd, and I really didn't mind
that. Generally the other students had left me alone. There were
a handful of other men I sometimes chatted with, but overall I
kept to myself and was happy to be left alone. A loner, they
called me.

By the time we reached the end of the store, her cart was almost
full while mine only contained the few snacks I had set out to
buy. She stopped at the display of charcoal, looking at it and at
her cart. I collected all my courage and spoke to her.

"I can take them in my cart, it that would help," I said.

She smiled. "Oh please, that would be kind. My cart seems to be
pretty full, and I really don't want to have to come back for
this."

I put the two bags of charcoal in my cart and we proceeded to the
checkout. She paid for her things while I put her bags back in
her cart. She then waited for me to pay for my few items and we
walked out together. Naturally, I helped her put her stuff in the
truck.

By the time I got home, the movie had started, but I didn't care
anymore. I masturbated three times that night, thinking about
this girl, her smile and her breasts.

It was two weeks before I saw here again. This time, it was at
the local library. I was checking if they had any new SF books
coming in and was wondering whether I should get one of my old
favorites again when she came up behind me.

"Hi," she said.

I startled and turned. "Oh, hi," I returned.

"Fancy bumping into you again," she said, then giggled. "Well,
not exactly bumping this time."

I tried to remain calm while my heart was pounding in my throat.

"What are you reading?" I asked. It was the only thing I could
think of, and it seemed kind of appropriate to ask in a library.

"Actually, I was looking for a Heinlein novel, but it seems
someone else has it right now."

"No kidding, which one?"

"It is called _Time Enough for Love_. Have you heard of that?"

"I have that book! I could lend it to you, if you want to read
it?"

"Oh, that would be awesome," she said. "You're a fan of
Heinlein?"

"Sure," I said, and we started talking about Heinlein, and then
about other science fiction authors while we walked around the
library. She was looking at books here and there, I mainly looked
at her. She was wearing a green summer dress and although the
material was opaque, it was clear she was not wearing a lot
underneath. The thin material outlined her breasts clearly, and
when she bent over to look at books at the lower shelves, her
dress would fall open far enough to prove the absence of a bra.

When we left, she followed me home in her truck, which didn't
show any trace of the accident. During the short drive, I tried
to think about what was happening. Here I was, a certified geek,
still a virgin at twenty-five, driving home with a beautiful
young woman following me. A young woman who shared at least one
of my interests. A young woman who, dare I think it, maybe could
like me?

By the time we reached my apartment, I realized the mess I had
left it in. I asked her if she would wait for a few moments while
I cleaned up, but she just laughed.

"I have two older brothers," she answered. "There is nothing I've
not seen before. Don't worry!"

We entered and I started making some room on the couch. I
actually found the Heinlein book right there, and handed it to
her. She sat down and started to read. I continued tidying up a
little bit, then realized I was being a bad host.

"Can I get you anything?" I asked. "I have some Coke, Mountain
Dew, Sprite, or... eh... I think that's about it."

"Coke is good," she said and I dutifully got two cokes with ice
from the kitchen. When I came back, she was sprawled over the
couch. I put the glasses on the table I had cleared and sat down
in a sofa.

After a few minutes, she looked up and picked up the glass.

"You know, I don't even know your name," I said.

"Natasha," she answered. "And you?"

"David. Nice to meet you."

She just smiled and went back to her book.

Another ten minutes later she looked up again.

"David, are you a virgin?" she asked.

I was so surprised that I didn't even turn red.

"Come on, you have read _Stranger in a Strange Land_, haven't
you? You know Heinlein's ideas about sex. I doubt there is a
single Heinlein fan in the world who believes sex is reserved
only for marriage. Right?"

"Well, yes..."

"So, have you acted upon that? Have you had sex?"

She didn't sound judgmental, just curious. That helped me relax a
bit and I answered truthfully, "no, not really."

"Would you want to?"

"Well, of course..."

My heart was starting to pound again. Was this conversation going
where I thought it was going?

She smiled and sat up straight, then gestured me to come and sit
next to her. When I did, she took my hand and held the back of it
to her cheeks.

I started to softly caress her cheeks, then her hair and her
ears. She did the same thing to me, then slowly pulled my face
closer to hers and kissed me on the tip of my nose.

My hand was moving down from her face, over her shoulder and down
her arm. She picked up the hand again and put it on her breast.

I didn't quite know what to do, so I started to slowly caress
her. Through the thin material of her blouse, I could feel
something harden under my touch, and realized it had to be her
nipple. Carefully, I pressed a little bit in her soft breast, and
immediately felt the nipple harden even more under my hand.

Natasha's face came closer again, and this time she kissed me
softly on my mouth. Still with one hand on her breast I tried to
respond and kiss her back. She then laid back and smiled at me.

"Relax," she said. "There is no hurry. We have all night, and can
do just what we want. Don't worry about what to do. I know you
are afraid, everyone is the first time. Just relax, let me lead.
Tell me what you like, and what you don't like."

This calmed me down just a little bit, but I guess it was enough.
She led me through the first time, just like she said she would.
After that we started seeing more and more of each other, and it
was a great time. Natasha was always exciting me in one way or
another. She would never wear underwear, ever, and always tried
to find way to show me. She would wear tiny mini skirts, or long
flowing dresses that were cut high on the side. She would wear
almost transparent blouses or open tops or sleeveless shirts that
had armpits down to her hips. Often enough people around us would
be able to see her nipples or her pubic hair, and we got some
strange looks, but mostly men whistling after her. Which only
excited me more. Remember, these were the seventies, and people
were more extravagant then they are now.

Then, we would have sex in the strangest places. She would jerk
me off sitting next to me in a restaurant or give me a blow job
during a movie. We'd have sex in a quiet corner in the mall, or
at the back of a McDonald. She was insatiable, always ready.

This had been going on for a few weeks when we were walking by a
playground.

"I'd like to have kids one day," I said, half jokingly.

"Yeah, me too," she answered dreamily. "It would be fun, wouldn't
it, one of those of our own?"

A few days later, the subject came up again, and this time it
became suddenly more pressing. She was wearing one of my favorite
dresses, one that consisted only of a front and back, no sides
except a thin thread at her hips. Every move she made exposed
something, but never long enough for it to be completely
indecent. We had been to the movies where she had drawn all the
attention in the lobby. I had been rock hard when the movie
started, it took almost nothing for her to get me to shoot off my
load. Before the movie was over, she had given me a blow job and
as a result I was feeling very peaceful.

"Remember we talked about kids a few days ago?" she asked.

"Sure I remember," I said. "What about them?"

"Well, I have an appointment with my doctor tomorrow, and I've
been thinking -- I can ask her to remove my IUD, which will make
me fertile again. That is, if you were really serious about
kids?"

Of course I knew about her birth control -- after that first
time, I had asked her about it and she had explained about the
IUD and how it theoretically would allow her to change from
infertile one day to fertile the next.

"Hmmm, I'll have to think about that," I said.

"That's OK, I just remembered because of the doctor's appointment
tomorrow. But I don't want to hurry you, we have all the time in
the world."

Natasha was like that, never pushing or forcing me. I didn't
realize it at the time, but it made me feel guilty. I did think
about it, that night after she had fallen asleep. The next
morning I told her to go ahead and have the IUD removed.

The next few weeks had some of the best sex in my whole life. It
must be something instinctive, having sex "for real" just doubles
the excitement. It wasn't long before she was pregnant.

We never got married. Natasha said it didn't matter, and I didn't
care much either. When you were born, we signed papers in which I
acknowledged you as my son, and we got joint custody. We were one
happy little family.

                               * * *

You weren't even a year old when it happened. We were having
breakfast and reading the newspaper, when she dropped her coffee
cup. I jumped up as it shattered on the tile floor.

"What's happening?" I asked.

She pointed at an article on the third page. The headline read
"Notorious Hacker Arrested."

"What about it?"

"This hacker guy, Ram17, you know? They caught him."

"I've heard of him, yes. Sorry to hear he's caught, but... why is
that so shocking?"

Natasha started to cry, the first time I had seen her do that.

"Dave, I have to tell you something. A lot of things. I am not
who you think I am, and this changes everything. About us."

Cold fingers of fear crept around my heart while I went over to
the cupboard to pour both of us a drink. It looked like we were
going to need one.

"My name is not Steinman," she started, "and I wasn't born here.
My real name is Natasha Khazanova and I was born in Kiev, in the
Union of Socialist Soviet Republics. My father personally knew
Stalin in his heyday. I never questioned the communist ideas, and
when a KGB recruiter came to our school, it was only natural that
I would sign up.

"Of course, I didn't know it was the KGB at first, but when I
found out it only made me more proud to be part of it. I believed
I would be able to fight for the Socialist cause and I was quite
willing to die for it.

"For two years, I was trained in the American culture and
language. I was shown how to move as if the world belonged to me,
how to use paper napkins and throw them away after use. I was
told about football and baseball and about country music and rock
and roll.

"Then it was time for my assignment. This hacker, Ram17, was
starting to make waves. It was clear that he was against the
American establishment, and I was to contact him and coach him to
do the things we wanted. We believed he could be our unknowing
tool to help bring down the American bourgeoisie and bring about
the Revolution here.

"I don't know who identified Ram17 for us, but he or she made a
big mistake. I was told you were the famous hacker, and set out
to seduce you.

"It wasn't very hard. You completely fell for me, and I felt I
could make you do anything. But when I started to prod carefully,
you wouldn't tell me anything about your hacking activities. I
thought I needed to tie you even closer to me, and did as I was
taught: got you to father a baby with me.

"You fell for that as you fell for everything I did, but to no
avail. There still was nothing about your hacking. That is when I
started to doubt whether you were Ram17 at all. At that point I
should have left you, gotten an abortion, and gone on to my next
assignment. But I couldn't do that.

"You see, you were so sweet and innocent. You believed everything
I said, everything I did. And you were so happy at the idea of
becoming a father. I couldn't take that away from you. So I
started evading my boss' questions. Telling him I was getting
closer to you, that I would be able to find out any moment now.
Finding all kinds of excuses.

"That has now all collapsed. Now that the real hacker is
arrested, my mission is over. I will have to report this
afternoon, and I don't think they will let me come back. I
probably will get away with what I have done, but I'll be going
back to Russia, and maybe on to a new assignment.

"I've always known this was going to happen one day, but never
really dared to think about it. Now the time has come, and I
don't know how to do it, how to say goodbye.

"I love you, Dave. I really do."

With that, she burst out in tears and I just held her. We held
each other for what seemed like forever, until the baby started
to cry. I gave her one last kiss, then went to take care of him.
When I came back to the kitchen, Natasha was gone.

                               * * *

The night had fallen by the time my father finished his story. We
went back inside while I was pondering what I just heard.

"So now you know, boy. Your mother was a Russian spy. You are
most literally a child of the Cold War."

"That's it?" I asked. "You never heard from her again?"

"Just one thing. In 1990, after the Iron Curtain had been lifted,
I received a letter. Natasha wrote that she had spend ten more
years in the KGB and now was working as a teacher. She said she
was married to a police chief, but that she still thought of me
and you. She wrote me not to try and find her, that the past is
over, but that she hoped I could forgive her."

"Could you?"

"Yes, I have forgiven her. I hated her at first, for luring me
into this paradise and then shattering it. But later I realized
that she didn't do it out of meanness, and that she left me a lot
of great memories. No, I have forgiven her. I just hope you can
do that too."

I didn't have to think long about it. If dad could forgive her,
so could I. I just wished I could tell her.

Only weeks later did I get the idea to write this story down.
I've discussed it with dad, and worked with him to make it as
accurate as possible. I know the chance is small, but who knows,
maybe Natasha somewhere will stumble upon this, and read it. She
will know.

To her wherever she may be, I want to say:

"Mommy, I love you!"

                           T H E   E N D

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If you enjoyed this story, please let me know. Constructive
criticism, serious comments etc. are also greatly appreciated. I
can be contacted by Email at altan1@bigfoot.com. Please use the
word "STORIES" in the subject line of your Email, since messages
not containing that word are automatically filtered as junk mail.

Please check out my Web site at:
     http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/altan/www/
for more of my work.

Altan

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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