The Sound of Silence

It has been a while now. A writer's block and responsibilities during the ongoing pandemic are the reasons for a considerable gap in time before a new story could make an appearance here.

A well-researched labour of love lies incomplete on my hard disk and I am hoping this short work, the idea for which occurred to me during an extremely long and depressing drive would get the creative juices flowing again.

I must also thank a fan who recently popped up in my mailbox with her words of appreciation for my earlier pieces on this site. Her feedback helped considerably in breaking the impasse.

As with all my stories, this one too ends on a positive and happy note. I like to think that the sex in this story is sublime and erotic. I hope the readers think so too.

Now for the statutory declarations:

This story is a work of fiction and any resemblance to people living or dead is just coincidental.

All persons engaged in sexual activities in the story are above eighteen years of age.

Your votes, comments and feedback are always welcome. Thank you so much for stopping by.

________________________________________

The door opened, just like it always did every Saturday afternoon, before Sashank could reach for the doorbell. And just as always, the radiant smile of Rohini welcomed him. He dropped the bag he held in his left hand. Long before it could hit the floor with a soft thud, he had enveloped this beautiful woman in his arms. Lips met, limbs tightened, plump breasts crushed against a broad chest, a hard loin rubbed against a soft one. Tongues wrestled for a minute before they reluctantly separated.

Smiling at her, Sashank kicked off his shoes and rushed into the shower. Stripping off his clothes and throwing them into the laundry basket in the corner, he let the warm water cascade down his head and shoulders, washing away the sweat and grime of a six-hour drive, the last forty minutes through heavy city traffic. His dark brown eyes scanned the clothes rack in the other corner. His favourite round-necked tees, his soft pair of jeans, and his sparkling white jockeys were parked there as always.

"God, this woman knows how to take care of me," he thought as he reached out for his shower gel.

In fifteen minutes, he stepped out, fully dressed, hair neatly combed, a dab of her favourite musk deodorant, on him. He knew he smelt yummy and Rohini loved his fragrance. The aroma of the lunch spread out on the dining table wafted through. But Sashank moved to the kitchen and embraced her gently from the rear. She leaned back against him, her neck arched over his left shoulder, to facilitate his mouth to find hers, just as his hands moved up from her waist to cup those gorgeous 36 D gravity-defying spheres. Her hard nipples poking through her blouse adequately conveyed her arousal and her ardent desire for him. Her hair and neck exuded a distinct aroma that tickled his senses in an unbelievably erotic manner. They both knew how much they loved each other, wanted each other and lusted for each other.

He released her rather unwillingly, letting her stir what was on the stove as he busied himself with the plates, bowls, glasses and napkins. His sensitive ears heard the faint rumbling of her stomach and he knew she was hungry, having patiently waited a long time since breakfast to dine with him.

They ate together in silence as ever before. They fed each other tidbits from their respective plates, as only young people in love do, smiling and looking softly at each other all the while. They finished eating together, cleared the table and piled the plates and vessels into the sink. Then one by one, they brushed their teeth and rinsed their mouth with a strong mouthwash to get rid of the sharp odours of the spicy dishes that Rohini had so lovingly made for them.

This was a well-rehearsed routine that played out every Saturday afternoon. Sashank stood outside the bathroom door, and as Rohini stepped out, he swept her up in his arms. Hers went around his neck in a tight clasp as he moved effortlessly, carrying her athletic frame to the bed. Placing her gently, he held one end of the drape of her saree and tugged. She rolled to the other end of their king-sized bed, and the saree unravelled with every turn. He leapt after her, tugging at her in-skirt, pulling it down to reveal a beautiful pair of long legs that met at her wide hips. The core of her beauty, one of the many objects of his desire, the light of his life, the fire of his loins lay covered in a beautiful snow-white pair of lacy panties. The front was covered in a light damp smudge and exuded the fragrance of a mild incense.

"How does she create this odour in her?" He wondered, as his fully clothed body embraced her nearly nude form.

He felt her arms tighten around him and he lifted his face from between her breasts to gaze into her amber eyes with that coppery tint.

"I want our baby to have her eyes." He fervently wished.

"His eyelashes are so long, like that of a woman. I want our daughter to have his eyelashes," she earnestly prayed.

He kissed her, running the tip of his tongue over her eyelids. She loved that wet feeling and responded with a small gasp. Her racing heart beat faster. He propped himself on his left elbow, and with his right hand, deftly unbuttoned and peeled off her blouse pulling her half up into a sitting position, and then as the blouse came off, she flopped back on the bed. She watched him, with a smile playing on her lips. She knew the sight of her breasts inflamed him, his kisses would grow more passionate as his hands would gently squeeze her tits, rolling the nipples between his forefinger and thumb. The pinching action would send small electric currents that would travel through her torso and reach her vaginal lips making them wetter and wetter. It was his desire that she wears no bra on Saturday afternoons, but today, she wanted to tease him. She had worn the skimpy, lacy, crocheted more holes than fabric bra that came with the panties she had on. It was new lingerie that she had purchased just the day before and she expectantly awaited his reaction.

Sashank had this wolfish grin on his face. "My God, it excites him!" she thought breathlessly, as he grabbed her right bra strap in his teeth and tried to pull it down her arm in one jerky move. The bra strap slipped out of his mouth and slapped back into her shoulder with a whack. The skin instantly took on a deep crimson hue. Shashank's face turned contrite as he looked up at her with concern. Seeing an amused look on her face, he attacked that strap with his teeth once again. It came halfway down her shoulder and he looked at her with a victorious gloat. Her amused look changed into one of laughter. Her eyes were laughing he knew, yet no sound escaped her lips.

He looked down at her cleavage and realised what was so funny. The bra opened in the front. He quickly moved his fingers and unclasped it, taking his time to slowly separate the cups and lay them to each side. The nipples seem to grow on their own and as the blood rushed in, the areola along with its pointed nub transformed into a deep pink island with a pointed tower at its centre.

"She loves me, I love her," he said to himself as he slowly lowered his lips, engulfing the right nipple in his mouth firmly as his right hand rhythmically squeezed and released her left sphere of passion.

"It will not be long my love when these will grow a couple of sizes larger and will be filled with milk. It will nourish our baby and me, for we will both feed from them," he said to himself.

Rohini read his mind, and that thought brought forth another rush to the arteries in her breasts. "Yes, my love, those days will come to us soon," she ruminated.

She reached out for his tees, and the message was clear, He hurriedly divested himself of it and hugged her bare body to his. He wanted skin against skin and so did she. Her hands reached down to his jeans-clad buttocks and she pulled at the fabric. He hurriedly removed them, throwing them onto the existing pile of clothes beside the bed and as he covered her with his body, her legs went around his. It was his white jockeys with a wet patch that rubbed against her white panties now soaked with her juices. He reached down and pulled out his penis from the side of his undies, and inserted it through a side of hers. His long dark manhood, hard as a bar of steel nestled against her soft and gushing womanhood. With the anticipation of a penetration that was still a few minutes away, Sashank, allowed his body to feel hers, his eyes closed as he searched for her lips yet again. Hers was seeking his too and when they met, they rubbed, with just a hint of their tongues caressing each other. They rocked together, as she slowly took the initiative and pushed her tongue deep into his mouth.

"Rohini's kisses are to die for," he reflected as he allowed her to eagerly explore his depths. His absence for the last five days had increased her desire to a crescendo. She gyrated her hips, letting her softness tease his hardness. His mind went back to the day they were married. They had known each other for a while, dated, yet like most Indian couples, making love would happen only on the night of their nuptials.

They were both virgins, and when she had moved on from pads to a menstrual cup, she knew she went deep down there and had shamelessly hoped that the man she would marry would be long and thick enough to fill her completely. She was pleasantly surprised when they undressed each other on their wedding night. As much as he was enamoured with her body, so was she with his. Their love for each other had detonated like a nuclear device the moment he had penetrated her and at that moment, one of the sweetest love stories that would ever be told began to unfold.

His body had never disappointed her, and she knew as every woman does that hers fulfilled him every time they joined. For both of them, passion always climaxed in a fiery discharge, to be followed by extremely sublime moments where the intensity of their love would cause a yearning ache that would remain with them even after they got up from their beds to live their daily lives. In time their minds were so tuned to each other that they believed they could read each other's thoughts.

And read her thoughts, Sashank did. He manipulated his cock sticking out of his jocks and into hers, and she positioned herself correctly for him. In a smooth slithering move, he eased himself inside her, as his tip followed a long deep passage till his pubic bone ground into her rather enlarged clitoris. His moves were gentle, his strokes long and deep. She thrust against his lunges with a rhythm perfected over the years, and their gasps were synchronised as two skilled musicians playing a duet. Their arms were wrapped tightly around each other, chest pressing against breasts, lips and tongues interlocked and their minds as two high amplitude brainwaves in perfect phase, magnified and channelled their energies of fusion to their core where they accumulated, awaiting a final explosive release.

He sensed the small increase in the frequency of her thrusts against him and he responded with an increase of his own. Slowly the thrusts became shorter and the cyclic movement of his snugly fitting piston in her cylindrical love chamber increased. It would be very rare that they would not come together or within moments of each other and this afternoon was no exception. Her vaginal muscles pulsated as they milked his hard penis, and as always, he came in torrents.

Still connected he rolled her over him so that she did not have to bear his weight. He could easily bear hers, and he loved to rain soft kisses on her face, as she lay panting atop him. His hands would take a firm grip on her large breasts and often he would detect more than one pulse beating rapidly in them.

She would drop off to sleep first, head resting on his chest. In time he would shift gently, lowering her beside him. He would pull the covers over them, cuddle her protectively in his arms and take a nap.

On the dot of five, as the sun went low over the horizon, they would wake up. They would playfully shower together, giggling silently and teasing each other. She had a pleasing way of tormenting his tongue with hers that would make his hard penis twitch. They would soap each other lovingly, then towel the other's body intimately. Some quick application of deodorant and a preferred cologne, and they would dress formally for their dinner date. They would take her car, she would drive and park expertly in a small lane. Hand in hand they would walk a hundred meters or so to the main road, take the elevator to the topmost floor of the tower where they would enter their favourite Italian restaurant.

They were very well known customers, and their Maitre d' would escort them to her favourite table next to a large french window. The window commanded a wide view of the busy city, its lights shining to display a vibrant nightlife. It was so fascinating to watch the colourful neon signs on top of tall buildings, and the headlights of vehicles as they snaked their way, often at a snail's pace through crowded city roads and sometimes at amazing speeds through the lesser populated areas.

They would accept the Chef's greetings with a smile and point to the dishes they wanted from the menu. They would listen attentively to the Chef when he made his recommendations and invariably they would go with them. They were a favourite of the Chef and the other staff members, and many would tarry by their table to respectfully greet them.

Oblivious to all others in the restaurant, they had eyes only for each other. On some days, he would lead her to the dance floor, and though it was not yet time for the band to assemble, a musician or two available then would play a couple of fast tunes for them.

She was just a couple of inches shorter than him in her heels and their lithe bodies were a sculptor's delight. Their dance was elegant, and a watcher would easily mistake them for professional dancers. The third tune would always be a slow and intimate one. She would bring her face close to his, their noses almost touching, her left hand and his right encircling each other's upper back while their other hands clasped each other's palms and they would perform a sensual Tango. In those five minutes, for them, the rest of the universe would cease to exist. The other early diners would break into spontaneous applause at their performance, which they would acknowledge with a deep bow. Sometimes after the bow, he would tilt his head down and kiss her fully on the lips and then lead her back to their table, causing the teenage and young adult crowd that was around, to whistle, cheer and thump the tables excitedly.

As soon as they took their seats, two glasses of wine, as per their order would appear, quickly followed by their food and again oblivious to the world around them, they would intermittently fork bits and pieces of the choicest morsels from their plates and feed each other.

The ritual would not have lasted more than two and a half hours and as the restaurant would fill up with patrons for a long drawn out live band Saturday night, they would make a graceful exit, smiling and waving to the staff and the small crowd that had appreciated their performance.

She would drive them home, they would silently perform any leftover chores, change into their nightwear, secure up the house and fall into bed, melting into each other's arms. Their lovemaking now would be languorous and long drawn out as they pleasured each other. They would invariably sixty-nine and as their passion reached its zenith, they would quickly assume a woman on top or a doggie position. It was a world that rocked only to their unsung tune that played only in their heads.

He would wake up first, kissing her on the cheeks and forehead and she would murmur in her sleep. He would brush his teeth, shave and prepare two strong cups of South Indian filter coffee, arrange them in a tray and take it to her. He would gently shake her awake. She would rush to the bathroom, brush her teeth and together they would sip their morning beverage.

They would then put on their running gear, she would tie her hair in a high ponytail and they would set out on their 8-kilometre run. As with their dancing, and as with their lovemaking, their pace would be in perfect sync. Fellow joggers they would meet at the park would wave to them and they would wave back.

They would shower again together and this morning shower would involve deep penetrative couplings. Sometimes if the mood came about, they would lubricate each other and indulge in anal sex. It was more a change in their routine than any intense desire, but she especially did enjoy it, bucking against him and coming violently.

She would then load the washing machine with all the dirty clothes that were in the bag he had brought back with him the previous afternoon. Then she would start to cook a huge brunch for them as he took her car for a test run, just to ensure things were normal, and to preempt any forthcoming problems before they could get serious. He would fill up the tank and check out the tyres including the spare one. If he foresaw any issues, he would quickly send an email to their service centre and schedule a maintenance visit during the week, marking a copy of the mail to her mail id. It was obvious that he cared deeply for her safety and well being. Then he would pack his bag for the week.

After brunch, depending on their mood, they would either take in a movie in the afternoon or go mall hopping and shopping. By seven they would be back, having already caught a light dinner of street food that the city was famous for.

They would make love again and their merging would be energetic and frenzied. Their happiness would be tinged with a feeling of melancholy as the time of their separation neared. Sashank would set his alarm for three in the morning and hugging each other fiercely, they would sleep.

As Sashank woke to his alarm, bathed and dressed, Rohini would pack him a huge, heavy breakfast. At four, long before the crimson lights of the dawn could tinge the skies, they would smilingly part, with a fierce hug and a lingering kiss. He would load his rucksack and the lunch bag in the back seat of his car, wave to Rohini and leave. As soon as his car would reach the end of their street, two large drops of tears would course down her cheeks, one from each eye. Just those two drops, not one more, not one less. Then glad that she had once again not let him see her cry, she would get back to bed, hugging the pillow he had slept on.

At the same moment, Sashank would, with the back of his palm, wipe his eyes to clear the mistiness in them and focus on the road. With hardly any traffic so early in the morning, he would clear the city limits and enter the highway in less than fifteen minutes. Night traffic would be heavy on the highway but he would enter the fast lane and make good speed.

At seven he would stop at a wayside filling station for fuel, then he would park his car in a service lane off the highway and eat his breakfast. It would invariably be French toast or a huge spicy cheese and onions stuffed omelette with soft white bread, a large vegetable cutlet packed inside a hot foil and a fruit salad with a sprinkling of pepper, just like he loved it, along with a small flask of strong coffee.

He would then text Rohini. "Lovely breakfast as always darling, I am getting back on the highway making good speed."

One and a half hours later he would text her again. "The car is in my parking slot at shore operations, boarding the helicopter in 10 minutes. I love you."