Beyond Fantasies vol 2

Beyond Fanstasies vol 2

Natalie's Game

Igor Pajic

Taboo Dreams

Copyright © 2024 Igor Pajic

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.


Cover design by: Taboo Dreams

The humid afternoon air clung to Ian's skin as he lazily pedaled his bike up the hill, his eyes glued to the horizon where the fiery sun was slowly descending. A gentle breeze whispered through the leaves of the tall oak trees lining the quiet suburban street, carrying with it the faint sound of laughter and distant music. As he approached his house, the music grew louder, the thump of a bass line reverberating through the open windows.

Ian knew the weekend was going to be interesting. His sister, Ivy has invited s Natalie, who at 23, was a full five years his senior.

Natalie was not the kind of girl that typically turned heads. She had a certain charm that went beyond the traditional markers of beauty that most teenage boys drooled over. Her skin was a canvas of freckles, a map of her adventures outdoors, and her hair was cropped short and messy, like she had just rolled out of bed. No makeup adorned her face, leaving her features bare and honest. Her body was on the petite side, with no exaggerated curves that the magazines obsessed over. She wore baggy clothes that hinted at a figure that was more athletic than voluptuous, leaving her sexuality as mysterious as the plot of the latest novel he was reading.

To Ian, she was just Ivy's friend, a familiar face that had been popping in and out of his life for as long as he could remember. They shared a bond that was more familial than romantic, filled with inside jokes and playful banter. He had never seen her as anything other than a slightly older sister figure, someone who knew all his secrets and had seen him at his worst. He had crushes before, sure, but they were always on the glammed-up cheerleaders or the popular girls at school. Never had his gaze lingered on Natalie in that way, not even in those awkward moments when he stumbled upon her changing or when she emerged from the pool in a damp bikini.

Natalie was cool in a way that didn't demand attention. She could talk about video games and sports with the same enthusiasm as she could discuss poetry and philosophy. She didn't giggle at his jokes or feign interest in his teenage angst, but instead, she met him on his level, teasing him and pushing him to be better. They had a friendship that was easy and uncomplicated, one that didn't need to be dissected or labeled. She was just Nat, the girl who knew him better than most, the girl who was always there when he needed her.

Growing up as an only child, Natalie had often wished for a sibling, someone to share her life with, to confide in, to argue with, to laugh with. Her parents were busy with their careers, leaving her with a gap in her life that friends couldn't quite fill. When she met Ian, she found a kind of kinship in him that she hadn't expected. He was the younger brother she never had, someone who looked up to her and treated her with the same love and respect that she had always craved. She took him under her wing, teaching him the ways of the world, the things that books and school couldn't.

On weekends like this, when she would come to stay, they would spend hours in the basement, the glow of the TV screen casting the only light in the otherwise shadowy room. The air was thick with the scent of pizza and the faint hint of Ian's deodorant, which he had not quite mastered the art of applying appropriately. They would sit side by side on the on armchairs, the springs groaning beneath them as they jumped and yelled at the video games they played. The sound of the digital battles filled the air, mingling with their laughter and the occasional frustrated grunt as one of them died for the umpteenth time.

The basement was Ian's sanctuary, a place where he could be himself without the judgmental eyes of the outside world. It was also the place where Natalie felt the most comfortable around him, where she could let her guard down and be the girl who didn't have to be the cool, collected adult all the time. She would show up in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. They would order in junk food and watch movies that were far too mature for Ian's age, but she didn't care. It was their little secret, a shared world that no one else knew about.

Today was no different. As Ian kicked off his shoes at the door, the smell of the pizza they had ordered earlier grew stronger. The TV was on pause, the screen displaying the frozen image of a video game battlefield. Natalie was sitting on the floor, her back leaning against the armchair, scrolling through her phone. She looked up as he entered, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "You're just in time," she said, setting her phone aside. "I found a new game we have to try."

They settled into their usual spots, Ian taking his place on the worn-out couch, Natalie on the floor with her legs tucked under her. The coolness of the basement was a stark contrast to the sticky heat outside. They picked up their controllers, their thumbs dancing over the buttons as they navigated their avatars through the pixelated jungle. The game was a retro-style platformer, a throwback to the days when video games didn't need high-definition graphics to be fun.

The door to the basement was closed tightly, the music from the party upstairs muffled to a dull throb that resonated through the floorboards. It was a silent agreement between them, a barricade against the cacophony of laughter and conversation that could so easily invade their private space. The dim lighting cast a warm glow over the room, highlighting the dust motes that danced in the air like lazy fireflies. The basement was their fortress, a place where they could escape and be themselves.

They played games for hours, the laughter bubbling up in their throats and spilling over into the quiet of the room. Natalie's cheeks were flushed with excitement as she leaned in closer to the screen, her eyes narrowing in concentration. Ian watched her from the corner of his eye, taking in the way her hair fell across her face, the way her tongue peeked out slightly when she was really into it. He had never noticed how pretty she was before, how the shadows played across her features, accentuating her high cheekbones and the fullness of her lips.

The game was simple, but it had a way of bringing out their competitive spirits. They shouted and cheered, each victory and defeat met with playful jabs and good-natured ribbing.

"Come on, Ian, you can do better than that!" Natalie exclaimed, as his character took a virtual hit and disappeared in a puff of digital smoke.

They played games for some time, the laughter and banter flowing as freely as the soda they were sipping from the cans sitting on the floor beside them. The coolness of the basement was a stark contrast to the sticky heat outside, making the room feel like a cozy cocoon where the outside world didn't exist. They were lost in the pixelated world of the retro platformer, their eyes glued to the screen as they guided their avatars through treacherous jungles and across perilous bridges.

But as the night grew later and the house above them grew quieter, their energy for video games began to wane. Usually, they would have switched to a movie by now, the large TV screen acting as a portal to other worlds and stories. But tonight felt different. The air was charged with something Ian couldn't quite put his finger on, a tension that was palpable, yet thrilling. He glanced at Natalie, her eyes still focused on the game, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth in concentration.

"Let's play something else," she said suddenly, setting her controller down. "Something... more interactive."

Ian felt a flicker of excitement at the challenge in her voice. "What did you have in mind?"

Natalie smirked, her eyes never leaving the screen. "How about a bet?" She suggested, a hint of mischief in her tone. "Loser has to... do something for the winner."

Ian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What kind of something?"

Natalie leaned back against the chair, stretching her legs out in front of her. "I don't know," she said with a shrug. "We'll come up with it when we get there."

Ian felt a rush of excitement. "Okay, you're on."

The next game they played was a fast-paced racing game, one where the tracks twisted and turned with a ferocity that would make even the most seasoned drivers sweat. Ian's heart raced as he steered his car through the virtual streets, his thumbs a blur on the controller. Normally, he would have had no trouble besting Natalie; his reflexes and gaming instincts were sharper than hers. But tonight, something was different. He found himself making small mistakes, deliberately taking risks that he knew were foolish. And every time she took the lead, a strange thrill shot through him, as if he was eager for her victory.

Natalie noticed his slipping performance and her smirk grew wider. She could feel the electricity between them, the unspoken dare that had been thrown down. "Looks like you're getting rusty, kiddo," she teased, her eyes flicking over to him before returning to the screen.

The final lap approached, and Ian made one last, desperate attempt to catch up, his heart pounding in his chest. But it was too late; Natalie crossed the finish line with a digital burst of fireworks, her car gliding smoothly through the virtual tape. She set her controller down and turned to him, her eyes gleaming with victory. "Looks like you owe me one," she said, her voice low and playful.

Ian's mind raced. What could she possibly want from him? A dare? A favor? Something simple and innocent, like doing the dishes or walking her dog? But as he met her gaze, he saw something deeper, something that sent a shiver down his spine. It was a look that said she had a different kind of prize in mind.

"Alright, what's it gonna be?" He asked, trying to keep his voice steady, but it came out slightly higher pitched than he intended.

Natalie took her time, savoring her victory. "Hmm," she began, her eyes roaming over him in a way that made him feel both exposed and desired. "How about a dance?"

Ian blinked. "A dance?"

Natalie nodded, her smile widening. "Yeah, a dance. Nothing too crazy, just something to shake off the dust." She got to her feet, the hem of her shirt riding up slightly, revealing the smooth skin of her midriff. Ian felt his pulse quicken at the sight, his eyes lingering a moment longer than they should have.

He swallowed hard, setting his controller aside and standing up as well. "Okay, I guess."

The music from upstairs was a muted backdrop as they faced each other in the center of the basement. Natalie picked up the remote and scrolled through the playlist, her eyes dancing as she found the perfect song. It was something slow, a rhythm that seemed to pulse through the very walls of the room, wrapping around them like a warm embrace.

They started dancing, their bodies moving awkwardly at first, all angles and elbows. Ian felt the heat of her palm against his, her other hand resting tentatively on his shoulder. He could feel her breath, warm and sweet, brushing against his neck as she leaned in closer, guiding him through the steps. He was painfully aware of every inch of space between them, the way their hips bumped together with the beat, the way their eyes met and held.

Their movements grew more fluid as the song went on, their bodies syncing up to the rhythm, the air around them thick with something unspoken. They weren't dancing like they had at family gatherings, where the steps were formal and the touches were chaste. This was different. It was a dance of discovery, of testing boundaries, of a connection that was slowly morphing into something else entirely.

"Okay, let's play another round," Natalie whispered in his ear, her breath sending shivers down his spine.

Ian nodded, his eyes locked onto hers, and the room spun around them as the music grew louder. They both knew the rules had changed, the stakes had been raised. The dance had become something else entirely, a silent negotiation of desire and want. They moved closer, their bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces that had been apart too long. Her hands slid down his arms, resting lightly on his waist, pulling him nearer until their chests brushed together with every beat.

The next game they played was a first-person shooter, a stark contrast to the playfulness of the racing game. It was a game of precision and strategy, one that required unwavering focus and a steady hand. Ian took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the bet on his shoulders. This was his chance to regain control, to prove that he could beat her at something. He needed to win, not just for the sake of the bet, but for the unspoken challenge in her eyes.

They settled into their spots, the glow of the screens casting a stark blue light over their faces. The air was thick with anticipation, the mood in the room shifting from playful to intense. The headset muffled the sound of his own breathing as he zeroed in on the virtual battlefield, his eyes scanning for the faintest movement. Natalie's avatar was a shadow in the distance, and he knew she was watching him just as intently.

The digital world around them was a war zone, a maze of corridors and hiding spots that could be fatal for the careless. Ian's hands trembled slightly, not from fear of losing the game, but from the sudden awareness of the stakes. He knew that if he won, he would be granted a prize that was more than just a simple victory; it was a chance to explore the newfound tension between them.

He played with a focus he hadn't had since the first time he picked up a controller. Every move was calculated, every shot precise. The game was a dance of death, and he was the maestro. His heart raced as he stalked her through the digital hallways, the sound of virtual gunfire echoing in his ears. The sweat beaded on his forehead, not from the heat of the day but from the heat of the moment.

Natalie was good, she always had been. But tonight, she seemed to be holding back, giving him an opening that he eagerly took. He could see the surprise in the tilt of her head as he outmaneuvered her, the way her eyes widened slightly when he scored a perfect headshot. It was a silent challenge, and he was rising to meet it.

"Yeah, Ian, you're on fire!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and admiration. The sound of her cheering for him was intoxicating, and he played harder, pushing himself to the limits of his skill. The room was a blur of pixels and shadows, their avatars locked in a deadly dance that mirrored the one they had just shared.

Finally, the moment came. Ian's crosshairs found their target, and with a triumphant shout, he took Natalie's character down. The screen flashed 'Victory' in neon letters, and the music swelled, signaling his win. He tore off his headset, his heart pounding in his chest. "I did it," he murmured, more to himself than to her.

Natalie looked at him, her eyes wide and a little surprised. She had underestimated him, and the thrill of the game had turned into something else entirely. Something was shifting between them, something palpable and electric. She couldn't deny the thrill that shot through her as she watched him celebrate his victory.

"My turn," Ian said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the very core of her being. The words hung in the air like a declaration of intent, and Natalie felt a shiver of anticipation. She had made the bet without really thinking, a spur-of-the-moment decision fueled by the excitement of the game and the warm buzz of the evening. But now, as she met his gaze, she realized that she had no idea what she had just unleashed.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"I want to see you dance," Ian replied, his eyes never leaving hers. "Properly."

Natalie's heart skipped a beat, the words coming out of his mouth so unexpectedly. She had danced with him before, of course, but those moments had been innocent and playful. This was different. This was a request, a demand, wrapped in the velvet of a dare.

"Properly?" she asked, her voice a whisper of challenge. "What does that even mean?"

"Just you in front of dancing slowly "

Natalie felt a thrill of excitement at his words, a mix of nerves and desire. She had never seen this side of Ian before, the side that was confident and sure of what he wanted. It was intoxicating, and she found herself nodding in agreement. She had come here for a weekend of fun and relaxation, but the night had taken a turn she never could have predicted.

They cleared the space in the center of the room, moving the coffee table aside with a scrape of wood on the concrete floor. The music from upstairs was the only sound now, the throb of the bass a heartbeat that matched the racing of her own heart. She looked at him, the young man who had always been just a part of the furniture of her friendship with Ivy, and suddenly, she saw him in a whole new light.

Natalie picked a slow, sensual song from the playlist, the kind that made you want to move your body in ways that were both intimate and alluring. The kind of song that whispered promises in your ear and painted a picture of what could happen next. As the first notes filled the air, she stepped closer to Ian, her movements deliberate and controlled. The way she moved was mesmerizing, her hips swaying in time with the music, her eyes never leaving his.

Her body might not have been the kind that graced the pages of magazines, but the way she danced was like watching a secret unfold. She didn't have the curves that screamed 'sexy' from a mile away, but the way she moved, the confidence in every step, made her sexiness undeniable.

Ian watched her, his eyes wide and slightly fearful. He had never seen Natalie like this before. She was usually so... well, normal. So unassuming. But now, she was anything but. The way she danced, it was like she was peeling back layers of herself, revealing something raw and untouched. And he was the only one here to witness it.

Her hips swayed in time with the music, a rhythm that was both mesmerizing and hypnotic. Her movements were fluid, each step calculated to drive him wild. She rolled her shoulders, her shirt sliding down just enough to expose the delicate strap of her bra. He couldn't look away, his eyes following the curve of her collarbone, the swell of her breasts, the way her belly button peeked out from under her shirt.