couple sleeping in bed under a white sheet, only their feet visible

They fucked in the darkness. Facedown on the bed as he held her there. Her left hand gripping the tangled bedsheets as she exulted in being taken, her right hand clawing at the mattress with every thrust.

Bodies straining against each other. No words. Silence apart from gasps and moans, from the slap of flesh against flesh.

They’d woken, entwined, her head still resting on his chest. She’d looked up at him, his expression alert but unreadable, his gaze boring into hers. She’d shifted, lifting her chin up to kiss him but stopped as his hands had moved to grip her shoulders.

Without a word, she found herself being turned away from him, pushed facedown in the bed. His grip was firm, digging into her skin just enough to be painful, to send that familiar, always-yearned-for sensation washing through her. He’d said no words and neither had she – he’d lifted and moved her like an object. Her breath quickened: he knew her so well.

His hands had lifted from her shoulders. A fingertip traced down her exposed neck and along her spine. Initially gentle, by the time it had reached the small of her back, it was scratching. Hard. She’d revelled in that short trail of pain, arching her back to meet it. He knew her so well.

His hands had gripped her ass cheeks and she’d groaned with that old familiar thrill, lifting her hips up to present herself to him even before he could even begin to lift her. Her arms flat on the bed and her breasts crushed against the mattress, she’d stayed in that position. Ass up. Exposed. Waiting. Wet. He knew her so well.

He could have turned on the lights then. The bright bulbs would have illuminated her vulnerability, her readiness to all who could see – and that would have been many. As usual, they hadn’t bothered to shut the curtains. Everyone who lived opposite would have been able to see her and she revelled in the thought of it. She’d imagined that crowd of people pushing their way into the room, eager to see her close up as she was taken, and her head had spun with apprehension and desire, so much desire. An audience of hard cocks and wet cunts, eager to watch and more…

But this time they’d left the lights off. This time had been for them alone. For her to lie there, an object eager to be used. For him to briefly exercise some shreds of self-control, to restrain himself and tease her, make her wait and make her beg, before neither of them could hold back any longer.

He’d traced the curves of her bum with his fingers. Roughly, groping and scratching as she gasped at his touch. He’d pause and she’d wiggle impatiently, signalling her readiness for more. She would have pleaded and he would have called her the filthy names that she knew and loved, but they’d both known the rules for that night: no speaking, only touch and movement. In sync through wordless communication.

She’d urged him on with her hips, her sharp intakes of breath, her groans as his fingers roughly explored her slick cunt. She’d grinned, briefly, as she’d pushed back against him and dragged a wordless cry out of him by rubbing her wet lips along the shaft of his stiff cock. A brief grin that he’d wiped off her face by spanking her ass with staccato smacks from his strong hands. Rapid-fire spanks, reddening her cheeks, that made her whimper and sigh.

He’d lubricated his thumb in her wet cunt then teased her asshole with it. She’d moaned exultantly and pushed back, welcoming him in. The mattress had shifted as he’d changed position and she’d felt his stubble scrape against her ass cheeks as his mouth found her cunt. Kissing, sucking, licking. She’d tried pushing back into him, lost in the sensations, but his free hand had grabbed hold of her right thigh to keep her still. He’d teased her with his lips and tongue while his thumb thrust in and out of her ass, delighting in her whimpers and moans but drawing away when she’d got too excited.

Suddenly, he’d stopped. His touch had fallen away from her skin. Silence. She’d began to move but a firm hand had pressed down between her shoulder blades. A clear message: stay where you are. She’d eagerly acquiesced, kept her breasts pressed into the mattress and her ass high, signalling her desire with a wiggle. He’d chuckled under his breath and quickly raked his nails down her back. She’d shivered at his touch.

The unmistakable sound of a foil packet being torn open. She’d felt him shift position and knew he was rolling the condom over his hard cock. And then, she’d felt the heat of his body against hers. His breath on her neck as he kissed it, just once. She’d let out a moan as she’d felt the tip of his cock rest against her wet lips. There was a pause as he’d kept absolutely still, an unspoken question: did she want this?

She’d reached back and parted her ass cheeks for him, a signal of desire, of consent, of sheer lust that he couldn’t mistake, displaying her eager, ready cunt. And then he’d begun.

He’d gripped her shoulder with one hand, her ass with the other and slowly, agonisingly, he’d thrust into her. Short, shallow thrusts. He’d held her tight so she couldn’t move, couldn’t push back and impale herself on what she wanted so badly.

Her only consolation as he’d teased her was that she knew him so well. She’d known that this was torment for him too, that he’d wanted nothing more to thrust hard into her, to bury his cock in her eager cunt, to give into his own lust.

But he’d kept control, of her and of himself. He’d made her wait, as she moaned with delight and frustration, over and over. She’d had no idea how long he’d made her wait, lost in a haze of pleasure and denial.

Then she’d screamed as he thrust his full length into her. One hand on her shoulder, pushing her torso into the bed, the other tight in her hair. Willingly helpless, she pushed back with her ass as he took her, in synch with his movements. Hard, slow thrusts. Again and again. Her body had shaken with each stroke and she’d revelled in his every gasp and grunt each time he buried his cock inside her.

And now they fucked in the darkness. Facedown on the bed as he held her there. Her left hand gripping the tangled bedsheets as she exulted in being taken, her right hand clawing at the mattress with every thrust.

No words. Silence apart from sighs and gasps, and the slap of flesh against flesh. Bodies straining against each other. Raw intimacy and primal lust.

Slow thrusts turned to fast as they moved as one, in sync through wordless communication of urgent desire. The silence faded, becoming overwhelmed with grunts and wordless cries of pleasure.

The bed shook. He took her as she lay there, willingly helpless. She pushed back against him, trying to tip him over the edge as he gripped her hips hard and thrust even harder. She unclenched her right hand and began to move it down, reaching underneath to find her cunt. An exultant gasp broke from him as he saw what she was doing. He moved his own right hand in response, grasping her hair in his clenched fist and pulling her head back. Her body shifted. She screamed as the angle of his thrusts changed and yet more pleasure raced through her. His thrusts became more urgent and his shouts mirrored her own.

His cock. Her fingers. It built and built, her body shaking in anticipation. So close. Still building as he thrust into her, the room filled with their wordless cries. So fucking close. His right hand still locked tight around her hair, his left clawing at her ass as he finally lost control. So fucking close now. Yes. Yes. It built and built and wouldn’t stop, and she screamed as the ecstasy overwhelmed her. He thrust into her with primal need, all control lost and the echoes of her cries were drowned out by his moans and shouts as he came, so hard, inside her.

Drenched in sweat, they collapsed on the bed. Silence filled the room, punctuated only by the sounds of their breathing.

And then, a chuckle from him.

“God, I love your cunt”

She smiled. Used and satisfied.

Written by Master Venture.

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Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

5 thoughts on “Wordless

    1. Oops Apologies to both Rebel and Master Venture for failing to notice it was a guest post – anyway great writing and great choice – only excuse is being completely distracted by a very special date in Soho coming up tomorrow afternoon – hopefully will write about it at some point. Mike

  1. The use of repetition in this piece is really effective. It works along with the staccato pace of the short sentences to convey a sense of urgency.

    Nicely done. ?

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