Don’t Say a Word

PREFACE:
“Just enjoy the ravishing,” I told her as I finished her off. Then I lingered inside of her for a long minute or two. After that, we lay next to each other, exhaling sighs of deep, indescribable satisfaction, and some laughter.

“Ravishing.” It remains my favorite erotic, lovemaking word. As in, “an old-fashioned ravishing,” which I often said I wanted to give her in those days. That weekend, I got my wish and then some.

As that weekend approached, I might have suspected something was up. We were four years into our marriage and had even started working in the same office, though in different departments. When she told me how much she loved me that Thursday or Friday, she made it clear she wanted the weekend to be a long, erotic one, just for me.

I certainly intended to return the favor.

Even though neither of us have the energy these days for regular encounters half that steamy, the memories are intact and powerful a generation later.

Here’s how it happened. (Proceed at the risk of getting extremely turned on. I know I did, again.) END PREFACE

It was chilly that morning, and my lovely, half undressed wife was complaining and pleading: “I’m cold!”

“I think I can warm you up,” I told her. With a hint of suspicion and intrigue, she suggested a hot bath. We both made a dash for it.

I had to lead her on a bit into what I had in mind now, besides the obvious. It was a bit awkward, if only because my favorite turn on and fantasy is a bit repetitive. (See my: “An Afternoon To Remember” on this site, for confirmation.) She knew me well enough, and still does. I wanted…

“…to have me gagged,” she said. “Go ahead.” She said it with kind of a wave of her hand. “Grab one of those wash cloths.”

I did and held it up to her mouth. There was always a chance that acting out that fantasy wouldn’t turn either of us on. Sometimes it didn’t.

But this time, a slow start was not going end up in a romantic spousal encounter gone wrong. Besides, we both liked taking our time, and we still do. We hopped out of the tub, dried off, and—still naked—headed back to the bedroom.

Stroking each other in our favorite spots soon turned into her giving my penis her undivided attention. Slowly at first, she began licking it, then taking it in her mouth—in and out, in and out, back and forth, back and forth.

She paused long enough to ask, “Do you like that?” I emphatically answered that I did. “What do you like most about it?”

“All of it,” I said. “It feels good all over.” But I really wanted her to stop talking and keep stroking and slurping me. “It also keeps you quiet,” I added.

“Oh?” “Yeah. It acts as a gag in your mouth.”

She looked at me. “Why didn’t you say so?!”

I shrugged, but by now we were both over the edge.

“Your dick is a gag in my mouth!” Over and over, she aaid the words in the most sultry voice I had ever heard from her. My whole body shook, taking in the sensations, the imagery. And the words. “Your dick is a *gag*, in my mouth…”

As my otherwise silenced wife alternated taking me in her mouth and repeating the obvious, she was eventually building up to three little words that never failed to make me come, or explode harder if I had already started. The words were: “shut mah mouth”, in a perfect, deep native drawl.

Soon I was on top of her, and inside her, and there was no “eventually” about it. I was getting too excited even for those three little words. She was also so aroused it was becoming unbearable. I knew what she was about to say, and I had to act fast.

As she began moaning more and more loudly, I put my hand over her mouth and told her: “Don’t say a word! Just enjoy the ravishing.”

I licked and lightly pinched her nipples with one hand, keeping her muffled with the other, all the while ravishing her vagina—her pussy, as she’d say in her more graphic moments—as well as her whole physical, emotional, and spiritual being. I thanked God for her as never before.

She screamed blissfully into my hand as I helped her carry out my wishes. Powerless and too delirious with love to say even one word, she had a powerful hold on me. She was the princess being rescued, with a hand keeping her from alerting the castle guards as she escaped.

I removed my hand from her mouth as I lingered inside her and then lay beside her.

We made love three or four more times that weekend. None of them had the same intensity, but they didn’t have to. Mainly, she had enjoyed the ravishing she had promised me. It was the kind of moment no couple ever wants to end.