Joyous Noise

As two foreigners visiting India for the first time, everything was new and different to us, including the festive Diwali. Throughout the day, we had been exposed to the sounds of various pyrotechnics, the sizzles and the bangs and the booms, everywhere we had gone in the city.

On the night of Diwali itself, it all intensified, yet it also provided us with a wonderful backdrop.

In the near-darkness of our hotel room, as the natural light of the day gave way to the night, she cried out again, clutching me as I filled her anew. I have long enjoyed her loud cries, her incoherent babble, and the intense bond which links us together.

Around us, from seemingly every apartment in the many tall buildings surrounding the hotel, pyrotechnics of seemingly every type were being lit and launched. Cracks and bangs and thunderous booms practically surrounded us, one boom sounding so close that I almost thought it had detonated directly underneath the bed. Yet to this unusual music, we added our own natural rhythm of sounds: the sound of two bodies slapping together, the sound of bedsprings in constant usage, the sound of bedposts continually smacking the wall.

...the sound of a beautiful young wife announcing her pleasure to anyone within earshot.

Her cries became screams as her pleasure mounted. Her eyes were open wide, but clearly could not see. As another pyrotechnic explosion seemed to rock the building, I pounded her body fiercely, rapidly, wanting to hold back my own explosion as long as possible to savor every possible millisecond inside her.

I reached to her chest, seizing a breast and squeezing roughly, adding just enough pain to be erotic.

She exploded.

The pitch of her screams changed as she simultaneously went rigid and aquiver, her body bearing down on me with tremendous force. I stilled myself, buried fully within her, sheathed within her milking warmth, groaning aloud with my effort to hold of my own climax while I rode the powerful waves of her gushing release. And still the sounds continued to explode around us, anchored by a lengthy string of firecrackers exploding sequentially almost directly outside the window by the bed.

With my free hand, I strummed her clitoris, prolonging the launch of fireworks within her. Her fingernails bored into the skin at the sides of my ribs, and I groaned from the resulting pain, yet I did not relent, continuing to batter her clitoris and squeeze her breast more with still more force. With a final, violent spasm, she collapsed upon the bed, and my hands released her.

Yet the joyful noise outside continued. As she wheezed between gasps for air, I leaned forward over her, brushing the damp strands of hair away from her face, kissing her forehead. And as she slowly recovered, as her eyes were able to focus once again, she smiled up at me softly, sweetly, and reached for my face, caressing my cheek.

Slowly, lovingly, respectfully, we rocked together, establishing a gentle rhythm in counterpoint to the sounds pounding our ears. From the other side of the tall wall separating the hotel from the nearby apartments, the unmistakable sound of a rocket being launched captured my attention, the explosion a few seconds later renewing my desire to explode within this beautiful female I had known since middle school. Yet the imminence of my climax had subsided, allowing me this opportunity to truly cherish how freely she gave herself to me, how graciously she allowed me into her body and into her soul.

"Let me ride you," she whispered, and we changed positions upon the bed, both of us groaning softly in the darkness as she impaled herself upon me. My head upon the pillow, I closed my eyes and reveled in her rocking motion upon me, back and forth, back and forth, as I stood proud and erect inside her, standing at attention, like a rocket, on the lunch pad, ready to blast off. Back-and-forth became circular became up-and-down became faster became harder became cries in the darkness.

...and still the joyful noise raged on all around us.

Our own joyful noises added to the celebratory cacophony. She rode me hard and fast, unrelentingly, with a primal fury I had not seen from her in quite some time. Even when she flattened herself upon me, she maintained the frantic pace, a pace I actually had to struggle to match as she screamed into my mouth, each of us sharing the same breath and simply passing it back and forth between our lungs.

Our lips finally tore apart, our burning lungs refilling with fresh oxygen as our bodies continued the instinctive dance and the bedsprings continued to protest at the overwork. Her hands gripping my shoulders, she braced herself, slamming down on me even harder than before, her head thrown back as a mighty roar ripped past her throat and another climax triggered my own explosion within her, my bellow joining hers.

As if on cue, a trio of thunderous booms rocked the building. Even with the violent trembling of a young couple in the throes of unrestrained ecstasy, I could feel the building shake, and it greatly added to the power of the moment and the intimacy of we shared.

When she at last collapsed upon me, I held my wife tightly, feeling our combined passions surrounding me as her body trembled and clenched randomly in the afterglow. Her voice was feeble, but her love was strong, permeating my existence, filling my soul, binding me ever closer to her.

And the joyous noise raged on around us...