An Almost Normal Life Ch. 01

William Carter leant back in his chair and stretched him arms up over his head, letting out a long sigh. It had been a long week, and yet here he was still sat at his desk when he should have been long gone.

"You still here, Carter?" he craned his neck to see his boss Maurice approaching along the row of desks. Around ten years Will's senior, he got on well with Maurice, and had even been around his house for drinks the previous summer.

"You know me, Skip. Do anything for the team."

Maurice laughed, coming to a stop at his desk. With his coat buttoned up and bag slung across his shoulder, his boss was clearly on his way out to start his weekend.

"What would we do without you, oh doyen." He grinned, "Seriously though, it's six o'clock on a Friday, and I know you've been here since before eight."

"I know, I know."

"If you keep leaving that gorgeous girlfriend of yours alone her eyes might wander." Maurice gestured to the photo on Will's desk. His girlfriend, Natasha, taken over the Christmas holiday when they had gone out walking in the snow. Even wrapped head to toe in warm clothes, her beauty shone like a beacon, her bright green eyes glowing and her big smile making his heart quicken even then.

"If I go home on time I'm on my own for hours anyway. She's been working late all this week."

"So that's why you're mister team man." Maurice chuckled, "Still, you've got to watch out for the late nights, especially with a girl like that."

Will frowned at that. What was he implying?

Seemingly picking up on Will's change of demeanour, Maurice raised his hands apologetically.

"Shit, sorry mate, I didn't mean it like that. Natasha is nothing like that, I know," his boss explained, "It's just...well, she's stunning. Like, seriously. She's got to have guys swarming all over her."

It was true enough. Natasha was beautiful, and it wasn't just in his eyes. Everyone agreed. The guys at work - people who had only met her once or twice - gossiped about her, people stopped and gawped in the street when they were out, she was endlessly complaining about guys hitting on her.

Will was decent enough looking himself, but standing side by side with his girlfriend he always felt completely outmatched. She was Hollywood A-List, and he was bit part in Emmerdale.

But he never doubted her. She was as good a person as he had ever known, and he trusted her with his life. If anything, she was far more nervous about him straying than the reverse.

But then she had specific insecurities around that.

"It's cool, I get it, but we're good." he said calmly, "she's on a big project right now. She's been basically live updating me on her calls all afternoon."

Natasha worked as a project manager for a major telecoms company, and her most recent project was coming into a crunch period. With so many people involved, she'd been late almost every night for weeks, mired in endless conference calls, meetings and firefighting sessions. She had a habit, when bored on a call, of texting him over and over with pained commentary.

"That's good to hear." Maurice said with a nod, "You need to keep a hold of that one, Carter."

"Don't I know it!" He laughed.

They chatted amiably about plans for the weekend - his boss was taking the kids to the village faire - before Maurice left. Not long after, feeling lonely in the office almost alone, Will packed up his own things to leave.

The spring sun of the early evening put him in good spirits as he travelled home, and the miles flew by. Before he knew it, he was pulling into the drive of their small detached property, whistling to himself as he went inside.

Both he and Natasha earned good wages, and though it had seemed a big step to move into together after only four months dating, it had turned out even better that he had hoped. Natasha was a delight to live with; as warm, fun and lovely as she had ever been, but now all day long. They rarely fought, and never heatedly, usually over some trivial matter that could quickly be worked out.

Of the two, he was the stickler for cleanliness, although she never shirked her responsibilities. They shared most everything, from cleaning to cooking to paperwork, and it seemed to mesh perfectly.

Everywhere he looked around the place he could see signs of her; a painting of a snowy country scene she had found at a car boot sale hung up in the hallway, a heavy stuffed elephant doorstop in the lounge, the bright display of artificial sunflowers sitting in the conservatory, a note she had left pinned to the fridge door warning him to leave her Greek yoghurt alone in mock stern tones, complete with a frowny face.

It was a place filled with her, and Will had never felt more at home.

He had only spent a few minutes in front of the television, weekend reward beer in hand, when he heard the sound of Natasha's car pulling into the drive. Smiling, he got up to greet her.

Standing in the doorway into the main hall, Will raised a hand in greeting as his girlfriend nudged the door open.

After the gruelling fortnight she had been through at work, Natasha looked a little worn down, but still cheerful. She was dressed in jeans and a grey sweater - her office, like his own, dressed down each Friday - and her knee length cream coloured coat. Her face lit up when she saw him, her big green eyes sparkling.

"Welcome home," he said warmly, "how did everything go in the end?"

Natasha grinned, flashing him a victory sign as she shrugged her laptop bag off and lowered it to the floor.

"All good, everything is on track," she said, "I get to leave my computer turned off this weekend."

"Great work," he said earnestly. He'd been involved in enough big projects in his own line of work to know how things got around crunch time.

Humming an acknowledgement, Natasha stepped close to him, arms outstretched, and he drew her into a hug.

Natasha was a few inches shorter than him - Will wasn't a tall man, but nor was he particularly short - and seemed to fit perfectly in his arms. She squeezed him gently for a few moments, her large chest mashing pleasantly against his while he breathed in the scent of her hair.

"What a week," she said wearily, "This is what I needed."

"Glad to be of service," he chuckled, patting her on the back, "Energy transfer initiated."

Natasha giggled into the crook of his neck, squeezing tighter.

"I've ordered the holiday money now," she said after a short silence.

"Oh, really?" Will perked up. They were due to be flying out to Greece the following weekend, but with Natasha's work they'd been worried it might need to be postponed.

"Yep, we're going. No more messing around." Pulling back a little, Natasha grinned up at him. Her bright green eyes shone with warmth and happiness, "I spoke with Miranda, and she's basically said I'm out the door on Friday come what may."

"Er, Miranda...?" Will was sure he'd heard the name before, but it could be a little hard to keep track of everyone Natasha worked with.

"The big boss, operations director." Natasha made a face, "You know, the Dragon of Filsbury Data Centre."

"Hey, it's your office, not mine," Will laughed, "but it does sound familiar. That's great news."

With a cheerful hum Natasha tugged on his shoulders, and he obliged in leaning down for a kiss. Once more, like every day, he was reminded at just how soft and sweet his girlfriends lips were, and how good it felt to hold her.

The kiss was short and chaste, and his girlfriend drew back, bouncing on her heels as she did so.

"So, what's for dinner tonight? I'm starving." Her eyes brightened, "Oh, can we get takeaway?"

"I was thinking pasta," Will stepped away towards the dining room, "I want to keep at least some of the gut off for the beach."

"Boo." Natasha pouted.

"Not all of us can look like movie stars," he said airily, "anyway, what's wrong with my cooking?"

"Oh ha ha. You look great, drama queen." Natasha laughed, "But I'm not leaving you to cook unsupervised. What are we making, then?"

Once Natasha had put away her office bag - firmly slamming the under-stair cupboard door as she did so - they moved to the kitchen together. Cooking was one of the things they enjoyed doing together, and Will had always found it a nice way to bond with her. Natasha was an enthusiastic cook, always keen to try new recipes or emulate something she had seen on Masterchef or similar. Usually her ambition got a little ahead of her experience, but they always had fun time trying to make it work, even if they ended up with the odd soufflé looking like a biscuit dropped in a ramekin full of gravy. Will was happy to do the donkey work, honing the tried and trusted meals to make sure they always had something good to eat at the end of the day.

They worked in perfect synch in the kitchen, chatting as they danced around one another. Natasha prepared the tomato sauce whilst he diced and fried some chicken breast with a little paprika and garlic. Once he was ready to hand the meat off to stir into the sauce, she had set the pan to boil the pasta. Side by side at the hob, she stirred in the chicken to her sauce, whilst he measured out the wholemeal penne to go along with it.

It was so easy and natural, Will's heart swelled when they both stepped back at the same time, her eyes seeking out his and her trademark happy grin emerging. Smiling back, he swept her up into a hug, swinging her around the kitchen as she beat playfully at his shoulders, giggling.

"See, this is better than a takeaway."

"Just you wait; I wasn't stingy on the chilli this time."

Will kept an eye on the pasta and stirred the sauce whilst Natasha went to freshen up - and no doubt surreptitiously check her emails. By the time she returned he was ready to serve, and she captured him in a hug from behind as he did so, resting her chin on his shoulder to watch.

"I'm hungry," she commented as he moved to set the leftovers aside. With exaggerated care, he served another heaped spoonful onto her plate. Natasha hummed her approval, kissing him on the cheek.

"Shall we open a bottle of wine?" he asked as he picked up both plates.

"Just try and stop me." Natasha giggled, releasing him and skipping across the kitchen to their small wire-frame wine rack. Will was more of a beer man himself, but it was nice to share a bottle with his girlfriend over an evening meal. Natasha was no great connoisseur either, and was just as happy with cider, beer or cocktails depending on her mood.

"Do you remember which one we had when Dan and Evie were over?" Natasha called as he carried their food through to the dining room.

"It was Australian, I think," he replied, "with a blue label."

"Ooh, the Cabinet Servingnon." Natasha said, deliberately butchering the pronunciation, "I guess that's one I like?"

"Well, we liked it before."

He dealt with the cork and she poured them both a glass, settling them down on the dining room table beside the food. Placing the bottle on the table, Natasha stood for a moment, hands on hips, looking satisfied.

"Aren't we looking classy tonight?" she said cheerily.

"We're classy every night." Will said, taking his seat.

"Last night we had pot noodles and Ribena in front of the telly."

"Ribena is classy. It could have been supermarket own brand squash."

"Classy for certain definitions of classy," she grinned.

"Exactly."

They chatted while they ate, flitting aimlessly between topics, any talk of work behind them. The pasta was good, if a little spicier than Will was typically used to, and the wine was perfectly serviceable.

"So, I was thinking we could drop by my parent's house on Sunday." Will said, once he'd finished, stretching an arm over his head. Natasha made a quizzical sound, muffled by the mouth full of food she still had. "Mum said they have loads of sun cream left over from their holiday. It would save one job."

Natasha rocked from side to side for a moment, still chewing, before she could reply.

"Your mum buys, like, factor six stuff."

"It's fine if you're just going to sit under a tree reading all day." Natasha made a face at him, "Anyway, dad uses a stronger one, so it should be fine."

Natasha shrugged.

"Sure, makes sense then. Can we stay for dinner too, or just a flying visit to clear ransack the holiday wardrobe?"

"We'll stay for dinner, I'm not sure mum would let us leave anyway," they had a more or less open invite to drop in on his parents whenever. They loved Natasha almost as much as he did, and his mum was only too happy to cook for everyone, "I think Elly is home from uni for the weekend, too."

"Oh, that'll be nice - this is sounding more like a get together than a sun cream raid." Natasha smiled, "She must be coming up to exam season, right?"

"Yeah, she's stressing out a bit - I think that's why she's come back." Will shrugged, "She worries too much. She's smart, and she studies more than I ever did."

"Maybe she wants to do better than a dirty old two-one." Natasha stuck her tongue out.

"You wound me, woman." He put a hand to his heart, "Anyway, everyone knows that Business Management isn't a real degree."

"Oh really?" Pushing back her chair, Natasha skipped around the table. Will raise his hands, laughing, as she approached. Evading his guard, she poked him in the side twice, making him laugh even harder. "You take that back, Billy Boy."

"Sure, sure, I submit." Will swatted half-heartedly at her jabbing hands, still laughing, "Have mercy."

Stepping back, Natasha rested her hands on her hips, grinning broadly. After the tiring few weeks she had gone through, Will was glad to see her in such good spirits.

"So..." he said after a moment, before reaching over the table with his fork, "You gonna finish this?"

Natasha let out a yelp, rushing back to her chair as he snagged a piece of her pasta.

After they had finished eating Natasha vanished upstairs whilst Will cleared the plates and moved to the living room. Sitting down on the settee, he turned the television on to start browsing through the films saved on their set-top box.

After a few minutes Natasha returned, wine bottle in hand, wearing her blue checked pyjamas and her hair tied up in a loose ponytail. Even in such casual nightwear she looked gorgeous, the mostly loose fabric taut around her large bust, a hint of cleavage showing through.

Plopping down next to him, Natasha leant over, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Have you found anything to watch?" she asked.

"I've got a few ideas, but do you have anything in mind? Comedy, action..."

Natasha tapped one finger against her chin, staring up at the corner of the room where the ceiling met the wall.

"Oh, how about a thriller? Something with spies."

After a little more searching they settled on a John le Carre adaption Natasha had recorded the previous week and settled in. Lying lengthways along the sofa, he hugged her closely to him as she snuggled up against him, innocently pressing her pert behind against him. Will wasn't sure how well he was going to be able to follow an intricate espionage plot.

The film was interesting, if a little heavy going for him after a long week of work. Natasha was enraptured as usual; she loved mystery and intrigue more than anything.

After around an hour Will paused the film to visit the toilet and, having finished the bottle of wine, to get a couple of bottles of beer. When he returned he was amused to find his girlfriend had managed to snag a tube of Pringles and steal his seat while he was away.

Unconcerned, he settled down on the sofa, allowing Natasha to be the big spoon, after he'd ensured she could see over him. He handed Natasha her drink then leant back against her, her soft body providing a perfect pillow for to enjoy the film with.

For a while they continued to watch, Natasha cuddled up tightly against him, still enraptured. It was a familiar situation, and Will was fairly certain he knew what would be coming before the film finished.

When he had first started dating Natasha, he had not been able to believe his luck. They had met at some social gathering or other, she a friend of an acquaintance. He had become familiar with the way she lit up a room over time, but on that day he had been completely awestruck by her beauty and bowled over by her warmth and charm. Much to his delight, they had hit it off immediately and, by the end of the night, had swapped phone numbers with the vague promise to meet up again.

Will had been victim of the fake number brush off once or twice before, but thankfully it had not been the case that night, and they had soon arranged to meet up again.

Then had come the real bombshell. After only a couple of weeks and a handful of enjoyable pseudo-dates, Will had mustered up the courage to ask Natasha out for real. At that point, she had let him know her secret.

His perfect, beautiful, smart and sweet potential girlfriend had a cock.

Will liked to think of himself as an open, modern man, but that revelation had left him dumbstruck. It didn't seem possible; she was easily the prettiest girl he had ever met, and nothing even hinted at anything else.

Along with everything else, he also realised in that moment that, whatever else he was feeling, the worst thing was to see Natasha looking sad. Her nervous, crestfallen expression at his gormless reaction had spurred him back into life. However confusing the situation was, he never wanted to see her upset.

So, despite everything, he had cast his doubts aside on the spot, and they had started dating. It was the best decision he had ever made.

The revelations didn't just stop there, much to his general befuddlement. Having a cock was one thing, but she soon revealed that she was bigger than him; substantially so. It had been somewhat emasculating, but also not. It was just Natasha, his girlfriend. He could share anything with her.

When their relationship progressed further she dropped her next big bomb - she liked to be on top. She was gunning for his butt with her big...gun, and it was another decision he had to make. For their first time she wanted to take him - she had been burned too many times dating guys who made promises but wouldn't reciprocate in the end.

She had turned on the wheedling charm he had come to know well since, and by this point he was too smitten with her to back out, despite the implications.

Somehow he'd survived that first night, and Natasha had been so happy it was hard to even complain, however sore he might have been. It had never even crossed his mind as something he would ever do, but somehow having the most beautiful woman in the world gaze down at him while she fucked his ass made it that little more bearable.

The intervening months had taught him more of her little tricks, and he was surprised at how quickly they had settled back into a normal rhythm despite the unorthodox facet of their relationship. And now, snuggled up against her on the settee, he could guess what was to come.

His suspicions were confirmed towards the end of the film, when she started to fidget and squirm behind him. He could feel her shifting her weight, pressing against him and withdrawing slightly, her hands still clasping him tightly. When she finally settled again he could feel it; her thick length pressed firmly up against his ass.

Smiling to himself, Will resolved to ignore it for now and continue watching. He had learnt a long time ago that if he allowed himself to be distracted every time Natasha got a hard on they wouldn't get through to the end of the film.

Natasha continued to fidget as they watched, surreptitiously grinding her crotch against him, as though he wouldn't notice. She was clearly a little hornier than usual; it had been hard to find time together in the week, with the long nights working.