Be still

3 min read

‘Be still,’ he whispers.

But I do not want to be still.

He presses down upon me, I feel him deep within, hard, insistent, forcing me to be where I need to be. This way, under him, controlled by him.

‘Be still,’ he whispers once more. His lips brush mine into silence.

And I am still because he makes me so. This time I am not to be allowed to reach and force his body to me in abandoned ecstasy. I begin to wonder where this is going.

His eyes hold mine. He says nothing. He does not touch me other than his slow penetration of me. His gaze is hypnotic, probing me more deeply even than the thrust I feel opening me for him. As if he is searching for another me, someone that as yet I do not know. The depth he finds is new, somehow revealing a different kind of desire. He can hold himself inside me for this eternity, where his control of me and of himself is absolute.

There is no frantic thrusting, no frenzied demands; just this ordered stillness, where the sensation of him is contained within a subtle muscle contraction that I barely feel. Time begins to lose meaning. It is almost a meditation, where the inner sensations of his use of me are all that I am.

I begin to close in on myself, and know nothing outside of him.

Because he will allow me no other movement, that minute sensation of his sensual pulsing becomes magnified. There is nothing else. It grows until my entire being knows only that. Everything else is being gradually shut out as my mind turns inward in concentrated feeling that knows he is filling me. I want to buck and rise against him, but he will not allow that.

He makes me still again. My legs are spread wide to take him, but he spreads his own wider than mine, across them, straddling me. Then slowly uses muscle power to draw mine together like a closing vice. Now his thighs crush me tight on his pulsating hardness. It feels as if my entire body is clamped tight around him, around what is a new sensation of him. I feel myself flowing uncontrollably. He feels my flow of want grow under his control. We are somehow reversed, yet he remains deep inside me, still unmoving. It is something I have not known before. I have never felt him this way, it feels new, different. There is an awareness that an inner self is awakening under his control.

Now I am rigid under him, as he takes my hands and crosses my wrists above my head. One hand easily encircles both my wrists to hold them there. The length of my body is stretched under him. It becomes a delicious form of captivity.

His eyes say again: ‘Be still.’ Now I am clamped tight by his gentle strength, and can do nothing else. He is feeding my desires, while taking me to somewhere new I know not of. It serves to inflame my need for more of that pulse I feel inside me.

Imprisoned by him, I begin to convulse from within. Inner contractions squeezing him harder, tighter, pulling him deeper, though the body he holds down can make no movement. He has turned me in on myself, making me use him from inside. It is as if he has deliberately unleashed another being in me, pleasuring herself, while the real me is being controlled by him. Am I one, or the other? My brain will not allow me to focus long enough to decide.

His mind has absorbed itself into mine. Gradually I realize I do not need to move, or care which is me. The pleasure clamped like this is revealing another woman and intensifying with every passing moment despite our silent stillness.

Neither of us is moving, we are rigid, still and silent. Yet there is a wild intensity being honed to a fine edge, controlled to his bidding. I find myself gyrating with a soft and inner subtlety to take everything he has. His body tenses, then contracts; then tenses again, making me rise to meet him.

I open my mouth to scream, but he shakes his head as his free hand closes gently over it, keeping my last vestige of self will locked inside. My scream silences itself under his palm as I convulse on him. My ecstasy is turned inward on me, nothing escapes. No sound, no movement, just an insane inner focus on what is being done to me. My brain seems to explode behind my eyes as my climax hits and I scream behind his hand.

I lose myself to the animal inside me. My orgasm seems endless at it rolls in waves within my helpless body and around him. Impaled and rigid, my mind knows only hard, insistent violation, mental and physical. I know that I am controlled and owned yet free to be this way.

He stays within me, still with the maddening pulse of him as my climax boils around him in unstoppable frenzy. I want to eat him alive. He kisses my nose and grins to promise more mischief as he continues to hold me down and stop my screams, and clamp his thighs around me.

I know why he does not come. This is just the start. He will use me many more times before I can claim my black orgasmic oblivion and rest contented in his arms. This has been the first wave of his rollercoaster. Already I can feel that slow rising to the next height.

I write what I know. Any constructive thoughts, comments and ‘love it’ hearts will be appreciated…

you might like my erotic novel “Need”


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