Getting Some Tail

I have to confess, I've had a wide and varied sex life, met all kinds of people who had different tastes, different skills, and different levels of experience. In fact, I thought that I had seen it all. I mean, after a while you kind of get it into your head that people really don't tend to get much more different or varied.

That is, until I met Natalia.

Without question, Natalia was one of the most unique girls I had ever met, even non-sexually. Shy, but with a wicked sense of humor that usually came out when she thought nobody was paying attention. I was instantly attracted to her the moment I met her, but I couldn't figure out whether or not the feeling was mutual.

It

seemed

like she was interested, but whenever I asked her to go do something she always hedged, or tried to see if there were more people going.

I'm not stupid; I knew the signs. I was headed for the dreaded "Friend Zone."

Not that this was a terrible place to be, mind you. Natalia was extremely bright, witty, and interesting to be around. She worked as a chemical scientist in a major corporation looking into various new forms of renewable energy and, while I rarely understood what the hell it all meant, it was particularly fascinating to see her perspective on things. I've always gravitated towards bright women and Natalia was a never-ending source of fascination for me.

We were at the point in our 'relationship' (if you can call it that) where there was minor flirting, but also a bit of an uncomfortable will-she-won't-she go to the next step. I hadn't exactly been waiting for her, but the more time we spent together, I found myself getting more and more drawn to her.

A mutual friend decided to hold a "fancy dress" party. Now, in the US that's called a "costume party" but she had just come back from the UK and was going through an obsessive

anglophile

phase.You know the kind of person I'm talking about. Suddenly her cell phone is a "mobile" and every conversation ends with "Cheers."

Nevertheless, a costu-- er, fancy dress party sounded like a lot of fun, so I figured what the hell?

I went stag, dressed as a ghost pirate. My face was painted up in a gruesome skull visage, and I wore a open-necked blouse with tights, boots, and a sword by my side. You know, the kind of thing that a straight guy would never wear

except

to a costume party. Even so, If I do say so myself, I looked pretty damn good.

When I walked in the door, I felt in the "zone." It's hard to describe what that means in words, but I'm sure others have felt it too. Sometimes you go out, but you're not really "feeling it." Other times you go out and you feel like you rule the world. This was one of those nights.

Looking around the packed house, I wasn't surprised to see Natalia there; what surprised me was how drop-dead sexy she was. In fact, I almost didn't recognize her.

"Dayum!" I said, when I saw her. She smiled bashfully at the compliment.

Normally Natalia hid behind a plainness that seemed to scream "ignore me!" Even though her job gave her every reason to avoid dressing for show (lab coats are rarely considered lingerie-like), she seemed to take a particular effort to be

extra

invisible and nondescript.

Not tonight. She was wearing a skin-tight leopard print cat suit. Every curve was accentuated in all the right ways. Her blonde hair, normally kept up in a bland ponytail, fell down across her shoulders resembling something like a mane. Okay, a mix-and-match of animals but,

fuck me!

, it worked.

She had painted the tip of her nose with a black spot and drawn whiskers. She decided to contrast this with a definitely non-animal-esque ruby lipstick, and the effect was stunning.

"Turn around," I prodded. "Let's see the whole package!"

She did a little dance in place, and I could see that she had gone through the whole nine yards. The form fitting suit included a tail that had a wire that allowed it to be controlled so that it moved. I watched as it moved from side to side a little, perfectly framed by Natalia's gorgeous little bubble butt.

I didn't even

know

she had a bubble butt!

"Natalia," I said, beaming. "You have really outdone yourself. You look amazing!"

She did, too. The fact that she went to all this effort - and so radically departed from her normally frumpy, dressed down, long skirt look, was a shock.

She did a little courtesy. "Why thank you," she said coyly. "You look pretty damn good yourself. I don't think I've ever seen a more handsome zombie."

"Zombie?" I was crushed. "I'm a ghost pirate," I protested.

She laughed, and I realized she had got me.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said. "Where's the alcohol in this place?"

She nodded. "Good idea," she said, smiling. "Let's go get some."

As we made our way to the makeshift bar, I couldn't take my eyes off her. There's a reason why men like catsuits, and for women who can wear them well there is an internal struggle for men - well, okay,

me

, I admit it! - to resist the urge to openly gape or to touch.

It was a battle I was momentarily winning, but only barely. My God, I had no idea she had such a tight little body underneath the clothes she usually wore.

At the bar, both of us reached for some of the good quality beer. One of the reasons I really liked this girl was because of her laid-back character and, yeah, because we both liked the same good beer. A little chit-chat, and a few friends stopped by, some introductions were made. Overall, the party was going well, and the company was good.

Some of the party-goers had really pulled out all the stops. There were robots, princesses (all men, each one trying to upstage the other in hilarity), and even a few really raunchy costumes. A good time was had by all.

Especially me. I had started drinking the beer and neglected to remember that each one was nearly 9% alcohol - a lot more than what you usually found at parties like this. The effect of the alcohol was compounded by the fact that I really,

really

wanted Natalie.

I didn't even realize how much I was staring at her. At one point it's possible I was even drooling. I have no idea. All I knew is that before that night, I knew I liked her and had hoped for more. I

had

to go for it. She was just too awesome not to try.

She had come out of her shell. It's not clear what it was, perhaps it was the suit, perhaps it was the alcohol as well (she didn't have as much as me, but she had at least more than one), but she felt liberated, more comfortable with herself.

And it made her sexier than I had ever seen her.

As she talked to people in the room, I got several fantastic looks at her backside. I was fascinated by her figure, and wasn't sure when i was going to see her ass on such fantastic display again, and I was soaking up the opportunity while I could.

Now, as a technical guy ("geek" in common parlance), I succumb to similar issues as other technical guys: we like to know how things work.

In a stream of consciousness, my mind evolved from carnal thoughts about Natalia's ass to more... technical ponderings.

More and more, a strange feeling came over me, a compulsion of sorts. I found myself absolutely obsessed with the idea of grabbing her tail and seeing how it worked. As a technical guy, I'm fascinated by seamless engineering, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how she had hooked up the tail.

I'd love to blame the alcohol, but in reality my mind just works in strange ways. I mean, it's not normal for a guy to start thinking about sex and

then

move on to thinking about costume mechanics, right?

Part of the problem for me was that her suit left very little to the imagination. That's a problem, you say? Well, yeah.

Every curve was smooth, and the skin-tight stretch fabric seemed to hide very little. As it was leopard-print it was still tasteful in all the right areas, and there must have been some secret channel that the wire was sewn into. How the hell was she able to make the tail move?

Like an obsessed fan trying to figure out a magician's trick, I studied her body, her movements, and her tail. I couldn't figure it out. I watched her closely, focusing on her hands. She didn't have a lever, no remote that I could see. I watched her talk with people and suddenly the end of the tail would flick, or move, or it would sway from side to side. I looked quickly to her hands to see if she had pulled on some hidden wire, but I always missed it.

She moved away from a crowd and passed by me to go through a corridor on her way to the restroom. I watched, mesmerized, determined to try to see the trick up her sleeve, so to speak. Her body moved fluidly past me, and I saw...

Nothing!

I don't know why no one at the party hadn't tried to do it already. Maybe it was because I was a bit tipsier than the rest of the crowd. Maybe they didn't know her quite as well. Maybe no one else was as much of a jackass.

Frustrated, and more than just a little curious, at the very last moment after she passed, I reached out and grabbed a good grip on the end of her tail.

And it wrapped around my wrist in a vice-like death grip.

We both yelped, and I looked at her, wide-eyed. She snapped her head around to stare at me, frightened, then looked down at her tail squeezing my wrist - with incredible strength, I might add - and then looked back up at my face.

Within seconds the flood of emotions spread across her face, readable as clear as if she came with cue cards. Shock at being grabbed, recognition that it was me, then anger. She slapped my face.

I took the slap, my mouth still open in shock, so that when she hit me a small

pop

sound came out. In any other circumstance it may have ben comical.

I watched Natalia's face. It wasn't done giving away her emotions. As her tail uncoiled itself from my wrist, she grew flush and red in the face. Instantly tears began welling in her eyes.

Shaking her head, the first sobs coming out, she whispered, her voice hoarse, "How could you?" She turned and went past the bathroom door and left through a side door to the house.

I stood there, dumbly, looking down at my hand and feeling the sting of her slap. "I only wanted to know how it worked," I said quietly after the door had already closed behind her. With no one around, I suddenly realized that perhaps I was trying to convince myself.

Gathering my wits - or what was left of them - I tore after Natalia.

"Wait! Wait!" I called.

She was making a bee-line for her car, though, and I could see that if I didn't get to her quickly she would drive away and the likelihood of being able to make things right was going to be next-to-impossible.

She stood next to her car, and began patting down the catsuit, but as there were no pockets she started to realize that she didn't have her keys. Frustrated, she through her hands up in the air and placed them on top of her head.

As sexy as she was, and as hot as that suit made her, she had lived most of her life like a tomboy and as she began pacing back and forth the feminine quality of the catsuit was far less apparent.

I came up to her just as she was covering her face with her hands, crying. "How could you?" she repeated.

"I'm sorry - " I said, but hearing my own voice out loud made me realize that an apology wasn't going to cut it.

"You of all people... I thought you... would

respect

..." she broke off, her eyes red with anger. I thought she was going to hit me again.

"Natalia, I - "

She cut me off. "Are you happy now? Great. So you've found my big secret. Why don't you go and tell everyone? Have a grand old laugh at my expense."

"Wait, no, I - "

"What, then?" she demanded. "What do you want?" She paused, and her lower lip began quivering. I don't know why, but that really made it difficult to answer her.

"Why couldn't you just leave me alone?" she said, more quietly now.

"Natalie," I said, not sure what to say. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I just wanted to see how it worked."

"So what?" she said, angry again. "No one else in there 'needed to know how it worked.'" She said the last part of her sentence in a mocking tone, mimicking my voice in a lower, sing-song voice.

She was right, of course. No one else in the party had made any attempt to grab her or her costume. I felt like a total schmuck.

So, boys and girls, I want to tell you right now that generally speaking, when you get drunk and do things that you're embarrassed about, you can and will make mistakes. Most of the time those mistakes cannot be fixed. But, you'll try anyway, and you'll give it your best shot. You'll try to get out everything you possibly can in as short a time as possible to explain yourself, hoping against hope that it will make everything better.

It won't, and you'll look like a total tool in the process, likely making things worse, but you'll try it anyway.

And that's exactly what I did.

"Natalie, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I couldn't keep my eyes off you all evening and I've liked you for so long and when I saw you tonight I kept fighting how much I wanted to touch you and then I had too much to drink so when I thought you had come up with a way to move the tail and I couldn't figure out how you did it I just lost all self-control and had to touch you and I'm so so sorry."

It was at that point in time I took a breath, having completely run out of air, and held it as I waited for her to slap me again. I wouldn't have stopped her if she decided that I needed a good two or three slaps, come to think of it.

Instead, she just blinked at me, and said, "Wow."

And there it was. The feeling of being an idiotic tool began to sweep over me in waves.

"You like me?" she asked.

This was

not

what I was expecting her to say. Now it was my turn to blink uncomprehendingly. "Um, yeah," I said, unprepared for her shift in focus. "Wait, you didn't know?"

She shook her head. "Of course not, Kyle," she said. "You're always going out with other women."

"I've been going out with other women because I didn't think

you

were interested," I said. "You seemed to want me in the Friend Zone, so I... I don't know... I just thought that's what you wanted."

Her face softened, and out of the corner of my eye I saw the end of her tail flinch. She noticed what had captured my attention and suddenly became anxious.

Whatever 'moment' that was about to begin between us burst like a bubble. "Yeah, well, I've got to go," she said, and made a move to get back to the house to get her car keys.

"Wait, Natalia," I said, and reached for her arm. "Please don't go."

She stopped and turned to face me. "It doesn't matter now," she said. She turned her head slightly towards her tail.

"Why not?" I asked. "I still like you, I still enjoy being with you, and I still want to spend more time with you."

Her jaw set, as she played this out in her head. "Why, because you have a 'freaky side?'" she mocked. There was something going on with her emotions that I was only beginning to uncover.

I shook my head. "What? No, I - "

"Look, Kyle," she said, standing up tall and defiant. "Don't think that just because you caught me off guard and emotional that you need to do me any favors. I don't need your pity."

This burst of steam seemed to dissipate with that, though, and she seemed to deflate a little.

"Natalia," I said quietly and slowly. I wanted to get back to the place where we had started to go moments before. "I've liked you since I met you. I love talking with you and want to spend time with you. I thought all of this

before

I even knew how god-damned sexy you were." I waved my hand up and down to indicate her body.

She considered this for a moment, and then came closer and placed her hands on my chest. It was at that moment I realized just how tiny she was, the top of her head coming up just below my chin. Her hands were freezing, and I was suddenly reminded that all I had on was a loose fitting pirate blouse. I shivered.

She must have thought that I was flinching, expecting to be slapped again. She tilted her head up to reach for me, and I leaned in to kiss her. Despite the coldness in her fingers, her mouth was deliciously warm, her lips soft and enveloping. I wrapped my arms around her back, and pulled her close to me and began kissing her in earnest.

Without warning I felt a strong rope around the small of my back and pull me into her body. Immediately I realized it was her tail as it began to caress my back a little, and I stiffened at the unexpected sensation.

She broke the kiss and looked into my eyes, searching for some sign that this was all a big tease. She obviously wasn't sure if I was being 100% honest with her.

"Don't fuck with my head, Kyle," she said, but her tone wasn't menacing. It was pleading.

I tried to smile reassuringly, but I was still getting used to the extra appendage touching my back. I honestly don't know how successful I was at reassuring her. Nevertheless, her body pressed against me was so delicious, and I was finally able to run my own hands over her catsuit and the tight body underneath. I was reacting to her caress, and I'm sure she felt my body responding. Covered only by thin lycra, her nipples poked my chest at the same time.

I kissed her again, but this time she broke the kiss a little early. "Let's go," she said in a determined voice. "Let's see just how much you like me. Take me to my place."

She took my hand and pulled me away from her car and towards mine. She got in the passenger seat and I started to drive. I glanced over and I looked at her watching me. Her tail, which she must have been sitting on, was poking out between her legs and resting upon her left thigh.

I had so many questions, but I had learned that she was a bit more unpredictable than I had thought, even given how much I thought I knew her as friends.

"You want to ask, don't you?" she asked. I glanced over at her, finding it difficult to stay focused on the driving. Her voice had taken on an odd quality, almost one of a slightly flirtatious character but still being guarded enough to hold off judgment on how trustworthy I was going to turn out to be.

"Of course," I answered. "I think it's only natural to be curious."

She considered this for a moment. "Okay," she finally consented. "What would you like to know?"

Where would I start? I had so many questions going through my head that I couldn't seem to figure out which one should be the first one.

Sensing my hesitation, she said, "I'll tell you what. I'll tell you a little bit and then you can ask what comes naturally, okay?"

"Sure," I said. "That seems fair." It did, too. At least this would give me an idea of what kinds of questions were going to be on-limits.

"Let's start at the beginning," she said. "I was born with a tail, but it wasn't this long at first. As I grew, so did my tail."

She paused, looking at me expectantly. That was short, but it did give me a starting point. "How much control do you have?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Well, I don't exactly know what you could consider 'normal,'" she said. She watched her tail lift off her lap and begin moving around, snake-like. She coiled and uncoiled the visible part of her tail, almost as if she were testing it herself. "It has its own properties, and I don't really have anything to compare it to. It's quite flexible, and it can also be pretty strong. Don't expect me to do any party tricks for you, though."

I looked at her, but I could see by the smirk on her face that while she was serious, she was also starting to feel more like herself around me.

"How sensitive is it?" I asked.

"It's about as sensitive as a finger, I suppose, but a little different," she started mulling it over, and I could see that the scientist side was beginning to think about how to test her tail's sensitivity. "I mean, part of the problem is that you never really know how sensitive a part of your body is until something or someone else touches it. Sort of like tickling yourself, you know?"