Written by: Amar Patel
Disclaimer:
The following story is fictional. The author (myself) is older than 21, anyone who is under the legal age (according to their country, state, or provincial laws) to view erotic material should immediately dissuade themselves from reading further.
The story is fictional and similarities to events and persons (living or dead) are purely coincidental and unintentional. If you are offended by homosexual erotica or it is illegal for you to read such material. Please read no further.
Copyright:
The story may not be copied, distributed, in any way, shape or form without consent from the author.
Opinions and Improvements can be sent to my email: patelamar360@gmail.com
This my first story please enjoy :)
Indian American Relations
It was a crisp day in Chicago; a nostalgic breeze carried the scent of the city. Murali was on his way home from work. It would be his third year in the U.S in a matter of weeks; he migrated from India seeking a better life instead of having to work countless hours at a call center. He was considered a handsome man by his friends and the passerby, average height but toned from working at a gym, coffee colored skin and short black hair, and a smile that would melt the hearts of men and women alike. His package at 8 inches hard and rippling abs were his covered surprises that anyone would drool over. He thought about sexual encounters but never got around to it due to his schedule. Thus, he would blow his nut every day to relieve himself.
As he walked down the street something caught his eye. A young man stood at the coffee stand on the corner, he was muscular and his muscles were barely contained by his shirt. His black hair was cut short and spiked and his hazel eyes seemed to call to him. As Murali got closer his throat felt dry at the man's handsome face, pearly white teeth and 5 o'clock shadow made him rugged looking and Murali felt his cock begin to harden. He approached the stand and sat on one of the tall stools.
"Can I have one latte with a shot of hazelnut and a croissant?" Murali felt his heart thumping against his chest. The sexy beast sat only a mere foot away and Murali was tempted to rip the clothes off him.
The barista took the order and went into the back; Murali dropped his gaze to avoid making things worse. A sudden tap on his shoulder made him jump. Murali turned and saw hazel eyes looking back.
"Sorry buddy didn't mean to scare ya?" The man grinned; he looked like an Italian model.
"It is okay... Uhm...you just took me by surprise." Murali felt his face turn hot.
"Ha-ha it is just that I've seen you at the gym and just wanted to say hi." The man's breath smelt sweet and Murali wanted to taste it.
"Oh yes, you are with the fire department right?" Murali nervously asked
"Yeah, name's Erik. Erik Calleja." Erik extended his hand
Hands shaking Murali took the big hand and shook it "Murali. Murali Khan."
Erik smiled again "Khan, that's Indian right??
"Yes, and you are Spanish?"
"Nah, my last name is Spanish but I am 100 percent Maltese and I don't mean the dog either.
"Ha-ha my mistake."
"Listen; if you are at the gym come find me. I'm there almost every day. We can work out or somethin. You seem like a pretty decent fella so hope we can be friends. Erik and Murali exchanged a farewell and Erik walked off.
Murali felt as if his heart would collapse from the nervousness. He watched Erik walk away and couldn't help but notice the nice firm ass that slowly rounded the corner.
---- End of Chapter I
Sorry About the lack of sex. I am one of those romantic types who like a progressive storyline.
More to come soon!