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13 June 2013

Silent Movie


I am sat next to him on the sofa, his legs outstretched they seem to go on forever.

I imagine them naked, my tongue working up the inside of his thigh, working its way gently until I reach his cock that I can see outlined beneath the material of his trousers.

My mind drifts from his legs to wondering how far down my throat his cock would reach, I am sure that it would fill me going on the bulge within his trousers.  As my eyes wander upwards, I see his eyes watching me appraise his body.  I look at him, feel my cheeks redden a little as if he can see the images that rush through my mind. 

Our gaze doesn't break, not even when you come into the room with the drink that I had asked you to fetch for us.  You stand there watching me, watching him, and I don't need to look at you to know what you're feeling or thinking.  I can sense the daggers flying from you to him, the rising jealousy coming from the pit of your stomach.  I know that you are hating him right now. Loving this right now. Knowing those feelings grow within you, make the feelings grow within me even more.  They go straight to the pit of my stomach, a flurry of excitement and deep arousal gushing through my veins, while your own body is engulfed in jealousy at the closeness of him and I.

You hold out the drinks and I am forced to break my gaze.  I stare at you, raising my eyebrows slightly.  You lower your eyes and blush and know what you have done and yet, you couldn't seem to help yourself.  You also know that I will deal with that interruption later.

You kneel down by my leg and I feel the grip that you take getting tighter by the moment, trying to draw reassurance.  I do not respond or acknowledge, instead choosing to ignore your tightening hold, as if you're afraid to let go for fear of forever losing all that you have.  You continue to watch me and him.

I lean across the sofa, leaning in to whisper into his ear "He's all yours" 

I remove my leg from your grip and stand to walk away.  From the floor you look at me, your eyes beseeching, searching for an answer, waiting for me to tell you to follow.

I don't.

You look bewildered, scared, dismayed that I am leaving you there.  You not being aware of my plans for you. 

Instead I walk out of the room, leaving you with him. Leaving the look of fear in your eyes, your reddening cheeks, your twitching cock.

I head to the garden with my drink, taking a seat on a chair that I know if I swivel around on I will be able to see you through the glazed doors. 

I sip my drink slowly, savouring the coldness of the liquid, thankful for the chance to moisten my mouth that was so dry from anticipation, from knowing what was going to happen.  The feelings that your growing jealousy sparked within me, my beast is prowling.  The beast is aching to be released and let free. I resist turning round for a short time, but what feels like an age.  I want to watch your struggles.

I want to see you.

And him.

I turn around on my chair, just in time to see you take his huge cock in your mouth.  His hands pulling you in closer by your hair, I see you gag and choke on the cock that is forcing its way into your mouth, the same cock I had only moments before, been envisaging down my own throat.

As my own arousal builds, I close my thighs tighter to revel in my own feelings, the ones that seeing you with him have created.  The ones that have gone straight to my cunt.

And I watch him.  Fucking your mouth. Complete disregard for the fact that you are choking and coughing and gagging on him every time he forces his cock deeper and deeper into your throat.  And I am watching him take you.  And I can see the tears forming at your eyes from where he is taking you.

You are Gagging. Choking. Taking him in deep, all of him.

It is like watching a most beautiful silent movie.  His hands tearing at your hair, forcing you onto him.  Forcing himself deeper in to you.  His own arousal as he approaches and releases his own orgasm.  A scene played out from start to finish.  A most beautiful scene.

I see him lean into you, whisper something in your ear, while making himself decent.  He turned, looked at me through the window, a nod. A smile. And he leaves.

I go back into the room you are still on the floor where I left you.  Where he left you.

Exhausted. Drained. Spent. 

I kiss you gently on the forehead and wait for you to come back to me, waiting for you to catch your breath.

Holding you close as you collapse into me, your arms gripping tightly around my legs as I stroke your head.

You smile.

I know that we will do this again.











3 comments:

  1. There is no rose without a thorn. But how sharp is this thorn! Brave man

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  2. Dear Kat.

    Oh, how I have missed this, missed your words. How I have missed the fact that when I read them, I am transported to that moment, to those feelings. Your writing never fails to take me there, I will be forever envious of the lucky boy who ever gets to go there with you. I do hope that on your turning of your pages, as you open the covers to your book, that you will discover a new character to come into your life. You, dear Kat, deserve nothing less.

    Yours, as always, A

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  3. Brave man? Brave 2 of them. This is connection. Being solid with each other. Knowing exactly who your partner is and knowing when you can both visit such a space. I have often thought of being with someone where we could both visit such a place. The focus of performing such an act would be on her, she would be in my vision, with me. pablo

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