The Strange Word

The woman was lying in bed, her body writhing with pleasure as the man moved over her. Her hands were clenched tightly into the bedspread and a soft moan escaped from her lips as he thrust himself deeper inside of her. It was a truly exquisite feeling for her, as if every nerve ending in her body had been electrified by his touch and she felt herself surrendering to it completely.

"Ohhh," she moaned softly, arching up against him as he continued to move within her, pushing them both ever closer towards the edge of oblivion.

There was a tension coiling deep within her belly, growing more intense with each powerful thrust that sent waves of pleasure radiating through every inch of skin on her body.

The man continued to move, his thrusts becoming harder and more powerful as he pushed himself further into her. The woman's moans grew louder and more passionate as the sensations overwhelmed her. She clung onto him tightly, feeling every inch of their bodies grinding against each other in perfect harmony.

Her screams intensified with each movement, echoing off the walls of the room as they moved together in a frenzied passion. His hands were gripping her hips firmly now, pushing deeper and faster than ever before until she felt like she was about to burst from pleasure.

Her body trembled beneath his touch, writhing uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure tore through her being like an unstoppable force of nature.

Charlotte unlocked the door to her apartment and pushed it open, stepping inside. She glanced down at the floor and saw a pair of large men's shoes lying haphazardly on the floor. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and she kicked the shoes aside with a scowl.

She walked towards the kitchen, now hearing faint moans coming from her bedroom.

She groaned and shook her head, disgusted.

She dropped her handbag on the couch, frustration bubbling inside her like a boiling pot of water, threatening to spill over.

She slammed the fridge door shut, muttering under her breath about her mother's lack of boundaries. With a huff, she grabbed a frying pan from the cabinet, clattering the metal against the others as she did.

Charlotte chopped vegetables she had just taken out of the fridge with unnecessary force, the sound of her knife hitting the cutting board echoed through the empty kitchen.

Her movements were quick and sharp, as if each action was an outlet for her anger. The clanking of pots and pans filled the space, a symphony of frustration.

She couldn't even enjoy the simple act of cooking, something that usually brought her joy.

Footsteps approached from behind. Her mother appeared in the doorway, a smug smile on her face.

"What are you cooking?" she asked in a sing-song voice.

The sound of her mother's voice interrupted her thoughts, and Charlotte's eyes narrowed as she turned to face her.

Charlotte glanced up, her eyes narrowing.

"Do you mind?" she snapped, gesturing to the food on the stove.

"I'm trying to make myself dinner."

She sighed then began again.

"What are you doing here, Mom? And who is he?"

She nodded her head in the direction of the bedroom.

Her mother's smile faltered for a moment, but then she shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh, just a friend. We're having a little fun, that's all."

Charlotte's expression darkened.

"Fun? You're having sex on my bed with some random guy? Without even asking me first?"

Her mother rolled her eyes.

"Relax, Charlotte. It's not a big deal. You're not even using it right now."

Charlotte's anger bubbled up inside of her, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm down.

"That's not the point, Mom. You can't just come into my house and do whatever you want. You have to respect my space and my belongings."

Her mother huffed impatiently.

"Oh, please. It's not like I'm stealing from you or anything. I'm just borrowing your bed for a little while. What's the harm in that?"

Charlotte shook her head, her voice rising.

"The harm is that you're not respecting me or my things.”

“And please don't tell me you plan on staying the night here…with him? If that's your plan, then you better leave with him.”

Charlie ran her hands through her hair, eyes faltering from her daughter's.

“And before you leave, do the laundry,” Charlotte added.

Her mother looked surprised and asked, "Why should I do the laundry?"

Charlotte's voice rose in frustration as she responded,

"Why? Because you came into my house without asking, had sex with a random man on my bed, and now you want to leave without taking care of the mess you've created? The least you can do is the laundry."

Her mother's face softened a bit and she said,

"I'm sorry Charlotte, I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I'll do the laundry before I leave."

Charlotte sighed, feeling a bit guilty for her outburst.

"Just please, next time, ask before you come over and don't bring anyone to my house without my permission."

Her mother nodded, leaving the kitchen.

Charlotte continued sautéing the vegetables in the pan, tossing them lightly with a wooden spoon as she heard footsteps behind her again.

Assuming it was her mother, she sighed and muttered under her breath,

"What now?"

But as she turned to face the intruder, she saw that it was not her mother, but a young man who couldn't have been much older than her.

She frowned in confusion, wondering how he's her mom's hookup.

He was not wearing a shirt, and she could see his well-defined abs and pecs. He was wearing only a pair of pants that hung low on his hips. Charlotte couldn't help but notice the way his muscles rippled at his slight movements.

He looked up at her and their eyes met. Charlotte can feel her cheeks flush as she takes in his appearance, but she composed herself.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice instantly laced with irritation.

He gazed intently at her.

"If you're looking for her, well, she's not here. And you can't just come into my house and walk around half-naked,” she added, waving her wooden spoon at his torso.

The young man simply looked at her with a blank expression.

"Mate."

Charlotte groaned, rolling her eyes in frustration.

"Why do I keep hearing this stupid word today?"

The young man continued to stare at her, as if waiting for her to respond. Charlotte felt a surge of anger rising within her - not only was this stranger in her home, but he was being rude and uncommunicative.

"Look, I don't know who you are or why you're here, but you need to leave," she said firmly, turning back to the stove and stirring the vegetables once more.

The young man remained silent, and Charlotte felt a growing sense of unease. She turned back to him and raised her voice, .

"I said you need to leave!"

Charlotte turned back to the stove, feeling her anger simmering beneath the surface, only to find the young man still standing there.

"What the hell, creep?" she said, her tone cold and unfriendly.

He just stood there, with a small smile on his lips, and replied with a simple word,

"Mate."

Charlotte rolled her eyes, feeling frustrated and annoyed at the situation.

"What do you want from me?" she said, turning off the stove and putting down the pan.

"Isn't today just a great day?" She haha-ed sarcastically, obviously burning will frustration and exhaustion.

Like was controlled with a remote, the guy continued to walk closer to her. Charlotte's heart began to race. She could feel her breaths becoming shallow, and her body tensing up. She felt cornered, as if she had nowhere to go. The intensity in the air was palpable, and she could feel her own fear rising within her.

She took a step back, trying to create some distance between them, but he continued to approach her. His eyes bore into hers, and she could feel his hot breath on her face.

Her eyes fell on the muscles in his chest which were rippling seductively beneath his skin, and it only made her feel more vulnerable.

Charlotte was already on edge and the man's unwelcome advance pushed her over the edge. She could feel her heart pounding and her palms getting sweaty as he stepped closer.

She saw his eyes wander over her body and she felt violated.

He said "mate" again.

She snapped, without thinking, swinging the spoon in her hand and hitting him squarely on the cheek. He stumbled back in shock, clutching his face and letting out a yelp of pain.

Charlotte's heart was racing as she glared at him, feeling a mix of anger and fear.

"What the hell?" she shouted at him, her voice shaking with emotion.

"You think you can just come in here and do whatever you want? You're sick!"

The man tried to speak, but Charlotte wasn't listening.

"You're done with my mom, now I'm next?" she spat at him.

"You sick psycho. Get out of my house right this instant!"

The man looked stunned, still holding his face. He muttered something unintelligible and turned to leave.

Charlotte watched him go, her heart still pounding in her chest.

What the hell just happened, she muttered to herself; her heartbeats heavy like it was going to explode.