The Power of Silence

Silence. Total, all-enveloping silence, and the room lit by a single candle that cast its flickering glow only sufficiently to expel the immediate darkness around it. Darkness visible, some people call it. My senses were tuned to maximum as they reached out into the velvety blackness that enveloped most of the room. 

A rustle, and another, and another. Buttons? Buttons being undone? The slither of fabric and the sound of it, almost undetectable, coming to rest on the floor. 

Another ‘flick’, followed by the unmistakable sound of a zip. Jeans, then? A thump, followed by “Fuck!” Her mobile falling from a pocket? 

Warmth…pure body warmth…passing close enough to me that I can smell her scent….no, scratch that….I can smell all her scents, layered one on top of the other. The natural scent of her body that I know so well….a faint hint of sweat….a waft of air as she passes in front of me brings the unmistakable scent of her vagina. She’s naked already? Perhaps…or maybe she’s just very wet. I strain my ears for more….damn this candle! Just one more would help, but I know not to ask. The one we have is placed far behind me in the corner of the room, and even that is shaded. I can see only the dimmest shapes in front of me. I hear something…a couple of almost metallic clicks followed by slithering of material…a bra, perhaps? It too lands almost, but not quite silently on the floor.

Then I hear the faint click of a spinal disc. When Emily bends forward there is always this soft click that comes from an injury as a child, painless now, thank God, but audible, nonetheless. Panties off perhaps? 

Another waft of air as she passes in front of me. Her feminine scent is more noticeable this time. 

I hear the creak of upholstery sr[ones as she sits in a chair diagonally opposite to me. I can just about make out her shape, but it merges with the chair….damnit. She sighs….a long, drawn out luxurious but also sensual sigh that turns into a moan. 

One moan becomes two which becomes three. I hear a faint squishing sound. I know how wet Emily gets when she masturbates. She loves fingering herself with two fingers at first. The wet, slippery sound is unmistakable. Later, she usually turns her attention to her clit, and rubs it frantically side to side and the sound changes. she does it so fast, so urgently that her juices are flicked onto anything near….her thighs…me….

My own vagina melts and begins to pour wetness into the French Panties I’m wearing. Dani’s French Panties. My clit thumps and demands my attention. I try to touch it, but the handcuffs bite into my wrists behind my back. I can’t even squeeze my thighs together because of this plaster cast. 

Emily moans and I inhale deeply. Have you seen The Silence of the lambs? That moment when Lecter lifts his head to the holes in the Perspex screen and sniffs….I’m sure I copied that completely. I must have done because I was instantly rewarded by my nose being filled with my fiancé’s scent. The intimate, insanely arousing scent of her sex. 

I hear rapid squishing sounds. She’s close then? For a moment, I wonder what she’s thinking about. Me? Dani? Me and Dani? Emily and Dani? Perhaps all three of us writhing on the bed together. The squishing stop and a deep guttural moan fills the darkness. It’s not an orgasm…I know the difference. She is edging, pausing to push two fingers deep inside her hole to prolong the beautiful agony of what is to come. Then the rapid slurping resumes. 

Every cell in my body wants to be between her legs right now. I know she will squirt….hell….she’ll probably pee as well. I wouldn’t mind if she did either, both. I want to talk to her, but the ball gag prevents me. She could have blindfolded me of course, but there is one torture sweeter than being able to see nothing, and that is being able to see almost nothing. 

Her breathing is rapid now, almost panting. I can feel, or rather fancy I feel her body heat as she masturbates furiously. I know if my head was on her breast I would hear her heart racing. There is movement and a small queef. I love it when her vagina speaks to me. It’s a dirty, slurpy sound, whether the air is on the way in our out. At school we used to call them Fanny farts…or pussy pouts…but I like the word ‘queef’.

Emily grunts twice then almost screams. “Ohhhh…..ahhhhhhhhhhhhh…….fuck..fuuuuuckkk…..fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck” A jet of something hits my leg. And another. It rolls down my calf, not like water, there’s a more….what….oily consistency to it….but it’s scent is pure girl cum…pure squirt. 

I am almost living her orgasm with her. I realise my breasts ache fiercely, and my nipples are hard, painfully hard. My clit it pulsing and I’m a hot mess between my legs. I know I’ve soaked through my panties without being able to see them. 

I hear a sound…creaking…Emily has got up. She walks past me…..the bitch….over to the candle in the corner of the room. There’s a short, sharp “putt” and the microscopic element of light is extinguished - gone -. Our room is it total darkness. She has even unplugged the TV and satellite box so their glow isn’t present in the room. I listen intently to her feet on the rug. I sense her on my left. The warmth of her body feels like fire….and her scent….from where I sit, her sex is at face height almost. I desperately want to find her clit with my tongue. “You want to lick me, don’t you?" Of course….who wouldn’t? "Well, not tonight sweetie.” 

Sometimes Emily will do this kind of thing and it culminates in a fuck-fest of almost epic proportions. Sometimes, though, she will leave me almost screaming for relief. One night, she tied my hands behind me and left me like that for 12 hours, her masturbating from time to time to keep me on edge. Tears rolled down my face. I simply couldn’t face that…not tonight. 

I heard her knees hit the rug as she knelt beside me. She kissed my cheek, my nose, then my ear (which drives me insane with pleasure, by the way) The she whispered, and I could smell her cunt on her breath…obviously she had sucked the fingers that had been inside her also found their way to her mouth. 

I felt her touch on my good knee, and the gentle pressure that forced it sideways. Slowly her hand travelled up my inner thigh and I felt pressure on the material of Dani’s now soaked panties. “Cum in them. Cum where her cunt has been. Squirt in her panties….just imagine….what if she gathers these for the laundry tomorrow, buries her face in them and…..”

She got no further. 

Have you ever been raped by an orgasm? By its sheer power? By its all-consuming dominance of every cell in your body? It tore through me, and ripped my soul apart. 

In its aftermath, I realised that I am Emily’s and she is mine, now, and for all time.