The Migrant - Pro. Pt.1 & Pt.2

The Migrant
Prologue

Smiling happily, Grace hugged her effectively empty bookbag tightly to her chest as she strode calmly along the sidewalk, the last day of her sophomore year behind her, and the warm welcoming summer vacation ahead. She couldn’t quite explain why, but she had a feeling that this year would be different than the previous, and that her life would be changed forever, and for the better. It was an innate feeling, and rather than question it, she’d decided to embrace it as though it was something decidedly more concrete.

“Hey Grace, wait up!” a voice called after her, and without even needing to look back over her shoulder, she knew it belonged to Kevin.

Slowing up a pace or two, she allowed her childhood friend to catch-up, and once he’d fallen in step beside her, she resumed her trek toward home. “I thought your mother was picking you up today?” she asked him, her bluish-green eyes casting a glance at him as they walked together. Kevin was a short and slender boy her age, a week younger in fact, and they’d known each other since kindergarten when Kevin’s ****** had moved into the home next to hers.

“Nah, it’s Thursday, remember? She’s at work late.” He answered.

With an understanding nod, Grace recalled how Kevin’s mother had been a Registered Nurse at the local clinic, and that on Thursdays she tended to stay late to volunteer time with blood donor programs and the like. His mother had often stated how she thought of Grace as the ******** she’d never had, and how she and Kevin may well have been brother-and-sister after all these years. For her, there’d once been a time she’d maybe thought of Kevin in a slightly different light, but that was before he’d come out to her as gay.

“I can’t wait to sleep in tomorrow.” Kevin remarked with an infectious giddiness.

“You already sleep in all the time!” Grace retorted teasingly.

“That’s on the weekends. Tomorrow is a weekday. It’s special.” He explained, to which she shook her head in amusement.

Nearing a busy intersection, they stopped to allow traffic to pass by at some speed, Grace taking a moment to peer over at an adjacent lot where a number of new apartments had been built up in the past few months. From what she knew, they were intended to be used as housing for migrants coming into the country in search of asylum, though she’d yet to actually see anyone living in them yet. That is, until today, as for the first time she noticed a number of unfamiliar people milling about the nice homes, carrying about their business as they saw fit. They were all of them dark-skinned, some even near pitch in tone, and most were males of about the age 30 or so.

As she stared over at them out of curiosity, wondering who they were, where they had come from, or what kind of troubles they’d been through on their journey to get here, the light at the intersection had turned over, and Kevin had stepped out ahead of her. Though, instead of herself following, she was held in place as one of the dark-skinned men stood opposite of her position, his own eyes cast in her direction, as though he were sizing her up. Immediately, and intense wave of nerves washed over Grace, and she felt flustered enough so as to swallow uncomfortably. The way he looked at her, as though his dark-eyes saw right through her pale exterior, struck deeply, and left an impression she’d not soon forget.

“Hey! Hey Grace! You coming?” Kevin called out, and snapping back to the moment, she blinked away whatever momentary nervous malaise had besieged her, and she stumbled out after Kevin.

“Yeah, sorry. I was... umm, just distracted a moment.” She explained.

Though, as she once again fell in line beside her friend, she couldn’t help but peer back in the direction of the man as he watched her crossing the street. He was tall. Broadly built. His skin tone very dark in contrast to her own, and his eyes a shade of deep brown. He was also incredibly handsome, with chiseled facial features, and strikingly sharp cheek bones. Grace stared at him, a fluttering in the pit of her stomach mounting as she reached the other side of the intersection, and couldn’t yet pull her gaze from his own, their eyes locked on one another. She wondered why he wouldn’t look away, even now as she kept on walking, her own gaze starting to falter as she tried not to turn her head in his direction, but rather just keep peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.

“You know that guy?” asked Kevin, once again snapping Grace back to her surroundings.

“Hmm?” She turned back to him, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “Oh... oh, no! I just... I was just curious about who had moved into that development. Y’know?” she nervously averted her focus from Kevin, replaying the gaze she’d shared with the dark-skinned stranger in her mind.

What was it about him that had captivated her?

What was it about her that had interested him?

The questions mounted for her as she and Kevin drew further and further from the intersection, and inescapably drawn to it, she quickly shot a glance back over her shoulder in the direction of the man, and once more felt her heart flutter as she noticed was still watching her.

“Well... I’m gonna see if Sean is online, and if he wants to play some DOTA.” Kevin announced as he broke off from Grace, headed toward his home. With a nod, she acknowledged what he said, though she didn’t really register any of it, instead she just kept on walking past his home, occasionally looking back toward the apartment complex in the distance and noticing that the man hadn’t yet averted his own focus of her. Stopping before the walkway that led up to her front door, she stood there for a long moment, her bookbag still held tightly to her chest, nervously fidgeting in her stance as she too stared back at him. Soon enough, he smiled broadly, which in turn elicited an instinctual smile of her own, even a slight blush coming to her pale features.

She didn’t understand why, but without even thinking about it, she pulled on hand free from where it had clung to her bookbag, and casually waved at him. An instant later, he waved back. Smiling even broader, Grace tucked her head down bashfully and hurriedly made for her front door, slipping inside, and closing it shut behind her. Giddy with an unusual energy, she giggled for a few seconds before running up the stairwell and turning right in order to enter her bedroom. Slamming shut that door behind her, she tossed the bookbag unto her bed, and went over to her window so as to look out and see if the man was still where he had been just a minute earlier.

Indeed as she peered out, he stood there, a broad smile on his face as he shook his head. Biting her lower lip, Grace felt her nervousness intensify as she unlatched the window, and slid it up, immediately a rush of heat hitting her in the face from the outside, alleviating some of the frigid cold of her home’s air-conditioner. Leaning forward, she saw the man’s gaze shift as he caught sight of her in the window, and again she felt compelled to wave, a wave which was again reciprocated. As she glanced out at him, an unsureness over what else to do soon manifesting, there came a knock at her bedroom door which drew her attention.

Hastily shutting the window and doing her best not to seem as though she’d done anything elicit, she jumped over unto her bed and immediately reached for her iPhone, bringing up her Instagram before calling out to whoever had knocked.

“Yes?” she said.

The door soon opened, and through it Grace’s father stepped. “Hey kiddo! Last day of school over, now just the first day of summer tomorrow! How’d everything go today?” he asked.

Grace sat up on her bed, smiling brightly for her father as he approached her bed and sat down beside her. He was an amnesty lawyer for the state, and this was one of the few weeks of the year in which he wasn’t flying around the country, so she cherished these rare opportunities. “Not too bad, but I mean, it’s the last day; we just sit around, talk, and what not while the teachers collect a paycheck.” A shared chuckle between the two, Grace’s *** crossed one leg over the other as he breathed a sigh of contentment.

“Well, you’re going to have the house to yourself for about two-weeks starting tomorrow.” He began to explain.

“I thought you would be home this week?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

“I thought so too, but it turns out they need me in DC for a trial. But you’ll make do. You always do, after all.” There was a genuine bittersweetness in his voice that Grace picked up on. It had been there ever since her mother had run off with another man when she was just five-years-old, though she’d at least been semi-communicative with Grace at least. As for her father, his mother hadn’t said a single word to him in the ten-years that had passed, and Grace hadn’t yet put together why. All she knew was that her mother had left with another man, started a new ******, and that her father had at some point in the last few years decided he was, like Kevin, a gay man.

Through it all, Grace was supportive of her father, naturally; even attending a few Pride events with him prior to the pandemic shutting such events down. She loved her father. Felt bad for him, after how her mother had treated him, but whenever she’d shown any sort of frustration about it, he had reassured Grace that it was okay. That he had understood why her mother had gone, and that he held no ill-will for her, which confused Grace.

“Yeah... I guess I’ll be alright.” She said somberly.

“I’m sorry kiddo, I am. But I promise when I get back, we can go do something together.”

Nodding and giving a half-hearted smile as he leant in to hug her tightly, Grace let whatever sorrow she felt about being left alone melt away, and instead embraced him warmly.

“Besides, we can still do something tonight. How about we order in some Thai food and watch a sappy romantic comedy together?” he poised.

Without even needing to think it over, Grace smiled and nodded an affirmative.

“Alright! I’ll see you at five for our date, yeah?” He teased, eliciting another giggle from her before disappearing out of her bedroom door, and closing it shut behind him.

For a long moment, Grace sat on her bed thinking about the situation her father was in, and again trying to understand why it worked the way it did. Her mother had never been specific about what it was that had driven her away, other than that she proclaimed time-and-time again, that she’d been in love with her new husband. In fact, Grace had met DeMarcus, her mother’s husband, a few times and indeed he seemed a kind, strong, and handsome man. But Grace couldn’t help but imagine there was something more that had been at play, that she’d not been privy to; that neither her mother, nor her father had been willing to explain to her.

It was frustrating.

With a sigh however, Grace pushed the recurring deliberation from the forefront of her thoughts and instead stood up from her bed, remembering what she’d been engrossed in before her father had come in to interrupt her. Slowly, she strode back over to her still open window, through which the hot California summer was radiating in, and she looked to see if the man were still there. As she searched though, he had left where he was, the corner of the apartment complex vacant of anyone at all. Waiting another minute before giving up, Grace closed shut the window and walked over to where her MacBook awaited her at her desk.

“Who was he?” she asked herself, plopping down into the desk chair.

“I wonder... where he came from.” She said aloud, unable to escape the lingering effect of the man’s gaze, and her curiosity about him. Instead, she reached out to touch the sensor on her MacBook and brought up a Google search, intent on finding some piece of news about migrants being emplaced into the newly built apartment complex nearby.

The Migrant
Part One

The night had been a fun one.

Her father had ordered Thai, like he’d promised, and they’d enjoyed it together while watching an awfully cheesy romantic drama/comedy from the 90s starring Hugh Grant. Halfway through, Grace wanted to give up on the film, but her father insisted on finishing. Grace suspected that there was an ulterior motive to his want to finish, and that maybe he’d found Hugh Grant attractive or something like that. Once the movie had ended, they went out together for some Ice Cream from a local place before returning home and called it a night. By the morning, waking up late after having slept in, as Kevin so expressed an excitement about, Grace’s father had already left for his business trip, a note for her posted on the inside of her door.

‘Hey kiddo, didn’t want to wake you on your first day of summer! I’ll text you when I land in DC! Take care, have fun, and remember that I love you!’ the note read.

After fixing herself a quick breakfast of some Cheerios, during which she’d continued to ponder over the dark-skinned man who’d been staring after her, Grace decided she’d head over to the apartment complex and say hello. After all, they were her new neighbors, and she wanted them to feel welcome, given all the strife they’d likely been through in getting here. From what she’d read online, the complex had been built by the State Government, and indeed had been intended to serve as housing for migrants that had come in from North Africa. Of course, the comment section underneath the article she’d read about it, had been littered with racism which sickened her.

Knowing the importance of being kind to strangers and wanting to make a good impression on these beleaguered people, Grace took to baking a quick and easy batch of oatmeal-raisin cookies using a recipe that her mother had taught her. If she was going to do this, she was going to do it right, she’d told herself, which meant bringing them a gift of welcoming, in this case, two-dozen cookies crammed into a Tupperware container, with a piece of tape on the exterior, and the words ‘Welcome to the neighborhood!’ written in sharpie on it.

Wearing a simple low-cut blue-blouse that she’d inherited when her mother left, it adorned in a pattern of soft-yellow stars, Grace also wore a pair of tight-fitting gray yoga pants that went down to her mid-calf, and lastly the myriad gold necklaces and charms that she always wore.

Emerging from the air-conditioned home into the almost noonday sun, Grace peered up to the almost cloudless sky and once more felt excited about the summer that awaited her. Skipping gleefully a few steps from her front door, she spun on heel and walked toward the apartment complex in a pair of simple black flats, while in her hands she carried the Tupperware, Grace once more felt a flutter in her chest as she drew nearer to the complex, just a few houses down the street from her own. As she approached however, she saw a milling of several dark-skinned men, whom she assumed to be a portion of the North African migrants and mustering up the courage to introduce herself to them, she took a deep breath.

It didn’t take long for the men to notice her, one of them who’d been facing in her direction alerting his fellows to her presence, and they all turned round to look her over. It was then, that she noticed that one of the men, had been the very same that had been staring after her the day before. Almost immediately, Grace smiled warmly upon seeing him, to which he also smiled. Nervously, though still enthused about having gone this far, Grace stopped a few feet before them, and after a short bout of silence permeated, once more found the courage to speak.

“Umm... hi! I’m Grace, I live just over there.” She motioned in the direction of her home. “I know you just moved into the neighborhood, and well... I umm... I wanted to just come over, say hello, and to welcome you!” With that, she held out the Tupperware container of cookies, and beamed positivity to the five men, her gaze shifting from one to the other before finding a focus on the man she’d seen the day before. “These... umm, they’re cookies. Oatmeal raisin. My mother’s recipe.” She explained nervously, her hands clasping the contained fidgeting uneasily as silence lingered on.

“Thank you, Grace.” Finally one of the men spoke, stepping forward to accept her gift of welcome in his strong hands, which brushed against her own. Indeed, it’d been the same man that had watched after her, and she couldn’t help but blush at hearing his deep baritone voice, heavily accented by an exoticness she could only assume to be native to whatever country he’d come from. “I am Hasan, and this Ahmed, Joban, Malik, and Kasim.” He introduced the four other men, all of whom seemed to be sizing her up, their eyes trailing up and down her figure as she stood before them.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Grace added, her now freed hands clasping together in front.

“And you, my dear.” Replied Hasan, who handed off the container to the man identified as Ahmed.

Once more, a bout of silence lingered as she stood before the five men, each of whom had nearly a foot on her in terms of height. Nervousness still omnipresent, she cleared her throat audibly and cast a glance around her surroundings.

“I umm... are the apartments to your liking?” she asked, immediately blushing beet red at the somewhat silly nature of her question, as if she had any control over the quality of their apartments or could do anything about it if they were substandard.

Grinning more broadly, Hasan nodded in affirmation before speaking. “Yes. They are nice. Please.” He said simply, before casting a glance back at the other four as if to say he wanted them to stay put. A step forward, he held out an arm as though to motion for Grace to fall in line beside him while they walked. “Allow me to give you a tour of our building.” The confidence with which he so spoke, and the manner in which he carried himself spoke far more volumes than did his words, and without question, Grace began to walk beside him, a sense of comfort evident in how she seemed to relax.

“Thank you, I umm... I’d like that.” She said.

Together, they approached a set of double-doors that led into the lobby of one of the three tall apartment buildings, inside of which the scent of fresh paint was still overwhelming. “They built these things so quickly. I was worried that they’d have skipped some steps in the process.” She explained as she walked beside him, her gaze shifting around the surprisingly modern styling. The floors were of some kind of walnut wooding, or at least a laminate that appeared to be walnut. The walls had been painted a pristine white satin finish, and the furnishings of the lobby were of modest quality as though the company in charge had raided an IKEA depot.

On the walls were a number of intriguing art fixtures; black, green, and red a prominent trio of colors and the outline of continent of Africa equally as prominent. Obviously, whoever had been hired to decorate had put in some effort and had hoped to foster a welcoming environment.

“No. They seem to be of top-quality.” Answered Hasan as he led Grace to a nearby elevator.

“Umm... where do you come from? I mean... you, personally?” she asked, this being one of the primary questions that had been eating away at her since she’d seen the man. “If you don’t mind me asking, I’m just... curious.”

“I don’t mind at all.” He replied. “I come from Eritrea.”

“Eritrea! Oh wow! That’s neat!” she exclaimed gleefully.

The broad smile on Hasan’s face returned once more, and Grace couldn’t help but echo it, the soft smile on her face stretching until she erupted with a tenuous giggle. A hand soon finding the back of her neck so as to help quell the nerves she was feeling, though internally her conviction about having made this gesture had never been more affirmed. This was a necessary thing to do, and the polite thing to do, especially for these people who needed to be treated with welcoming and acceptance, rather than rejection and fear. A second later, the elevator doors opened, and Hasan entered, turning to wait for Grace to join him. Unthinking, Grace sidled forward into the elevator and settled in across from him as he pushed a button halfway up.

“When did you arrive?” she asked as the elevator began moving.

“In America? A few weeks ago. But we were held at a hotel in town until these buildings were ready for us to move into.” Again, she caught the heftiness of his African accent, though it wasn’t difficult for her to discern his words. “Have you always lived where you do now?” he asked.

“Hmm... oh, umm...” stammering as she recalled how he had watched her head home the day before and had even seen her wave back at him from her bedroom window, she nodded. “Yeah... I’ve always lived there.”

A moment later, the elevator came to a stop, and the doors parted at the middle, allowing both Hasan and Grace to exit. Following after the tall handsome dark-skinned man, she had little mind regarding the reason he’d brought her here, or what to expect. As far as she was concerned, he could be trusted, and so she would. After all, he had reacted to her kindly, and in fact welcomed her, just as she had welcomed him. “Is this your floor?” she asked, as he led her on down a hallway past a few other apartment doors. Passing by one, she could hear elevated voices from within, and for an instant thought she heard the impassioned moans of a woman.

“Yes. My apartment is just down here. I thought I would show you, since you seemed so curious.” He explained, stopping at one door in particular. Pressing a keycard up to a sensor attached to the door, it unlocked with an audible click, and Hasan pushed it open for Grace to enter through.

“Oh... uhh, thank you.” She said simply as she stepped inside, walking a few feet until she arrived in the midst of a well-furnished living room, complete with a sizeable television position at it’s center against the wall. “Oh wow! This is lovely!” She beamed, her greenish-blue eyes trailing all around the beautifully styled apartment. Indeed, Grace felt wholly positive about the nice accommodations that had been afforded to Hasan, and the rest of the migrants. She felt pride at how they were being provided for. “I hope it meets your expectations!” she exclaimed, striding over to a nearby double paned door that led out to a balcony that overlooked the courtyard below.

“More or so.” Hasan answered her.

Lost in her curiosity still, Grace wandered past the double pane doors and toward another open doorway, in which she saw a kitchenette and dining space. “This is great!” she said, gliding through the kitchenette before stopping to turn back, curious that Hasan hadn’t followed her. “Hello?” she called out. “Hasan?” exiting the kitchenette, she emerged back into the living room and looked about for the man, though he was absent. “Umm... Hasan?”

“Yes, dear?” he answered from behind, causing Grace to jump in surprise.

Spinning about, she affixed her gaze upon him once more, and instantly felt herself go ice-white in utter shock; not because he had surprised her, but because he now stood, from head-to-toe, entirely in the nude before her. Grace couldn’t help but allow her gaze to trail down over the whole of his Adonis like body, soon finding a lingering focus of the massive penis which hung heavily between his thighs, accompanied by a pair of pendulous testicles. With a gasp, Grace’s mouth fell open in awe of what she was seeing. Of course she’d seen nude men before; be it on the internet, or in anatomy textbooks, or when she’d seen Kevin naked last summer when they’d gone skinny dipping down the creek together. But never had she seen a man in as peak physical condition as Hasan was, or had she seen a penis as overwhelmingly large as his was.

“I... uhh...” stammering nervously as she struggled to tear her gaze away from Hasan’s groin, Grace backed away from him, her heart pumping a mile-a-minute inside of her chest. Panic was starting to settle in, and she didn’t know what to do, or if she could do it.

“Don’t mind me. I am simply getting comfortable in my home.” He explained, stepping past her on his way into the kitchenette. “Would you like a beverage? Some water perhaps?” he called out, either uncaring or ******* of how nervous and uncomfortable his nudity had made Grace.

“Umm... I uhh, no... no thank you!” she answered, averting her eyes as best she could as he strode by her, though she still peered after him, appraising the firmness of his body from the behind. The sight of his physical perfection in the nude had immediately had an effect on Grace, as aside from the considerable panic she was experiencing, she also felt a rush of arousal the likes of which she’d really not had before. Young woman as she was, she’d of course thought about sex, and assumed that someday she would engage in it, but as it was, that moment hadn’t yet come. But, standing there, in his presence as he went so casually on about his business, Grace couldn’t deny how utterly handsome and incredibly sexy of a man he was.

“I must say, I am feeling very welcomed to your... neighborhood?” he explained as he emerged from the kitchenette, a bottled water in his strong hands. “I thank you for your kindness, and your hospitality.”

“Umm... sure, it’s... no problem... I’m happy to have helped you feel welcome.” She struggled. “So... I umm, I should probably head on home. I have... umm... something I need to do.” Again, fighting the instinctual urge to stare at his large manhood, Grace began to backpedal toward the doorway that led out of his apartment. “So umm... I hope you and your friends enjoy the cookies, I umm... I’m sure I’ll see you, and them again and about, and I’m so happy... that you, umm... that you’re feeling so welcome here now! It was nice meeting you Hasan! Bye!” in a panic, Grace grabbed at the door to leave and hastily retreated out of his apartment, and jogged to the elevator, her hand slapping the call button repeatedly in order to summon it faster.

“Oh my god!” she whispered to herself just before the elevator arrived, and she boarded it.

A minute or so later, Grace briskly walked out of the lobby of the building, back through the courtyard, past Ahmed, Joban, Malik, and Kasim, who watched her with intent, broad grins evident in their faces as she made a retreat.

“What the fuck?!” She blurted out aloud the moment she entered through the front door of her home the door slamming shut behind her. “What the fuck?!” she repeated, bringing her hands to her forehead as she walking in a circle, the memory of what just happened replaying over and over. “Holy shit! I mean... holy shit!” she exclaimed. “I can’t believe that just happened! Oh my god!” Running up the stairwell and turning right as she went to her bedroom, she dove for her comfy bed, and grabbed her iPhone from where it’d been tucked away in her bag. A second later, the speaker was on, and a ringing emanated for just a second until someone answered.

“Hey Grace, what’s up?” it was Kevin.

“Oh my God, you have to hear what just happened! You know that apartment building down the street, where those migrants are living now?” she took a deep breath, her heart still fluttering inside of her chest as she could still see the image of Hasan’s dick.

“Yeah?” answered Kevin.

“Well... I like, umm... went over there, to say hello. To, y’know, like welcome them to the neighborhood, and to just be kind, right?” Taking a deep breath, Grace crawled around on her bed as she went to look out her bedroom window in the direction of the building. “...like, I baked some cookies...”

“You baked cookies? You dork!” interrupted Kevin.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know... but, it just, I don’t know, seemed like the nice thing to do.” Exhaling rapidly as she plopped onto her back on her bed, the phone in her hands, she resumed. “Well, I met the guy who was staring at us... or, I mean... at me, yesterday... his name is Hasan. He’s really nice, and what not... but, he offered to give me a little look around the building, since I was kind of asking about it. Well, anyway... so he leads me inside, takes me up to his floor, and then inside of his apartment...”

“You went inside his apartment?! Are you crazy?!” blurted Kevin.

“Relax... I mean, he didn’t **** me or anything... he’s a nice guy, he just wanted to show me around, y’know. But... anyway, so I’m inside his place, having a look around... and a minute goes by, and he comes in from his bedroom, totally naked!” Grinning in amusement as she recalled all the details, there was a deliberate pause in both her, and Kevin’s talking. “...and I mean, like naked, naked. Like... I saw it all, sausage, and potatoes if you catch my meaning.” Grace brought a hand to her forehead, a blush once more spreading across her pale features as she laid there in her bed.

“You’re not serious!” Kevin soon stated.

“I am. Like... totally.” Grace re-iterated.

“Holy crap! That’s... like, crazy! Did he act weird or anything?” Kevin asked.

“No. He just... was naked and asked me if I wanted something to drink. I just panicked, refused politely, and got out of there!” Grace sat up, her manic state causing her to fidget constantly.

“Oh wow! That’s unreal! I mean...” Kevin paused a moment. “...maybe that’s like, normal for people where he’s from?” he poised.

“Eritrea. He’s from Eritrea.” She explained. “He said he was just... getting comfortable in his home.”

“Wow... that’s some kind of comfortable.” Kevin said.

“Yeah.” She replied.

After another bout of silence on the phone, there came a giggle from Kevin before he spoke. “So... was he hot? I mean, like... he seemed hot from what I saw yesterday, but was what’s underneath the clothing just as nice?”

“Oh jeez! You perv!” Grace said, herself starting to giggle too.

“What?! It’s a normal question ask! Besides, I know you like guys like I do!” He poked at her on the phone, his giggling matching hers now. “I bet a big guy like that; his dick must’ve been like the size of my forearm! Can you imagine what that must feel like?”

“Oh will you stop! I’m not listening to this!” Grace fired back, her giggle turning into full on laughter.

“What! You can’t tell me you’re not thinking about it right now! In fact... describe it to me! Was it thick? Was it veiny? Was he circumcised?” Grace had experienced this side of Kevin before, whenever he'd spent the night over her home, or vice versa, and they got to talking about guys at school that they found attractive, or which actors they liked. She knew well how far he could push such a conversation, and at the moment, she really didn’t want to spend the next hour explaining all the sordid details of what she’d seen.

“Alright, I’m hanging up before this goes to far. Goodnight, Kevin!”

“Don’t you hang-up on me! Don’t you dare do it! I swear I will--”

Shaking her head, Grace hung-up on Kevin, and set the phone down on the bed next to her, giggling as she could imagine him furiously trying to call her back, or typing away an angry message about how he wanted to know more. In fact, a second later the phone began to vibrate, and Grace knew to ignore it until it stopped.

Laid on her bed, she took a deep breath as her fluttering nerves calmed, and she stared up at the ceiling above her. “I can’t believe that happened.” She said aloud, biting her lower lip as she couldn’t erase the image of Hasan from her thoughts.

“God... he was so hot.” She said simply.

The Migrant
Part Two

‘Hey kiddo! Hope you had a great day! I’m in DC! I’ll text you again at the end of the night! Love!’ the text from her father was the only one she’d received over night, aside from the dozen or so sent her by Kevin, who wanted answers about the incident.

Descending the stairway of her home, Grace yawned deeply, the morning having come rather quickly, and sleep having been difficult to attain the night prior. Her mind had been a flurry of activity, and every time she felt close to actually drifting off, the memory of her incident with Hasan would rush back to the forefront of her thoughts and she be wide away with excitement. Eventually, she did finally fall asleep, and though she couldn’t quite recall her dreams, when she’d awaken, she felt certain they had featured him rather prominently, as an overriding arousal lingered with her as she emerged from bed and went about showering and what not this morning.

“I still can’t believe that happened.” She said to herself.

About to enter the kitchen, she stopped the moment a knock came at the front door. Turning back, Grace sauntered casually toward the door, assuming that it was Kevin, come to bother her in person for more details. Snatching the doorknob, she flung the door open. “I’m not telling you anymore about what happened yesterday, Kevin! Let it go!” However, as she attuned her gaze at the figure standing in the doorway, it dawned on her that it wasn’t Kevin, but rather Hasan standing there. “Oh... oh, shoot, I’m sorry I umm... I thought you were someone else.” Nervously she clasped both of her hands together in front of her, affording the handsome man a reassuring smile.

“Umm... Hi!” she greeted him.

“Hello, Grace. I am sorry to bother you this morning, but I felt as though I should apologize to you for having made you so... uncomfortable... in my apartment yesterday. I did not realize that such displays of nudity are uncommon among your people.” Again, the accent of his voice was thick, and Grace found herself nearly intoxicated by it and the deep baritone.

“Oh... oh, it’s... umm, it’s fine! Really! I just... I umm, I just had to get going anyway!” she searched for an excuse that would let him off the hook.

“I am... pleased to hear this. Still, I would feel better if you allowed me to apologize in a proper manner.” Hasan motioned to her with a wave of a hand, as though to ask if he might enter.

Blinking a moment, Grace realized what he was asking for a second late. “Oh... oh of course, come in, please!” She stood aside, and once he’d stepped in, she closed the door behind. “I was... just about to have some breakfast, if you’d like to join me?” she alluded to the kitchen for him to follow.

“Of course. Thank you.” He followed after her, his eyes trailing over her as he appraised her attire, another simple pair of form-fitting gray athletic pants, and a white tank-top t-shirt which he felt confident she wore without any sort of undergarment.

“Umm... I was going to just have some oatmeal and some berries, but... if you’d like, I can cook us up some eggs?” Stopping before the fridge, she peered back over her shoulder to the tall black man and noticed the manner in which he’d been sizing her up. It made her feel incredibly vulnerable to be in his presence, and to have seen just how physically impressive he was. There was a voice in the back of her mind, screaming at her to be more careful, and to stop entertaining this scenario, but she was determined to ignore it. After all, Hasan had proven himself a kind man the day before, just as he had proven himself kind by coming to apologize for the misunderstanding. No, Grace knew she could trust him well enough, and that she needn’t be on her guard.

“That would be most kind of you, thank you.” He answered, settling into one of the barstool situated at the high-top counter attached to the center island.

“You’re very welcome!” Grace answered, retrieving the carton of eggs and the pitcher of orange juice from the fridge. Without asking, she produced a pair of tall glasses and poured the OJ into them, setting one on the counter before him. “Umm... scrambled eggs, okay?” she poised.

“Yes. That would be fine.” He answered, smiling broadly as he accepted the glass of juice.

“Cool! I umm... I’m still getting my technique straight when it comes to over-easy, or sunny-side up. I’ll get there eventually, but for now, scrambled is a safer bet.” She teased, setting the carton on the counter next to the stove, along with the butter dish.

“I’m surprised. Your cookies were quite delicious. I just assumed you were so masterful cooking with whatever you so desire.” He countered, sipping the juice, his eyes still trailing over her features.

“Oh... oh, thank you! I’m glad you enjoyed them!” She said, once more beaming with glee. “They were my mother’s recipe.” With a knife she dropped a dollop of butter from the dish into a skillet and began to swirl it around so that it melted, lubricating the pan. “I dunno, I guess I just got stuck in a silly mindset that when a neighbor moves in, you welcome them with some kind of a baked good.” She explained, reaching for one egg from the carton.

“It was a beautiful gesture from a beautiful girl.” Said Hasan.

Blushing a little, Grace looked back over her shoulder to the man, and smiled sweetly. “Well, I’m happy you thought so.” Cracking the egg with the knife in her hand, she deposited it into the pan, then added four more to the mix before reaching for a spatula and scrambling them. “Umm... would you like some toast with your eggs?” she asked, half turning back to him.

“Yes. That would be perfect. Thank you.” He answered.

With a nod, Grace went over to the bread-basket and retrieved a trio of slices of rye, then pressed them down into the toaster to brown while she finished the eggs. “Your apartment was quite lovely, I have to say.” She said as she went back to the stove. “The people who built and furnished them seem to have done a wonderful job.”

“For the most part, yes.” He countered.

“Oh?” She turned once more. “Is there something the matter?”

“The man who... erm... custodian, told us that the showers would be non-functional for the rest of the week. A problem with... plumbing?” he shrugged his shoulders, then leant back in in his stool. “It is a minor issue I suppose.”

“Oh... that’s frustrating.” Grace said, reaching to the back of the stove to turn off the heating element. “Especially in this heat.” Striding over to a cabinet, she retrieved a pair of plates and set them down on the counter, just as the toaster popped. Quickly, she snatched the three piece of rye, one for herself, and two for him, and placed them on the two plates accordingly. “Well... I mean, it’d be okay with me, I mean... if like, in the meantime... you wanted to stop by and use the shower in my bathroom?” Biting her lower-lip, Grace would’ve been lying had she tried to pretend that she didn’t have even a passing interest in the stunning man, and that deep down, she was hoping to maybe sneak another peak of him sans clothing at least one more time. In the moment, this seemed like the perfect opportunity to not only be a good neighbor, but to potentially fulfill that want.

“That is very kind of you, I would like that.” He accepted her offer.

“Awesome!” She replied happily.

Turning back to the stove, she retrieved the spatula to give the eggs another stir in the slowly cooling but still hot pan. “I hope you enjoy these--” alerted by a shadow cast from her left, Grace nearly jumped as she saw Hasan standing just a short distance from him. He glared at her, the expression on his face one of utter confidence, as his hands came together in front of his waist, thumbs slipping in and under the waistband of his jeans, beginning to tug them downward. “Hasan?” she asked in a mixture of surprise and anticipation. She looked into his face, then let her gaze trail down to the front of his groin as without warning he pushed his jeans down until gravity took over, and they slipped down to settle around his ankles.

Her mouth dropping open, Grace locked eyes on the massive dick as it hung freely before her once more, and the feeling of anxious arousal took hold. “I... umm...” She didn’t know what to say, or do, instead just frozen in place as Hasan’s hands found the hem of his shirt, and pulled I up over his head, revealing his athletically toned Adonis like torso to her.

“Come to me, Grace.” Commanded Hasan, as he held out a hand to welcome her.

Swallowing hard, as her eyes darted back and forth between his impressive cock, to his extended hand, and then the supremely confident expression in his face, Grace took one tenuous step closer to him. Inside of her chest, her heart was fluttering with nervousness again, but she didn’t halt in her advances, rather she took another step closer. “I umm...” she repeated, her hands fiddling at her sides before she reached one out, to accept that which he offered.

“You are a beautiful girl.” Commented Hasan as he beckoned her closer. “Very kind as well. I wish to thank you for your kindness.” With his free hand, Hasan found the underside of her chin, and tilted the pate of her head back until she was staring up into his face. “Please... allow me to thank you.” He said simply as he leant down, closing the last bit of distance separating them, and pressed his full lips against her deliciously pouty ones, content to see that her eyelids had wandered closed as soon as they’d engaged in a tender kiss. Pulling back a second later, he looked to gauge her reaction, and saw the need in her as those eyelids opened, and a look of desperation became evident. “Thank you.” He said as he pressed back in, kissing her a second time, this time more aggressively as he forced her lips open and pushed a tongue possessively in past them.

Grace was frozen in place, panicked over what was happening again, but she didn’t resist, rather she allowed him to kiss her. She’d wanted this. Needed it. Grace had kissed boys before, not many, to be honest, but she had. She’d even kissed Kevin once, years back before she knew he was gay. But, as Hasan took such a passionate command of her, his lips parting hers, and a tongue soon finding her own as they made out, she realized this was so very new to her. Reaching out, she pressed a hand against his abdomen, feeling how hard the toned muscles underneath were, and leaning into him for support as he possessively took a hold of her for the moment. His tongue and hers, nestled together inside of her mouth, she felt her nerves being overtaken by arousal, and soon instinct was guiding her, a want to suck at his tongue filling her mind, and so she did.

Grinning into their kiss, Hasan recognized the eagerness of Grace, and fed her more of his tongue, a hand finding her waist as he drew her in closer. For her part, Grace was melting into his every touch, and so she came even closer, the heat of his body radiating against hers, and the heft of his massive, gradually hardening dick pressing against the flat of her belly.

“You are a virgin, yes?” he suddenly asked after breaking their kiss and pulling back a bit.

Swallowing hard, Grace simply nodded in nervous affirmation. There was an embarrassment about that fact that she felt, and for a moment she was worried that she’d disappointed him. That he might call an end to this, before it went any further, and that was the last thing she wanted. So, before he might do so, Grace hastily grabbed for the hem of her tank top, and clumsily began to pull it up over her head, baring herself to him from the waist up, her young perky breasts adorned with pert pink nipples standing hard out of excitement. From there, she leant forward and pressed her lips against his chest, kissing against his left pectoral longingly.

“You’re... you’re so sexy.” She commented, her nervous hands starting to explore his body more fully, as one traced down his abdominal muscles, and the other against his waist, from the side of his hip forward until she pressed the flat of her palm against the base of his thick cock.

“You want this, white girl?” Hasan asked.

Blinking out of curiosity regarding the mention of her skin-color, Grace breathed with a harsh rasp against his chest as she planted further kisses against his body. “I.... I want this.” She said simply, feeling her knees buckle beneath her as she began to settle down before him.

“You want my black cock?” Hasan pressed.

Descending, Grace felt her knee meet the cold tile of the kitchen floor, then the other as she came to a kneel before him, her eyes face to face with his nearly erect, throbbing cock. It pointed at her menacingly, and she stared up past it to Hasan’s handsome face. “I... I want it.” She said.

“Say it. Say you want my big black cock, white girl.” Hasan ordered.

“I...” she hesitated, swallowing hard. “I want your... your big black cock.” She acceded to his demand, hopeful that she was meeting his wants and needs with her action. In her mind, the entirety of this scenario was running through her memory. Just a few minutes ago, she was making him breakfast, now she was down on her knees, in from of his dick, telling him how she wanted it. How had she gotten here, she wondered. What had clouded her mind? Why was she acting like this? This was so out of the ordinary for her. She’d never imagined that something like this might’ve happened to her, yet here she was. Worse still, she felt no regrets or apprehensions about it. She wanted this. Nay, she needed this, and she was going to have it.

“I... I need your big black cock!” She proclaimed, leaning forward, and pressing the flat of her tongue against the underside of his hefty piece of meat, running up its length until she licked through his slit. “I need it!” she reiterated aggressively, glaring up at him pass his shaft.

“Good white girl.” He said simply. “Suck my dick.”

Eager to please and obey his command, Grace parted her lips wide and found the head of his thick cock, forcing it into the back of her mouth as she began to draw succulently upon it. Soon the sounds of her sucking began to fill the kitchen as she bobbed back and forth slowly, barely able to fit half of his immensity inside. He tasted exotic. Strong. There was a musk that infiltrated her nostrils, and further intoxicated her brain. She was nearing a frenzy of sexuality that she’d never before been through, and her young body was quivering with accelerated carnal desire for him. Between her thighs, the gray fabric of her skin-tight athletic pants had already turned darker with dampness as her sex grew moist with need.

“I knew you would be mine, the moment I laid eyes on you.” Hasan explained.

Moaning against his dick in her mouth, Grace imagined what he meant by her being his, and felt absolutely consumed by anticipation and excitement. Those moans of course sent vibrations down through his incredible cock, and in turn caused Hasan to throwback his head and similarly moan.

“Your mouth is lovely. Those pert lips meant to suck my black cock.” Hasan alluded.

Bobbing her head back and forth in impersonation of all the women she’d seen do it in porn, Grace was thankful for all the time she and Kevin had explored the internet late at night, viewing various scenes that they were curious about. She knew he’d likely lose his head if she told him all the sordid details about this one, but also knew she couldn’t deny him such a juicy story.

Grunting as he enjoyed the attention, she was showing his dick, Hasan soon lent a hand down to stop Grace from sucking any further, effectively pulling her off of him. Her greenish-blue eyes cast a gaze back up to her past his dark-skinned cock, the contrast of it against her pale face, and drove him near wild with his own carnal need. “Stand up.” He ordered her, and without asking she rose from where she had been knelt before him. “Lead me to your bedroom.” He instructed, and after swallowing audibly, Grace took a hold of his hand, and beckoned him to follow. Stopping only for a moment to pull up his jeans, he fell in behind her, and soon the two of them made it to the top of the stairs, and turned right, headed into her bedroom.

Once inside, Hasan looked about, grinning as he appraised all the pink, typically girly things that adorned her bedroom. She was just like all the white girls he’d seen on TV while living in Eritrea, and now he’d come to America an infiltrated her home, and her bedroom.

“Take off the rest of your clothes, white girl.” He ordered.

Grace breathed nervously as she stood before him, her nude torso exposed, but her tight-fitting gray pants still hiding the rest of her. But, as she was given her next command, she felt compelled to follow it, and slowly slipped her hands into her waistband and began pushing the pants down. Revealing her youthful, clean-shaven slit to him, it neatly nestled between her perfect thighs, Grace pushed the pants down the rest of the length of her long legs, and then stepped out of them. Shaking visibly due to excitement, anticipation, and nervousness, she stepped closer to Hasan and reached out to press a hand against his abdomen again.

“Good white girl.” He said, stepping out of his own pants, now entirely nude as well.

“What... what now?” she asked.

Grinning broadly, Hasan answered her by reaching down with both of his strong hands to heft up Grace by both of her thighs, launching her backward unto her bed, and parting her legs for him. Next, he stepped forward, his eyes finding hers as she was stunned. “Beg me to fuck you, white girl!” he ordered her, the fullness of his erect cock perched tenuously close to her now quivering virgin pussy, aching to be plundered.

Swallowing again, Grace looked down past the mounds of her modest breasts, over her taut flat tummy, and in between parted thighs as her neatly shaven slit. Yesterday, she’d known innately that her life would be forever changed this summer and knew not why. Yet, as she laid here now, it dawned on her just how prescient her intuition had been; she would never be the same girl again, and as wary of that as she was, she was far more excited about it. “Yes... please! Please! I beg you! Fuck me!” she suddenly exclaimed, her breathing short and shallow.

Without any further delay, Hasan pressed the tip of his cock against her virgin pussy, the thickness of it stretching her immediately, and he could see the shock and awe of both pleasure and pain evident in her expression as he pushed onward. “You will take it all!” he instructed, planting his hands firmly against either side of her waist in order to hold her in place, all while he slowly pressed more of his incredible length inside, just three or so inches so far until he felt the resistance of her hymen. With a grin, he leant down and planted his lips against hers once more, engaging her in a passionate and dominating kiss, then resumed the pressure of his cock until the resistance gave way.

With a subdued whimper, Grace’s eyes went wide as she felt a pang of pain within, as though something had given way. Desperate for support, she hooked and wrapped her arms up and around his biceps so as to hang onto.

“All of it.” Hasan exclaimed as he broke their kiss, pushing on.

Moaning deeply, Grace clung unto the strong black man as he further plundered her depths, stretching her to the limit. She shuddered visibly, wondering just how much of his near fourteen-inch cock he was determined to insert into her, despite his assertion that she would take it all. As far as she knew, it was an impossibility to have such an object inside a vagina. A theory Hasan was determined to put to the test, as she could feel him going further; whimpering loudly, the intensity of pleasure that radiated out from him pushing inside was too much to take, and she swore that even the slightest movement would send her over the edge.

“I... I... I can’t!” she protested.

“You can. You will!” He insisted.

“Ahhhhhgn!” Grace cried out, clinging unto Hasan as she felt herself overcome, and the cascading wave of a climax spread from deep within, all throughout her body, even to the tips of her toes and fingers. “Ahhhhhh! God! Ahhh! Fuck me!” She cried, unknowing, and honestly uncaring what sort of damage Hasan might do to her in forcing the whole of his dick inside.

“White girl!” growled Hasan, as he suddenly thrust hard forward, the last three-inches of his immense cock finding a home inside her, while his pendulous testicles slapped against her ass. Indeed, Hasan knew that his dick reached the absolute totality of her small body, and in fact beyond, having stretched her to her limit. “You’re mine, white girl! Say it!” He commanded as he pulled back slightly, just a few inches.

“Ahhh!” Grace shuddered again, as the sensation of his dick pulling back intensified the sensation of her ongoing orgasm. “Yes! I... I’m yours!” She exclaimed.

“Good!” Hasan grunted, shoving back in, grinning as she whimpered once more. “You belong to me!” He said.

“I... I... I belong to you!” She repeated, struggling to think as he began thrusting into and out of her in rhythm. The sound of her soft flesh slapping against him as he fucked her filling her bedroom and echoing down the hallway beyond the open door. “Ahh, yes!” She cried out.

Grunting in an almost feral state, Hasan began to really let whatever tenuous inhibitions that had been holding him back up until this point go. He would fuck this white girl until she screamed, and then he would keep fucking her. She was his from now on, and he would ensure that she would never be fulfilled with another man. He would ruin her for anyone else, and in doing so, effectively make a wife out of this slutty white girl. His first, of what he knew would be many white girls he’d take as wives while living in America. She would please him, and fulfill his every need, and in fact, she would live to do so. This was a wonderful country, he realized as he continued to fuck Grace, and was so very glad to have made the decision to come here.

“Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!” Grace yelped helplessly with each powerful thrust, clinging unto Hasan for her life as he attempted to fuck it out of her. Her eyes were wide open, and she breathed hard and shallow as a seemingly endless parade of orgasms hit her one after another. Turning Grace over a few minutes later, that she might lay on her chest while her ass was presented to Hasan, he took some time fucking the young girl from behind, his aggression pushing her face into a pillow as he went on, and on. Sometime during the intensely brutal fucking, Grace had cum so hard she sprayed right against Hasan’s hefty balls, soaking the bedding beneath them, but Hasan wouldn’t let up.

This went on for nearly a half-hour, with Grace utterly and completely at Hasan’s every whim, unable and unwilling to try and stop him. She’d lost count of how many consecutive orgasms she’d experienced and felt as though she’d just run twenty-miles by the time he seemed to slow.

“Get ready, white girl!” explained Hasan as his thrusts grew slower, but more powerful.

“I... I’m ready!” Grace exclaimed.

“Are you on birth-control?” he asked.

“Y...yes...” she said softly in between whimpers.

“Pity.” He replied.

Grunting animalistically again, Hasan flipped Grace that she might lay on her side, one hand holding her left leg extended, while the other found her throat and began constricting it. “Soon, you will not be.” He explained simply, his thrusting finding the furthest depths of her young, tight, yet now stretched cunt. He might not breed her now, but in time, he would, he decided. “White slut!” he grunted as he tightened the grip around her throat, and with one powerful thrust, the tip of his huge cock slamming against her cervix, he released the first thick load of potent virile seed into young Grace’s formerly-virgin pussy. Groaning loudly, Hasan heard the girl beneath him whimper mutedly against his hand wrapped around her delicate neck and saw how she squirmed with another intense orgasm.

Pump, after pump, after pump, he felt the warmth of his huge load backflowing as he filled her up with cum. When he felt the last dribbles escape, he released his hand from her neck, and allowed her to gasp deeply in shock. Their bodies glistening with sweat, Hasan leant over top his white girl, and stared down into her exhausted face while his cock remained buried up to the hilt inside. A moment passed, and when a tender smile returned to Grace, Hasan kissed her softly, content to lay beside her on her bed. Grace moaned softly as the incredible man laid beside her, his incredible tool still inside her brutalized pussy, and the sensation of radiant warmth in her belly thanks to his hot seed having filled her up lingering.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

The Migrant
Part Three

Continued >>>HERE<<<​