0 comments/ 419061 views/ 25 favorites Skin to Skin By: matharasi 18 year old Ravi was in great thrill. His Mother, Malathi, who was working as a Nurse in Kuwait was coming on vacation that day, after 3 long years. He was ready in early morning itself to go to the airport to receive her. His Father, an Army man, was working in Kashmir. Ravi, the only Son of his parents, was staying with his Paternal Grandfather, a 75 year old man. Ravi was in his second year of college. Seeing Ravi's excitement his Grandfather commented, "Ravi, don't you even want to have breakfast?" Ravi said "I am so excited to see my Mother and to see the gifts my Mother will be bringing for me, that I don't feel any hunger at all". His Grandfather said lovingly, "Malathi is really lucky to have such a loving Son who loves his Mother more than anything in the world". But only Ravi was knowing the REAL REASON behind his excitement. His own Mother Malathi, a 46 year old plump woman, with big boobs, large thighs and bulging buttocks, was the sole object for his jack off fantasies since he was 15, for the past three years. The last time his Mother came on leave, by chance Ravi had seen his Mother in a state of semi undress, in bra and underskirt, and even though the accidental view lasted only a few seconds, and that too without his Mother knowing it, his Mother's voluptuous body was deeply rooted in his mind and since then his every day jack off was fuelled by erotic and perverted thoughts about his Mother. Ravi had a picture of his Mother dressed in saree, standing with one of her colleagues, taken at Kuwait, in his table top. That picture was sent by his Mother last year. Ravi had persuaded his Grandfather to enlarge the photo, and to frame it for keeping in his table top. His Grandfather immediately obliged, thinking about the love Ravi was having for his Mother. But little did his Grand Father know the real purpose behind enlarging the photo. Every day Ravi used to look at his Mother's picture and fantasize while jerking off. He would imagine his Mother standing in front of him in light green saree and same coloured blouse, the same dress she was wearing in the photo and he standing beside his Mother, one hand squeezing his Mother's big buttocks and the other hand feeling his Mother's cunt through the saree. In other fantasy his Mother will be standing with her back to him and he will stand behind his Mother, lift his Mother's saree, lower her panties and fuck his Mother in her asshole. One of his favourite fantasies was to imagine his Mother, dressed in saree, but with it raised to her hips, panties lowered to her knees, standing and pissing strongly and he watching his Mother's piss gushing out of her cunt, close-up. The perverted fantasies which he had about his own Mother, and that too looking at his Mother's fully dressed innocent photo, really made him get mad with lust and he would madly jack off his cock, and when his cum squirted out of his cock, he would utter utmost indecent obscenities about his own Mother. His Grandfather would have died on the spot with a heart attack if he had ever heard his Grand Son saying the unthinkable dirty words about his own Mother, looking at her photo and jerking his cock so wildly, like it will come off. The flight had landed when Ravi and his Grandfather reached the airport. While waiting for his Mother to check out and come, Ravi's heart was beating fast. He was slightly sweating with anticipation. At last, his object of lust, his own Mother, is coming to him. When the first passengers started coming out, Ravi edged forward, close to the way they are coming out. His Grandfather patted on his back and said, "My Dear, your Mother will certainly come out, she will not go back, don't you worry". The old man was thinking about the Son's love to see his Mother. Little did he know about the feelings going on inside Ravi's perverted mind about his own Mother. After some time, Ravi's impatient wait ended. He saw his Mother Malathi walking out, pushing a trolley, in which her luggage was stacked. Immediately Ravi noticed that his Mother had become more plump and voluptuous. The rich, luxurious food she used to have at Kuwait, had done its job. His Mother's boobs had become more fat, her hips had sexy rolls on both sides, and his Mother's ass was thrusting out more. Ravi rushed forward and pushing the trolley out of his way, he hugged his Mother. The smell of the perfume which his Mother had sprayed on her body, plus his Mother's own sweet smell made him crazy. His Mother lovingly hugged Ravi to her in a purely Motherly way. Putting his right hand through his Mother's shoulders, Ravi led her to the car. The car driver put the luggage in the dickey and they started their way to their house. Ravi sat with his Mother in the back of the car and his Grandfather sat at the front. Just being close to his voluptuous Mother made Ravi's cock throb inside his pants. All the way to their house, his Mother enquired about his studies and other things. Ravi replied to his Mother as if in a trance, his mind too much occupied with his constant lust towards his own Mother. He was staring at his Mother without anyone's notice. The way his Mother's big boobs jutting out, his Mother's fleshy hip with its rolls, her big thighs rubbing along his thighs, all made Ravi's cock throb like mad inside his pants. Within one hour they reached their house. On reaching, his Grandfather told Ravi's Mother to have a bath and get fresh. When she went to her room, Ravi rushed to his room. His mind was full of his Mother's sexy image. Closing his door, Ravi took out his jerking cock and stared masturbating madly, thinking about his own Mother. He did not took long. Being with his voluptuous Mother for a short period itself had the effect on him that his cock started jetting cum. When his boiling cum jetted out, he moaned out, "Aahhhh!!!! I am spreading Mother's big ass, aaahhhhh!!!! Mother's asshole, ughhhh!!! I am licking Mother's asshole, licking, licking, fucking Mother's buttery asshole, fucking deep into Mother's hot asshole, AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!". The dirty words about his own Mother made his climax more mind-blowing and his cum jetted out long. Within a short time his Mother came out of her room fresh, dressed in a light blue gown and in that gown his Mother looked more sexy. They all had breakfast together. Ravi purposefully sat opposite his Mother, so that he can look at his Mother's body. He kept the expression in his face that of a loving Son looking at his Mother with pure love. But nobody knew that behind that 'loving Son' look Ravi was having a lust crazed look at his Mother. His Mother's big boobs straining inside her black bra, was clearly visible through the blue nightgown she was wearing. Ravi, keeping the innocent look on his face, feasted his eyes on his Mother's big boobs. All the while they were having breakfast, Ravi was thinking about his Mother's big boobs, her fleshy thighs and mostly about her cunt, his own birthplace. He wondered whether his Mother's cunt would be having hair or not. When he imagined about his Mother's cunt snuggled between her thighs, his cock again started hardening inside his underwear. After breakfast, his Mother started her Kuwaiti news. Ravi, still with the look of the loving Son on his face, listened to his Mother's words and at the same time was looking all over her body with sharp eyes. During the rest of the day, Ravi was full time with his Mother. Whenever she was walking inside the house, Ravi continuously followed her. His main purpose of being with his Mother around the house was to watch his Mother's big asscheeks moving and rolling sexily inside her gown. His Mother's ass was plump and it was thrusting out and straining against the gown so much that Ravi could clearly see the outline of his Mother's panties through the silky gown. The way his Mother's big ass was moving inside her gown made Ravi's cock throb strongly inside his underwear. Ravi felt jealousy towards his Mother's panties for being able to cover that butter-like big ass in the backside and also to cover his Mother's cunt at the front. Judging by his Mother's large proportions, Ravi was sure that his Mother's lovely cunt would be plump and fat. His hands itched to squeeze his Mother's fat cunt, his tongue longed to taste his Mother's cunt juices and his cock throbbed with desire to fuck his own Mother's cunt. After having lunch, when everyone retired to their rooms for a short nap, Ravi jacked off again thinking about his own Mother. He thought that if spending hardly half day with his Mother can make him jack off twice, by the time his Mother goes back after her leave, he would have to masturbate a thousand times. Ravi decided to look around for ways to at least see his Mother in the nude. Ravi's and his Mother's rooms were on the first floor and his Grandfather was living on the ground floor. Ravi worked out different ideas to see his Mother naked. He almost decided to peep through the keyhole of his Mother's room, but again decided it would be too risky. Finally he decided to go ahead and try a seemingly successful idea. The bathroom-cum-toilet on the first floor where Ravi and his Mother was staying was having a two-piece door and Ravi decided to make a small gap near to the bottom of the door in between the two pieces. When decided, Ravi could not just stay in his room. Making sure that everyone is having their afternoon sleep; Ravi immediately went to the storeroom and found out a screw driver. He quickly began working on the door hardly two feet from the floor and within half an hour Ravi managed to make a small gap in between the two-piece door of the bathroom. He kneeled down and peeped through the small gap. He could clearly see the inside of the bathroom, both the bath area and the adjacent Indian style closet. To make sure whether the gap is visible from the inside, Ravi double-checked from the inside and was relieved to note that the gap is not at all visible either from the inside or from the outside, since it was very much down and to notice that anyone had to kneel down. Once the gap was made, Ravi just could not wait till night, so that his Mother will have a body bath at night before sleep. During the evening, Ravi was again with his Mother, feasting on her body without anyone's notice. During dinner, Ravi could hardly have any food because his mind was keen and eager to watch his Mother's naked body. He managed to eat something. After dinner and watching some TV, Ravi retired to his room upstairs, closed his door, but his ears was keenly listening to the sound of his Mother coming up. His wait did not last long. After some chat with his Grandfather, Ravi's Mother came up. When he listened to his Mother's footsteps climbing up, Ravi's heart started beating fast in anticipation. He listened eagerly for signs that his Mother is about to have her bath. After hardly about 10 minutes, Ravi heard his Mother's door opening and he understood that his Mother is going for her bath. Waiting for one more minute to let his Mother enter and lock the bathroom, Ravi silently opened his door and slipped out. He could not hear any sound from the bathroom. Within seconds Ravi was kneeling in front of the bathroom door and with his heart beating wildly, he peeped through the gap he had made. Holding his breath he looked. Inside light was on and in the bright light he saw that his Mother has just started removing her gown. Ravi just could not believe that at last he was going to see his own Mother naked. Inside the bathroom, not knowing that her own Son is looking at her, Ravi's Mother was undressing. With lust-crazed eyes, Ravi watched his Mother remove her blue nightgown. Now his Mother had a white underskirt and a black bra, which was straining out with her big boobs. By this time itself, Ravi's cock was jerking wildly inside his pyjama. His Mother now reached back, unhooked and removed her black bra and her big boobs sprang forward and then with its weight, dropped down slightly. Ravi watched eagerly through the gap. His Mother hanged the bra along with the gown in the cloth rod and then untied the knot of her underskirt and removed it by pulling it over her head. Good God!!!!. Ravi shivered with lust on seeing his plump Mother standing in just white panties. Her asscheeks thrust out and her plump belly had a slight roll. Her fleshy hips had a few rolls on both sides, which Ravi found very much sexy. She turned to Ravi's side before removing her panties and Ravi saw his Mother's plump, fat cunt filling out her panties at the front. His Mother's panty covered cunt was just like what he saw in his numerous fantasies. Seconds later, his Mother hooked her fingers in her panties and removed the panties down. When she removed her panties and straightened up, Ravi saw for the first time, with wide-open eyes, his own Mother's cunt. His own Mother's, plump, fat cunt!!!. His Mother's cunt was clean-shaven and it swelled out from between her thighs. In the kneeling position, Ravi took out his rock hard cock and slowly caressed it watching his own Mother's naked body. He was afraid to even slightly jerk on his cock for fear of cumming immediately. Such was the effect his Mother's naked body was having on Ravi. Hanging her panties also along with other cloths, Ravi's Mother turned her back towards him. Just when Ravi thought his direct view of his Mother's cunt is over, to his sheer delight, he saw his Mother moving towards the closet. The few steps to the closet, his view of his naked Mother was from side ways. Still, the sight of his Mother's slightly protruding belly, and her out thrust ass was very erotic to Ravi. Reaching the toilet, his Mother again turned toward him and sat down on the toilet. Watching this Ravi understood that his Mother is about to piss. Countless times Ravi had fantasized about watching his Mother piss. Now his fantasy was about to become reality. Because his Mother was sitting in the Indian style closet, in squatting position, Ravi could see in the bright light that his Mother's shaven cunt had opened up, revealing a bright red cunt slit. Breathless, Ravi watched with sharp eyes. Within seconds urine started gushing out of his Mother's open cunt. Because of the pin drop silence, Ravi could clearly hear the hissing sound of his Mother's urine gushing out from her cunt lips. Ravi went mad with lust, watching his Mother sitting in the closet and pissing. His Mother's pissing went on for some time and then her piss dribbled to a thin flow, then finally stopping. Even after finishing pissing, his Mother did not get up from the closet. Ravi's mind was racing with perverted thoughts. When he saw his Mother holding her breath and applying pressure on her stomach, Ravi understood that his Mother had to shit also. "My God!!! Mother is going to shit in front of me!!!!. I am going to watch my own Mother shit close up!!!!" his thoughts came out of his mouth in a slow, quick whisper. Ravi's Mother held her breath and continued applying pressure on her stomach and open mouthed, Ravi watched his beautiful Mother's asshole open up and a long, loud fart came out of his Mother's asshole, followed by the first turd. His Mother's asshole opened up more and the turd came out for a full six inches long, before breaking up and falling down to the closet. Another long fart came out from his Mother's asshole. A few more long turds came out of his Mother's asshole. Watching his own Mother shit in front of him in tight close up, seeing the golden turds coming out of his Mother's most private place and hearing his own Mother fart loudly, was too much for Ravi. Never before in his life was he excited this much. A scene, which he couldn't even imagine he will ever see in his life, was happening right before his eyes. His own plump, sexy beautiful Mother, sitting and taking a shit in front of him!!!. By the time his Mother finished shitting, without even jacking, Ravi's cock jerked wildly and his thick cum started jetting out. When he felt himself cumming, Ravi jacked off madly and he felt like he will die out of pleasure. Even though that was his third cum of the day, his cock spewed out cum like he had not cum for a whole week. Ravi felt as if his life itself had gone out through his cock, and he rested for a while and quickly cleaned up the cum from the front of the bathroom door. Dead tired he was, but still he remained there till his Mother washed up her asshole and then had a body bath. He remained there watching, until his Mother finished her body bath and again put on fresh cloths. Just before his Mother came out of the bathroom, Ravi quickly came back to his room and silently closed the door. His mind was full of the images of his own Mother's plump, naked body. He decided to find out a way to fuck his Mother. He realized that if he doesn't fuck his Mother, he would go mad with his lust for her. Ravi's days and nights went ahead as if he was born to masturbate. His Mother Malathi's presence was having such an electrifying effect on him that every moment he spent was fantasizing about his sexy, plump, Mother. Every day he jacked off fantasizing about his sexy Mother. Every day he peeked his own Mother Malathi having bath, pissing and shitting and his lust for his Mother tripled day by day. One day his Grand Father went to his native place, leaving Ravi and his Mother alone in their house. Ravi was ecstatic in knowing that for the next 10 days he shall be alone with his own sexy Mother Malathi. He decided to try the ultimate; to try and fuck his own Mother. While leaving, his Grand Father told Ravi to take care of his Mother. Ravi replied eagerly that he will take care of his Mother by all means. Both his Grand Father and his Mother laughed at his eagerness in replying. His Mother looked lovingly at her Son. Ravi spent the first day alone with his Mother thinking of different ways to approach his Mother. But he could not come to a decision. How can a Son approach his Mother in any way to try to fuck her?? Ravi's mind worked hard. But however hard he tried, he could not find a way to even try to seduce his Mother. He felt sure that his Mother, spending long years in Kuwait alone, might be really longing for a fuck. Finding no way, he again resorted to peeking into his Mother's bathroom and jacking off. The next morning, when his Mother went to the bathroom for having her bath, Ravi got into his Mother's room. This time, he wanted to try something new. He wanted to try to get one of the used panties of his Mother and smell his own Mother's panties and enjoy the smell of his Mother's cunt juices. He was not sure whether his Mother will leave her panties in the bedroom and go to the bathroom with a fresh one. He had indeed seen, while peeking through the hole in the bathroom door, that sometimes his Mother left her used panties in the bedroom and take a fresh one inside, to wear after bath. Slowly he entered into the bedroom and searched among the used cloths dumped in the corner for washing. Even though he could hear the sound of water falling into the bucket from inside the bathroom, his heart was beating rapidly and he looked nervously towards the bathroom door. Within a minute of searching, to his delight, Ravi found what he was looking for. A blue panties, lying under an underskirt. With trembling fingers Ravi took his Mother's used blue panties and brought it to his nose. He inhaled deeply. Aaahhh!!! The sweet, erotic smell of his Mother's cunt juices was coming strongly from the panties. His cock rose its head immediately and started to throb inside his pyjamas. Holding his Mother's panties in his left hand and smelling the same, Ravi took out his cock with his right hand and started jacking off. He was so involved in jacking off, that he did not heard the bathroom door open and his Mother coming in to the bedroom. Skin to Skin Author's Note: First off, I am a sick, sick, sick and perverted puppy. LOL! "Skin To Skin" is a story that I've written after a friend of mine asked me to write this tale, numerous times. Disclaimer: I am going to make this a "short and sweet" warning. I do not condone, support or find enjoyment in sexual acts that are forced and non-consensual. Also, if you are a member/fan/an avid reader, here at Literotica, who doesn't find acts of xenophobia or interracial sexual acts appealing, then this story is definitely not for you. For the people who are reading this story: I hope you find some source of entertainment in this story. I would like to thank all of the readers, for taking out the time from your days to read my little ole' story. Comments, suggestions, constructive criticism and questions are welcome and encouraged. *************** "I, so fuckin' hate you right now, Lynn," I declared with a tinged of amusement in my voice. At that moment, I was glaring at the source of my ire, my best friend of twenty-two years, Lenora, or "Lynn" as I affectionately call her. Lynn was sitting on the other side of the backseat of the taxi cab that we were riding inside of. She was sitting sideways in her seat, the side of her head was resting against the back of the black leather seat and she was facing me. With her bright, ruby-colored hair was surrounding her as if it was a halo made of fire. The gold sequined dress that she wore also made her look ethereal. Her gold-colored eyes didn't contain their usual alertness; they were glazed over, an obvious sign that my buddy was drunk. Actually, she was more 'tipsy' than drunk. "No, you don't, bitch" Lynn mumbled with her eyes still focused on the seat. "You fuckin' love me!" she declared, with slurred speech. Okay, my friend was drunk. "No, I don't love you," I joked. I have no idea why I was playing a one-person, game of 'mind-fuck' with a drunken person, in the back of a cab, but there I was. "Yes, you do and I could prove it!" Before I could say anything else to her, Lynn had reached over the backseat and planted a sloppy kiss on my left cheek. "See?" she stated, as she sat back down in her seat, taking up the same position that she had before. "You do love me." I was about to delve into a long-winded lecture about how her sloppy ass kiss was not considered to be proof of how much I loved her, when I realized two things: 1) there was no point in trying to discuss a deep topic, like declarations of love, with a person that is inebriated. It's like trying to have a conversation with a crack head, about the theory of relativity. 2) When I taken a glance at Lynn, after I rubbed off the Bobbi Brown lip gloss that she smeared on my face, Lynn was asleep. So, I let the heifer sleep and I, on the other hand, decided to stare out the back passenger's window and watch the city of Manhattan pass us by. Eventually the activity of gazing out of the window had become mundane, so my mind began to drift and I started to think about the history that I shared with that sleeping, red-haired beauty. Lenora and I first met, when we both were three years old. Yep, back when we were three years old and we were still wearing Garanimals and our biggest accomplishment was being able to count up to the number 10. Both of us, at the time, were living in the same neighborhood. Well, actually, it was more like our families were living in the same apartment building that was a part of a housing project. The South Jamaica Housing Projects, located in Jamaica, Queens to be exact. Lenora, her mama Chiara and her older brother Malachi had lived in an apartment on the sixth floor while my mother and I had resided in an apartment on the second floor. Despite living in the same building for a few years, I didn't meet Lynn until her first day attending The Sunny Days-New Beginnings Pre-School, which is a day-care center that the majority of the toddlers and babies of the housing project's residents attended. I remember first setting eyes on Lynn (she wasn't facing me at the time) and I thought she was the cartoon character Strawberry Shortcake, because of her short, curly red hair. Then, our teacher had introduced us. I remember taking a glance at her eyes, seeing the eerie hazel color in them, thinking that she was a monster and I remember screaming and running away, which ended up making Lynn cry. And that's was the beginning of our friendship. Over the years, Lynn and I each have gone through some tough times and we always had each other to get through them. Whenever her mama's "douche bag-flavor of the month" boyfriend would get on Lynn's nerves and she needed to get away from all of that bullshit, she knew she could count on me. As well as the trundle that was underneath the day bed in my bedroom. When I was going through some tough times with my mom and I considered running away from home, Lynn was the person who persuaded me to stay. Back, when we were sixteen, Lynn wanted to make a visit to see her brother Malachi, during his first prison stint, but she didn't have the money, as well as, didn't have the resources to travel to Rikers Island. I helped my home girl out by giving her information about a private bus company that makes trips out there, to and from the prison. I also gave her money (I had an after-school job, at the time) to spend during her travels. Also, unbeknownst to Lynn and her mother, I was placing money inside of her brother's commissary account while he was incarcerated. I was also providing his other accounts that were created during all of his other prison stints. I wasn't the only person looking out for family members. Lynn was also there for my mother, during her weakest moments. When I was nineteen, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was during my mother's battle, the side-effects of her chemotherapy sessions were affecting her ability to do the everyday things, like grocery shopping and house work. Lynn had taken time out of her schedule to take care of those things for my mother, even though Lynn was a full-time college student and was working part-time. She would travel, everyday, from Manhattan to Brooklyn (where her job was located) and then trek out to Uniondale, Long Island (the location of my mother's new home), so she could take care of my mother. At the time, I was living in Virginia, attending Hampton University. So, while it was impossible for me to take care of my mother, during this time, Lynn was there for my mom everyday. The sound of the taxi driver's voice telling me the price of our journey back into Queens was the source that snapped me out of my trip down memory lane. "It's $56.23," the driver repeated, assuming that I didn't hear him the first time. I glanced out of the window quickly and noticed that we were indeed at the Ms. Patrick's split-level home. Tonight, Lynn and I decided to do one of our favorite childhood things, which were having a sleepover at her mother's house. Her mother is spending the next nine days on a cruise ship that is sailing around all of the islands in the Caribbean. She wanted Lynn to house-sit for her, even though Ms. Patrick's son lives with her. "Okay," I mumbled, as I pilfered though my clutch purse for the fifty-dollar and the ten-dollar bill that I knew was stored inside. As I stared at the contents inside of my purse and pushing objects aside with my right hand, I grabbed a hold of Lynn's knee and was shaking her to wake up, with my left hand. Once I found the folded up bills, I handed the money, along with a five dollar bill to the driver. "Lynn" I said, as I was shaking her leg. "Lynn, wake your ass up! We're home." Lynn sat upright in the backseat, leant up against the back of it and then mumbled something unintelligible. I began to shake her once again. "Lynn, get up, we're home!" "All right, all right," she said softly. "I'm awake and rearing to go." With her head still resting against the back of the seat, while facing the roof of the car, she managed to grab her belongings, open the door and then slowly, but surely made her exit out of the cab. I bid the cab driver a quick farewell and slipped out of the car. * 'Fourteen steps down and twenty-nine more to go,' I thought as I climbed. I climbed up, behind Lynn, up the slate-stoned steps that led to the front door of Lynn's mama's house. My hands were lightly resting on her hips as we went up the stairs. Slowly, but surely, we were making our way to the front door. Thanks to the low collar of my dress, I can feel one of my boobs are about to make an appearance, which is the last thing that I want to happen. "How are you feeling right now, Lynn? Do you think you can get up these stairs without my help, because I need to fix my dress, before my titty pops out," I inquired. "Why, no, ma'am, I don't need any assistance," Lynn joked, in a phony Southern accent, as she continued to climb up the stairs. I, on the other hand, had stopped and was standing on step number 22 while fixing the front of my dress. "Nice accent, Miss Scarlet," I said to her while making sure that I was still dressed appropriately. Lynn giggled. "Why thank you, Ethel Mae— "Ethel Mae, Lynn? You couldn't come up with a better name?" "I'm drunk! You're lucky that I could think at all!" she said to me, in the Southern accent, as she stared at the front door. "As matter of fact, why don't you call on one of those big black bucks that is working out in the fields to come up here and f----- "And do what, exactly?" said a deep masculine voice, whose owner was behind me. Both Lynn's and my back had become straight. A sense of dread had shivered down my spine and I refused to take a glance over my shoulder to take a peek at him. 'Shit,' is the first thing that popped up in my mind. I listened to the sounds of his construction boots slapping up against the chunky slabs of slate stone that were the steps. 'THUNK!' 'THUNK!' 'THUNK!' Eventually, his feet's journey had to come to a stop; because of my hoochie-mama looking ass was standing in his way. He was standing so close to me, parts of his clothing had lightly brushed against the exposed parts of my skin. I felt like something brush up against the back of my exposed right thigh and I shuddered. 'Take it easy girl,' I said to myself. The owner of that voice was standing close enough to me that I could smell a weird fragrance that was a combination of the faint smell of Irish Spring Soap, the strong presence of rusted metal and sweat. 'He must've gotten off of work,' I mentally concluded. "Where in the hell ya'll been, dress like this?" he asked, but I don't think he wanted either of us to answer that question. "I just heard Malachi's voice," Lynn proclaimed. "Chloe, did you just hear my brother too?" "Y-y-y-yeah," I stuttered. I could recognize his voice at any time or any place. "He's standing behind me..." I grimaced in reaction to the vocal flub. 'Way to go, C, you are starting to act like a dork'. My heart felt like it was trying to break out of my chest, my stomach felt like it was trying to climb out of my mouth and there was a delicious sensation that occurring inside of my nether regions. I am positive that I could be floating in the eye of a tornado and his voice could be loud as Big Ben's bell at noon. Malachi has one of those deep, baritone-panty dropping voices. He has the type of voice that should belong to one of those R&B radio deejays. Definitely not attach to a white man. 'Get it together, Chlo.' I took a deep breath, hoping to beat down these raging hormones, but failing miserably and then I spoke to Lynn. "...and we're both waiting for you to hurry the hell up these stairs." Lynn had given me one of the hose haughty-filled snorts that she makes from time to time and she made her way up to the front door without tripping, fumbling or hurting herself. The feeling of relief had shot through me, once I was allowed to put some space between Malachi and me. But there was also a sense of disappointment as well. "I have to find my keys," Lynn murmured, as she searched through her own clutch purse. The tense feeling returned when I felt Malachi's imposing presence behind me once again. It's been close to seven months since I have last seen Malachi Patrick and I am amazed at how he still makes me feel. After waiting the time span of half of a minute for Lenora to find her keys, Malachi grew impatient. He impolitely brushed his 6'6 bulky frame past me to get to the front door. "Move," he said to his baby sister. His voice, despite its roughness, sounded gentle and less like a command. Lynn let out a snort and stepped away from the door. While he was trying to pull his set of keys from his jeans' pocket, I had taken advantage of the opportunity to enjoy the view. Like I mentioned before, I haven't seen Malachi in little bit over seven months ago. The last time I had seen him was at a Thanksgiving dinner at the Patrick Family home, so I didn't know whether or not if he was going to look the same or somewhat different. Especially ever since the last time I saw Malachi, he still had his red hair and he was sporting a few bruises, including a black eye on that particular visit. Thankfully, now, he was still handsome. Malachi was physical perfection in my eyes: he was tall at 6'6, heavily muscular, but he didn't have one of those Mister Olympian-body builder-gym rat-physiques, one of those abnormal physiques where he looks like he cannot fit through a doorway because he was so damn big. He had the type of body that could be found in an ancient Greek mural or on a statue. Tonight, Malachi decided to wear all black: a black leather jacket, black jeans with a pair of black leather Doc Martins. It definitely made his hair stand out even more. Malachi's original hair color was a deep shade of red, like his baby sister's hair color. But, now it was an extremely pale version of blonde; his hair appeared almost white. And like with most red-heads, as well as like his younger sister (who fake-bakes by the way), Malachi has that infamous porcelain-colored skin. With the combo of his pale skin and his light flaxen hair made his light gray eyes appear alien-like. As I was eye-fucking this man, something on his jacket had caught my attention. On Malachi's sleeve, there were patches. It has taken me a few seconds to realize that the patches were of Neo-Nazi insignias. My stomach's muscles flip-flopped, but for a different reason now and I am sure if it was possible, the color would've drain from my face. I was so busy staring at the patches on his leather jacket that I didn't notice that he glanced at me, at first. Once I stared at his face and noticed he was staring at me with a furrowed brow, I diverted my line of vision to the porch's floor. After unlocking the front door, Malachi, wordlessly, went inside of the house. "Oooh, I think Malachi is angry at us," Lynn stated, sarcastically, to me. "Whatever, let's go inside," I mumbled, feeling the sting that comes with being rejected, which was pretty goddamned weird. ********************** "So, your brother still believes in that bullshit?" I asked, shouting over the loud noise of the water hitting the base of the tub. I was scrubbing my back with a soap-filled sponge. I was taking a shower in the bathroom that was attached to the guest bedroom. Lynn was in the bedroom. "You mean that KKK, skin head bullshit? Unfortunately, yeah, he's still hanging out with those people!" "What does your mother think of it?" I asked. I know I am fishing for information while I am making my seventeen year-old crush more obvious. "My mom...ugh," Lynn growled in minor irritation. "He's her son and she loves him. When she sees Malachi, she doesn't see a hate-mongering deviant-sociopath, she sees her baby boy. To my ma, Malachi will always be a baby." "Does he brings his friends around here--- "Hell no," Lynn shouted. "If he did, my mama would beat the white off of his ass!" We both laughed at her joke. "But, he did bring a girl around here one time..." I felt a shiver of jealousy at the mere mention of Malachi with another woman. 'Look at you, getting jealous of some chick. Malachi doesn't want you! You're not the right skin color for him,' my conscience reasoned. I felt my mouth convert into a smirk at that thought. "... She was one of those racist-conspiracy theory- nut jobs. She was talking about the government's secret plan to thwart the power of the white man and 'n-word' this and 'n-word' that. After listening to this woman talk for about an hour, my mama kicked her ass out and told him to never bring her around again or she would make sure that bitch wouldn't like red-headed Irish women either!" We both laughed. "How do you feel about it?" I inquired, once the laughter died down. "Enough about Malachi's confused ass. I am done talking about my brother," Lynn asked me, shouting. "Did you have fun tonight?" "Hell no," I shouted, as I wash the soapy suds off of my back. "Come on, you didn't have at least a little bit of fun?" "No!" "Well, I had a blast!" she giggled. "Well, I damn sure didn't," I mumbled under my breath. The inspiration behind our little girls' night out was to celebrate my job promotion. The promotion at work was nothing fancy and the job position wasn't lucrative. I will still be working out of the same cubicle and the pay raise was increased by only a few more dollars. But, when I told the news to Lynn, you would've thought that I was made the CEO of the company of where I worked. When I told her that she was over-reacting and that my promotion was a minor thing and there was no need for the fanfare, she told me that there are millions of people, right now, who are unemployed, who would take that job in a heartbeat. Then she said, in honor of those poor souls, we must celebrate and we had to do it in style. She was the one who made the suggestions that we needed to put on our best and sexiest clothes and we should go club-hopping in the Manhattan. For the special night, I decided to go for a look that was somewhat different; to appear as if I am somebody else, an alter ego to be precise. I actually have done something different with my hair. I usually have it pulled back into a ponytail or a cute chignon, but tonight I curled my shoulder-length, straightened hair into big bouncy curls. For an outfit, I chose to wear a lavender knee-length tight, sleeveless dress that had an A-line skirt and a cowl neck collar that occasionally reveal outer curves of my breasts. The dress would've look conservative on some other woman, a thin woman. But for me, a woman that possesses a 36C-24-44 figure, this dress was far from conservative. I definitely made this dress into a va-va-vavoom dress. Then, I threw on some gold, high-heeled, open-toed shoes and onyx jewelry that had some gold accents, to finish the ensemble. For tonight's festivities, to make a long story into a wee bit shorter one, Lynn and I managed to patron one bar before calling it a night, due to Lynn's unexpected drunkenness. It seems like as soon as we set foot in that place, Lynn had stolen all the men's attentions in that bar. My friend is definitely a showstopper: 5'7 inches tall, her body possessed enough dangerous curves that even a blind man could see. In other words, she has plenty of tits and ass. Back in our younger years, the boys in our high school used to call her 'Jessica Rabbit'. Tonight, she was wearing a gold-sequined tank dress that stop in the middle of her thighs, a pair of gold sandals with a five-inched stiletto heel and minimal jewelry. The male patrons had taken one glance at Lynn and soon they were supplying Lynn with drinks. And Lynn being Lynn, could never say no to a free drink. Skin to Skin Thanks to the hot shower, I was wide awake and I knew slumber wasn't going to come for me any time soon. Lynn was all ready 'counting sheep', by the time I came back to the bedroom. And I know that I would've been a major bitch, if I woke my friend up just so she can talk to me. So, I did one of the best things that I could do instead. Well, it was the only thing I could do, which was head on downstairs to the Patrick Family's living room and watch some television. ****************************************************** 'Infomercial, another infomercial, another infomercial, another one....' The pad of my right thumb was starting to get numb from constantly being pressed against the rubber 'up arrow' button on the remote control. "I can't believe there is nothing on television, even though there are over a thousand channels on here." Its 12:34am, Saturday morning, two hours since our departure from the city and I spending my time channel surfing. I eventually had come across a cable channel that aired old black-and-white movies and they was showing the opening credits to a movie that was starting, so I decided to watch. * "Do you like it?" I heard him ask me. I can't see him, the room is too dark, but I can definitely feel him. I can feel his warm, hard body pressed against my bare one. His humid breath is fanning my face. "Yes," I whispered back. "Do you want me to continue?" he asked me. "Yes," I heard myself say to him. My voice was trembling and as if I was in a state of urgency. I caught a brief glimpse of what he was actually doing. It was an aerial shot and from what I saw, it was splendid. In that brief glimpse, I witness his hand cup my mons and his thick long fingers were caressing themselves against my slit and his thumb slowly drew circles on my clit. There was a brief glimpse of his furrowed brow and his bright silver eyes as he stared at me. A second after I witnessed that wonderful image, I felt my body ignite in pleasure, as if my body had finally caught on to what was happening... A loud moan escaped out of my mouth. I felt his full lips cover my own, swallowing the rest of my moans of pleasure, as his fingers continued their exploration. "Do you want me to go faster?" he asked me, once removing his lips from mine. I can hear my breath escaping out of my mouth in quick, light pants. Then, I felt his thumb pick up speed, as well as, added more pressure. "More," I whimpered and begged him. "Do you want more?" "Yes, please," I moaned. I can feel myself about to fall deeper into pleasure. "What do you want more of?" "Please," I whimpered. "I can't say." "Yes--- "Oh God," I moaned into one of the couch's cushions. I had awakened up in the midst of my orgasm. During my spasms, I felt my body slamming against a solid object and I realized it was Ms. Patrick's couch cushions. I was laying face down-torso down on the couch, with my pelvis slightly raised above the couch and the fingers of my right hand were rubbing my sopping wet pussy, as the final waves of my dream-induced orgasm ran through my body. "Mmmm," I groaned in delight. 'Damn, that shit felt good,' I thought as my hips pressed back down onto the couch and as I stared at the back rest part of the sofa. I rolled onto my back and gazed up at the ceiling. I come to the realization that I had fallen asleep while watching the movie, which led to sex dream about Malachi. Now, my thighs are sticky with my own juices. My bathrobe had managed to open up while I was asleep and has exposed the nightgown underneath. My nipples were hard like pebbles and so sensitive. They were so hard that I'm sure that if a stiff breeze blew across them, I would cum. 'Great, I'm horny now and there's no one to help with this,' I mentally concluded. His face flashed in my mind. "Malachi," I sighed, with a low whisper. My hands left their positions at my sides, by my hips and went on their own journey. The journey began at my knees, where the tips of my fingers teased the skin by lightly touching. As they traveled further up my body, my hands had gotten bolder by caressing the skin and causing goose pimples rise up. They found their way to the thin spaghetti straps of my nightgown. Slowly, I pushed them off of my shoulders and pulled them down a little, so I could free my breasts from the gown. I imagined that my fingertips were no longer mine, but were Malachi's. It wasn't my fingertips that were playing with my nipples, it was his fingers. It was his hand that was pinching my nipples and it was his other hand that was trailing down to my seeping, aching pussy. A soul-trembling groan left me, as my fingers reached its destination. Knowing where this way of thinking will lead to and knowing there was a chance that I could get caught, caused my arousal to spike to a higher level. I closed my eyes and a flashback from my dream had entered my mind, the one that I was enjoying a few minutes before. Then, the fantasy had abruptly transformed into another one. In my mind's eye, I wasn't surrounded by the darkness anymore, with the only comfort being the sound of Malachi's voice. Instead, Malachi and I were inside of my bedroom, on my queen-sized canopy bed. I was laying face down with my face halfway buried into a pillow. Malachi was lying on top of me: his upper body was hovering over mine, I can feel his eyes staring at me and I could feel every inch of his dick, as he thrust it and out of my pussy. One of his large hands is gripping my small wrists and is pressing them down onto the mattress, above my head and right against the headboard. Occasionally, this massive hand would release my wrists just so he could trace the koi fish tattoo on my left hip or to give my big, round ass a hard slap. In reality, I can feel I am on the verge of cumming, so I stopped playing with my breasts and added some more members to the party below. As my right fingers frantically rubbed at my clit, the left fingers had become a meager substitute for Malachi's cock. "Oh God, Malachi fuck me with your cock," I murmured, still stuck in my fantasy, as I rode my fingers. I felt the familiar duo sensations of tightness and tingling bubbling up to the surface. When I did cum, I bit my bottom lip to keep from screaming (and to keep myself from waking up both Lynn and Malachi) and I managed to bite so hard that there was a faint taste of blood running along my taste buds. Tiny earthquakes of intense pleasure rip through my body, which gradually turn into tremors that withered down to little jolts inside of my womb. As I was sliding back down from that small bit of heaven, I rolled onto my side and stared at the couch's back rest. I removed my fingers that were coated with my nectar and I brought them to my lips. 'Always sweet with a slight tang' I concluded, as I sucked on my fingertips. "Shit, I need to have one of those orgasms more often," I said to myself, amused and panting, after I came back down to Earth. After having that incredible orgasm that left the inside of my bathrobe and my nightgown drenched in my fluid, I decided to call it a night. As I fixing myself up, I recognize that I was thirsty. Without turning on any of the kitchen's lights, I walked into the kitchen. I used the moonlight that shone through the kitchen's bay window, as a guide. I walked over to the dish rack that was on the counter top, to receive a glass. With the glass in my right hand, I went over to the refrigerator. "Apple juice, grape juice, wine coolers..." I mumbled under my breath, as I was checking out the contents that were in the refrigerator. "...Beer, beer, more beer..." I chuckled. I assumed the beer belonged to Malachi. Once I nudged the six pack of Miller Light out of the way, I found what I was looking for. "Aha, water," I stated as I grabbed the plastic pitcher from out of the fridge. As I made myself something to drink, I sat on the counter top and stared into the darkness of the room. After downing my first glass, I made myself another one. 'I wonder why I am so thirsty,' I joked. After enjoying my flavorless, tasty beverage, I placed my glass in the sink and I went to place the pitcher of water back in the refrigerator. After I placed the pitcher inside of the fridge, I received the biggest fright of my life, as the fridge's door closed. Once I set the pitcher in the fridge and stood up straight, an unknown force had grabbed me at my waist and pulled me away from the fridge. I let out a blood-curling scream and before I could release another one, an object covered my mouth. I felt my body being pressed against a large solid object. My body started to violently thrash against this unknown force, trying to break free but this thing wouldn't let go of me. "You're going to hurt yourself, if you continue to move about like that." I stopped moving. It was then I realized that the foreign object that was covering my mouth was a hand and the solid force that I pressed against was another person. And it was not just any person. "Malachi," I screamed, but it was smothered due to his hand was covering my mouth. "Yes?" he said, nonchalantly, as if we were having an ordinary conversation. "Would you like to say something?" He removed his hand off of my face, but he placed it on my neck instead. His fingers gently wrapped themselves around my neck. I knew that if I started to scream, he would place that giant hand back on my mouth. "W-w-w-what are y-y-you d-d-doing?" I asked him. The fear that I was feeling was definitely evident. "What am I doing? I think you all ready know that answer to that question." "W-w-w-why?" I stuttered. 'Chloe, what are you doing?' my mind screamed at me. 'Struggle, fight, do something instead of standing here like a dummy.' As if he could read my mind, I felt his forearm press tighter against my stomach. "What, did you not think you could parade around here dress like your fucking whore and think that no one was going to notice?" At that moment, he pressed his groin against my butt and I felt a hard, large bulge. 'Oh God, he is going to rape me,' was the notion that popped into my head. I stammered out a "W-w-what?" Malachi brought his face closer to the right side of my head, the sensitive area where my ear was located. The feeling on his warm breath tickling my ear caused goose pimples to flare up on my forearms. "Then, there's that little fucking show that you pulled on the couch..." 'Oh shit,' my mind groaned. At that moment, I silently wish that I had the ability to disappear. So, instead, I had started up my efforts to free myself from his clutches. The act of trying to obtain my freedom was a pointless one, because he was too goddamned strong. His grip on my neck became tighter and his other arm tightened too harshly around my midsection. "I thought you were done with the moving thing, Chloe," he growled into my ear. Both of grips had become tighter and I felt the air from my lungs was forced out of my body. The gasps from my mouth had reached my ears as I was being suffocated. "Malachi please let me go," my voice squeaked. "What?" he said, in a not-so-subtle smart ass kind of way. "I can't breathe," my voice rasped. "Do you want me to stop?" "Yes please," I pleaded with my voice sounding hoarse. "Do you promise to stop struggling?" Malachi asked me, as his grip tightened on my neck. My face was beginning to feel numb, due to the loss of circulation. A series of images popped into my head: an image of my corpse being ditched into a wooded area, a look of distraught on my mother's face and an image of being strangled to death by a crazed Neo-Nazi with a bad dye job. Those thoughts had caused hot tears to run down my face and fall down into the unknown. "Yes," I sobbed. There was a bit of silence between afterwards. His grip was still tight around my neck and I still could feel all of that precious air around me, being unable to infiltrate my lungs. Then, suddenly, he released my neck and his grip around my waist entirely. I collapsed onto the kitchen's linoleum floor with a sickening thud, but I didn't notice the descent, because I was too busy trying regain the ability to breathe. The make out session between me and the available air in the kitchen didn't last too long, because I felt Malachi grab a handful of my thick hair and gathered me into his arms again. "No," I heard myself scream. "Get the fuck off of me!" "Now, now," he chuckled, before dragging me off of the floor and was half-dragging and halfway carrying me into the basement, where this monster slept. My hands went out to grab any object that I could grab: the stairs, the hand railing and I even felt my fingernails scrapped against the walls. I also screamed out for assistance for Lenora, for assistance from God and for anybody's help, but my shouts for aid had gone ignored. Once we reached the door that led to his bedroom, which was at the base of the staircase, he kicked the door open with his foot. His bedroom/basement's bright lights stung my eyes for a brief second, once we entered inside of his room. I didn't make a full inventory of his bedroom, until he had dropped me on the carpeted floor, in the middle of the room. Once I did take a gander around his bedroom that 'color from skin draining-stomach flip-flopping' situation had returned. "Oh my God," I whispered. The best way I can describe his room is: if the interior designer from Applebee's was hired by a Neo-Nazi, who needed an interior decorator to decorate his romper room, then they would have this room's decoration in mind. There were Nazi memorabilia everywhere. There were framed pictures of famed segregationists and reproduction photos of lynching parties mounted on the walls. There were other memorabilia dedicated to the Nazi regime on his wall as well. But then there were innocent, non-racist things like old street signs and pictures of his family members on the walls too. Positioned in one of the corners of his bedroom, there was weight set with a bench press and dumb bells resting on the floors; there was a floor-to-ceiling bookcase that was in the corner that was across from his bed and there was entertainment system positioned a few feet in front of his bed. Then, there were two other objects in that room had captured my attention: one of those things was a dog kennel cage. I felt goose pimples when I noticed the door to the cage was opened. Then, there was a flag placed right above his bed's head board. It was a red flag with a swastika symbol in the middle. While staring at it, I felt like I was at some type of worshipping altar and I was the sacrificial object. "It's a beauty, isn't it?" he announced, breaking me out of my reverie. I turned my attention towards him. He was standing in front of bedroom's door, locking the second lock out of the three locks that he has on the damn thing. "The flag is an actual flag that was hanging in the Madison Square Garden during the night Hitler had given a speech. It's very valuable." I picked myself up off of the floor and straightened my clothes. "I'm sure you can get a lot of money for it, if you go on 'The Antiques Road show,'" I declared, with a voice so low that I don't think Malachi heard me. "Malachi, listen to me..." I stated, trying to reason with him. "Please, don't do what you're about to do to me. Please, let me go..." As I was trying to reason with him, I notice he was walking towards me. There was this bone-chilling, predatory grin on his handsome face. I watched his hands slip underneath the elastic waistband of his black sweatpants and pull out the bottom of his tank top. "Oh God," I murmured. He chuckled, which pissed me off. I felt like he wasn't considering my feelings; that he considered me as a lesser human than he was. "You say 'God' a lot, you know that's blasphemy, right?" Malachi's leisure stroll towards me had come to a halt, when there was at least less than a foot of space between the two of us. Once I seen his hands move away from his sides, I jumped a few inches away from him. He chuckled again, which caused my anger to increase. He ended up folding his arms across his chest. "Well, thank you Father Patrick, for the fucking theology lesson," I said to him, sarcastically, feeling my anger bubbling over. "You have two goddamn choices, Malachi: release me and I won't tell anybody about this. Or I will escape and I will make sure that your ass will buried underneath a goddamned--- The next thing I know, I was slammed into one of the walls and Malachi was invading my personal space. Just like before, my neck was getting acquainted with that massive paw he calls a hand and he was squeezing my throat. Our faces were centimeters away from each other and he was shouting into my face. "Listen, you black bitch, don't you ever fuckin' tell me what to do, you fuckin' black nig— Before Malachi could finish pronouncing that vile word, I slapped him on the side of his face. I used so much velocity that his head had rocked to the side and he hand released my neck. "Don't you ever speak to me that way again!" I shouted at him. Then, I slapped him again. "You are a racist piece of shit!" Then, like the non-fighting person that I am, I begun to unleash a barrage of sissy, wimpy hand slaps onto him. He managed to fend off my attack and ended up pushing me back into the wall. Before I could defend myself yet again, he grabbed my throat again, but he lifted me off the ground this time. The tips of my toes were brushing up against carpet. I stared down at his enraged face as I tried to pry his hand off my throat by scratching at the wrist and forearm, putting my $35.00 manicure to work. "Let me go," I growled. "Let me fucking go, you racist asshole!" I demanded, once again, after he refused. My attack on his forearm wasn't working, so I started to attack his face. His left cheek was all ready a bright shade of red, due to the first two slaps that I've given him. After a few more slaps, both of his cheeks had taken on a maroon color. "Let me go," I whimpered, feeling the first stages of losing consciousness. I felt my stubbornness and my need to fight back weakened as well. "Let me go, I'll do whatever you want," I begged. The last things I can remember seeing were Malachi's face, the carpet and then the pipes that were on the ceiling.