Chapter 12: The Beast’s Seal
His rhythm began. The first thrusts from behind were deep and powerful. A surprised “uh…” escaped Ngan’s lips as she felt the new depth. He growled in his throat, a sound of primal satisfaction. The sound of skin slapping against skin began to resound, regularly, “bang, bang, bang”.
The rhythm quickened. His hands were no longer just holding her hips. One hand reached forward, finding her breast, squeezing roughly. The other hand grabbed her hair, pulling her head back.
“This position… deeper, right?” – he panted in her ear. “I’m all the way inside your pussy now… Like it?”
“Deep… oh… so deep…” she moaned, her voice breaking. “That’s right… just like that… ah…”
Her encouragement was a command. He went crazy. His thrusts were as strong as the sky, sending her body flying forward. The bed creaked mournfully, mixed with Ngan’s uncontrollable moans.
“Say my name!” he roared hoarsely. “Tell me you’re my bitch! Say it!”
“Tung!” – she screamed. “Fuck me harder! Fuck this bitch to death! Mine… all mine… ah… ah…!”
The storm reached its climax. He gave one last thrust so deep that it felt like it reached her soul. Ngan’s entire body arched up, a high, meaningless scream tore through the air. “Ah… Ah… Ah… Ah…!!!”
Her frantic spasms were electric. He let out one last roar too, a roar of release and possession, and then erupted hot lava deep inside her.
He collapsed on her back, heavy and sweaty. They were both panting, exhausted. He buried his face in her tangled hair and whispered, his voice hoarse with exhaustion: “…tired?”
She couldn’t answer, just shook her head slightly, her body still shaking from the aftershocks.
The storm had reached its climax. The energy in the room was tense, ready to explode, just waiting for a moment to release, for everything to melt into nothingness.
Tung’s thrusts became frantic, out of control, like a wild animal pouncing on its last prey, without any reason left. The sound of flesh hitting each other “bang thump”, “bang thump” echoed throughout the room, blending with the pounding of both their hearts, like a primitive symphony. The old wooden bed creaked mournfully with each thrust, each withdrawal and entry, like a lament of matter before the madness of desire. His entire body tensed like a bow, every muscle bulging. He let out a long roar, a suppressed scream bursting from his chest as he thrust one last deep thrust and held still, his body convulsing violently as he released all his hot, thick semen into the condom, a complete possession, an indelible mark. His explosion was the last shot. Ngan’s entire body convulsed, squeezing his penis tightly, her vaginal muscles contracting repeatedly, as if wanting to hold him forever, not letting him escape. She let out a long, high and sharp scream, no longer a word but a release of pure energy, her eyes closed, her head thrown back, completely surrendering to the orgasm, an ultimate release, a sweet destruction, where pleasure and pain merged into one. “BANG… Ah… Ah… Ah…!”
The storm passed. He slowly pulled out, a small “slurp” sound, and collapsed on her back, heavy and sweaty. Only the two of them panted heavily, echoing in the room, gradually slowing down, mixing with the howling wind outside. The room fell silent again, leaving only the smell of sweat, sex, and the warmth of two exhausted bodies, a primal scent of satisfaction, mixed with the smell of rubber and semen.
He lay on her back for a long time, not moving. Then he rolled over to the side, but still held her tightly in his arms. Tung’s voice was hoarse, without any strength left. “Sister…”
Ngan did not answer, only moved slightly, snuggling deeper into his embrace, seeking warmth and security. The orgy was over. The warmth had been created, not just from the fireplace, but from the wild collision of their bodies. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, amid the remnants of a sweet storm, a shared secret sealed.
The wooden room was plunged into darkness, soon after they had both broken out. The storm had passed. There was only absolute silence, broken only by the two of them panting, heavy breathing and the crackling of the fire in the hearth, a soundtrack of exhaustion. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, sex, and rubber, a primal mixture of pleasure, thick in every corner.
Ngan and Tung were completely exhausted. Tung collapsed completely on top of Ngan, heavy, his body limp, without any strength left. His head fell into the hollow of her neck, his hot breath blowing on her skin. He was motionless, like a large animal that had exhausted all its strength after a hunt, leaving only extreme fatigue. Ngan lay still under his weight. Her body was limp, without any strength left, like a rag doll. Her mind was blank, only the echoes of her recent orgasm remained, the waves of pleasure still reverberating. Their goal was to exist together in the most naked and primal moment, when words were superfluous and the body said it all. The conflict was the intensity of what had just happened against the suffocating silence of the present, a haunting contrast.
Tung slowly pulled his softened penis out of Ngan, a small “slurp” sound rang out, like a sigh of relief from the flesh, then collapsed onto her back, heavy and sweaty, her body limp, without any strength left. Only the heavy, panting of the two people remained, echoing in the room, gradually slowing down, blending with the whistling wind outside. The room fell silent again, only the smell of sweat, sex and the warmth of two exhausted bodies remained, a primitive scent of satisfaction, mixed with the smell of rubber and semen, thick in the air.
He lay on her back for a long time, not moving, just feeling the warmth from her body. Then he rolled over to the side, but still wrapped his arms around her, a gentle, affectionate hug. Tung’s voice was hoarse, without any strength, as if he had just finished a marathon. “Sister…”
Still in the wooden room, a while later. Both of them had begun to recover. Their breathing was steady, no longer rapid, blending with the whistling wind outside. The silence was no longer stifling, it began to become warm and comfortable, like a soft cotton blanket enveloping them, dispelling the cold of the mountains and forests.
Ngan’s eyes were still closed but she was more awake. She was feeling. Feeling the weight of his arm on her waist, a gentle possession, feeling his breath on her hair, the heat spreading, feeling the sweet ache between her thighs, a taste of a wild night, a reminder of pleasure. Tung wasn’t sleeping either. He was looking at her. Looking at the beautiful face resting on his chest, looking at her bare shoulders, her white skin under the dim light. An unprecedented tenderness rose in his heart, a feeling of wanting to protect her, wanting to shield her from everything.
Tung’s hand began to move, gently stroking Ngan’s messy hair, then sliding down her smooth bare back. His voice was hoarse, whispering. “Sister…”
Ngan’s eyes were still closed, her voice lazy. “What?”
“Does it hurt? Just now… you… were too strong…”
His silly question made her laugh inside. Men always asked such questions after finishing their work. But the worry in his voice was real, not a trace of falsehood. She didn’t answer. She just lifted her head a little and kissed him lightly on the chest, right where his heart was. Her voice was also a whisper, full of affection. “Silly. Go to sleep.”
Her actions and words were the perfect reassurance. He didn’t ask any more questions, just tightened his hold a little. An unspoken understanding had formed between them. No matter what happened tomorrow morning, right now, they belonged to each other, in a rare moment of peace.