Chapter - 1
It was early morning and the first rays of the sun had slowly started to fall through the windows of the houses, and house number 17 was no different. Well, nothing different except for one thing.
As the rays of the sun penetrated through the curtains and fell on the young man who lay asleep with his eyes closed. But there was no calm on his face. Instead, one could see a raging storm. He twisted and turned in his sleep as the sheets wrapped around his legs like vines.
One could see a thin sheen of sweat covering his body, plastering his dark hair to his forehead.
"No… Stop…"
"Don't hurt them"
"Run away"
Distorted words escaped his mouth as his fists clenched so tight that his knuckles turned white.
It did not look like he was having a bad dream, it felt like a memory that was hidden deep inside his brain was trying to crawl out of the place it was being locked in.
And while the boy was going through hell in his room, a woman dressed in her blue night gown climbed up the stairs, heading towards the boy's room. Likely in her early forties, the woman did not look her age in the least. She was still strikingly beautiful.
Her messy black hair was barely below her shoulder, and her smooth white skin made any man want to feel her up.
And just as she reached the door, she did not even knock before pushing the door open, with a soft smile on her lips, "Ethan, time to get up, son. You don't want to be late for..."
But when she saw the boy getting tormented, the words died in her throat, and the smile vanished from her face, replaced by a sharp intake of breath.
The sight of the boy looking so vulnerable felt like a stab in her chest.
Seeing the boy like that, the drowsiness in her eyes was gone and was replaced with a fierce will to comfort him.
And her body reacted to her instincts. And she almost ran to his side.
"Ethan," she whispered, her voice was thick with concern. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Ethan, wake up. It is just a dream."
But just as she placed her hand on his shoulder, she could feel his well-defined muscles.
She could not help but think. It had only been a few months since they had met.
The boy she found who was on the verge of death, barely clinging onto his life was gone.
Now, even in this situation, the sheer physical presence of him was undeniable.
The thin sheet did little to hide the broad, powerful shape of his shoulders or the defined muscles of his arms and chest.
But to suddenly think about his strong arms at this moment felt strange and out of place. It made her feel ticklish in her stomach.
She quickly shook the thought away, scolding herself internally as she turned her gaze back to his sweat ridden face.
Meanwhile, the boy did not respond to the woman's words. His mutterings and pain seem to be getting worse.
So without a second thought, the woman lifted him up and pulled him into her arms. His tense frame now leaned into her arms, against her soft, voluptuous chest. If he was awake, he would surely feel he was in heaven.
The woman, on the other hand, gently stroked his head as her lips softly whispered in his ears, "it is alright Ethan, it is just a dream. I am here."
And her words worked like a charm. His tense muscles relaxed with her soft touch. He groaned in a low murmur as he turned towards the source of his comfort. He buried his neck in the soft nape of the woman, inhaling the sweet fragrance from her body.
With her nose pressed against her nape, and his strong arms wrapped around her waist, he pulled her even closer to herself, and she was almost lying on him now.
But while her touch was soothing for him, his touch had a totally different effect on her. His sudden pull sent a jolt through her body. She could feel the heat of his skin through their clothes.
His hot and steady breath against the sensitive skin of her neck sent a ticklish feeling from her neck all the way to her stomach.
And soon she could feel herself getting wet between her legs. It was a pure physical reaction of hers against her son's touch.
It was something she has not felt in months if not years. But the means of it was both terrifying and thrilling. She felt comforting in her heart, but part of her was also deeply unsettled.
This was wrong, wasn't it? But it felt so right.
But somehow the woman managed to control herself. Even though her breathing was getting ragged, she had to wake him up. In fact, she had to stop this.
She finally found her voice to speak again, Ethan, Wake up. Look it is already past eight," she spoke in her strained and breathless voice.
This time the boy replied, a sleepy, but playful murmur left his lips, "Ummm... two minutes more." From her comforting he answered.
But still he did not pull away. Instead, he nuzzled closer as his lips brushed against her neck.
Now that was a knockout blow. A soft, involuntary gasp escaped the woman's lips. It was almost a moan. Instinctively her hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes grew wide with shock at her own body's betrayal.
'What the Fu*k,' The woman felt her cheeks flushing red with embarrassment.
At that time, sensing her body going rigid, a sleazy smile appeared on Ethan's lips for a second before he masked it.
'This should be enough for now,' Ethan thought to himself. He knew he should not push the boundaries in one go. He let out a loud, exaggerated yawn and stretched his long limbs, the movement forcing him to release her.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes, "Wow," he said, his voice still rough with sleep, "That was some dream."
The woman quickly pulled away from Ethan and stood up adjusting her night gown. But the faint blush on her cheeks remained.
"Ethan! What was that? Are you alright?"The woman asked, her voice a little too high. She desperately wanted to talk about anything else right now.
She could still feel the warmth of his breath against her skin, "You were murmuring something. You looked desperate."
"Was I?" Ethan asked as he looked at the concern in her eyes, "I am sorry If I scared you."
"You… Don't be silly," she said, acting all serious, "if I am not going to worry about you, then who will?"
"So what was it?" She asked.
"It was nothing," Ethan tried to shrug it off casually, "Just the usual dream," He said that and swung his legs over to the side of the bed. And while he did that, his arm slightly brushed against the woman who was still standing beside him.
And just as his arm brushed against her ass over her nightgown, she felt a rush flow through her body. She instinctively closed her legs, almost crouching on the floor.
"If you are feeling okay. Then freshen up and come downstairs. I will have your breakfast ready," The woman said and then without looking back at Ethan rushed out of the room.
After the woman's quick escape, Ethan sat on the bed looking at the door for a moment before he let out a big sigh, "Man these dreams. They are getting out of hand."
"Either show me the whole picture or fucking stop it already. What's with the bits and pieces?"
"I am happy with my new life."
"Why won't you let me have it?"
"The only thing you are helpful for is that you let me have some fun with her."
I get to enjoy her embrace and feel those soft breasts of her against my face."
"Now for that I will thank you. But can you tone down your frequency?"
And after complaining and thanking his dreams for about a minute, Ethan finally stood up and walked straight into the bathroom.
And he slowly started to strip out of his clothes. And just as he was done, one could see the complete contrast between his handsome face, with strong jaws, greyish blue eyes and black hair, and the rest of his body.
In the mirror one could see a long jagged scar, running diagonally across his chest. The scar started from his naval and ended over his heart. But this was just one of the many scars.
There were a bunch of other scars as well, some looked like marks of fists and some looked like perfectly round deep scars from bullet wounds.
And every day, as Ethan looked at his wounds, he could not help but wonder, 'Were these wounds something from that accident that day?'
'No, that wasn't possible.'
the memory of his arms around her still too fresh, too potent.
Ethan traced the long scar with his fingertips. It wasn't painful at all. But there was a sense of pride, some deep accomplishment that he felt from inside which was unexplainable.
** ** ** ** **
[
Author's Note: My Stories are generally more detailed and slow paced.
Q: So what do you guys prefer?
A. Fast paced with slight loopholes and skips.
B. Slow and detailed
]