These days, I hardly recognize myself.
Growing up, she had always been perfectly average. Never too skinny or too fat, neither short nor tall, and rarely looked particularly cute or ugly. Even through her college years, Natalie had been rather nondescript. While other young adults blossomed into their own unique personas and aesthetics, she played things safe. It had gotten her nowhere. What few romantic opportunities came her way were just as vanilla. Reasonably nice guys doing their best in bed, usually giving her a night of mild amusement and satisfaction. Over the years, it had all grown rather dull.
While she had always desired a different, more exciting life, the catalyst for change had come at a painfully steep price.
A family road trip after her college graduation had been like all the others over the years. A long drive to go ski in the mountains always came with inherent risks, and her family was familiar with the dangers of mountain travel in the winter.
In truth, she had no memory of the accident itself, which was a small blessing. The aftermath, however, had been as devastating as one could possibly imagine. Natalie had awoken in the hospital a month after her family's car had slid off the highway and into a valley. Her parents were dead by the time first responders managed to reach them. Natalie had been told it happened so fast that they likely didn't suffer. A microscopic silver lining.
Natalie had been knocked unconscious, and was kept in a medically induced coma to give her broken body even a remote chance of healing. What few friends and extended family she had had watched over her in the hospital, receiving updates from a variety of doctors working to revive Natalie. At first, the news had been dire: she'd potentially never awake. Then, leaves of optimism floated in one by one. She'd likely wake up, but would probably be paralyzed. She was showing feeling in her extremities, but brain function was still uncertain. Brain waves looked normal but she might have significant amnesia.
Ultimately, Natalie awoke. She was still in immense pain and physically fragile, but that paled in comparison to the news that she had no more immediate family. Just like that, Natalie had lost what little sense of identity she had. A person is a reflection of those they kept closest to. Natalie had been incredibly close with her family. In the blink of an eye, she now had no one, and was no one.
In that sense, Natalie had suddenly been reborn, for better or worse.
The months of intensive physical therapy had been brutal. Slowly, she relearned how to walk, talk and take care of herself. Her body healed, and the daily strain gave a her a physique and strength she had never possessed before the accident.
Grief counseling had been just as painful, but she eventually grew to accept the hand she'd been dealt. Her life was irrevocably changed in a terrible way, but the best way to honor her loved ones would be to live a fulfilling and happy life. A nascent sense of unique identity began to form in her head.
Regaining friendships had been tough. She had very few close friends to begin with, and even they struggled to see Natalie as anything more than a tragic case.
As she began to reintegrate into society, the loneliness didn't surprise her. In fact, she found it invigorating. Few twenty-somethings could truly reinvent themselves to the extent Natalie was now able to -- now had to. There was no sense in being the same safe girl she had been. She had no one to impress. While she wanted to honor her deceased parents, she wasn't spiritual enough to believe they were watching over her shoulder.
What did she really want out of life? What did she want to be?
She wanted to feel something. She became Natalia.
She felt the name was sexier, a trait she had found herself sorely lacking in her old life. She had always felt a pang of jealousy towards girls she knew in college: the ones that dressed as slutty nurses or cats at parties, and hooked up with the guys on the football and basketball teams. In private, they'd always brag about their conquests, and the mind-blowing orgasms they received from the most well-hung men on campus. She wasn't sure if she'd ever had an orgasm, and she'd certainly never had her mind blown.
It seemed like a natural starting point. Natalia's first goal in her new life was to experience the kind of sexual pleasure that she figured would further open her eyes to all the possibilities life had to offer.
She found herself browsing porn regularly, her eyes often drawn to the types of guys her college friends gushed about. Eventually, she landed on Blacked.com.
She was immediately hooked.
The hulking physical specimens, dark skin rippling with muscles, highlighted by oil and camera lighting that painted them as Greek gods. The women, somehow both vixenish and nubile, exuded a self-confidence that mixed intoxicatingly with a desire to subject themselves to the will of the men in front of them.
And the cocks. Natalia found herself staring open mouthed at the black dicks, each one hanging like pendulums between the men's ripped legs. Some were long and thin, which Natalia imagined touching places within her she had never dreamed of exploring. Others were thick and veiny, surely capable of stretching her pussy to its breaking point. No matter the shape, every woman in the videos seemed to be experiencing a transcendental sexual thrill, which Natalia experienced secondhand as she watched the beautiful contrast of black studs plunging their massive dark cocks into the supple white holes of the gorgeous women who seemed to worship them. Sure, Natalia knew that the women were actors, but it was hard to believe they could be so convincing as to make a benign experience look that fulfilling.
Natalia's mind was set. She needed a big black cock.
A few weeks on from that statement of intent, Natalia stood in front of the mirror, marveling at who she had become.
I'm fucking hot, aren't I?
Natalia stood confidently at 5'7" -- 5'11" in the black stilettos she wore now -- as she examined her outfit for the night.
Long, pale, toned legs ran upwards endlessly toward the edge of her skintight black dress. Were she to bend over even the slightest, the minidress would easily surrender a glimpse of her tight ass and the hot pink g-string that left little to the imagination.
Perfect, she thought, testing her range of motion. She couldn't do much without exposing herself.
As her eyes ran up the mirror, her hourglass figure looked as though it had been chiseled by a sculptor. She had spent hours every week in the gym perfecting her core and legs, and the dress was certainly showing the fruits of her labor. Cutouts on either side of the dress showed off her sleek obliques, and gave another opportunity to showcase her perfectly porcelain skin against the black dress -- a thinly veiled metaphor for what she was looking for tonight.
Her eyes, as she hoped the men would be, were drawn to her chest. For all of Natalie's averageness, she had certainly been endowed with an incredible set of tits, though she had gone to great lengths to hide that fact throughout her adolescence. The firm 28DDs sat high against the sweetheart neckline of the dress, which plunged scandalously close to her bellybutton.
If my ass doesn't get me groped, these should get the job done, she thought with a sly smirk.
The smirk was the perfect expression on her masterpiece of a face. One benefit of the accident was the need for significant reconstructive surgery to repair a number of facial fractures. The surgeons had absolutely earned their money. Everything about her face screamed seduction, amplified by makeup that further accentuated her light complexion.
Everything a black stud could dream of, she hoped.
Lastly, she gave a quick tug on her wig, this one a curled, dirty blonde number. Good wigs certainly weren't cheap, but they'd been the quickest way to bring Natalia into the world, replacing the plain, straight brunette hair that had once belonged to Natalie, which she has unceremoniously chopped down to a boyish pixie cut. She had amassed a decent collection of wigs at this point, ranging from a jet black mane that stretched to her waist, to a neon blue bob she had used for some online pictures of her in cosplay, a newfound hobby that both made her money and helped to refine her makeup skills.
I mean, I'd fuck me.
Pleased with her ensemble for the evening, Natalia grabbed a matching black clutch and headed for the door. Her Uber had just pulled up outside her apartment, ready to take her to the club and, hopefully, the perfect black man who would show her a good time.
