Chapter 11: Rubber Silence
On the wooden bed, both were naked and drenched in sweat after their passionate foreplay. The air was thick with the smell of pure desire, hot as the breath of an animal. The fire in the fireplace had begun to die down, leaving only the flickering embers, casting long, distorted shadows.
Ngan lay on her back, her legs slightly apart, her breathing ragged. Her body was trembling with excitement, every muscle seemed to be dancing. She was completely in the moment, her reason had given way to primal instinct. Tung knelt between her legs, his chest heaving. His penis was almost painfully hard, the head red and oozing, like a wordless invitation. He was at the peak of his pent-up desire, just waiting for a signal to explode. The goal for both of them was to complete the union, to release the desire that had reached its peak. The conflict was the primal urge of instinct versus a brief moment of reason and reality.
Tung bent down and kissed Ngan’s belly. His hot cock rubbed against her inner thigh, making her shiver, a jolt of electricity running down her spine. Ngan’s voice was hoarse, almost pleading, like the moan of a female animal in heat. “Come in baby… I want your cock… Put it in my pussy… Don’t torture me anymore…”
Ngan’s words were like a final command, an irresistible invitation. Tung let out a low, hoarse growl, intending to thrust in. But then he stopped. A last ray of reason flashed through his madness, a moment of reality, of responsibility. He breathed heavily, his chest heaving, his voice broken. “Wait… wait for me… Bao…”
He crawled up, his erection making his gait difficult and clumsy, like a wounded animal. He found the wallet thrown in the corner of the room and pulled out a condom. The weak firelight illuminated his muscular body, the blue veins standing out crisscrossing. His hands trembled slightly as he tore the condom open, the dry sound of the condom tearing through the silence, a naked sound that broke all romance, but was also full of excitement.
He put it on a little clumsily, the condom rustling on hot skin, then turned around. Ngan was already lying there, her legs spread wider, her eyes looking at him dreamily, inviting, like a doe waiting for a male. The ordinary moment was over. Now was the time to return to the wild, where instinct reigned, where reason had no place.
Tung returned to his position, kneeling between Ngan’s legs. The silence returned, but this time the silence was more tense, like a string that had been stretched to its limit, ready to snap.
Before he penetrated, he took a second to look, to engrave this moment in his mind. Looking at her flushed face, her swollen lips, her full breasts that rose and fell with each breath, like hills waiting to be conquered. And then he looked down at the place that was about to swallow him up – the small, pink cave, wet and inviting, like a new territory waiting to be explored, an abyss of pleasure.
He didn’t go slowly. He placed the head of his cock at the entrance, and with a strong, decisive thrust of his hips, like an arrow hitting a bull’s-eye, he penetrated until the base touched her flesh, a powerful, irresistible penetration, a declaration of sovereignty. The deep, thick “slap” echoed, mixed with the dry “thump” of pelvic bones hitting each other, like a war drum signaling the beginning.
Ngan let out a scream, a muffled scream, “um… ah… ah…”. A feeling of both pain from being suddenly stretched out, and pleasure to the point of blankness, an ultimate release, where pleasure and pain merged into one. The rubber membrane did not lessen the feeling of being completely filled. She felt his entire length and size deep inside her, touching the deepest place, a place no one had ever touched before, a complete possession, an indelible mark. “So good… so good… you…”
Tung let out a long moan, a moan of satisfaction, “mm… mm…”. An unimaginably hot and tight feeling, like an iron clamp was squeezing him. Inside her was like a furnace, squeezing and sucking his cock through the rubber, making him want to roar. He felt like he had just returned home, returned to where he belonged, a perfect blend, a fusion of two souls. Their panting mixed together, urgent and heavy, creating a symphony of desire, a declaration of possession. “My hole is so good… Do you like it?”
He remained in the same position, his head resting on her shoulder, both of them breathing heavily, letting their bodies get used to each other’s presence, feeling each other’s heartbeat. The first stage of the union was complete, a mark had been placed on the new territory, a promise of things to come.
They started moving in the traditional position, rhythmic and slow. But Tung quickly felt it was not enough. He wanted more. He wanted a different angle, a more naked possession, a way to stamp his sovereignty, to assert his dominance.
He pulled out almost all the way, a wet “chut” sound rang out, then suddenly lifted her hips up, turning her around. He made her kneel, put her hands on the bed, exposing her entire backside to him, like a gift waiting to be discovered. Before Tung’s eyes now was a scene that made him hold his breath, the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. Ngan’s big, round, white buttocks curved up invitingly, shaking with each of her breaths, like two ripe peaches. And in the hollow of her back, right above the crack of her buttocks, was a tiny tattoo, a simple five-pointed star. In his eyes, it was like a secret seal, a challenge, an invitation. His voice growled low in his throat, full of charm, like the call of a devil. “Your ass… is so beautiful. I like this tattoo…”
He didn’t thrust in right away. He used one hand to caress and knead one side of her butt, feeling the softness and elasticity of her skin, as if he were kneading a piece of dough. Then, he swung his hand and gave it a hard slap. A dry “Slap!” sound rang out, tearing the silence, making Ngan jump. A red five-fingered handprint appeared on her white skin, like a mark of possession. Ngan moaned in a sound that was both painful and stimulating, “um… ah… feels good… feels so good…”. He did it a few times, like an animal marking its prey, asserting its possession, a primitive ritual. “Do you like it? Your pussy is curving up like this.”
After he had finished “stamping”, he grabbed her hips, pulled her hard towards him and thrusted in from behind. This position allowed him to go deeper, harder, like a drill piercing through. Each of his thrusts made her whole body rush forward, like a boat gliding on the rough waves, each withdrawal and entry was full of power, full of instinct. The sound of skin hitting each other “bang”, “bang” echoed throughout the room, mixed with the sound of the old wooden bed creaking sadly with each thrust, like a symphony of destruction. Ngan’s uncontrollable moans mixed with his panting, growling, creating a symphony of destruction, where reason had disintegrated, leaving only pure instinct.