Evil Under The Sun

By Chrissy

"Hey! This is some fucking kitchen," Luis laughed, looking around. "I've never seen a fridge with THREE fucking doors. Jesus Christ!"

He swaggered about the kitchen swinging open cupboards and doors, commenting on everything. "Fuck! This kitchen is as big as a whole house!"

Makala fussed making coffee. He was making her nervous. She wished he would sit down, he was unsettling her moving about all the time. She had expected them to sit at the large pine table and talk and maybe kiss a bit. But instead he strode about talking loudly, every other word a curse. These hallowed halls had never heard such language. With sinking heart she remembered that the precious family silver was stored in the large cherry wood display case at the rear of the kitchen. When he finally saw it he yelped aloud. "Shit! Is this all real silver? It's got to be worth a fucking fortune!"

"Come and sit down, the coffee's ready," Makala said anxiously. She felt tense with him roaming about the kitchen. Why didn't he just sit down?

He smoked so much and he was lighting yet another cigarette, its blue haze filling the kitchen. "Mother doesn't allow smoking in the house," she said, trying not to sound too prudish.

He grinned. He came up behind her wrapping his arms around her body, pulling her into him. She was powerfully aware that her buttocks pressed against the hard bulk of his genitals. "Mother's in Marbella. Mother's never going to find out," he whispered, his hot breath on her ear. He spun her around to face him. "Is she?" He leaned forward and kissed her again. This time the kiss was longer and his tongued moved against hers. She couldn't help herself. Closing her eyes she swayed against his lean body, enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in his strong arms.

His hand went up inside her sweater and he cupped a breast. A loud gasp fell from her lips.

"Easy, baby, easy," he smiled, his beautiful amber eyes on hers. "Don't get too excited."

Makala flushed stupidly and pulled away. He always managed to make her feel silly and awkward. "Listen, the coffee's ready," she smiled, tugging down her sweater. Suddenly she wanted him to drink his coffee and leave. This was not what she had expected at all and his closeness had an uneasy effect on her. She just wanted him out of the house.

However, with his coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other he strolled to the wide doorway leading to the central hallway of the house. "Aren't you going to give me the grand tour?" he asked turning back to her.

She shook her head. "I'm not allowed to have visitors," she blabbered. "You have to go now, Luis."

"I don't HAVE to do anything," he returned lazily. She realized her nervousness might be amusing him.

To her horror he strode across the main hallway and into the formal dining room with its elegant cherry wood table that could sit forty people. Makala scampered after him.

"We're not supposed to be in here," she hissed anxiously. "Let's go back to the kitchen."

But he wasn't listening. He meandered about the large room and to her absolute dismay he drew hard on his cigarette and carelessly flicked a chunk of burning ash onto the expensive Oriental rug. She rushed over and ground it into the fibres with her shoe.

"Please be careful, Luis," she said worriedly. But he only laughed at her.

"I AM being careful," he returned, obviously enjoying her distress. "Look!" And to her utmost horror he crushed out his cigarette on the wall. Makala watched open mouthed as the expensive raw silk wallpaper that her mother had specially imported from India sizzled and scorched before her eyes. The cigarette had burned a hole down to the plaster. The damage to the wall covering was extensive.

She stared, aghast. "You did that on purpose! Look what you've done!"

But he was unconcerned. He was leaving the dining room and heading towards the closed door that led to her father's study. "What's in here?"

"No, wait. Luis. You can't go in there!" she cried.

But he only laughed. "Listen, sweetheart, I go anywhere I want."

At that moment the phone rang causing Makala's shredded nerves to bounce. She guessed it must be her parents phoning and rushed toward the hallway table to snatch the phone. But Luis beat her to it. He grabbed the phone unit and yanked it from the wall with such force that the cord snapped and pieces of the wood paneling splintered and broke off.

"Why did you do that?" Makala cried. She was truly scared now. Things were out of control.

But he was entering her father's study, a sedate mahogany wood paneled office that Makala had never dared set foot in. She stepped across the doorway. The room was cool and dark and smelled of heavily polished wood. Luis strode about, pointedly ignoring her anxious jabbering words as she followed him wringing her hands anxiously. "Please, Luis. Please go. I won't tell anyone about this. Honest I won't."

But he wasn't listening. He moved about the room picking up papers on the surface of the mahogany desk and strewing them carelessly about the floor. Then suddenly his eyes spied something.

"Hey! Booze!" he laughed. "I found the family booze supply." He was looking through the beveled glass of a built in wall unit. He pulled angrily at the doors. "Fuck! The fucking door's locked." He turned to her, "Where's the key?"

Makala shook her head stupidly. Both her mother and father were strict teetotalers. Alcohol was never ever served in the house. What was Luis talking about? There was no booze. There couldn't be.

Her brain in a whirl she watched in horror as he took up a heavy marble statuette from her father's desk and smashed it into the glass of the locked wall cabinet. He yanked bits of jagged glass from the opening and reached in and pulled out a large bottle of whiskey.

"Bullseye!!! Jack Daniel's" he grinned, "Your father has good taste."

With a quick twist he pulled off the cap and threw his head back taking a long swig of the amber liquid from the mouth of the bottle. She watched as it sloshed over his lips and ran down his chin to spill to the floor. With a hoarse laugh he wiped his lips with the back of his hand. Then he took another long drink from the bottle, not caring how the excess liquid spilled from his lips.

Makala almost jumped from her skin as the phone on the father's desk rang, its bark shrill and echoing in the room.

Luis slammed down the heavy Jack Daniels bottle and once again he ripped the phone cord from the wall plug with an angry curse.

Then he turned to her, "Hey - where's my manners?" he grinned, his lips glistening and wet. "Come here, honey, and have a drink with me."

"No, no," she shrank back, wondering if she should make a run for it.

"Hey, I don't like to drink alone. Don't make me drink alone." His voice was coldly insistent. He moved close to her and held out the bottle. "Drink," he ordered.

Her whole body began to shake. She was truly frightened now. But she took the heavy glass bottle from him and put it to her lips. To appease him she delicately swallowed a few drops.

But he shoved the bottle into her mouth causing the glass rim to clank hard against her teeth. The suddenness made her mouth open and she choked and gasped as the strong liquid filled her mouth and was gulped painfully down. She dared not let it spill to the carpet and took every drop into her surprised gullet.

"Hey, save some for me, baby." Luis snatched the bottle back from her. He was heading toward the door and looking up the wide staircase carved from imported English Ash. "What's upstairs?" he asked. A chill went along Makala's spine.

Suddenly the phone peeled again. "How many fucking phones do you have in this house?" Luis cried racing up the stairs three at a time. He ran along the second floor hallway and entered a bedroom to his left. Makala heard the loud snap as yet another phone cord was yanked from its socket. She ran up the stairs after him, the effects of the whiskey beginning to slow her limbs and dizzy her brain. He was in her father's bedroom.

"Wow, who sleeps here?" Luis continued to swill back the whiskey, the bottle was already a quarter empty and she noticed he staggered for a few seconds, almost falling onto the large four poster bed. It occurred to Makala that he would surely pass out soon. He had consumed a large amount of liquor in a very short period of time. Hoping against hope she prayed he would drink himself into unconsciousness and pass out cold.

"This is papa's bedroom," she said in a small voice.

"PAPA's bedroom?" he sneered back loudly. "Where the fuck is MAMA's bedroom then?"

"Across the hall," she replied.

He threw back his head and laughed. "Well, my parents might have drank themselves senseless every night, but at least they slept in the same bedroom. Used to fuck like crazy too. They couldn't get enough of each other."

As he spoke he left her father's bedroom and crossed the hall, bursting open the door and swaggering into the ultra feminine pink and lilac bedroom that belonged to her mother. Laughing loudly he fell onto the bed, the amber whiskey spilling from the uncapped bottle. He patted the frilly embroidered bedspread next to him.

"Come and join me on mama's bed, Makala, honey."

"Luis, please go. I won't tell anyone what you've done," she watched as the whiskey stain spread and seeped into the expensive coverlet imported from Sweden.

"What I've done? I've fucking done NOTHING!! Hey, listen, I'm behaving myself. You don't want to see me when I'm NOT behaving cuz it ain't pretty. Right now I'm being the perfect house guest. Now you be the perfect hostess and fucking get over here."

With a cry of fear Makala spun on her heel and was about to run from the room but he was up to his feet in a flash and he caught her around the waist.

Clutching her wrist in an iron grip, he dragged her back into the room and flung her down onto the bed where she bounced up and down, the springs squeaking and complaining. Heart hammering in her chest, she stared up at him as he pulled hard again on the bottle. How could he drink so much and still be standing?

"You're not going anywhere?" he said, his eyes blazing. "We are going to have some fun. Right here on mama's bed. Probably the only action this room's ever seen."

Crushing his cigarette out on the surface of the bleached oak night table, he removed his leather jacket and flung it carelessly to the floor. Then he pulled his T-shirt over his head.

Despite herself. Despite her terrible predicament, as she lay there shivering and terrified, Makala's glance roved hungrily over his torso a growing admiration in her eyes.

Her breath caught in her throat. He was a cruel brute, but he was absolutely gorgeous. His body was magnificent - with a splendid breadth through chest and shoulders, sleek, narrow hips, and handsome muscular legs. His flesh was hard-surfaced, the skin of his torso browned by exposure. Every movement he made had the easy gracefulness of an animal, seemingly unhurried, yet lithe and quick. His fingers pulled at the snap of his jeans and he unzipped himself, tugging off the jeans and underwear in one swift pull.

"Look at me. I'm fucking hard as a bone," he laughed hoarsely. "Look what you've done to me, beautiful baby." Beautiful? She smiled inwardly as vanity pushed through fear

Her eyes settled on his huge cock and would not move away. He was enormous.

"Suck me," he breathed. Makala shrank back on the bed.

He leaned over her and roughly pulled her up into a sitting posting. "I said suck me!"

He grasped the back of her head, forcing her face into his genitals. Her mouth opened and his penis filled her, its tip pushing against the back of her throat. The action caused him to cry out loud. With loud grunts he began shoving himself in and out of her mouth.

After a few disoriented moments Makala soon realized that she liked it. She liked him in her mouth. In fact, she liked it a lot. It made her feel good inside. It made her squirm in pleasure. Without thinking, the muscle of her tongue clung to his shaft as it slid so swiftly in and out. She wasn't resisting at all. In fact, she was cooperating. She could not get enough of the feeling of him in her mouth.

She was aware of his moans increasing and suddenly he pulled himself out and his heavy weight pushed her back onto the bed. "Get naked, honey" he ordered huskily. "Get naked right now because I'm not going to last much longer."

Her breath quickened. With shaking hands she pulled the red sweater over her head and tore her bra from her breasts. The need to feel his smooth bare skin against hers was all consuming. Her jeans were ripped down her legs by her own eager fingers and she tossed them away across the room. She wanted him. She wanted his huge cock deep inside her. She didn't care about anything except the need to be taken. For him inside filling her up. She lay back stripped of clothes, her eyes wild with desire, her skin flushed and burning.

He came down on her, his lips found hers in a long tongue kiss. Her arms went around his neck as his weight settled atop hers. She pulled him tight against her, she arched up toward him as his lips slid down to her hard nipples. She was aware of his hands fumbling between her legs and she realized he was pushing himself into her. For one hard second she felt a stab of pain then overwhelming ecstasy as he slid within her. She widened her legs and found that they naturally wrapped themselves around his thrusting ass.

"Oh, honey, you're nice and wet but you're as tight as a virgin," he whispered huskily, his breath hot against her cheek. She moved her head so that they might kiss again and she could feel his tongue play with hers.

She was half mad with passion. The pleasure was hot and hard. It drove any lucid thought from her boiling mind. All there was in the world was Luis pumping into her like a wild man, his groans coming harsh and loud, her own cries matching his. No one had ever told her sex was so good. So fucking good. The nuns were crazy. They were denying themselves so much. They could have all this and heaven too.

A strange feeling began to build inside her. It made her sweat. It made her blood pump. She fought it for a few seconds because it was scary and she thought she was losing control, but then she was sucked into the whirling feeling. It was so wonderful. So deep and honey liquid. The intense sensation began in her groin and spread its fire along her loins. Her thighs were heavy and languid, but her hips thrust eagerly upward of their own accord. Jerking hungrily she wanted all of him inside. She wanted to feel him so hard and big and all inside. Her body pumped with his. She couldn't stop herself if she tried. She was on a roller coaster and she never wanted to get off.

Suddenly Luis yanked up and bellowed out loud, his body wrenched and lurched, he pumped like a wild animal. She opened her eyes and saw the cords in his neck straining. His whole body seemed tensed to explode. And explode it did. With a howl of sheer joy he came inside her, convulsing in the throes of a strong orgasm.

The building passion inside Makala reached its own crescendo. With a cry she arched up against him, the climax washing over her sending ripples of complete pleasure down her spine.

They clung to each other, their bodies steaming and sweating from their savage coupling. "You are a piece of work, Makala," Luis whispered as he pulled her close along the length of his body. "You're a wild woman." He chuckled to himself. "A fucking wild woman." He looked down at her as he held her so close and he kissed the tip of her nose. "I like you a lot. You're my kind of girl."

Makala lay warm and drowsy, marvellously content and glad with every fibre of her being that it had happened. It seemed that until this moment she had been only half alive.

Satisfied and warm she sunk her body into his. A sense of lightness pervaded her, as though her head had become detached and floated somewhere far above her.

They cuddled for a bit and then Luis moved from their embrace and he sat up resting his back against the headboard. Makala slid up the bed to lay next to him. She was aware that semen and fluids spilled from her body onto her mother's elegant pink and lilac bedspread. She was also very aware that Luis's naked body was totally perfect whereas hers was not. She tried to arrange her legs so that her thighs would not appear so heavy. Silently she begged him not to make a cruel comment about her figure.

But he was not even looking at her. He placed two cigarettes into his mouth and lit them. Then he handed one to her. She took it. She needed it. There wasn't much point in worrying about the tobacco smoke now after the damage that had already been done to the house. She even took a long swig of the Jack Daniel's he offered.

As they lay in companionable silence, a loud noise sounded downstairs. Luis jumped to his feet in an instant. "Someone's in the house!" he breathed.

The languid bubble was burst. Reality was back. Makala knew exactly who it was downstairs. It was Bella back from the visit with her family. Inexplicably she experienced a sudden sorrow. It was all coming to an end. Makala realized it was all over. She had an ally now. The police would be called and Luis would be taken away and she would have to listen to a lifetime of lectures from her father. He would be outraged that she had brought such a man as Luis into his home.

She realized that life would be much easier for her if Luis were to escape detection. If he got away then she could blame the damage on a burglar. A simple case of break and enter. No one would need to know anything.

As thoughts flashed in her head, Luis had jumped from the bed and was pulling on his jeans and T-shirt. Within seconds he was fully dressed in his clothes and leather jacket.

"Don't go downstairs. She'll see you." Makala whispered urgently. "Go over to papa's bedroom and climb down to the driveway from the balcony. Then you can get away."

But running away was not on Luis's mind. "Bella?" he frowned, remembering. "The family cook? Right?"

She stared. What was he thinking? Why was he speaking so loudly? Bella might hear him and be upstairs in an instant.

"Sex makes me hungry," he remarked with a sly grin. Then he left the room and she could hear him running down the stairs. With a cry of alarm she too jumped from the bed and pulled on her mother's pink satin robe.

"Luis, Luis, don't go downstairs," she called under her breath, but he was way ahead of her and he had arrived at the kitchen door.

She heard a loud scream as Bella discovered the strange man in her kitchen. "Who are you? Get out or I'll call the police." Bella's voice was shrill with sudden terror.

Makala came up behind Luis in time to hear him reply coolly, "Hello. I'm Makala's new boyfriend. My name is Luis. How are you, Bella?"

She saw the shock and disbelief in Bella's eyes as they slid from Luis to her. "Makala?" Bella asked, her voice quivering, "What is going on? Who is this man? What's been going on here? Everything's in a mess."

Luis turned to Makala as she stood behind him and he put an arm around her shoulder pulling her into his body in a close possessive grip. Then he turned back to Bella and smiled his lazy, mocking smile. "I just told you. Weren't you fucking listening? I'm her boyfriend. "

"You are no such thing!" Bella stormed, finding her courage. She took a few threatening steps toward Luis, "You get out right now!"

But Luis was not flustered, not in the least. He smiled his amused smile, pulling Makala in even closer and kissing her on the cheek. "Listen, Bella. Me and Makala have just fucked in mama's bed and we're hungry. Real hungry." He turned to Makala, his grip on her tightening, "You're hungry aren't you, baby?"

But Makala's voice would not come. Her eyes were bright with fear, her mouth quivered as she looked pleadingly into Bella's eyes.

Luis was still grinning, his voice smooth and mocking, "You've GOT to be hungry, baby. You were thrashing about like a wild animal just a few minutes ago." he turned back to Bella. "I think a sandwich would be nice. I saw some ham in that fridge that's the size of a fucking house. Slice it up and slap it in some bread for us, Bella, honey. Oh - and some fresh coffee would be nice. Wouldn't it, baby?" he turned back to Makala, kissing her again. "We've been into papa's supply of Jack Daniel's and I think Makala here needs some sobering up. Don't you, darling?"

As his bantering words were spoken, Makala watched Bella's face grow more blotched and mottled with anger. Her many chins trembled as she took a couple more faltering steps towards them. Bella was a large woman. She probably weighed twice that of slender Luis. But her weight was built from clumsy fat, causing her to waddle and lumber off balance. Still, to Makala's surprise, Bella suddenly sprang with the swift action of a much younger woman.

"You get out of here!" she cried yet again. Her voice shook shrilly. There was a flash of movement.

Makala screamed. Somehow Bella had managed to grab a knife and she rushed at Luis, a guttural animal cry emitting from her throat.

Everything happened so quickly, yet so slowly. It was difficult to put it all together in sequence. Makala was merely a bewildered witness.

Luis pulled a gun from an inside pocket of his leather jacket and without a moment's hesitation he casually aimed, his arm straight and at eye level, and fired. The gun retort echoed, bouncing from wall to wall. The bullet hit Bella square in the forehead, right between the eyes. The huge woman seemed to stop dead in her tracks and she fell backwards with a dull thud, the many fatty layers of her obese body vibrating as it hit solid ground.

Makala stared, her mouth hung, her heart pounded in her chest. She was imprisoned in her home with a monster and his gun.

Unconcerned, Luis was pulling open cupboards. "Where the fuck do you keep the bread in this house?"

Makala thought she might faint. Bile burned in her throat. Her head spun and sounds began to mute and fade away. Her body swayed and she caught the table and fell into a chair. Luis had found the bread and calmly kneeled to snatch the knife from Bella's dead grip.

"I make a mean sandwich!" he grinned as he turned back to a terrified Makala. "You wait and see."

He busied himself at the kitchen counter whistling happily, spreading mustard on the bread and slicing the ham thickly. He talked pleasantly as if everything were ordinary and a dead woman did not lay on the kitchen floor at his feet.

Then he sat at the table opposite her and he pushed a sandwich at her. "Eat up, baby. It's good."

Makala swallowed more acid vomit in the back of her throat. Fear had frozen every muscle. Her body was stiff, she could only stare blankly at him. She could not move. She could not speak. She certainly could not eat. She had seen him shoot the family cook and now he would kill her. She was a witness. He would kill her for sure. How could she get away? She must get away. Otherwise she would die.

Luis finished his sandwich and looked at her. "You're not eating, honey?" he drawled.

He pulled a fresh cigarette package from the carton on the kitchen table and casually lit a cigarette. He looked at her, "If you're not going to eat, baby, will you make us some coffee? I'm kinda thirsty."

But Makala was paralyzed in her seat. Not one section of her body would work. Luis drew hard on his cigarette, a deep scowl on his face his eyes cold and stern. "What's the matter with you? I made you a sandwich. Now make me some damn coffee!!"

Her voice was trapped in her throat, but she managed a few shaking words which came out high and unnaturally pitched. "Are you going to kill me?" she squeaked.

He blew out smoke. "Probably." He looked her right in the eye.

Makala sucked in a choking breath. "I won't tell anyone, honest I won't." she blubbered, suddenly finding frightened quick words. "I won't tell. Please don't kill me. Oh Luis, please don't kill me."

He pulled on his cigarette again, studying her with cold contempt. "Make me some good strong coffee, Makala, honey, and I'll think about letting you live."

She tried to stand up by her knees shook so much, she fell back down into the chair. Her whole body trembled violently.

Casually Luis reached behind and pulled the gun from his jeans. He pointed it at her. It clicked as he pulled back the safety catch.

"Make the fucking coffee! NOW!!!"

She rose to her feet again, every part of her shivering in fear. She felt she might die any second, however, his expression softened at her obvious distress. He leaned down and kissed her lips almost tenderly. His arms went around her.

"I like you Makala," he whispered against her cheek, his voice soft and sing-song as if he were talking to a child. "I think you are one sexy bitch of a woman. That was the best fuck I've had in a long while. So why don't you go upstairs to mama's room and grab that bottle of Jack Daniels and take a good strong swig to steady your nerves and then come back down here and make me some damn coffee."

He pointed the gun at her as she stood and staggered from the kitchen. He followed her to the foot of the stairs, the gun aimed at her back as she stumbled upwards.

"I'm going to count to five. You get that bottle and bring it back down here pronto."

Sobbing loudly and tears rolling down her cheeks, Makala did as she was bid. She was back down the stairs as he reached 'five'. He snatched the bottle from her grasp and held it up to his lips. Then he held the bottle out to her. "Drink. It will steady your nerves."

She took the now half empty bottle and lifted it to her lips. It burned her throat but it did give her the strength to stop shaking. Luis grabbed her wrist in a tight grip and was just about to shove her into the kitchen when they were both startled by the sound of the doorbell chimes.

Breath caught in Makala's throat. She knew it wasn't her parents. They, of course, had keys. But she was almost certain it must be the police. Maybe Bella had phoned them when she first arrived at the house and noticed the vandalism.

Makala's frightened eyes turned towards the front door. The leaded glass made it impossible to see who was standing there but Makala realized with a sinking heart that it could not be the police. The shadow was of someone small and feminine. Who could it be?

Luis seemed to be without fear. He strolled confidently to the door, unlocked it and pulled it open.

A young girl of Makala's age stepped into the house.

Makala's heart sunk to her boots. Of all the people to come to her aid! It was her wayward cousin, Corinna.