This story is completely for the shear entertainment of. I'm no professional, in fact most of my English essays were bad. Nonetheless, I came out of my comfort zone to make this story that has slowly developed in my head as I go. I got inspiration from the modern feel of romance and I guess sexual innuendoes in stories and media.
If you are looking for something quick and shameless, then I suggest that you flip to a different story since I don't work that. My method goes deep into detail so if you, AKA the reader, get bored at a part, all I ask is that you bear with me due to it being made to fit the larger picture. I also like to sync my stories with real time events to make the story seem more immersive.
All I ask of you, AKA the reader, is to support me as I A) make this story up as I write it, and B)consider that this is my first story that I will write that hasn't been explaining Mythology or a paper on Quantum Physics.
Thank You, and I hope that you enjoy the following series.
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I don't know how I ended up in this situation. I woke up on my bed facing my window. I felt a gust of wind on my bare shoulder, but it was warm. It startled me a bit considering that I lived on the 20
th
floor of my apartment complex. It felt really nice though, until I realised another warm feeling brushing my side and another cupping my breast. I immediately snapped out of my morning haze and felt the soft rhythmic breathing of another person sleeping next to me... scratch that... sleeping with me. I made the slightest effort to look at the person and realised it was another woman, but not just any. This woman was my best friend, Bella, back in secondary. It felt good, I had a crush on her since I actually moved to the States and laid my eyes on her. But, right now I'm starting to get ahead of myself. I should probably talk about my past and how this all started.
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My name is McKayla Andrea Bellanotti- Romanov. What a name, am I right? I was born in Manchester on February 14
th
, 1994. I am tall, clocking at about 2 meters, or 6'2". My body isn't exactly that of an average woman's. I have long brunette hair that just barely touches the edge of my waist. My big dark brown eyes rest on top of my cheek bones of my somewhat rounded face. My facial features are soft yet it radiates a soft glow of courage and bravery, or so my mum would say. My lips are full and plump and are softer than feathers, well, at least that's how I feel them. My chest on the other hand is fairly hefty, but were firm and somewhat defied gravity as all the guys would say (and some girls). They clocked to be an H cup size so, I will always get stares. My flat belly then smoothed out to be my hips which kind of stuck out. My hips formed the base of my two big arse cheek which then formed the base of my thighs. I'm the kind of girl that all guys would just stop and yell "daaayyyyuuuuummmmm". With that, I've grown costumed to it. What can I say, thanks mum!!
My dad, Giovanni Vincenzo Bellanotti, was born in a small villa around Rome on October 18, 1965. Yeah that's right, I'm half Italian. Che cosa hai intenzione di fare al riguardo?!?! My dad was tall, clocking at over the two metre mark, or 6'7". He has a very strong athletic build that would have made any woman drop their panties off back in the day. It feels kind of awkward describing my dad, I mean, he's my dad. Anyways, by the time he was eight, the economic problems started to come over Italy. In an attempt to get out of it, my dad and grandparents moved to Argentina because they wanted to go to a place that had a lot of Italian influence and that would match their culture. Which is also my culture. He learned Spanish fairly quick and also learned English at the same time. When he graduated from secondary, he decided to go to one of the local colleges and study. This is where he would meet my mum.
My mum, like my dad, was not of British origins. My mum, Alina Romanov, was born in St. Petersburg, Russia. She was the middle child of a family of five. My uncle Peter was the oldest and my aunt Sasha was the baby of the bunch. My mum, like me, has a very curvaceous figure that would make any man fall to their knees. The differences between her and me are very minimal. She has short blonde hair, green eyes, and high cheek bones. She like me, has to spend her life with guys staring and flirting her up. She spent her whole life in Russia learning English and when she was fifteen, all of them moved to London. Once in London, my mum got the idea of being a doctor and when she puts her mind to something, she hardly ever backs down. She studied Spanish while in England and she did very well on her school work. When she finished secondary, she went to study in Argentina for her medical degree.
Now, since in Argentina a single school teaches more than one career, my mum and dad met at the same college. At first, my mum wanted nothing to do with him. "I found no interest in a guy that probably went around fucking every girl he saw", is all she told us, even though that wasn't the case. Finally, my mum gave him a chance. Her original intentions were so that he'd shut up, but it turned to be a loving relationship. If not, how in bloody hell would I be here.
They finished school and my mum asked him to move back to U.K. with her. He happily obliged. They settled up in Manchester and I think you can guess what comes next. On June 25
th
, 1990, my brother was born. It took my parents a total of two days to just name him. Finally, they made the agreement to name him Michael. My mum usually found herself calling him Mikael instead. This embarked on their journey for rest of their lives.
Four years later, I came out. They told me my name was the hardest since they weren't really expecting a girl. Five days. It took five days for them to name me. They kept arguing ether to name me Kayla, Catalina, or Michelle. In the end they mashed all the names up to make my name now: McKayla.
I think my mum fell into a rhythm because another four years passed and my sister Natasha was born. It was August 21
st
of 1998. They named her on spot having me and Michael a little uneasy, but hey, we love our sister.
Again on April 23
rd
, 2002, my brother Alex was born. He looked just like his father and unlike my resemblance with Natasha, Michael and Alex actually looked somewhat alike. All, Natasha and I have somewhat in common is our eye colour and our cleavage, even to this day. Life was good. Everything went pretty well, no real harm ever done to our family other than a small break in to our house, until tragedy hit.
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The day was July 15
th
, 2007, I will never forget this day. I was thirteen. My mum and I were cooking something for dinner while Natasha was playing on my Xbox 360 in my room. Yes, I'm a gamer. I love playing the story in games. Anyways, my dad had just gotten back from work and was watching the Tele with Alex. Michael was supposed to be here in about ten minutes and we wanted to have dinner ready for him and his girlfriend. Everything was going perfectly until the phone rang.
"Hello", my dad answered.
"Mr Bellanotti...come...quickly...hospital!" It was Natalie, Michael's girlfriend. We could clearly tell she was crying.
"What, why? You know what fuck it, we'll be there in ten!" I could hear the anger, the worry, and the sadness in his voice.
We all got in the car and got to the hospital almost immediately. When we arrived, Natalie was sitting on one of the plush seats and what seemed to be crying her eyes out. When she saw us, she immediately stood up and ran toward us. She couldn't form any words, she just kept crying. My parents, and myself, stepped in to calm her down and tell us what happened.
"Natalie, I need you to calm down and tell me what FUCKING happened." My dad could no longer hold on to the anger and just let out on her. She just kept crying. My father grew impatient so I stepped in.
"Natalie, I need you to stop crying for a bit and tell us what happened." I felt how stern my voice was even though I was just thirteen.
"He got... into a... accident. McKayla, I couldn't..." She burst into tears. "He's in that room." She pointed to the room right across from us. My heart immediately stopped as I looked into the room. There lay my brother, hooked up to life support in a deep coma. I grabbed Natalie and all of us ran into the hospital room. It was tragedy. My brother, whom I've looked up to all of my life, lay there dying, hooked up to a machine in hope to re-establish his brain activity. I was the first to go up in tears. My parents just stared in shock.
"How did this happen," my father said with sadness and overwhelming anger, "How did THIS FUCKING HAPPEN?" I have never seen him this angry.
"Drunk driver", Natalie choked. My mum just collapsed into tears right there.
Not much happened then. Just a whole lot of crying and grieving done by all of us. About half an hour later the doctor came in with a file and tape recorder. I repeated the words in my head as he said them... bloody hell.
The time is now 18:56, attempts of re-establishing brain activity and pulse, have failed. Mark this as official time of death.
He looked at all of us and simply said quietly, "I'm sorry for your loss. Truly, I am." Then he just walked out. I couldn't talk or anything at all. I had Natalie in my arms. Every now and then she would stop her crying to say, "I'm so sorry, McKayla," or something along those lines. I let go of Natalie so I could have some of the comfort of my mother. My mum was muttering something in Russian and even though I was fluent in Russian, I couldn't make out what she was saying. I spoke to her in Russian so no one could understand our words. That's what I thought. I completely forgot the fact that Natasha was also fluent in Russian.
"What's going to happen now," I asked my mother in Russian. "What are we going to do with his stuff, more yet, what will we do with Natalie. Look at her, she is devastated."
"Oh, McKayla. My brave and courageous, McKayla." The way my mum spoke Russian always put me in my comfort zone no matter what situation. "Always wanting to help others." We laughed which alleviated the situation a bit.
After about thirty minutes or so we had to leave. When we left, I felt something change inside me. I was holding Natalie a little more than I probably should even though she didn't mind. But, something still felt different. I wanted to be with another woman that wasn't my family. I wanted the comfort from a woman that Natalie was currently giving me. No, I didn't want it, I craved it. I had little self-control back then so I started caress her body in the car ride to her house. She was fast asleep as I brushed the hair out of her face. I never noticed how pretty she was. So soft, so fragile and comforting. I was tempted to kiss when the car stopped. I ended up poking her cheek to wake her up. When she did, she said her goodbye's was about to get out of the car when I landed a kiss on her cheek. It was a simple kiss. Nothing saying,
I'm deeply in love with, I need you to fuck me
, even though that's kind of what I wanted. When we drove off, I turned back and saw Natalie with her eyes closed and mouth open, just cupping the cheek that I had just kissed.
