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 is the second installment in Indian American Relations. Thus far, I got positive reviews and took some opinions into account. So enjoy and sit back. If you wish to continue to read mine and other authors works, it is important you donate to Nifty. They have provided a rich amount of stories for your enjoyment so it is only fair you give back ;). Note this chapter cntains religious material due to the Maltese culture. This does not mean I am imploring the religion on my readers,
Chapter II
Murali stretched out in his bed and yawned. He slowly rose and went to the bathroom to relieve himself and prepare for the day. He removed his clothes and gazed at himself in the mirror, he was in need of a shave and he ran his hand down his chest. He sighed, his pecs were beginning to grow less firm and his six pack was in need of toning. He tried to avoid the gym for a week since the encounter with the sexy Maltese fireman. Murali felt his cock harden at the mere thought of Erik, the caramel skin and his dark hair. The rugged five o'clock shadow and his hazel eyes that mesmerized Murali. Murali remembered his masculine features his bright smile and the figure of the statues in Rome. Murali looked at himself again and compared Erik's face with his own. Erik's was a beautiful combination of the mediterranean and arab worlds that the Maltese were known for, a man that would put models to shame with his full lips and seductive voice. He could've been in a magazine if he wanted to. Murali felt his face flush, he was handsome in India with his light brown eyes and his heart warming smiles. His lips were thick and kissable and his dark coffee skin caught the eye of many tourists. How could he compare? Murali thought.
He let his mind wander as the hot water enveloped his body. Murali soaped his washboard abs then slowly moved up and down his chest. He let his fingers gently rub his brown nipples and encircled the tips with his fingers, with a slight moan he let his hand grasp his rod. His hand began rubbing up and down the thick brown shaft and he found himself rolling his foreskin back and forth over his cock head. Murali imagined what Erik would look like, his bulging muscles under that tight shirt. The caramel skin and brown nipples he could suck on. Those abs that he can run his fingers down and trace as he kissed those succulent lips. That firm ass he could squeeze, and those broad manly shoulders he can lean on. Finally, the prize. Murali could only wonder what it would be. A long thick shaft maybe 10 or 12 inches compared to Murali's 8, a slightly darker brown head that fit well with his skin. Aaah how sweet Erik's cum would be on his tounge and how hot it would be in his tight pink indian hole and plastered across his face. Murali stroked faster and felt his balls clench and shot jets of cream between his fingers and on the shower wall. He huffed and panted and licked his indian man cream off his hand. Then he remembered a simple fact, he was a shy man and a fantasy will stay a fantasy unless a miracle occurs. How can he seduce a seemingly straight stud?
--- Meanwhile at the Calleja Residence
Erik awoke to the blaring sound of his alarm. He pulled himself out of bed and did his daily routine of showering and brushing his teeth. He gelled his black hair into a stylish fashion and donned a blue plaid button down. At the age of 25 he was at his best in terms of physical prowness. He passed the fire fighting brutal work outs and his once under toned body became hard and desired. He pulled on black shorts and grabbed his duffel bag for his trip to the gym. He made himself a breakfast shake and made some toast. The message icon was displayed on his phone, a voice mail. He pressed the phone to his ear and listened.
"Bongu Nazzarenu.... Qed nimmissjak (Good morning Nazzarenu... I miss you)." the voice was feeble almost a whisper.
"Nanna..." Erik with a sigh put the cell on the table and felt a sinking feeling envelop him. His nanna was on her deathbed at the age of 83. The doctos say that it is because of the passing of her husband Erik's nannu (grandfather). He does not hear his maltese name often, only through her. He should have stayed in Malta but his ambitions led him to the U.S . 10 years without seeing her. He felt his heart throb at the thought of abandoning her when she needs him now.
Erik leaned back and gazed at the Maltese flag hanging above his television. His parents were in Malta now as well. They left 3 years ago, the sheer contrast made them uncomfortable and homesick. Yet, they called everyday to leave 15 minute long messages in rapid maltese. He had adjusted to life in the U.S but his mother tounge did not weaken. He walked over to the counter and grabbed a wooden box from the drawer. He withdrew a rosary and knelt. He did not pray too often but he felt that this was a time for it. He held the gold chain and let the pearls dangle with the golden cross.
"Sliem ghalik Marija, bil-grazzja mimlija, is-Sinjur mieghek, imbierka inti fost in-nisa u mbierek il-frott tal-guf tieghek, Gesu. Qaddisa Marija, omm Alla, itlob ghalina, midinbin, issa w fis-siegha tal-mewt taghna. Amen."
He recited the Hail Mary in reverence and let the white pearls fall around his neck, the cross hung in the middle of his chest. With a last recite he stood and decided that the gym would be his best relief, he picked up and called in to work saying that he could not make it. He departed his house his worries hanging heavy.
-- The gym
Murali was curling the dumbells and sweat dripped down his forehead. His arm muscles bulged and he huffed as he appraoched his 300th curl. With last minute strength he placed the weights down and wiped his face with a towel. Murali went to the locker room to fetch his water from the locker. As he entered he felt his heart thump as he saw Erik sitting on a bench tying his shoes. Murali saw a grimace on Erik's face, his hands were clasped and rested in his lap. Murali did not know whether to say hello but that anxiety was broken when Erik looked up.
"Oh.. hey Khan. Didn't see ya there." Erik gave a forced grin.
"Hello, Calleja you look stressed my friend." Murali sat next to Erik.
"Just dealing with somethin no worries." Erik scratched the back of his head. " Hey uhm... let's work out."
"Alright."Murali did not know how to comfort a stranger but felt that this is a good start.
Throughout their workout Erik was distant and responded in one word answers. Murali felt guilty and an idea hit his head. There is nothing better to lift the spirits then good food and a happy atmosphere.
"Erik? would you like to come with me to lunch? I know this great Indian place down the street." Murali was shaking. "Hmmm? oh yeah... that would be good I guess." Erik sighed and felt that he shouldn't pass up a cheer me up session.
They headed to the locker room and started to dress out. Murali out of the corner of his eye saw Erik in his underwear. Erik's body was exactly as he pictured, a maltese adonis with a large bulge in his boxers. Murali seeing Erik turning finished dressing and waved Erik to meet him out front. Moments later, Erik came out and both of them walked to the Indian joint that Murali went to often. It was designed traditionally, the lighting was bright and hindu gods were placed on shelfs. A stage sat near the front of the dining area where performances of bollywood dance took place. Erik gazed about in curiosity and Murali smiled in success. They were seated and in a half hour were served their orders. They ate in silence, an awkward air formed over the table. Finally, Murali spoke after having to muster the courage.
"How's the food Calleja?" Murali was nervous.
"This is what I needed... a good hearty meal of curry. By the way call me Erik." Erik took another mouthful of curry.
"I am glad you like it E-erik..." Murali gulped
"Thanks for this Murali , you're a good guy." Erik flashed a heavenly smile.
Murali felt his face flush " You're welcome"
Erik looked curiously at him " Hey your face is red hahaha! Is it the curry?"
Murali sputtered and quickly drank a swig of water "Yes it is the curry.."
"Well I'm done eatin so let me get the bill this time around."
"I cannot let you do that."
"It's not a problem for me to pay Murali, I owe you anyhow. Just relax alrighty?"
"You owe me how?"
"I was dealing with somethin, and this made me feel better. Nice to know you can rely on someone... especially someone you barely met. We should hang out more often, here I am going to give you my number and call me if you want to do somethin." Erik tore a piece of napkin and picked up the pen from the bill. With a slide ,his number landed in front of Murali.
" Thank you, I will call as soon as I can." Murali smiled from ear to ear, his soul was filled with joy. Murali wanted to jump out of his seat but restrained himself.
"Gotta go, I have something to arrange. Hope to hear from ya soon!" Erik stood, and with a slight wave departed.
Murali watched him go , it was 4 p.m and he should head home as well. Murali thanked the Cashier and left.
Erik drove down the street looking for his destination, with a last scan he spotted it. He got out of his car and entered into the business. It was a typical office, a receptionist sat at her desk spinning a pen and the lights of the office made her look pale and gave a sheen to her brown hair in a tight bun. Erik approached her and she quickly looked up with curiosity and indulgence of Erik.
"How can I help you today?" she asked adjusting her hair.
" Is Mr. Vella available?"
"Do you have an appointment?" She batted her eyelashes at him and Erik ignored it.
"No... but tell him it is important."
"One moment please." She pressed a button on the receiver
"What is it Nancy?" a voice said, it sounded groggy and tired.
"Someone is here to see you." Nancy replied
"Does this person have a name?" the voice sounded agitated.
"Name?" She said looking at Erik
"Nazzarenu Calleja." Erik answered
"Nazzarenu Calleja, sir." Nancy spoke into the speaker.
When the voice replied it sounded more lively." Send him in."
Nancy stood and led Erik to a oak door, a gold plaque was attached with ornate letters. It read "Rikkardu Vella, Travel Agent to Western and Southern Europe." Nancy opened the door and pressed her hand into Erik's shoulder to lead him first. Erik turned and nodded in thanks and she closed the door behind her. The office Erik entered was simple, a map of Europe hung on the wall and posters of cities lined the walls. A cherry desk sat in the middle of the room and a man sat writing furiously. He was what a typical business man would be, a pale gray suit and a light blue tie and the graying hair in the chestnut. The man looked up and smiled. Erik sat and gazed at his family's friend, his handsome features were aged but still prominent and his blue eyes were still a reflection of the sea. His hair made him distinguished and Rikkardu was still the man that used to be the apple of many women and his wife.
Rikkardu still spoke with a European accent and his pearly white teeth shown. " Nazzarenu! What a surprise!"
" Bongu Sinjur Vella (Good Morning Mr. Vella)." Erik sat in the chair oppisite of Rikkardu.
"It seems like just yesterday you parents were begging me to take them home haha." Rikkardu laid down his pen and gazed at Erik.
"I need a favor Sinjur." Erik said
" I would assume so, since you are here after ten years. It is not like you decided to have coffee with an old man hahaha"
"I need to go to Malta in maybe a month or two, could ya plan me a trip to Valletta?"
"Look at you talking like an American! My god it is like you were born here Nazzarenu, could you not ask your parents?"
"Sinjur Vella please.." a lump formed in Erik's throat.
For the first time Rikkardu's smile faltered and worry fell " I will see what I can do for you. Come back in a week or two."
"Grazzi (Thank you) Sinjur." Erik held out his hand.
" How american can you be? My wife would be dissapointed if she saw you now. A boy who used to write pages and talk for hours in Maltese!" Rikkardu stood and hugged Erik. " We are family no? This is not business for me with you."
Erik patted the back of the shorter man's shoulder. "I guess you're right, too much American in me now ." Erik chuckled
Rikkardu released him and handed Erik a business card " You need to call more, I do not want to be dead by the time you call."
" You're only 55 Sinjur."
" Yes but look! Ten years, you go from bean pole to hunk! Be on beach charm some ladies. Next time I see, you be married !"
Erik blushed in embarrassment " Sinjur, I still have plenty of time for those.... sort of things."
" I am not rushing you!... well maybe a little. What you like? I help. French? Spanish? Italian? Pretty girls many place!"
"Yes yes, let's just stop this talk for now." Erik scratched his head in nervousness.
"So long as my wife plan it, traditional wedding I hope. In a big cathedral in Spain?" Rikkardu looked eager.
"I will be sure to give you a call for that too...." Erik sighed.
" Fine fine Nazzarenu, go go! I do this for you and you charm a good girl for me yes? Farewell " Rikkardu grinned
"I rather charm fires..." Erik muttered as he walked out of the office.
"Have a great day." Nancy called out
" Thanks you too." Erik said back
Erik walked with his hands in his pockets and whistled. A aroma filled his nostrils as he rounded the corner and he looked up and girnned. " Man do I need some curry."
Murali danced to the music as he correlated his moves with his partner. Bollywood dance was exhausting yet a pleasant expierence. With a final twirl of his partner he caught her and the song ended. She smiled in shyness and told him good job. Murali wipes his forehead with his hand and started packing his things. He put away his traditional clothes and donned his tank and jeans. He ran his hand through his hair and felt the returning curls, with a quick good bye he left the studio and walked towards home. As he approached the local market he spotted a stand that stood out. A rather interesting women in a green sari with gold trim sat on a stool by a makeshift sign. She was heavy set and her black hair was tied in a long braid, a red dot rested on her forehead and her fat arms were covered with bracelets. She nodded at Murali and waved him over.
She spoke with a heavy accent and her face had a pound of make up from what Murali could see. " Care to hear your fortune?"
Murali was skepctical and decided to play along. He sat and asked " How much?"
" 7 dollars is fair? " She responed with a smile, her lipstick rubbed off on her teeth.
"I suppose." Murali handed her the money and she took it without hesitation.
"May I see your palm?" She held out her hand in invitation.
Murali gave her his hand and she held it for a minute or so. " Aaaah you are blessed by Parvati."
Murali knew of Parvati goddess of love but still was skeptical. She saw his face and continued.
"You will soon be in love and they will be quite the catch. Parvati has favor in you.' She smiled
" That is quite va-" Murlai started to speak but she held her finger up
"United by change like Parvati and Shiva." She let go of his hand and bowed her head.
"Thank you." Murali stood and started to walk away, he looked back and the woman winked.
Murali entered the market and grabbed a can of mango juice, he chugged it and disposed of it in the waste basket. He eventually reached his apartment and climbed the stairs. He walked into the dark apartment and flicked on the lights. He undressed and showered and after changing opened his laptop to his email. 5 messages were new, one from his parents who congratulated him on his teaching job, two from his sisters who said they were going on their honeymoons,one from his brother who apparently is going to a U.N meeting. And the last one was a coupon for some travel agency. Murali sighed and laid back on the bed. His siblings were successful yet he could barely scratch the surface. He lifted Erik's number and started dialing then put the cell down. Did he have an exscuse to call? Or could he just call? Erik did look upset earlier and Murali felt that he needed the space. He lifted his cell again and unlocked it. " I might as well call." Murali thought.
The phone rang for awhile and Murali hoped he was home.
" Hello? " Erik said
Murali jumped " Oh hello Erik!"
"Murali?"
"Yes it is me."
" Guess you recovered from the curry huh? Funny thought I would be the one to capitulate first."
"Haha yes I feel much better." Murali was relieved his lie worked.
"So I guess you want to meet up right?"
"Yes, are you free?" Murali crossed his fingers.
"Well I can't really go anywhere but do you wanna come over to my place?" Murali felt a surge of panic as he said this.
"Oh yes that would be great." Murali strained to respond
"Alrighty, since we had indian food how about some Maltese food? I can cook."
"That sounds good, what day?"
"Eh, how about friday ? We can watch some soccer or whatever indians watch haha." even his laugh was sexy Murali thought.
" Friday is good, I will see you at the gym too so we can plan more."
" I will see you then Murali."
" See you."
Murali pressed end and eagerly bounced on the bed. He felt relieved that he had the chance to get to know Erik better.
---- End of Chapter II
This was mainly a characterization chapter. Hope you enjoy I made it longer and added some erotica here and there. This is going to be a long story. More to come soon my loyal readers. The language within the text is Maltese and i would like to give thanks to my friend who helped me without knowing the reason.