Sonic Booms of the Language Barrier Ch. 1
Night. In the dark.
I lay on the bed, naked and hot even with the windows and bedroom door open as she rolled over onto me, still breathing fast through the haze of humidity and incense smoke which hung in the room like an atmospheric wet spot. I loved the sound of that fast action breathing of hers. I loved many of the sounds she could make. But now I am getting ahead of myself aren’t I?
It was June, and it was a hot June to say the least. Outside on the street we could hear the street sounds of traffic going endlessly back and forth. Laughter and loud voices moving up and down the street. The originators of those voices no doubt bouncing around the numerous bars in the neighborhood, maybe to visit with friends, maybe to make new friends or even just a temporary friend. The loud music of the band playing the bar directly across the street became louder every time someone opened the door. On very humid nights you can actually make out the lyrics as they are being sung. On this night I very well could have sung along if I had not been preoccupied with force ramming my cock into the lady friend who was leaning over me. I had always found it very erotic to make love with the windows open on a busy street. You could hear the street travelers out there, sometimes even smell them, but on the third floor they couldn’t see you or hear you- at least most of the time. I was listening to the street sounds as I suddenly felt her pressing the glass yet again to my lips.
“Here, have some more…” she whispered to me with a tipsy rise in her tone. In the dark I felt the cool smooth surface of glass pressing against and parting my lips even as she extended out a long nailed finger and caressesingly scratched it down my cheek. I could not see her nails, but I had taken notice of them as I had thrown her hands up in order to tear the sexy little cocktail dress from her body not a half hour earlier. They were deep red and shining so bright they almost seemed to reflect like mirrors. They were her real nails so far as I knew, and they were long enough and sharp enough that I could still feel the scratch she had put on my chest after I had torn down the zipper on her dress and pulled her free of it. Compared to that, the soft and controlled smoothness of her nail upon my cheek sent a tingle through my spine.
Her body at the time was resting upon my right arm; in my left hand I held a lit cigarette. The breeze coming in through the window was still evaporating her moisture from my cock we had finished so recently. The breeze also worked to cool my blood rushed member in the process. She slowly tilted the glass upward, cooling my wet lips as well. I felt the wine drip and splash upon my lips and felt my excitement brew again. For a moment of clarification though it was not her feeding me wine as if in some Roman slave fantasy that excited me so. It was the way she did it. The way I felt her nail cut softly into the skin of my cheek even as the cool glass touched my lips. The unplanned way I could not move my arms. And most of all, the way she knew it. My hands were entirely full between her and the cigarette. It was not planned this way but without either of us gasping a single word she was fully aware of it. By the labored way I heard her breathing and the way she started to grind her sweaty body down into my arm and hand, she knew exactly what she was doing. As you will learn, there are many things about this night that I am unsure of, but of that I have no doubt.
I drank as she held it to my lips. I felt a cool little splash on my upper chest. I jolted suddenly as the cold wine hit my skin. She clearly moaned as I sipped at the wine.
“Drink,”
was all that she said. She was pivoting her hips around on my arm, moving her legs back and forth. She was small, but she was pressing into my arm hard, cutting off the circulation. Her ass rested on my hand. I could feel her pushing and swinging her ass down into my hand. I extended my fingers upward, grasping, holding her soft sweaty flesh. She moaned just as she began to pour the wine into my mouth. It tasted cool and refreshing to me at first, even as the heat-induced dehydration made it rush to my head. My mouth filled with cold, very refreshing wine. She held it yet to my mouth. I exhaled a breath like a long sigh through my nose to signal that I had had enough. Either she did not get the message or she ignored it because she tilted the glass higher, pouring more wine into my open lips. She began to move her body harder against my skin. I reflexively tried to raise my arms. She was small but not so small that I could lift her up from that position so my right arm was useless. I began to move my left and remembered the lit smoke in my hand. I could smell it if not see it. I swallowed down a big gulp of wine even as she poured more in, fast enough that I couldn’t take in a breath of air. My lungs were empty. My entire body tensed with a prelude to total panic. I made a loud guttural sound in my throat that would have more resembled a scream than a moan.
Her only response was a whispered sound that could only be described as a laugh.
With that laugh, the true games of the evening commenced.
My mouth filled; she kept pouring. I swallowed more and managed to suck a half breath through my nose. Wine was flowing down my chin on both sides. She poured and I swallowed. Her legs were rubbing up and down my body and rubbing against each other like a cricket’s. She was completely cutting off the circulation to my lower arm and hand. My fingertips had started to tingle; my arm and hand were throbbing with a dumbly numb sensation that bordered on but did not quite break over into pain. I felt her rest a hand on my chest gently. A few seconds later as I tried to swallow the wine I felt those magnificent nails dig into my skin. My chest was heaving like an iron bending bellows but I still felt like I was getting no air. She tilted the glass more.
“Drink,”
she said again.
Having no real choice in the matter and dizzy, I drank and drank more. I felt the rim of the glass mercifully touch my nose, as I was sure I was about to pass out. I sucked in the wine, finally the last of the wine. I felt it flow down and I took it all in as large a swallow as I could possibly muster. As I felt the last swallow reflex, my lips opened again. It felt indescribably wonderful as air rushed into my mouth like a spasm. I opened my chest and sucked in breath loudly. She was off of my arm instantly. Blood rushed to my fingers. I exhaled and breathed again. I went lightheaded. Somewhere in the dark she moved. But I focused on breathing again. My heart raced; my lungs flexed over and over again. My body mimicked the motion with my arms and legs spasmed with each breath. Both breath and body fell into a pulsing rhythm that slowly, mercifully began to calm. Wine still dripped from my lips. Air leaked into and out of my lungs. The room came into perspective and I felt alert again. The night sounds of the bar patrons and endless traffic came back to me. The band playing across the street was singing a rather not bad version of “Hard To Handle.”
I flexed my fingers and brought my smoke to my lips. I tried to suck on it but it was long since burned out and gone to ashes on the floor somewhere. I reached behind and slipped it into the tray on the headboard where she was burning incense. I grabbed next to it and felt my pack of cigarettes. With all the dexterity of a good escape artist, I pulled one out and put it in my mouth, still sprawled out flat on the bed. I flicked the lighter, casting the whole area in low light for an instant as I lit the end of the cigarette.
I saw her.
