I am having a speck of trouble preparing myself for the party I am supposed to attend with Kati tomorrow night. I have not made up my mind on what I will wear; I am nervous. Whom do we get to invite with us? Crandon? Plain no! I don’t want to tempt bad reputation another time. I’ve had enough public embarrassment thanks to him. There is no mute girl to fuck him at Alicia’s—is there?
I am afraid I will look Barbie weird. There must be a magical way to do this. I can doll myself up like brown-hair Barbie and look commonplace, but first-class. I am not convinced still.
Four o’clock has hit when I get back from Pinker Spinner. I find Crandon seated in our living room, watching TV quietly. I grin at him and head on to award him a peck on his forehead. He splits his lips and moans out in satisfaction. “I will be back,” I notify him. “I must make a cup of tea for each one of us, chocolate.”
Crandon’s is chocolate dark skin which clothes him from head to toe. He is beyond question irresistible and a genius too. I adopted him in Africa. It must have been in Kenya. The first time I laid my eyes on him, he struck me with such fascination I had never felt before.
Crandon knows how to use the toilet and furthermore flush his shit; he knows how to make Chinese tea and fry eggs and smear butter on slices of bread. He can sweep the living room using a vacuum cleaner; he can place 2 kilograms of laundry inside the washing machine; he can play the guitar and dance naked; I often take him out for shopping and picnics. His favorite clothes are baggy jeans and football-supporting shirts.
It is gradually getting cold but fast darkening when we set off to play football at my backyard. I like this place. It is calm and soundless—almost like we don’t stay in a deafening town dubbed ‘Sin City.’ Every time I am here, I don’t refuse to ogle Mother Nature, clad in her most beautiful attire. There are squealing birds, squawking frogs, squeaking crickets, hopping grasshoppers, mewling cats.
To be frank, I am not in the mood to play football. I am forcing myself to do this—for Crandon’s sake. He enjoys this sport like nothing else. I can’t stand to let him down.
In the meantime, I am the goalkeeper. This post suits Crandon, not me! When he is lying on the ground, he moves at a snail’s pace, hardly able to pull himself. If you should see him diving at a flying ball—you will assuredly pass out.
I am idly lightening up when he kicks the ball at me. I don’t expect him to score. Playing this role doesn’t suit him. He will fail seriously.
I am not expecting it. Out of nowhere, he boots the ball with such might I don’t even believe an adult mute guy would possess. I watch in horror as the ball wings like lightning. Too late, I realize I have belittled his efforts. He is going to score this time. I rush speedily after the jetting ball, launching my feet into the air. Happily enough, my hands brush the ball—but sadly miss to grab hold of it. Someone knocks my back from behind, pushing me down to land on my hands and feet. Who could this be? Noël?
I hurriedly pick myself up and wrathfully turn back. Goodness! He is the most attractive guy I have seen. His looks are too captivating. Already, I am falling under his invincible love spell. What……..is………his………name?
He carries the ball proudly; in the end he launches it at me, telling me, “I believe I have saved your doomed ass, Mia.”
How does he know my name? I don’t have his in mind? Possibly I met him somewhere, some time back, then let slip from memory everything that happened. Is someone terribly handsome as him worth forgetting? I don’t think so.
“Kindly make yourself known to me,” I beg him—can you envisage that?
“I am Elian Dunes; a good friend of your brother, Noël.”
I wasn’t expecting to hear that. The gentleman is dressed up exceedingly fine. His handsome black suit faultlessly matches with his glassy, pointed shoes. The way he smiles at me pierces into my heart. I am supposing that I have bumped into an Archangel.
“How can I help you, Elian?”
“Don’t you think you are being rude with me, Mia? Are you not supposed to invite me in for a glass of juice? For your own information, this is not my first time being here. I have dropped by more than once when in Noël’s company. Your brother here too knows me. Don’t you, Crandon?”
He knows Crandon? Who is this guy seriously?
“I am sorry, Mister Whatever-Your-Name-Is. I don’t invite strangers I don’t recognize into my house.”
He frowns at me. He is getting mad, I can easily tell. I can’t help the situation regardless. The truth that he is good-looking doesn’t give me one good reason I should pin faith on him. After he winks at Crandon, I watch Crandon drift from me on his hands and feet. He proceeds to take his stand next to the charismatic guy. I was not expecting that. Crandon probably knows him. Yet I don’t.
“Would you mind if I joined your game? Just for a while; I am aware that Crandon enjoys football like no other activity.” There is this gleam brightening up in Elian’s eyes; I can’t explain it. My heart deep down wants me to trust him; my mind is against that.
“I am sorry. You can’t play with us.”
He lifts his hands and surrenders. “Fine; I am not going to force you into doing anything you don’t want to.”
“Leave us now. Crandon and I are about to go inside and have dinner. It is better you go than to have us leave you out here alone.”
“Thank you, Mia, anyway. Do tell Noël I dropped by. I appreciate everything.”
What is there to be grateful about? I was quite rude to him. Yet he presses on he is in my debt? Is something faulty inside that chap’s head? He freaks me out as being psycho or something fiendish.
It is high time we bath. I stand in the shower, undressed. Crandon is straightened besides me, waiting for me to hold the tap and switch it open. A stream of cool water crashes on us. I shudder. He trembles too, firmly holding on to my waist. “Don’t worry, chocolate,” I comfort him. “I will now loose hot water.” That has him grinning cheerfully.
Every time I take my clothes off, Crandon slaps my ass with his hand. His is an exciting habit of squeezing my ass and then chuckling loudly to himself. I have never taught him to do these things. One time, I discovered him playing a tutorial porn video on Noël’s laptop. Honestly, this blew the shit out of me. Crandon was masturbating after the guy in that video!
I have become exhausted of coming across Playboy magazines littered in his bedroom before setting them on fire. He generally steals them from Noël’s room, at times storing them inside his closet. On occasion, he hides them underneath his mattress. I always see white cum soaking his clothes, chiefly the vestments gathered in our laundry basket.
I know. He is addicted to masturbation. He does it fine, I must admit nonetheless.
Crandon’s penis looks appetizing. It is huge and attractively-shaped, with narrow green veins manifest on it. The other time he had me suck it like bitches do. I swallowed it entirely into my broadened mouth. Then he spilled semen out instantaneously. Yes. He comes quickly unlike any man I have had sex with. No sooner I had stuck his dick into my mouth, the instant he climaxed and spilled sugared cum.
One time, I made a cup of tea strictly from his cum. It was sweeter than honey or anything. Two days later, I got diseased; something alike to flu. I had a runny nose and sore eyes and a burning headache. It was lost to feeling a day after. Still, I have never quitted grabbing his cock and sucking everything he lets out.
“Don’t tell me you have tasted your mute’s brother cum?” Kati questioned the other day we were lazing outside Wendy’s. Even as she glared at me, I could read she was envious of me undertaking that.
“I have, girl. It tasted wonderful. You must give it a try too.”
“What? You are sick in the head, Mia. There is no way I am going to do that.”
Crandon has a crush on BDSM sex: Bondage, Discipline, Sadism; Machismo. I found these words penned careless-manner on some graph inside his room. Underneath this was: Can we please try it, Mia?
Yes. Crandon can pick a pen and put in writing what he is having in mind. All the time, his handwriting is messed up and sloppy.
In response, I inscribed down: We shall make an effort at it, Crandon. It won’t be soon, I promise.
That’s right. He can read. I tutored him how to do that. What he cannot do is spell words and letters.
I am not looking forward to anything when Crandon tweaks my nipples using both hands. I gaze down at him. His chest fur is damp from the water pouring; his eyes are merry. I know what he exactly wants. Sex! I will spoil him with precisely that.
I shut my eyes. He keeps on pulling and twisting my nipples. This is not paining. He is working everything wonderfully I can even start to imagine myself having sex with a genuine man that is able to communicate back to me through speech. His performance defeats that of most men honestly.
I try to breathe calmly. I cannot. He is tweaking faster. His other hand switches to my vagina. I can feel it work its way silently—waking up sweet emotions I didn’t know were present in me. Oh Crandon! He is amazingly trained at this. He thrusts his finger deeper this time. I am close to losing consciousness.
“Yes, Crandon; keep the performance up. You are so good, darling.” I cheer him up, unclosing my eyes and looking about. I don’t know what I will do if Noël gets back home and finds us like this. Up till now, he is not aware that Crandon and I screw each other. Kati knows. I am positive she won’t open her mouth. I am looking after her dirtiest secret; one that can surely break her happiness for the rest of her life. She won’t betray me.
Crandon has me wheel round. I give him my back and bend downwards. He wants to lick my ass. Before he works this out, he punches a finger into my pussy and pushes in deeper. Yes……yes……..exactly like that, my sweet dear Crandon. He is more than impressive.
I like how his tongue brushes my vagina. He starts slowly at fast, hurrying up as he goes on. Pleasure is everywhere inside me—from my head to my ass to my pussy to my belly. I can feel the sweetness spreading to every part of my body. While his tongue laps faster, he pokes two more fingers in and I get wet straight away.
I am about to let go my pussy cum; speedily, it flows down my legs, soaking my thighs. With his tongue, Crandon goes after it, mopping my skin clean. I love this. He is such a good pet. I will keep him for as long as fate can tolerate.
“Good job, Crandon—good boy,” I mumble while gasping out.
He uplifts my leg, placing himself in a position where he is able to lick me better and more easily. I open my mouth as though I am about to cry. I only manage to squeal. Yes. I had intentions to weep at the top of my voice. I am not going to do that in any case. I don’t want to draw my neighbor’s attention. They can be annoyingly snoopy.
I can't think straight. The pleasure is too immense for me to handle. Crandon's tongue laps rapidly into my tight pussy, leaving me astound and breathless. I am afraid this will hurt in some way. It doesn't to my surprise. He exercises great care I don’t expect from a sound human male.
He pushes me further down so that my pussy yawns widely open. I shut my eyes for a split second. I can’t understand what is exactly happening to me. His fingers jab into me hurriedly until I am no longer able to keep myself from hitting another orgasm.
He has me bow down on the floor and then braces his dick with his hand. As he strokes it nicely, snow-colored cum shoots out and hits my legs. He makes it his obligation to lick up the cum, cleaning my legs as a result.
"Excellent, Crandon," I praise him for his accomplishment. "Please do it again."
Cum flies out and scatters down my legs. He bends over and licks it. He has left me out of breath. I prefer to fuck him than a self-centered human man. With him, I orgasm many times than I can keep count of. Yes—even throughout short encounters which don’t last longer than ten minutes; he fucks better than those selfish boyfriends I have made out with in the past.
At last, he places his dick into my cunt. I breathe out slowly, seeking to manage the overpowering sweetness he is furnishing me with. Watchfully, he pulls out his dick—then lays it inside again. I don’t want to move. I might ruin things. I stay still, letting him stick his cock into me and then draw it out. Is he aware that he is killing me with enjoyment? He definitely is!
At long last, he has begun slamming in and out of me. He starts slowly at first, speeding up as time slips by. I can’t breathe. The pleasure is around me yet again. We both pant, louder and faster, until I finally scream. Damn me! How dare I do that? Promptly, he places his hand on my mouth and hushes me. He howls out in rage. He has every right to do that. Noël might show up from wherever he is, and discover us like this. If he does, this will be the end of us—I swear.
“I am sorry, Crandon. I didn’t mean to scream,” I express my regret with a saddened face.
He keeps on fucking and smashing harder. His drops of sweat trickle on my back. I toss my hand behind me so I can clasp his balls and caress them softly. He likes it; he groans out in delight. Yes……yes…..we must keep this up.
Before we collapse on the floor, soaking our heads with the crashing water, I hold on to the wall and spin my eyes. I am exhausted. I must take a nap. Crandon is spent too. He grins joyously at me, and I smile back.
MIA’S REVENGE
Lucas is twenty-three and handsome. He has long ash blond hair, curled neatly. His eyes are brown like a walnut. They are what made me realize he has been crushing on me these gone years. When I married his dad, Sebastian, he was blamelessly twenty-four. Now he is more mature. I scheme to utilize him as my tool of vengeance against Sebastian. Sebastian hurt me cruelly. I will sting him back where it pains the most—I swear.
Revenge; it is all I desire. Before these bitter emotions came into existence, I loved him very much. He was the most valued thing in my life. I gave him everything he wished for. Is this how I deserve to be paid back? By getting divorced and stripped of my wealth? No.....I have not begun tormenting him yet. He will surely pay for every bit of my suffering.
Sebastian's weakness is his son, Lucas. The boy I used to see as my own son. Ever since I divorced his dad, I don’t think of myself as his mom anymore. He has never treated me like a mother is worthy of being handled by her son. Instead of being his mom, I was always the rich, beautiful woman that became his mum through misfortune.
I can't do this. My heart is totally against this. I can't help it though. I am the one who has suffered more here. Sebastian must suffer for everything too!
"You came, Mia," Lucas says with a glad countenance. He steps towards me and taps my arms with his hands. "Finally you came. I was starting to worry you were not interested in me anymore."
"Lucas, this is not right." My voice trembles. I am shivering also. How dare I do this? Don't I have any conscience left in me? "I may be divorced to your dad, but I am still your mother; even if you don’t want to acknowledge it."
He brushes my cheek with his lips tenderly. "You are not my mother, Mia. You have never been my mom. I want you so badly I am ready to burn in hell just for you."
"We will become cursed, Lucas, if we continue doing this." I start to weep. I don't want to cry. I just can't help it.
"Stop crying, my sweet baby. Come. Lucas won't hurt you."
Guilt torments me, even as I wake up in my nakedness. I look besides me. He is still immersed into sleep. He does not snore or make any displeasing sounds. His eyes are securely shut; his hand is crossed over my waist. I have slept with my own son......damn me!
Sunlight at last emerges in the sky. It spreads everywhere, making every piece of furniture look a brilliant white. I stand before the large window and look outside. Lucas must now be awake. I can hear his feet tiptoe quietly towards me. He suddenly grips my waist and sniffs into my hair calmly.
"How was your sleep last night?" He asks in a soft voice.
I smile ironically at his reflection. "I hardly slept, Lucas. I had a lot of stuff running in my mind."
"Stuff like what, baby?" I can't believe it. The same boy who used to call me, "Momma," was now addressing me, "Baby?" Just imagine? I withhold myself from laughing.
"Lucas, don't you feel guilt or remorse by sleeping with a woman who used to be your father's wife?" I am startled. My eyes abruptly wet with tears. Yes, I am weak to have my revenge deep inside. I will accomplish it nevertheless. Time is what will set up strength and heartlessness.
The day I wedded Sebastian, Lucas was not merry looking. In contrariety, he was furious with me and envious of Sebastian. How am I so positive about it? Back when I was dating his dad, he had this to tell me:
"Mia, don't you think my dad is too old a man for you. I see no reason you should insist on marrying him. You are young and beautiful. I beg you—go and look for someone your youthful age."
"What are you trying to insinuate, Lucas? That Sebastian and I don't deserve to be together? Is that it?"
"I am only being polite with you. I don't want you later on regretting having married a man that is too old to take excellent care of you. I am certain that dad will not satisfy every of your needs."
Something happened the night Sebastian returned to Nevada from Europe. We were at a particular hotel with the company of his son. Inside my room, I wore leggings, a bra and G-string—and wrapped a nightgown over myself. With gracefulness, I strutted out to his room and tossed the door open. Having stepped into the living room, I took off my gown and cautiously laid it on the sofa. Then I went searching for him, only to discover Lucas who had just emerged from the shower in his bareness.
"Lucas?" Self-reproach struck me. I nervously hurried back into the living room and looked for my nightgown. This was all a big mistaking on my part! What was I going to explain to Sebastian?
By the time he turned up into the living room, I had long covered my nakedness. Well, he had veiled his as well. “Mia, I didn't picture you had such a breathtaking body. I am fascinated with that, honestly."
How dare he gave voice to that filth?
"Damn you, Lucas," was all I could say.
That was when he started acting weird around me. Whenever we were alone, he would caress me and peck my skin. I did everything I could to keep away from him. Sebastian was close to catching us in erotic positions limitless times.
"Lucas, I am a married woman; married to your own dad for sanity's sake. Will you please respect that?"
He chuckled every time I said that. It was as though I was wasting my time explaining worthless things to him. "I like you, Mia. Nothing is going to stop me from having you. Do you hear that?"
I miss Lucas Wyatt; my sin-given spouse; the man I prefer to spend my nights with. He might be away. Yet memories of him are intense like sweet, flaming incense. For six nights now, I have been sleeping by myself in our enormous lush bed. Here—there is no one to hold me to his naked chest; no one to peck my forehead and caress my breasts. My nights are lonesome and dull without him.
It cannot be true. I do not have the smallest faith in my eyes when I look forward and see him. He stands mutely, his luggage ditched on the airport floor. He is dressed in pale jeans and a pitch-black jacket that looks to be made of leather. His eyes are weary. With a thrilled grin, I step towards him and stretch out my arms. He unfolds his and we squeeze like a man and a woman who have been kept apart for time endless.
We are not old; we are still in the spring of our lifetime. Lucas is twenty-nine. I am twenty-five. We began dating shortly after his dad divorced me. I have not forgotten how troublesome and loose a gentleman he was. I attempted everything in my power to not fall for him; when he became aware of this, he used the most prevailing charm he could on any woman to trick me into his arms. I have no regrets that I became his willful victim in the end.
“You are back, Lucas,” I state calmly. I do not quit smiling at him.
He presses me as hard as he possibly can. I can locate those emotions—feelings of sexual desire and hunger. It seems he hasn’t cheated on me this time. The other time he was in New York he did. It hurt me for days. I was not able to eat with ease or speak to him or make love to him. Now I have come to this realization—you can’t change the color of the sky just because it is not your favorite. In any relationship, there will forever be sparkly moments and gloomy ones.
“I came back for you, Mia. Nothing else led me here save for you.” His voice spills like sweet honey into my ears. It softens my stony heart and overpowers me with affection. I pull back from him leisurely and look into his cheery eyes. Yes. I can tell it just by inspecting them. He is being truthful with me.
Inside the cab as we head to my home. I am curled up besides him. He grips me securely. My head is rested coolly on his chest; this very same chest that I am going to make my headrest tonight. I can’t wait for the sky to blacken and his sexual appetites to trouble him the more. Deep inside my soul, I feel am dying from want of him. We glance at each other and he budges after me, kissing me lips gently. I kiss him back, knocking my tongue against his violently. We are then finished. For now which is.
Once we turn up at my place, I ask him what he wishes to eat. “Anything tasty that you can prepare for me, honey,” he flatly tells me, stroking my cheek with his cold hand and hitting my ass furthermore. I shiver as his lips stir on mine. I do not have power over my feelings anymore. “Don’t worry, Mia. We are going to fuck mercilessly before this night slips away.”
“How was New York?” I cry out from the kitchen.
“There were hot chicks, baby. But no one of them was hotter than you. I couldn’t stand seeing my colleagues make out with them. I was like, ‘I must go back home straight away and spend some time fucking Mia.’ It was thought-provoking—honestly.”
I laugh as loud as I can. Lucas can at times be amusing. Not in an irritating way, seriously.
I am slicing onion on a silver tray when he moves towards me from behind and holds my ass with both hands. He slaps it what’s more and proceeds to caress it tenderly. I launch my head into the air and breathe in deeply. I did not foresee that coming. Cannot he see that this is not the suitable moment to fuck each other? I am cooking for goodness’ sake. The food may end up charring to ashes.
“Lucas, cool your heels. We can’t do this now. I must finish cooking first.”
His hands twiddle with my butt. I can’t help the way he is squeezing it. I am starting to get wet inside my vagina already. Worse more, I have worn no panties. I am dressed in just jeans and a turquoise top. My hair is raked straight down my back. I prefer arranging it this way except I am going out for fashionable events.
“Lucas, you are arousing me,” I moan.
“Keep chopping the onion while I play with your ass, baby. I want to test how soft it still is. It has been long, Mia. Six days, you know? That is close to a week. I swear I didn’t sleep with anyone else. I am so starved I could fall down any moment now and that would be the end of me.”
“Poor us! I know what it feels like to be in your shoes. I am famished too, honey. You want to hear the best news? We have got the whole night to make up for all that time that we have lost.”
“No, Mia. Assume we die any moment now. An earthquake could strike and we would perish without fucking. Please—let us have a quickie. Right here, I am begging you.”
I weight his proposal. It is not awful. I have no additional choice besides. I may send him packing out that door and he might never come back. I better give him what he is craving for than to have him enjoy it elsewhere; much worse with a hooker! “Fine, Gavin. Undress me while I finish slicing this onion. I will take off your clothes once you are through.”
“We undress each other?” He asks in a way that makes it seem he is teasing me. Perhaps he is. “No one is going to undress the other, Mia. I want to fuck you just the way you are dressed up. Go ahead and unfasten my zip, baby. Lick me hard but quickly.”
“Alright……” My eyes do not leave his. I swing myself around, flipping my hair recklessly in the air. I slant myself on him and sink down to my knees. His lips immediately arch into an enthusiastic smile. It is what he is longing for—I can tell that. I shall provide him with he exactly needs.
His cock is huge. I carry it carefully and take a gradual lick of its head. He sighs out, leaning towards the counter. “Shit, Mia. You are my bitch and woman all in one. Aren’t you, baby?”
“I certainly am, Gavin. I am not embarrassed to be one.”
“Go ahead, honey. Get it on and kill me with enjoyment.”
I swallow his cock into my mouth. It is the sweetest thing ever! It knocks the insides of my mouth. I brush his balls with my tongue. In no time, he lets go cum—which I taste before taking a swift gulp of it. He unlooses it further. I devour every splash of it. It is impressive to observe how fast he always comes. His hand lowers to my head and messes up my hair. I break off from sucking his dick and carry on to lick his balls. Goodness! They are tasty too, just like his cock.
I am about to venture further when he pulls me up and looks closely into my eyes. “Mia, I love you.” He voices the words out coolly. “I would die for you—are you aware of this fact?”
“I love you too, Lucas. You are every reason I wish to live longer than I at the present have.”
He budges closer to me and takes my lips by surprise. It is too late to pull back from him—I realize. He snatches me into his arms while kissing me strongly. His hands drop to my butt. He squeezes vigorously. Damn him for it! I am becoming more wet. I burn with an uncontrollable desire to fuck him the hardest way imaginable. I want him to shove his dick into me right away. Would he kindly do that if I asked this of him?
He undoes my zip and pulls down my jeans. With this finished, he locates my clit and steadily massages it. The fires of lust are fast consuming me. I kiss him vehemently. We both moan in satisfaction. I want us to stop. I feel like I cannot stand it anymore. Deep down my heart, I am confident that I can accomplish this.
When he ultimately stabs his fingers into my cunt, I hunch down my back. I spin my way freely in the sea of pleasure. Everything surrounding me is wonderfully divine. Seeing paradise under the deep makes me lose track of my thoughts. It is like I have suddenly melted from reality. I do not even want to come back again. I swear.