Milf Hunter: Seducing And Taming Beauties

Chapter 701: The Toilet Incident

Natalya pushed the wheelchair toward the bathroom, her movements stiff, her knuckles white around the handles. The air between us crackled with tension, the memory of our earlier exchange still hanging heavy in the silence.

The bathroom was still damp from her shower, the floor glistening under the fluorescent lights. My gaze flicked to the counter—and froze.

A black lace bra and matching panties were draped over the sink, the same ones Natalya had been wearing earlier. The sight sent a jolt through me, and I couldn’t help but stare for a second too long.

Natalya followed my gaze and stiffened instantly. "Close your eyes," she snapped, her voice sharp with sudden panic. "Now!"

I obeyed without hesitation, shutting my eyes tight. Behind me, I heard her move quickly—the rustle of fabric, the soft sound of her snatching up the lingerie. A moment later, her voice came again, slightly breathless. "You can open your eyes."

I did. The bra and panties were gone, tucked away out of sight. Natalya stood behind me, her arms crossed defensively over her chest, her cheeks flushed a deep pink. She avoided my gaze, her jaw clenched.

Without a word, she wheeled me in front of the toilet and helped me stand. I steadied myself against her shoulder, then glanced at her. "Boss... can you turn around?"

Natalya’s eyes flicked up to mine, her expression unreadable. "Why should I turn around?" she asked, her voice edged with frustration. "How can I help you if I turn around? You’re injured, Viper. Or did you forget that?"

Before I could respond, she reached for the hem of my patient’s gown, her fingers gripping the fabric. I quickly grabbed her hand, stopping her. "Boss, don’t—"

Her eyes flashed up to mine, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and something raw, something vulnerable. "You didn’t have a problem with the nurse willing to do that... but you have a problem with me?" Her voice cracked, her fingers tightening around the fabric.

I could see it then—the way her common sense had slipped, the way her jealousy had consumed her. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her breath unsteady, like she was on the verge of tears.

"Boss, you’re misunderstanding—" I started, but she cut me off.

"Misunderstanding?!" Natalya’s voice rose, sharp and trembling with a mix of frustration and something deeper—something that sounded almost like fear. "I saw the way you looked at her, Viper! Like she was something special! Like she was—" She cut herself off abruptly, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she struggled to rein in her emotions. Her hands clenched into tight fists, her knuckles turning white. "Like she was worth something!" she finally spat out, her voice cracking.

I reached out, gently gripping her wrist, my voice soft but firm. "Boss, you’re imagining things. There’s no one in this world but you. You’re the only one I see."

"Then prove it!" she snapped, her voice breaking with raw, unfiltered emotion. Her eyes were bright, almost feverish, as she glared at me. Without another word, she grabbed the waistband of my pajama bottoms and yanked them down in one swift, angry motion.

And then she froze.

Her breath hitched as she took in the sight of me—hard and throbbing, my cock already reacting to her touch, her proximity, the charged energy between us. Her eyes widened, her face flushing a deep, burning crimson that spread down her neck and ears.

"You—you pervert!" she stammered, quickly turning her head away, her hand flying up to cover her eyes.

"How can you—how are you even—?" Her voice was a tangled mix of shock, embarrassment, and something else—something she couldn’t quite hide. Something almost fascinated.

I tried to explain, my voice low and steady. "Boss, it’s not my fault. It’s just—"

"Then is it my fault?!" she demanded, whirling back to face me, her eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something far more vulnerable.

I nodded slightly, my voice gentle. "Boss... I’m a man. And it’s morning. This is just... a normal reaction when I’m around you."

Natalya took a shaky breath, her entire face and neck flushed a deep red. She looked away again, her fingers pressing against her temples as if she could will herself to disappear. "OK... Ok... just—just shut up and do your thing..." Her voice was barely above a whisper, trembling with embarrassment.

I adjusted myself and started peeing, the sound of my stream hitting the toilet water filling the small bathroom.

Natalya stood stiffly beside me, her back turned, her shoulders tense. I could almost feel the heat radiating off her, her embarrassment so palpable it was like a physical presence in the room.

After I finished, she asked quietly, her voice muffled, "Are you... done?"

I hummed in response, "Hmm."

Natalya moved back toward me, bending down and trying to pull my pajama bottoms up from behind. Her hands hesitated, not daring to move forward—my cock was still in the way, preventing the fabric from sliding up smoothly. "Why isn’t it moving up?" she asked, her voice laced with annoyance and a hint of frustration.

I chuckled softly, reaching down to adjust myself. "Boss, I can do it myself now..."

I grabbed the pajama bottoms and tucked my cock inside, pulling the fabric up to my waist. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Natalya peeking from behind, her cheeks flushing even more as she realized why the pajama hadn’t gone up smoothly.

She quickly averted her eyes, pretending she hadn’t noticed anything, but the deep blush spreading across her face gave her away.

She didn’t say anything, ignoring it completely, but she helped me sit back down in the wheelchair. As she pushed me toward the sink, she helped me wash my hands, even going so far as to dry them gently with a towel.

The way she fussed over me, her movements careful and tender, made her look like a devoted wife caring for her husband.

The thought made my chest tighten. I wanted to pull her close, to feel her lips against mine, her body pressed against me, to tell her everything I felt but couldn’t say out loud.

I looked at her, my voice soft and filled with genuine affection. "Thank you, Boss..."

Natalya’s hands stilled for a moment, her breath hitching slightly. She glanced at me, her eyes reflecting a storm of emotions—embarrassment, concern, and something softer, something almost tender. "You don’t have to thank me," she muttered, her voice barely audible. "It’s my job to take care of you as your Boss."

I reached out, gently taking her hand in mine, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. "No, Boss," I said, my voice low and sincere. "It’s not just your job. It’s you."

Natalya’s breath caught, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at me. For a moment, she seemed frozen, caught between her fierce independence and the vulnerability she rarely showed. Then, slowly, she squeezed my hand back, her fingers trembling just slightly.