Love vs. Hate

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Special thanks to 1STGIRLPHOENIX for editing this story and for truly understanding what this story is all about. Thanks a lot!

Notes from the author:

This is a long story. If you’re looking for some quick action then please don’t scroll down the page. Just move on to another story. But if you’re looking for a true erotic story with a touch of genuine feelings…well, all I can say is…today’s your lucky day!

Please send your valuable feedbacks because it will really help me to understand your reactions. But more importantly, it will encourage me to improve myself.

All characters in this story are fictional and above 18 years of age. Any resemblance to a person, dead or alive, is completely co-incidental.


When we talk about our feelings and emotions, we think of the times when we felt the ecstasy, fear, disappointment, shock, nervousness and what not. All of us are familiar with them but if I ask you to pen down all the different feelings and emotions you have experienced, believe me, it’s a hell of a job.

So why is it so complicated? The straightforward answer to this million dollar question is that we cannot generate our feelings. They just pop up naturally! If you don’t believe me, just try to post a big smile the next time someone abuses you or perhaps, slaps you across your face (I hope you get the point!).

Sure you can forge or pretend to display your emotions but then, somewhere deep within your heart, you know they are not the natural genuine feelings. To put it in simple words, a feeling is like a little chicken inside an egg. You cannot force it to come out of its shell. If you break the egg, you’ll probably end up with a mess. But that’s not what you wanted, right? The point is that you have to wait for the right moment. When the time is accurate, the chicken will break through the egg and pop out.

So are we feeble and frail against our feelings and emotions? Definitely not! With a little bit of self-control and practice, we can control them and hold them within our desired limits.

The bottom line is that we cannot create our feelings but when they confront us, the power to be in command of those emotions lies within us.

So that’s it? Is that what I wanted to tell you? No!

I was just explaining the fundamental rules and principles before I move on to the exceptions. To put it differently, I was focusing on the basic cards in a pack before I move onto the Jokers. That’s right! I’m talking about the ‘Principle of Exceptions’.

There are two special emotions that are the exceptions- Love and Hate. These are the feelings which all of us have experienced (or will experience) at some point in our lives. Each one of them is capable of altering our lives by forcing us to take actions which we would otherwise have refrained from.

And, just like all of our feelings and emotions, we cannot create them. So why are they called the exceptions? The reason is that unlike others, we cannot even control them beyond a certain perimeter.

You don’t believe it, right? Then try explaining the famous saying, ‘Love is blind’ or the one that says ‘Everything is fair in Love and War’.

Well, I hope we’re on the same bench now. So we know the basic feelings as well as the two exceptions. Can things get any worse? Yes, they can! Just imagine yourself being bound by Love and Hatred at the same time. Believe me, you would prefer to take a wrong turn in the Sahara Desert or go astray in the Antarctica.

And how can I tell that? Well, all I can say is ‘Been there, done that’. This reminds me. Did I introduce myself? I guess not!

Hi, I’m Chris Lovato and the story I’m about to tell you took place two years ago when I was 22 years old. Well actually, it’s not just a story; it’s a battle between Love and Hatred. But more importantly, it is a modest attempt to define them. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: The Beginning- 12th April

It was Thursday afternoon but more importantly, it was the last day of my first year at the B-School. I was sitting on the last bench, looking outside the classroom window, staring at the concrete structures as Professor Smith gave his opinion on how we should spend the summer vacation and plan for the final year. For a moment I thought the time was blocked when I glanced at the wall clock above the white board which read 3:52 pm. It meant that I still had 8 minutes to bear the frustration.

It was the last lecture of the year and Professor Smith was going on and on and on. When he started getting on my nerves, I leaned my head on the desk and closed my eyes, thinking about the plans I had made for the summer. Suddenly, I heard the magic words.

“Thank you, class. We’ll meet after the summer. Have a great time!”

God! What took him so long to say that?

I pulled my bag over the shoulders and made my way out of the classroom.


Now you must be thinking that I was a brainless jerk who disliked books and studies, right? Well, kartal escort hello! I’m talking about the B-School!

Before you get the wrong impression about me, let me tell something about myself. I had always been an above average student throughout my academic carrier. After I graduated in Commerce, I decided to pursue M.B.A. in Finance and Management and gave the entrance exam. Thanks to the two months of sleepless hardworking nights (and a dash of luck) I found myself in the best B-School (in the city of course!).

So am I tall, dark and handsome? Well. I had a series of girlfriends and none of them had ever complained. So I guess that’s a good endorsement. Standing at 5’8”, I have an athletic body (thanks to the Basketball team at high school). Recently, I had started hitting the gym which helped me to build a few muscles, giving me an edge over my looks. My first girlfriend said that she particularly like my light brown eyes and wished she could just look into them all the time (though it never really happened cause we broke up in 5 days). I think that should sum up.


As I drove back home in my car, I felt the thrill running down my veins. The final year would be starting somewhere in mid-July so I was really looking forward to the 3 months break because the year end examination had sucked out all my energy as I studied day in day out.

Entering the neighborhood, a filthy thought struck my mind. I realized that the summer break meant that I would get a lot of time to spend at home (that’s not the disgusting part) but it also meant that I would have to spend a lot of time with that bitch.


I’m talking about my little sister-Kate Lovato. She was 20 years old then (two years younger than me) and had just completed her second year at the college. Kate and I had never got along. Right from our childhood, we had differences over almost everything and by the time we were teenagers, we always ended up with heated arguments whenever we had an interaction. Eventually, we lost the respect for each other and always acted as if the other never existed.

I still remember the day when I was in the 8th grade. Kate and I had a fight over the television remote and dad locked us in his room. He thought we would sort out the issue. By the time dad opened the door, my t-shirt was in tatters and Kate ended up with a broken nail.

As far as her looks are concerned, Kate is a ‘jaw-dropper’. I hate to say (probably because I’m jealous) but she was one of the hottest girls in the college. I know that because I was in my third and final year at college when Kate was a first year freshman. I would probably rank her at the fourth position in the list of hot and sexy girls at the college during my final year. I agree she was not among the top three. But hey! When you’re talking about 150 odd girls, being in the fourth position is not that bad.

Standing at 5’6”, Kate has a slim and curvy body. I had once checked her bra in the laundry (out of curiosity) so I know she’s a 34-C. Her breasts are perfect for a body like hers. Her jet black hair frames her face perfectly and falls gently down her neck, past her shoulders. The texture of her smooth tan skin is simply intoxicating. Her long slender legs merge into a round tight ass which is the best feature of her body. On top all of this, she has the same light brown eyes (thanks to our mom).

But she’s a bit weird. Almost every second guy in the college would hit on her but she never gave them the bait. Even my friends tried their luck when we were in the final year but she would never fall in the trap. Initially, she dated a couple of guys in the first few months of college but since then she was single. Even when I completed my first year at the B-School, she still didn’t have a boyfriend. Sometimes, I thought she swung the other way because she would spend all weekends with her girlfriends, especially with Sara- her best friend who lived in the same neighborhood. But Kate also flirted with most of the boys so I never gave it a second thought.

Okay, now I better stop talking about Kate because it makes a bit uncomfortable. So what about my family? Well, my father had passed away two years ago after a long battle with cancer. He was great man! I had always respected him for what he was and how he had brought up the family. He worked for a law firm apart from making investments in equities. He had initially invested his small surplus capital and by the time he passed away, he left us a mammoth bank balance, thanks to some smart investment decisions and the two years equity bull market. As far as mom is concerned, she’s a housewife. There’s not much to talk about her apart from the fact that she’s a loving and caring mom (as all mothers are!).


When I parked into the driveway, mom’s car was missing so I figured she must have gone somewhere. I entered the house with my spare keys and went straight to my room for kurtköy escort a nap.

It was past 7:30 pm when I woke up. Mom had returned and she was preparing the dinner when I entered the kitchen. We had a little talk before I went to my room to clean up the study table. By the time I packed my first year books, mom called me for dinner. As usual, we ate on the dining table while Kate had her dinner on the couch. When we finished our dinner, I left the house to meet Natasha.


Natasha was my girlfriend. She was 22 years old (only 9 days younger than me). She was pursuing her M.B.A. in HRM Operations in a different B-School (in the same city). Natasha had completed her first year at the B-School only a few days before I got my break. Unlike my previous girlfriends who were hot and sexy, Natasha was cute and sexy. Natasha and I had been together for almost 18 months. We initially met each other at a common friend’s birthday party and instantly felt attracted to each other. Natasha lived in the same neighborhood, only a couple of blocks away from my house so we met every night after dinner to take a walk.

Chapter 2: Definition of Hatred

The first two weeks of the summer were great. Natasha and I went for fishing, watched movies and went to clubs and what not. As usual I had some heated encounters with Kate but they were offset by the time I spend with Natasha.

It was Friday afternoon when Natasha came over at my place. We had decided to watch a movie but she somehow got involved with mom and they decided to visit the mall. Mom insisted me to join them but I flatly refused her invitation because of my previous experience with her weekly ‘mall-crawl’. So they left the house, leaving me behind, all alone and bored to death.

After playing with my X-Box for an hour, I decided to relax a bit and picked up a fashion magazine. I was lying on the bed, flipping through the pages when the bedroom door bang opened. It was Kate.

Not again! What does she want now?

She stormed in and came over to the side of the bed, standing next to me. Before I could ask what her problem was, she snatched the magazine from my hand.

“Hey, what the hell…”

“Shut up, you jerk!” she yelled at me. “Where’s that girlfriend of yours?”

“I don’t want to talk….”

“I’ll tell you where she is right now! She’s at the mall- shopping with mom! That bitch is trying to make her way into the family and I don’t like it.”

I got up and stood in front of her. She was taking deep breaths and her eyes were slightly red because of the anger. I knew it was useless to argue with her so I decided to close the topic.

“Listen, Kate…”

“No you listen!” she snapped. “Tell that bitch…”

“Shut up!” I shouted at her. “At least she’s better than you!”

“No she’s not! She’s just a whore!”


I delivered a stinging slap on her face.

“You…bastard!” she raged, trying to hit me back but I quickly grabbed her hand. When she used her other hand, I grasped it too. Before she could react any further, I pulled her towards the closet and pushed her against the door on her back and pressed my body against hers. I dragged both her arms above her head and tightened my grip on them. My face was only a few inches away from hers so we felt each others warm breaths on our lips.

“Now listen, bitch!” I said in a low tone. “Natasha is my girlfriend…and I don’t want to hear anything about her…especially from that filthy mouth of yours. Do you understand?”

Kate didn’t give any response. But the weird thing was that she didn’t fight back. She just stood there, staring at me. There was a pause for a few seconds as we continued to stare at each other. I then realized that we were in an intimate position. I felt her breasts against my chest as she took slow deep breaths. I also realized that her crotch was pressed against my cock, making it hard inside my jeans.

I could see the dampness in her eyes as she stared at me. When she finally blinked, tears rolled down her cheeks. Suddenly, I felt that I was dominating my sister so I released her hands. I thought she would take the opportunity and push me away but she didn’t.

Closing her eyes, Kate leaned her head forward as if she was trying to kiss me. When I felt her nose touching mine, I pulled myself away from her. Before I could ask her what she was trying to do, she walked out the room.


Dropping on my bed, I closed my eyes and replayed the entire episode- from the beginning till the climax.

What the hell was she trying to do?

Breaking free from my thoughts, I realized that Natasha would probably come back with mom. So I picked up my cell phone from the side table and called her. I told her everything about my encounter with Kate (except for the shocking part).

“What should I do?” she nervously asked me.

“I think you should go home when you finish the maltepe escort shopping. If you come back, Kate would probably create another scene.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you after dinner.”

“And Natasha,” I quickly added. “Don’t tell anything to mom about all this.”


I spend the entire evening in my room, lying on my bed, thinking about Kate and her behavior. The more I thought about the word she used for Natasha, my annoyance for her intensified. The only way to stop thinking about her was to occupy myself with something else. So I picked my laptop.

I was checking my mails when I heard a couple of knocks on the door.

“Come in”

It was mom. “Chris, can I have a word with you”

Shit! That bitch must have told her everything.

“Sure, mom,” I said without looking at her.

“What’s wrong with Kate? She has locked herself in her room.”

“How am I supposed to know,” I lied.

“I guess you’re right. Anyways, dinner will be ready in a few minutes.”



When I entered the kitchen, Kate was sitting on the chair at the dining table. I took the chair opposite to her and sat down without making an eye contact. As soon as mom took her seat, she asked her, “Kate, what’s wrong?”

God! There goes the dinner!

“I’m fine.”

“But the red eyes are telling something else. Why were you crying, honey?”

“I had a fight with Sara,” she blurted as she stood up and picked up her plate. “I hope you’re happy, mom!” And with that she went to her room and locked the door.

Wow! Where did that come from?

After we finished the dinner, I left the house to meet Natasha.


Few days later, Kate was back to normal- talking rudely to mom, shouting and yelling around the house and fighting with me over pointless issues.

The next Saturday evening, Natasha was at my place. Mom had gone to the club and Kate was not in the house. We were sitting on the living room couch and watching a movie. Natasha rested her head on my chest and my hand was around her waist. When the movie ended, I turned off the television.

“So what should we do?” she asked me as she raised her head.

“I think I have an idea.”

“And what would that be?” She looked a bit confused.

I leaned forward and kissed her on her lips, gently sucking on them. With my free hand, I brushed off the hair from her cheek and tucked it behind her ear, placing it behind her head to pull her towards me. As our kiss became passionate, I heard Kate.

“There’s a place called bedroom for doing such things!”

Natasha pulled away quickly, breaking our lip-lock. She was clearly embarrassed with Kate’s presence. I turned around on the couch and saw her standing in the living room, staring at us as if she we had committed a crime.

“Mind your own business,” I said blankly.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do,” she snapped. “I’m stopping this bitch from turning our house into a brothel.”

“Shut up, Kate!” You better mind your language.”

“Chris, forget it,” Natasha interrupted as she got up from the couch. “I think I should leave.”

“Don’t try to act so innocent, you bitch!” Kate targeted Natasha. “If I was 5 minutes late; I would have found you screwing him on the couch.”

Getting up from the couch, I warned her, “Kate, get out of here before I loose my temper.”

“Yes, I will! Because this place is starting to stink.” She took a few steps towards her room before stopping and turning around. “Take my advice, Chris. You better get her into your bed…because this bitch is so desperate…she’ll catch the first guy she meets on her way back.”

That’s it!

“You’ll pay for this, slut!” I stormed towards her in sheer rage. I swear I would have punched her that time but before I could reach for her, I saw Natasha running out of the living room.


“Natasha, wait!” I ran after her but she went out of the house, closing the door behind her. Finally, catching her hand on the driveway I stopped her. She was crying profoundly.

“I’m sorry Natasha,” I managed to say as I caught my breath. “You know she’s crazy.”

“I don’t want to talk about this, Chris,” she said. “Just let me go.” She pulled her hand away and walked out of the driveway. Standing alone, I felt my blood boiling inside me. My anger for Kate had reached the break-even point.

That’s it! It’s time to end this once and for all.

When I stormed into her room, Kate was sitting on her bed. I went over to her and pulled her up to make her stand in front of me.

“You want to hit me again? Go ahead! That’s all you can do, Chris.”

“There’s no point in doing that,” I replied. “You’re crazy! You’ve lost it, Kate.”

“I did the right thing,” she argued.

“Oh, yeah? Well I think I should do the right thing as well.”

The expressions on her face changed slightly as she tried to figure out what I was saying. But she was completely unaware of my decision. There was a tension building inside her as she tried to figure out my intention.

“From this moment,” I said in a low pitch, looking straight at her, “You are not my sister.” I stressed on each word as I continued, “I hate you, Kate! The moment I get my degree, I swear I’ll move out of this place.”

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